#you can do it in whatever way is easiest for you

[vnti-vntiety-recs]

The Cat Burglar's Heist

★ PAIRING: Ceo!Jaehyun x Cat Burglar! Reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 19.6k (sorry TT)

★ GENRE(S): Fluff, smut, angst, drama, strangers to lovers.

☆ SUMMARY: When you attempt to rob a wealthy businessman, things don't go as planned. Instead of calling the police, he offers you a job. Now, you're left uncertain about whether you can truly start anew or if your past will come back to haunt you.

★ ☆ WARNINGS: explicit sex, unprotected sex, minor character death, loneliness, theft

☆★ NOTES: probably gonna be my last fic for awhile so enjoy!

People might call you a pickpocket, a burglar, a larcenist, or a simple thief. Whatever the label, it didn’t matter to you; you always slipped away unnoticed. You never hit the same neighborhood twice, always staying light on your feet and never lingering too long in one place. There was only one rule you lived by.

Don't Get Caught.

Maintaining a low profile was essential whenever you scouted a new neighborhood. As the sun beat down, you strolled through the area with a dog at your side, scanning for the easiest target. The shades you wore partially concealed your identity while shielding your eyes from the scorching sun. Your friend’s dog trotted happily beside you, blissfully unaware of the role it played in your plan. If your friend found out you were using his beloved pet as cover for your schemes, he would kill you. You had to keep this under wraps—after all, your friends were all you had. Stealing was the only way you could keep pace with the lifestyle your friend enjoyed.

You refused to be left behind, so the money you made from stealing became your lifeline for fitting in. Each successful job meant another night out, another round of drinks, and another chance to blend seamlessly into your friend group’s lavish lifestyle. You had built your world around them, and you’d do anything to keep up appearances, even if it meant walking a dangerous line.

Daegal fit right in with the neighborhood, his designer leash and collar catching the sunlight. You wandered deeper into one of the city's wealthiest enclaves, surrounded by towering trees that served as natural barriers for the sprawling estates. Luxury cars glimmered in driveways, while some homes flaunted their riches with intricate architectural designs that spoke of unspoken fortunes.

As you walked, Daegal suddenly slowed his pace, his nose twitching at the approaching scent of another dog. You felt your palms grow clammy around the leash; the fewer people who noticed you, the better. You were keenly aware of the risks, and any unwanted attention could spell trouble.

The older lady, her silver hair gleaming in the afternoon sun, approached with her fluffy Pomeranian in tow. A wave and a smile erupted from her, directed toward Daegal, and you cursed under your breath. The last thing you needed was a conversation.

The two dogs tilted their heads, inspecting one another with the calm demeanor that only well-trained pets possess. You could feel her gaze on you, and you forced a tight smile onto your face, betraying none of your rising anxiety.

Wonderful!

"He's so cute! What's his name?" you ask politely, forcing a bright smile.

"His name is Prince, but the kids call him Pudding," the older woman replies with a hearty laugh.

You let a small chuckle escape your lips. "How adorable!"

"And what about this handsome fella?" she inquires, her eyes sparkling with warmth.

“His name?” Your mind races, almost short-circuiting. "He's… Fluffy!” you say, trying to keep your voice steady and convincing.

You know rich people have more connections than they do money, and there's a good chance she could be linked to your friend Chenle somewhere down the line. It’s safer to spin a little tale.

"Well, he's quite the charmer! I'm sure he’s brought you many joys," she continues, obliviously cheerful, while tension coils tighter in your veins. “It’s a pleasure to have you in the neighborhood! Someone as young and pretty as you would fit right in!” Her compliment catches you off guard, and you feel your cheeks heat slightly at her kind words.

“Thanks!” you reply quickly, hoping to deflect attention from the flush creeping up your face. "I love it here."

She leaned a little closer, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, about a month ago, this really young CEO moved in just a block down. He's a bit too young for me, but my goodness, he’s quite the sight," she said, laughing heartily as she swatted her hand playfully, as if sharing a scandalous secret.

Rich people thrived on gossip, and you realized you didn't have to say much for her to fill you in on exactly what you wanted to know.

"A man like that has to be tied down, right?" you asked, bending down to pet her dog.

"From what I’ve heard, he lives alone," she said, raising her eyebrows suggestively. "Apparently, he works all the time. Word is, he comes home late every night. My husband says he drives an Aston Martin."

Bingo

"Thanks for the heads-up about the neighborhood hottie, but I'm not looking for a relationship right now," you joked, lightly chuckling to keep the conversation light. Just then, Daegal began to fidget, sensing your restlessness, and you took it as your cue to leave. "I’ll see you around, okay?"

As you walked a block down, your heart raced when you spotted a sleek black Aston Martin parked in a long driveway. The houses in this neighborhood were enormous. Although the properties weren’t far apart; the homes were set back from the road, mostly hidden by towering trees that provided an extra layer of privacy.

A young CEO who lives alone and works late.

You mentally sifted through the details you had gleaned from your earlier conversation. He was the perfect target.

Rich people were easy targets. Their homes, adorned with elaborate security measures, falsely reassured them of safety; all it did was signal that they had something worth taking. The flashy yard signs proclaiming "This home is under surveillance by _" told you their security company, which then told you the equipment they used. It wasn't hard to figure out how to disable it from there.

It had been a week since you first gathered your intel. Through careful observation, you had mapped out a schedule for when the house was empty and discovered how to bypass the alarm system. You’d managed to catch glimpses of the homeowner from a distance. The rumors were true; he carried himself with a confidence that only added to his undeniable charm.

Tonight was the night you would make your move. Clad in a black hoodie and sweatpants, you pull your bag over your shoulder and approach the perimeter of the house. Your heart was racing with adrenaline. You navigated the landscape smoothly, well aware of the blind spots in the security cameras. Timing was critical; every second counted.

You pressed yourself against the side of the window, heart pounding as you carefully peeked through the curtain. The green light on the alarm system by the door confirmed it wasn’t armed. This was a stroke of luck. According to your calculations, he should still be at work, and it appeared he had rushed out without arming the system.

You hesitated briefly, knowing this part was your least favorite. Breaking a window was always an awkward and potentially noisy affair. No matter how silent you tried to be, it was impossible to avoid the sound entirely. Taking a deep breath, you picked up a nearby rock, and with a swift, calculated strike, you shattered the glass.

The clatter echoed in the stillness, sending a surge of adrenaline through your veins, but you quickly reminded yourself to keep moving. You reached inside and unlocked the window, then climbed through carefully, stepping over the brittle shards that crunched beneath your feet as they scattered onto the plush carpet.

You found yourself in an open den, its decor exuding wealth and taste. Valuable paintings adorned the walls—masterpieces, maybe—but nothing small enough to pocket. You needed to keep going, focusing on finding something worthwhile.

Peeking your head out of the room, you scanned the hallway. Silence enveloped the house, amplifying the sound of your racing heartbeat. No sign of any pets, which was a relief. You made your way toward the primary areas, passing under the large winding staircase that commanded attention in the center of the home.

The layout seemed to follow suit with luxury; hallways branched off to what you assumed were the kitchen and living spaces. The primary room was likely upstairs, but there were many drawers and cabinets you could check on this level. Eager to find where the real valuables might be stashed, you decided to take a brief look around before venturing up the staircase. You shuffled quietly down the hall.

You glanced into a few rooms—one vast space was styled as a study, filled with leather-bound books and expensive-looking gadgets. A quick search through the drawers revealed a few electronic devices you could easily pocket. Moving on, you turned towards the kitchen, where gleaming countertops hinted at a lifestyle of lavish dinners and entertaining guests.

You couldn’t imagine why he would ever need a home this large if he lived alone; the sprawling floor plan was almost excessive. Each room you passed seemed to hold its own story, yet they stood untouched, as if waiting for guests that would never arrive. The formal dining room sported an enormous mahogany table, set for a feast that would never happen, and the living room boasted a grand piano that echoed a silent invitation to a party long forgotten. The atmosphere felt eerie, the elaborate decor clashing with the emptiness—like a stage set for a play that had never opened.

Your eyes darted toward the staircase. The rich wooden banister glimmered in the ambient light, inviting you to explore the secrets that lay above. You took a deep breath and ascended carefully. As you reached the landing, you spotted a door at the end of the hallway slightly ajar, the flicker of a light spilling into the dim corridor.

When you enter the room, the sweet aroma of cologne lingered in the air like a ghost, a faint reminder of its owner. The sheer magnitude of the space left you speechless. Adrenaline surged through your veins, propelling you forward to the side tables flanking the expansive bed. There, you quickly spotted a discarded high-end watch, its polished surface glimmering in the light. Alongside it lay a selection of intricate rings, each one whispering tales of luxury and allure.

As you rifled through the drawers, your fingers brushed against something solid—a wallet. You opened it, and your eyes immediately fell on the ID card nestled inside.

Jung Jaehyun 02/14/1997

Beneath the ID, you found a stack of credit cards and a few loose bills, all waiting to be claimed. You quickly slipped the wallet into your pocket. You approached the closet, and a gasp escaped your lips as the sight hit you—it resembled a mini-designer store. Expensive shoes, luxurious clothes, and shimmering jewelry lined the walls and shelves, all begging to be claimed. You wasted no time, swiftly swiping rings, watches, chains, and even a pair of stunning shoes, each item adding to the growing bounty in your backpack.

As you rummaged through the treasures, something caught your eye: a safe tucked behind a row of suits. Intrigued, you pushed the garments aside to inspect the lock. Cracking your neck, you glanced at the time—plenty of hours remained before he would return.

Just then, you heard footsteps outside the closet, and your heart dropped. You instinctively moved to hide behind the rack of suits, heart pounding in your ears.

“What the fuck?” A voice sliced through the silence, unmistakably belonging to the man you had been eyeing all week.

You held your breath, peering through the fabric. The hope flickered that he might just turn away and call the police, giving you a chance to slip out unnoticed. But instead, he stepped further into the closet, and your heart raced as you caught your first glimpse of him up close..

His hair glistened with moisture, and he wore nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, droplets of water still cascading down his skin, the steam from his shower enveloping him like a shroud. You had never seen him this close before, and the image was seared into your memory. He looked as if he had been sculpted from stone by the most masterful artist, every muscle defined, every feature striking.

His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the chaos—the discarded clothes on the floor, the missing racks of jewelry, the disarray of his closet. An annoyed sigh escaped his lips, and just as he seemed ready to turn away and leave, his gaze locked onto your hiding spot.

A jolt of panic shot through you, and you instinctively jumped back, trying to press yourself further into the fabric of the clothes. You held your breath, heart racing, as he took a step closer, eyes narrowing in suspicion. It was a moment of vulnerability and danger, a breathless standoff between the two of you.

Don't get caught

His steps were cautious as he approached, each footfall echoing in the silence of the closet. One hand gripped his towel tightly, clearly trying to maintain his modesty, while the other reached out hesitantly toward the clothes.

If it came to it, you knew you would have to fight him off and make a run for it, but with each passing second, you realized just how difficult that would be. He was built solidly and his height towered over you, casting an imposing shadow.

What if he got his hands on you? The thought sent a wave of dread through you. There would be no escaping him then.

Fuck

In a surge of adrenaline, you dashed out from your hiding spot, heart racing. His eyes widen in surprise as you rush past him, but the exhilaration of your escape was short-lived. Just a few feet away, you felt a sudden tug on your backpack that yanked you backwards.

You hit the floor with a thud, groaning as the impact jolted through you. Before you could recover, you felt a strong grip pinning you down, his hand firm against your shoulders. Panic set in, and you thrashed against his hold, fighting to break free, but he was unyielding.

As your struggle continued, exhaustion began to creep in. The fight drained from you, and you finally stopped, staring up at the man who had you pinned beneath him. His wet hair hung down over you, droplets cascading down onto your face.. His stern eyes bore into yours—there was an intensity that made your breath hitch, a mix of disbelief and something else entirely.

"Let me go!" you demanded, though your voice came out weaker than you intended. If it weren't for the predicament you found yourself in, you would have been unable to stop your wandering eyes. The towel around his waist was precariously close to slipping, a detail that, in ordinary circumstances, might have made you blush. But now, survival instincts prevailed over all else.

“If you try to run, I’ll call the cops,” he said matter-of-factly, and the gravity of his threat sent a chill down your spine.

A beat passed, your heart pounding in your chest, and finally, you nodded, conceding to the reality of the situation. There was no escape now; he had you right where he wanted you.

He released his grip on you and pulled himself off the floor, adjusting his towel. “Back to the closet, now,” he commanded, and you shuffled reluctantly back into the space that had formerly felt enticing but was now suffocating.

As you stepped in, you found yourself standing in front of the center island, where the glimmer of jewels had once laid. He followed you, shutting the door behind him, his body leaning against it like a barrier between you and freedom.

“Is everything you took in that bag?” He asked, his tone even, but there was an undertone of curiosity mixed with authority.

With a heavy heart, you hung your head and nodded, pulling your backpack off your shoulders and placing it on the floor in front of you. You could almost feel the weight of the stolen items pressing down on your conscience. You'd had visions of making thousands selling his valuables, the thrill of your heist driving you forward. But now, in the dim light of the closet, remorse washed over you like a tide.

“I’m really sorry, I—” you started, the words stumbling from your lips. What could you possibly say in a situation like this? Sorry, I almost stole a fortune from you? It felt absurd, but you didn't know how to express the chaos swirling within you.

He moved closer, looming over you as his intent gaze seemed to dissect every part of your being. It sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt small beneath his scrutiny. When he reached down, you thought he was about to pick up his possessions. But instead, he grabbed a discarded pair of sweats, and you felt a rush of a different kind of embarrassment as he stood up straight, his towel dropping to the ground. You instinctively looked away, sparing him what felt like an invasion of privacy.

Once he was dressed, he stepped back out of the closet, leaving you with a mix of relief and confusion. "Straighten this up, then come see me. Bring that bag and everything you tried to take with you," he ordered.

You swallowed hard. “Where are you going? Are you going to call the cops?”

Your mind raced with possibilities—how clever would he be if he made you tidy up while the police were on their way?

“Do as I say and you will have nothing to worry about," he replied, and there was an edge to his voice. "I don't like messes; clean that up before I change my mind."

Frustration mingled with a strange sense of gratitude. You were infuriated that he was ordering you around like a subordinate, yet the alternative—a police record—loomed much larger in your mind. Why wasn’t he calling the cops?

Taking a deep breath, you began to survey the mess you had made in your frantic attempt to bag his stuff.

It took you at least an hour to set everything back in its rightful place. You meticulously reorganized the jewelry, aligning necklaces and bracelets, smoothing over the disarray you'd caused. You busied yourself with invisible tasks afterward, finding solace in the repetitive act of pretending to straighten his shoes for the fifth time. Avoiding the inevitable confrontation with him was becoming a game of denial.

“I know you’re done; come here,” he commanded, and you froze for a moment. Biting your lip to gather your thoughts, you hesitantly grabbed your bag and stepped out into his room. He was seated on the massive California king bed, an imposing figure that radiated a mix of authority and casual dominance. Leaning back against his hands, he looked every bit like a king surveying his domain, and the sight sent a fresh wave of nerves through you.

“I know it probably doesn’t mean anything to you, but again, I’m really sorry,” you said, forcing the words out as you handed him the bag.

He took the bag from your grasp without much acknowledgment, his focus elsewhere. “Sit down,” he instructed.

You shifted uncomfortably, the anxiety bubbling to the surface. What more could he possibly want from you? He had said he would let you go, hadn’t he? “Sit where?” You looked around the spacious room, taking in the lack of chairs or any other furniture that might serve as a place for you to perch.

He finally lifted his gaze, his hair still damp from the shower, falling into his eyes. “Sit on your knees, right there,” he said, pointing to a spot on the floor in front of him.

You bristled at the command, a mix of confusion and indignation flooding through you. Kneeling before him felt like a submission you had not anticipated, and despite the gravity of your earlier actions, you hesitated to comply with his demands.

“I—" you stammered, trying to find the right words, but nothing came out that didn't sound foolish or defiant.

Seeing your hesitation, his expression shifted slightly, a mixture of patience and something else in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. "You can either sit down like I asked, or we can have a much longer discussion about how this is going to go," he suggested, his tone low but firm, setting the stage for whatever decision you had to make next.

Slowly, you lowered yourself onto the floor, feeling the cool surface beneath your knees, and looked up at him, preparing for whatever was to come next.

He reached behind him and pulled out his phone, an unmistakable sense of dread washing over you as he dug into your bag, retrieving the stolen items one by one. Each piece felt like another nail in your coffin.

He was definitely calling the cops TT

But instead of pressing the call button, he seemed to be calculating something. “$532,724,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Your throat tightened at the reality of that number. You were going to jail. Panic bubbled in your chest, and you fought the urge to cry.

He ran a hand through his hair, the frustration evident on his face. “Let’s see how well you clean up,” he said, standing up and ushering you back toward the closet with a wave of his hand.

You stared at him, your heart pounding as his eyes scanned the confines of the closet where you'd made sure to return everything to its original place. His expression was unreadable at first, a blank canvas that made fear swirl in your stomach. But then it softened, surprising you further.

“Not bad. What’s your name?” He asked, his tone almost casual.

You swallowed hard before nervously answering, “Y/N.”

“How would you like a job, Y/N?”

Your eyebrows shot up, and your jaw dropped in disbelief. This had to be a sick joke. “Excuse me? I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m following,” you stammered, incredulous.

“You will work for me to pay off the debt that you owe,” he replied matter-of-factly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Wait, I didn’t actually take anything!” You argued, your mind racing to process his proposal.

“But you tried,” he shrugged, his casual demeanor shifting to something more serious. “It’s about principle. You made a choice, and now you have to make it right.”

“Are you seriously saying I have to work for you to pay off half a million dollars?” You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, a mix of indignation and disbelief gripping you.

“I could always call the police,” he said lightly, but the weight of his words sunk in with more gravity than you expected.

“Whoa now, no one said I wouldn't help,” you laughed nervously, trying to lighten the mood but failing to shake the anxiety coiling within you.

“Great! You start tomorrow. Come in business attire,” he said with a yawn, as if he were sending you off to a regular job rather than a complicated arrangement born out of desperation.

You turned to follow him out, not sure why you're trying so hard to argue him down “Wait, wha—”

Suddenly, a bright flash burst in front of you, and you stumbled backward, temporarily blinded. You blink a few times, trying to regain your bearings. “Ow! What was that for?” you exclaimed, rubbing your eyes.

He smirked as he lowered his phone, the camera still pointed at you. “If you try to run, I’ll post this picture online and tell the world what you’ve done. Then I’ll hand it over to the police so they can track you down.” His gaze was icy as he scrutinized you, taking in every detail. “I have the resources to find you. Don’t make me have to look for you.”

You felt a mix of anger and fear bubble up inside you. “So you’re blackmailing me?” you huff.

“I’m giving you a second chance,” he corrected, his tone slipping back into that unsettling calmness. He stepped closer, grabbing your shoulders with a surprisingly firm grip. “8 a.m. tomorrow. Now get out.”

Before you could respond, he gave you a gentle push by your shoulders, urging you toward the staircase. You stumbled slightly but regained your footing. As you made your way down the stairs and out of his house, Your circumstances settled squarely on your shoulders. He wasn’t just a thief of your freedom; he was now your employer, your keeper—at least for the foreseeable future.

He walked with you to the front door, his face a mix of annoyance and curiosity. Just as he was about to close the door in your face, he paused and turned back. “How did you get in?” he quirked a brow.

A small, nervous smile crept onto your lips as you fumbled for an explanation. “Uh, I broke a window,” you admitted.

Jaehyun regards you with an unimpressed stare.

“I’ll clean it up tomorrow!” you added, trying to lighten the mood. “Heh… add it to my bill?”

The door slammed shut in your face, the sound echoing in the cool night air. You turned away from the door and took a few steps down the front path, your mind racing.

The situation was certainly absurd.

—

You roll out of bed at 6 a.m. with a groan, the early morning light cutting through your curtains. You’ve never been a morning person, and the thought of facing the day fills you with dread. After washing up, you slip into an outfit that fits the dress code he set for you—a blend of professional and approachable that feels foreign against your skin.

As you glance at your reflection in the mirror, a fleeting thought crosses your mind: what if you just ran away? With the money you’ve saved up, you could leave everything behind and start anew.

Dont make me find you.

His words echo ominously in your head, sending a shiver down your spine. Jaehyun was an enigma; you could hardly wrap your mind around him, but one thing was clear: he had the resources to track you down, wherever you might try to escape.

You gather your things and head out. When you finally arrive and buzz through the gate surrounding his property, it feels surreal to be walking through the front door. Just a day ago, you’d been climbing over his fence and breaking windows—now you were entering as if you belonged.

As Jaehyun lets you inside, you take in the surroundings anew. The sunlight floods the foyer of his mansion, revealing the space you'd barely noticed in your previous haste.

“Stop gawking. I’ll be back down in a bit; I need to finish getting ready. Go clean up the glass you broke,” he commands coldly, his tone leaving no room for argument as he strides back upstairs. His words and the task ahead settle over you as you prepare to face the mess you made, both physically and metaphorically.

“StOp GawKinG….gO CleAn Up thA GlasS,” you mumble under your breath when he’s out of earshot.

You roll your eyes at his cold demeanor, dismissing it as you head toward the den where you had sneaked in during your last visit. Peeking into the room, you’re greeted by a messy carpet littered with shards of glass. At least the window has been boarded up now. As the daylight streams in, you start to appreciate the paintings that line the walls, each one vibrant and expressive in its own right.

One piece catches your attention more than the others—a striking red canvas that emanates an intense energy. The angry strokes twist together in a way that’s both chaotic and mesmerizing, leaving you to ponder what the artist was trying to convey. As you peer closely, you can’t help but notice the name “Jung Jaehyun” inked subtly in one corner. Your gaze travels around the room, noticing the easel and paints tucked away in the corner; it dawns on you that this isn’t just a display but his workspace. The hard wood beneath your feet breaks the carpeted expanse, revealing about a third of the room transformed into an art studio. Impressed by his talent, you find yourself captivated, the earlier tension momentarily forgotten as you admire the skill behind the chaos.

You shake yourself out of the trance, the allure of the art momentarily fading as you remind yourself of your task. You need to find a vacuum and a trash bin—cleaning up that glass is a priority. Determined, you set off through the rest of the house.

You remember stumbling upon the cleaning closet during your earlier escapades, and you make your way back to it. As you wander, a sense of loneliness hangs in the air, and your suspicions about Jaehyun’s solitary lifestyle only deepen. There was no waitstaff, no other residents—just him in this grand mansion.

You finally locate the vacuum in the cleaning closet, and with the trash bin in hand, you retrace your steps back to the art studio. You kneel on the floor, methodically clean up the shards of glass and place the larger pieces into the bin. You finish cleaning just in time for Jaehyun to come back downstairs.

He fixes the cufflinks on his suit before grabbing his keys. “What else should I tidy up for you? Is there a list somewhere?” You ask.

Jaehyun gives you a puzzled look. “You’re coming with me,” he replies.

You blink, momentarily caught off guard. “I thought I was…" You trail off.

He lets out a laugh, one that surprises you—it's light and genuine, completely at odds with his usual demeanor. His eyes crinkle up, revealing warm dimples that you find surprisingly charming in that moment. “You thought you were going to be doing housework?”

You roll your eyes. “Well, what else is there for me to do?”

His expression becomes more serious, though the hint of a playful smile still lingers. “I said I had a job for you, and I meant it. Come on.” He opens the door for you, locking the house behind him with a click.

As you both walk toward his car, you can’t help but ask, “Where was your car yesterday?” Strapping yourself in, you feel a mix of bitterness and curiosity about how you ended up getting caught snooping—you really should have paid more attention. If his car had been parked outside, you’d have known he was home.

“It was in the shop,” he replies casually, turning the key in the ignition. “I needed new rims. Have you eaten yet?”

Your stomach growls audibly, and you nod in agreement and Jaehyun stops to get breakfast. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked biscuits fills the car as he orders.

As he goes to pay, you watch him rummage through his pockets, brow furrowing in frustration. It’s then that you feel a pang of guilt. You had meant to return his wallet, found tucked away in your pocket after your first encounter. Nervously, you pull it out and offer it to him, trying to lighten the moment. “Whoops, how’d that get in there?” You joke lightly, but when you glance up, you notice the glare he’s giving you.

“Seriously?” he replies.

You stutter out an apology as you take a cautious bite of your biscuit, almost choking when you see where he’s pulled into next. Your eyes widen as you take in the imposing tall building—it’s sleek and modern, with huge glass windows reflecting the bustling streets of downtown. The heart of the city is alive, and your heart races with both excitement and nerves.

Jaehyun turns to you, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. “Surprised? I did say I had a job for you.”

“Uh, I thought we were just going to tidy up at home?” you say, trying to mask your nerves.

As you walk through the lobby beside Jaehyun, you can't help but notice the stares that follow you. Heads turn, whispers flit around as employees greet him warmly. "Good morning, Mr. Jung!" They say, beaming at him with admiration. When their gaze finally shifts to you, you catch a mix of confusion and curiosity on their faces. It’s both flattering and mildly embarrassing standing next to someone so well-regarded and polished. You try to maintain your composure, forcing a smile in response, even as you feel a bit out of place.

After navigating through the maze of cubicles and glass-walled offices, you finally enter Jaehyun's office—spacious, elegantly designed, with a view that overlooks the bustling city streets. The decor is smart and sophisticated, reflecting his professional persona. Once the door clicks shut behind you, Jaehyun makes his way over to his desk to settle into for the day.

Jaehyun leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as he looks at you with a serious expression. “You’re going to be my secretary,” he states plainly.

Your mouth drops open in surprise. “Wait, what? A secretary?” The idea is almost absurd. “Isn’t that a bit… much? I mean, you do realize I’m not exactly qualified for that, right?”

“I’ll teach you everything you need to know. Plus, it’ll pay way better than doing house chores.”

With a deep breath, you straighten your posture, letting determination creep in. “Whats there to lose?”

—

Being Jaehyun's secretary meant answering his calls, scheduling meetings, and running errands. Of course you could do those tasks… you just couldn't do them well.

A little desk had been set up in Jaehyun's office, where most of your day-to-day tasks took place. His office boasted expansive floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the city. At night, the bustling streets below transformed into a magical landscape, with streetlights, headlights, and stoplights twinkling like stars.

You couldn’t help but blame the close proximity of your workspaces for your increasing difficulty with even the simplest tasks, like getting his coffee order right.

You had brought him his morning coffee, like he asked. You still hadn't gotten used to running his errands in his car. You felt so out of place at the office and the whispers and curious glances from your “coworkers” only heightened your anxiety.

When you finally brought him the morning coffee he had requested, your heart raced with hope for approval. But as he took a sip, his focus remained elsewhere, and he set the cup down without meeting your eyes. “It’s wrong, but you’ll get it right next time,” he said, casually brushing off your mistake. “There's plenty of time for you to improve.”

You bit your lip, anxious to prove that you could handle this role. You didn’t want to be seen as a screw-up, but everything felt overwhelming lately. Jaehyun shoos you away, giving you a task to retrieve printed papers from the printer. Your mind was a flurry of thoughts as you returned, but when you stumbled slightly, you fumbled the stack of papers in your hands.

As the papers fall from your grasp, you accidentally knock over a coffee cup, sending the contents spilling across the desk. The dark liquid splashed over papers, pooling on the surface.

Heart racing, you froze, staring at the mess you had just created. “Oh no!” you exclaimed, scrambling to grab napkins from the nearby drawer, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Just breathe,” he said, reaching over to help you clean up the spill. “How do you call yourself a cat burglar with how clumsy you are?” Jaehyun asked, the bemused look on his face suggesting he genuinely wanted to know.

The napkins did little to absorb the liquid, and you could feel the heat seeping through, burning your fingertips. You let out a small wince, instinctively pulling your hand back. Jaehyun sighed at your reaction, and you flicked your wrist in an attempt to shake off the pain while still trying to contain the mess.

“Just hold on,” you muttered to yourself, picking up his laptop and elevating it to protect it from the potential disaster. The last thing you needed was to add an expensive repair bill to the debt you already owed him.

As you awkwardly juggled multiple items that had once laid neatly on his desk, trying to salvage the situation, you suddenly noticed Jaehyun stand up. He took off his suit jacket and, before you could protest, he used it to mop up the spilled coffee.

You gasped as the coffee splashed onto his jacket, but Jaehyun seemed completely unfazed. With purposeful strides, he walked over to you and gently took the items you were juggling, placing them down safely on a part of his desk that wasn’t sticky. Without a word, he grasped your hands, examining your fingers, which were twitching from the pain and already showing signs of red irritation from the hot liquid.

He blew softly on your fingertips, and for a moment, the world around you faded as you met his gaze. The warmth in his chocolate depths almost pulled you in, but before you could lose yourself in that moment, you quickly pulled away.

“I’ll go grab a towel. That’s going to make the wood sticky,” you stammered, turning quickly to leave, your cheeks burning from the tension that hung between you.

You hurried to the bathroom, running cool water over your fingers to soothe the slight burn. Leaning against the edge of the sink, you took a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts. After a moment, you gathered a few items from the cleaning closet, bracing yourself for what lay ahead.

As you walked back, you passed the break room and inadvertently overheard a conversation that made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

“She’s probably sleeping with him. Mr. Jung has never taken on a secretary before,” one voice whispered.

“That’s what I heard. Not to mention she’s terrible at her job. She just gets in the way. Last week she accidentally printed 300 copies of a page because she didn’t know to hit the cancel button! We ran out of ink because of her, and now I have to go downstairs for my copies until a new order comes in!” another voice chimed in, laced with irritation.

You bristled at their accusations, knowing they were talking about you. It stung, but you pressed on, scurrying past and heading back to Jaehyun’s office. After giving a soft knock, you stepped inside.

Jaehyun had moved away from his desk, now seated on the couch in the corner of his office. He was typing away on his computer, still nursing the little coffee he had left that you had brought him earlier—a cup you knew he didn’t like, judging by the face he made when he first tasted it. His sleeves were rolled up, the tie discarded on the armrest, and the first button of his shirt was undone.

You tried not to stare, focusing instead on the mess at his desk. Moving over, you began cleaning up the sticky residue left by the spilled coffee.

“Excuse me,” you clear your throat. “Is it okay if I drop this off at the cleaners?” you asked, holding up his soiled jacket.

He didn’t look up from his screen, continuing to type away on his computer. “Go ahead, but please be careful,” he replied, pulling his keys from his pocket without sparing you a glance.

“That’s okay; I can just walk. There’s one not too far from here,” you said, attempting to dismiss the need to take his car.

Finally, he looked up at you, his brow slightly furrowed. “You never had a problem with driving my car before. Did something happen?” He asked, setting his laptop aside, his focus entirely on you.

“Well, no, I just don’t want people to get the wrong idea. I mean, I just kinda showed up out of nowhere and suddenly I’m moving into your office and driving your car,” you tried to explain, feeling your anxiety spike. “No one knows why I’m really here, and I can only imagine the types of things people are imagining.”

“What kind of things could they be imagining?” He replied, staring at you blankly.

You laugh at the statement but when you realize he's not being sarcastic, your face drops. You often wonder what kind of person Jaehyun was and what he did for fun. He always seemed to be looking at the world for the first time.

"Well,” you began, gathering your thoughts. “Imagining the types of things I would’ve had to do to get this job,” you said, hoping he would fill in the blanks.

He waited quietly, eyes steady on you, prompting you to continue. “Things like sleeping with you to get this job,” you finally admitted, your heart racing as you vocalized the thought.

Jaehyun's eyes widened, and you noticed his ears reddening, making you wonder if he truly hadn’t known about the whispers circulating around the office. Clearing his throat, he seemed to collect himself.

“You don’t need to worry about things like that,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I don’t want you being gone long. Take the car, and if anyone has something to say, they can come to me about it.”

His gaze was stern, the kind that made you feel as though challenging him would be futile. You could sense the protective edge in his words, and it surprised you. There was a part of you that appreciated his willingness to shield you from the gossip. “Okay, if you insist,” you replied, unable to suppress the small smile tugging at your lips. The gesture felt surprisingly comforting. “I’ll be quick.”

He seemed to relax a little at your compliance, his expression softening. “Thank you. And, uh, drive safely,” he added, almost shyly.

As you walked to the car, you found yourself reflecting on his words. Maybe it was time to focus on proving yourself here, to rise above the whispers and make your mark in the company. Regardless of how you came to be in this position, you were determined to show them—and yourself—that you were worth it.

—

Ever since that day, when you arrived at the office, the halls were silent, and no one stared at you and Jaehyun as you walked side by side.. The building buzzed along like usual. You were relieved. Your shoulders felt lighter in the absence of judgmental glances, and instinctively, you walked a little straighter, head held high, eyes forward rather than downcast.

As you entered Jaehyun's office, you set your things down at the little desk he had allotted for you, diving into your daily routine of answering emails and organizing his meetings. You found your rhythm quickly, the morning shift feeling productive as you ticked off tasks. The sound of your typing filled the room, creating a comforting background noise.

Halfway through the shift, you stretched your arms overhead, stifling a yawn. Out of curiosity, you peeked over at Jaehyun to see how he was faring. He had leaned back in his chair, his neatly combed hair falling over his closed eyes, looking surprisingly peaceful in the soft glow of sunlight streaming in through the window. The light danced around him, illuminating his desk, and for a moment, you couldn't help but admire how beautiful he looked.

Even after a month of working together, you still didn't know much about Jaehyun's personal life. You had gone over the basics: he lived alone, was single, and kept his family life largely private. Each interaction left you with more questions than answers, and you found yourself scratching your head at the blank spaces in your understanding of him.

You assumed that the high-ranking position had simply been handed down to him—a legacy passed through generations. But you had never heard any whispers about a preceding CEO or what led Jaehyun to take the helm.

Amidst the riddles, the only one you had solved was his coffee order: a no-foam skimmed latte with an extra shot, plus three drip coffees with room for milk. It was a peculiar detail to cling to, yet it felt like a small piece of Jaehyun you could call your own, a little insight he had unknowingly shared during your numerous morning coffee runs.

Your thoughts whirled as you watched him sleep, a wave of warmth washing over you. It was strange how quickly you had grown accustomed to his presence and how much you found yourself wanting to know about the man behind the polished façade. What did he do on weekends? What made him laugh? What were his dreams and aspirations beyond this office?

Suddenly, he’s awake and staring back at you, and you stop smiling, turning to busy yourself. You clear your throat. “You have a meeting at 3 PM,” you mention, making an excuse.

“Thank you,” he responds.

He yawns and cracks his neck before standing from his desk. “We should go grab something to eat before then.”

You don't expect him to take you halfway across town; normally, you just grab him something from the cafe down the street. A bit apprehensive, you worry about making it back on time with the traffic ahead.

Silence engulfs the car as it inches through the congestion. Jaehyun sits relaxed in his seat, his thumb tapping a rhythm against the steering wheel as he looks ahead. You decide to kill the time with some conversation.

“How do you manage living in that large house all by yourself?” you ask, trying to chip away at the silence.

Jaehyun shifts in his seat. “You get used to it, I suppose. It’s peaceful. Quiet.”

“Yeah, but don’t you ever feel lonely? I mean, it’s a huge place. I can’t imagine wandering through all those empty rooms.”

He pauses, eyes still on the road. “Loneliness is…relative. I find solace in my work. It distracts me.”

“But work can only fill so much, right? Everybody needs someone sometimes.”

“Not everyone has someone to lean on, A. Sometimes it’s easier to just…keep to yourself.” Jaehyun looks over.

“I get that. I guess I’ve been on my own for a while too. Never really had a stable family or anything. Just me and the streets.”

“So, what was it like? Living like that?” Jaehyun asks curiously.

“It was tough. You learn to be resourceful and to adapt. But it also gets exhausting.”

You had a rough upbringing; your parents were neglectful, and as soon as you turned 18, they kicked you out. You turned to the streets to get by, making connections with a few questionable figures, but they taught you what you needed to survive. Soon, you were taking care of yourself and hanging out with better crowds.

“Why don’t you talk about your family or friends? It feels like you’ve built up walls—like you’re living in that house, but you’re not really there,” you ask.

Jaehyun takes a deep breath, carefully choosing his words. “It’s complicated. I’ve lost people—friends, family… When you start at the top, it’s hard to trust anyone. Everyone has their own agenda.”

You wince slightly at his words; of course he didn’t open up to you. Trust issues are understandable, especially after you tried to rob him.

“Sometimes, you just have to take a leap of faith and give people a chance. You never know who they might turn out to be,” you suggest gently.

He pauses, letting your words linger in the air, before responding with a nod of acknowledgment. As traffic finally begins to move, you turn to look out the window, watching the world blur by.

Eventually, the car pulls into a cozy little bakery nestled on a side street. The overgrown greenery surrounding it gives the place a charming, almost hidden feel. A LED sign in the window brightens the words “Doughyoungs.” Stepping inside, a small bell chimes, and the delectable aroma of freshly baked bread wraps around you like a warm hug. Your mouth waters as you glance around.

The bakery is empty, but it exudes warmth and invites you further in. The display case is filled with tempting treats: crusty artisan breads, flaky croissants, colorful macarons, decadent cakes, and an assortment of cookies. Your heart feels lighter in this space; it seems like a hidden gem, the kind of place that just might feel like home.

“BE RIGHT WITH YOU!” a voice calls from the back of the shop. A tall man in a flour-dusted apron steps into the front room, wiping his hands on the fabric, a broad smile spreading across his face.

“Oh, Jaehyun! It’s been a while!” He steps closer, his tone filled with a sense of familiarity. “You brought a friend?”

You glance at the man’s name tag—Doyoung. It clicks; he must be the owner of the bakery.

“Yeah, this is my secretary, Y/N,” Jaehyun introduces, gesturing toward you. “And Y/N, this is Doyoung. He’s a good friend of mine.”

“His only friend,” Doyoung corrects with a playful wink before extending his hand toward you. “Nice to meet you!”

The three of you settle down at a small, round table in the corner of “Doughyoung’s,” sunlight streaming through the window and illuminating the inviting atmosphere. A warm plate of croissants sits in the center of the table as Doyoung pours steaming cups of coffee for you and Jaehyun.

You reach for a flaky croissant, the buttery aroma enveloping you. You’ve just met Doyoung, but your instant fondness for him grows as he recounts hilarious stories about Jaehyun, leaving you wiping a tear from the corner of your eye at one particularly embarrassing tale.

“How long have you two been friends?” you ask, still chuckling.

“We go way back to college,” Doyoung replies, a reminiscent smile on his face. “We were both fresh out of high school, and honestly, we couldn’t have been more different. He was this focused, ambitious guy trying to conquer the world, while I was just… well, trying to figure things out.”

You nod, picturing the difference between the two of them. “What about you?” Doyoung adds, leaning in with a mischievous glint in his eye. “How did you manage to land such a serious guy as your boss?”

You stuff your mouth with croissants, desperately trying to think of an answer that isn’t a lie.

“Sorry to cut story time short, but I have a meeting at 3,” he says, finishing his coffee and rising to push in his chair. You follow suit, a little relieved that your escape has come so soon. Doyoung was kind and you couldn't bring yourself to lie to him, but you couldn't exactly tell him you had attempted to rob his best friend.

“It was really nice to meet you, Doyoung,” you wave goodbye, offering a genuine smile as you shuffle out after Jaehyun.

Doyoung smiles and waves as you leave, his infectious energy lingering in the air. The drive back is quiet, but this time, the silence feels different—more comfortable. The gentle hum of the engine and the sounds of the outside world fade into the background as you steal glances at Jaehyun, who remains focused on the road ahead.

—

Since you started working with Jaehyun, today was probably the first time that everything seemed to go your way. You even managed to finish your tasks early. As you straighten up your desk, gathering papers and tidying the space, you’re on your way out when he walks in, his expression curious.

“You’re leaving?” he asks, making his way toward his own desk.

“Yeah, I finished up early,” you reply, grabbing your bag. “I was just going to catch the bus home.”

He nods, pausing for a moment. “Did you organize that pile of paperwork I gave you?”

“All organized and labeled,” you confirm, a sense of pride swelling in your chest.

“What about that email I sent you to look over? Did you make sure everything was in order for that conference?”

“Done and scheduled,” you say, feeling accomplished.

Jaehyun looks like he wants to say something more, as if he’s searching for another reason to keep you there. “Well, if you’re finished, we can head out together,” he suggests, beginning to pack his briefcase.

“Are you sure?” you ask, a hint of hesitation in your voice. “If there’s something you need to finish up here, I don’t want to hold you back.”

“I can finish it at home,” he replies, already standing and heading toward the door.

You share a brief glance, and there’s something in his demeanor that tells you he genuinely wants your company. You can’t help but smile as you follow him outside.

When you get back to Jaehyun's house, you expect him to finally let you off the hook, but instead, he keeps you around a little longer. He finds minuscule tasks for you to do while he works in his study—organizing his files, dusting the bookshelf, separating his pens by color—anything to keep you in his office with him.

“Jaehyun,” you yawn, stretching your arms overhead. “I’ve done everything! I’ve even organized your books by the Dewey Decimal System. I think it’s time for me to head home.” You really don’t mind Jaehyun’s company at all; in fact, you enjoy being around him. Plus, every task you handle for him counts toward the debt you owe, but it’s getting late, and the last thing you want is for him to fuss about you driving home in the dark.

He glances around the room, searching for another task to assign you, but all he finds is a sigh of resignation. “Are you sure you don’t want to just stay over?” he asks, looking genuinely concerned. “There are plenty of rooms for you. It’s getting late, and you seem really tired. I don’t want you to fall asleep at the wheel.” He closes his laptop, giving you his full attention.

You think it over. Spending a night in his mansion feels like the opportunity of a lifetime. Staying here is akin to a luxury hotel experience. You weigh the pros and cons in your mind, but then a concern arises. “I don’t have any extra clothes,” you say.

“You can wear mine,” Jaehyun offers, and your face heats up at the prospect of slipping into one of his shirts—an oversized garment that would probably swallow you whole.

“I guess that would save me the commute of having to drive back over here in the morning.”

You can’t help but smile back, finding his stubbornness endearing. It’s moments like these that make you realize he might be holding onto you not out of obligation but rather because he enjoys your company. After all, he’s been doing everything in his power to keep you around, perhaps because he is alone most of the time. You’d probably become the closest person to him after Doyoung.

"Well, if that's all, I'm going to go get in the shower,” you say.

“Ill meet you upstairs, I just want to finish this up,” he says

You head upstairs, navigating your way to Jaehyun's room with an ease that comes from having spent so much time in his space. You step into the bathroom connected to his room and turn on the shower, relishing the luxurious feel of the gold dual heads—it’s almost like being in a spa.

As the warm water envelops you, the stresses of the day wash away. The towels are fresh and warm as you step out, feeling utterly pampered. You can't help but marvel at the abundance of skincare products lined up on the counter, likely a key contributor to Jaehyun's flawless complexion. After cleansing your face and brushing your teeth with an unopened toothbrush you found in his bathroom pantry.

Peeking your head out of the bathroom door, you confirm that the coast is clear. With nothing but your towel wrapped around you, you make your way toward his closet. As you rummage through his clothes, memories flood back to the first time you were here—a completely different feeling, one of nerves and uncertainty. Little did you know that you’d be invited back as a guest, spending the night in his company.

Finally, you find a large shirt that looks incredibly comfortable and toss it over your head. Pairing it with some pajama pants that are a bit loose around your hips, you tie them with the strings, feeling cozy and at ease.

With a determined smile, you head back downstairs, wanting to say goodnight to Jaehyun. As you enter his study, though, you find him fast asleep, his head resting on a pile of documents. His hair is pushed back by a pair of glasses you haven't seen before, and you can't help but notice the dark circles under his eyes. You never realized how taxing it must be for him to carry the weight of the company on his shoulders.

Gently, you shake him awake. “Jaehyun, come on, let’s go to sleep,” you whisper softly.

His eyes open slowly, taking a moment to adjust as he rubs them and slides his glasses back on. Confusion flits across his face before recognition sets in, and he begins to put his things away, a little disorientedly, but it makes you chuckle lightly.

You watch him for a moment, your heart swelling with fondness. You wish you could do something to help him relax—an idea pops into your mind. “I’ll meet you upstairs, okay?” you say before darting back up the stairs.

You run a warm bath; you make sure to adjust the water to just the right temperature. Bubbles foam up and you lay out his clothes neatly on the counter—a clean, comfy t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, paired with some fresh socks. The soft tune playing from a speaker fills the air, adding to the calming ambiance.

You hear the heavy footsteps of Jaehyun making their way up the stairs, and you work quickly, eager to ensure everything is perfect for him. When the door finally opens, he lumbers into the room, flopping onto the bed still clad in his work clothes.

“Come on, I ran you a bath,” you coax, gently taking off his glasses and tugging him up from the bed. His eyes are still closed, but he doesn’t resist, letting you guide him toward the bathroom.

“Your clothes are right here,” you say, pointing out the set you prepared for him. “Just let me know if you need anything.”

As you start to step away, eager to give him some privacy, he unexpectedly grabs your wrist. His grip is gentle yet firm, and he turns you back to face him. The air is thick with tension as he pushes you up against the sink.

“Help me undress,” he says sleepily, his disheveled hair falling into his eyes—a sight that makes your heart race. You’re practically chest to chest, and the proximity sends a rush of warmth to your cheeks.

Your face heats up and you find yourself a stuttering mess. Jaehyun seems to realize what his words imply “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m saying,” he fumbles, suddenly a little more awake. “Excuse me, I’m just really tired.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you reassure him quickly, your cheeks ablaze. “I want to help you relax. I can do that.”

He looks down at you, and you briefly meet his gaze before you shyly avert your eyes. As your hands shake, you manage to unbutton his shirt one by one, the fabric parting to reveal flawless skin beneath. He stands there, shirt completely undone, his gaze holding a mixture of curiosity and something deeper. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, and you find yourself captivated by his happy trail, your knees feeling weak beneath you. Jaehyun’s hands gracefully move to his belt, taking charge of the moment. You watch, entranced, as he slowly removes it, each movement deliberate and inviting. Your heart races in your chest, a frantic drumbeat that drowns out the soft music still playing in the background. You could practically feel the air thickening between you—a magnetic pull that makes you want to fall to your knees for him—to surrender.

His belt clatters to the floor, the sound echoing in the quiet bathroom, but then a hand catches under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. You’re drawn into the depths of his eyes, so close that you can feel the warmth radiating off him. “I’ve got it from here, thank you,” he says, his voice low and confident.

Reality crashes over you like a wave, pulling you back with a jolt. You process the situation: Jaehyun standing before you, his pants hanging loosely around his waist, his shirt sliding from his shoulders. Heat floods your cheeks.

In a rush, you scramble out of the bathroom, the words tumbling from your lips in a hurried mess. “R—right, I’ll be in the room across the hall. Good night, Jaehyun!” You don’t dare look back, your heart racing as you leave the bathroom, and you swear you hear a deep chuckle escape him, warm and teasing.

You slip into the bedroom across the hall, the plush bed feeling foreign and oddly comforting at the same time. You let out a heavy sigh, shaking off the feelings that swirled between you two.

The silence of the house wraps around you. It’s an odd comfort, yet it amplifies the sense of isolation that looms over you. You stare at the clock on the nightstand, ticking slowly towards the early hours of the morning. You toss and turn under the covers, unable to settle. Thoughts of Jaehyun haunt you—thoughts of the way he looked, the way he made you feel—the anticipation, the nervousness. You cover your face with the pillow in an attempt to silence your racing thoughts.

Suddenly, a soft but loud crash reverberates through the house, breaking the stillness. You sit upright, heart pounding in your chest. A sense of dread settles in as you carve your way through the shadows, crossing the hall to Jaehyun’s room.

“Jaehyun?” You call softly, knocking gently on the door, but it creaks open at your touch, revealing a scene that makes your breath hitch. Jaehyun is sitting on the edge of the bed, looking disheveled; his face pales from what you can only assume was a nightmare. There’s sweat glistening on his forehead, and you can see the stark tension in his shoulders.

“Hey, what happened?” You take a step in, closing the door behind you.

He runs a shaky hand through his hair. “I just—I had a nightmare. It’s nothing.” He waves you off, but you can see the unsteadiness in his demeanor.

“No, it’s not nothing,” you assert, walking closer. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. You can talk to me.”

His eyes meet yours—a fleeting vulnerability. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” you say softly.

“I dreamed about… losing my family. It’s a nightmare I’ve had more times than I can count.” He lifts his gaze to meet yours, and you can see the pain that runs deep.

You quietly urge him on, your heart thrumming within your chest. “What happened?”

He swallows hard before continuing. “I used to live here, in this house, with my family. It was our summar home. Life was chaotic but… it was fun. My parents were always busy with the company, but they made time for us. Then…it just all fell apart.”

You can hear the tremor in his voice, the unsteady strength behind each word. “There was an accident,” he finally admits, his brow furrowing as if the very thought is a wound that never heals. “A car crash that took them away from me in an instant. I inherited everything. This houses the company and the money. Sometimes I feel like an imposter, like I’m not good enough for all of this. It helps that there are fewer memories here. Its emptier.”

Your heart aches for him, the stark reality of his loss weighing heavily in the air. “I’m so sorry, Jaehyun,” you whisper, feeling a surge of compassion for the boy he once was. You couldn't imagine how alone he felt. The weight of an entire company thrust upon him at such a young age. You understand why he found it hard to let people in.

“It’s been years,” he continues, “but every now and then, I wake up in a cold sweat, feeling their absence like it was yesterday. Sometimes Its so bad I won't sleep at all.”

You step closer and sit beside him on the bed, your heart aching to comfort him. “You don’t have to carry this by yourself. It’s okay to talk about it. It’s okay to feel. You deserve to express that pain instead of bottling it up.”

You take a deep breath, the weight of your own past pressing against your chest. It feels only right to share your truth with Jaehyun now that he’s opened up about his own pain. “I get it, you know—feeling like you’re not enough. I felt that way growing up too,” you begin, your voice steady yet soft as you look into his eyes. “I didn’t have the stability of a family like yours. My parents were often absent, lost in their own world, and I was left to navigate everything on my own. I longed for connection.”

You pause, letting your words sink in. A part of you feels apprehensive, but telling your story also feels liberating. “I did meet some friends along the way. They were a bit snobby, but I loved them. They were everything I wanted to be—popular, carefree, surrounded by laughter. I wanted to fit in so badly that I was willing to do just about anything to be part of their world.”

Jaehyun nods, his gaze understanding as he absorbs your story. You take another breath, your heart racing slightly as you reveal more of your past. “I started to steal. Not just to survive, because there were times when I truly needed food, but mostly to impress them. To show them I could be just as cool, just as daring. Those friends were all I had, and I felt like I was grasping at straws. I never wanted to feel alone again.”

As you speak, you can see the pain in Jaehyun's eyes—he understands the need to connect, the lengths people go to feel accepted. “Most of the time, I felt like a fraud. Like I was pretending to be something I’m not. Their world wasn’t mine, but it was better than being alone. I guess in some way, I thought being with them would fill the emptiness, but it never did.”

“I know what it feels like to wear a mask,” he says, his tone gentle yet earnest. “It’s exhausting isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you reply, a small but relieved smile creeping onto your face. “But sharing it feels freeing. I think that’s why I wanted to tell you. Seeing you so vulnerable made me realize that maybe it’s okay to let myself be seen, too.”

Jaehyun reaches out, tentatively placing his hand over yours. It’s a small gesture, but it ignites warmth where your hands connect, sending a comforting pulse between you.

But just as the moment deepens, a loud crack of thunder rumbles outside, reverberating through the walls, making the lights flicker. A flash of lightning illuminates Jaehyun’s startled expression, momentarily freezing both of you in place until you’re instinctively drawn closer. A storm rages outside.

“Let’s… let’s just stay like this, okay?” You murmur, catching his gaze before looking down at your joined hands. “Just for tonight.”

He nods slowly, the tension shifting into something more profound. You slide under the covers beside him, and even though there’s a noticeable space between you, his warmth envelops you. The moment sinks into something intimate, something that goes beyond the mere physical closeness or the warmth of shared body heat.

— Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you hesitate before answering an unknown number. But curiosity compels you to pick up.

“Hello?”

“Where have you been?” The voice on the other end drips with annoyance. Taeyong. Just hearing him makes your stomach churn. It's a voice you've been avoiding, one you hoped you'd never have to hear again. It reminds you too much of the past your trying to forget.

You bite your lip, your gaze flickering nervously around the bustling cafeteria. It’s lunchtime, and the air buzzes with chatter as people gather at tables. Jaehyun is tied up in a meeting, leaving you surrounded by a few friends who have become a surprising source of comfort. You've been at the company long enough now that the initial gossip has faded, allowing you to forge genuine connections beyond just your complicated relationship with Jaehyun.

You cover your phone as you pull it down from your ear and mouth a quick sorry to your friends as you make your way somewhere else secluded.

“Sorry, you caught me at a bad time,” you murmur, moving away to a quieter corner.

“A bad time? You've been ghosting us for weeks! We have a big job lined up and need you back,” he says, impatience slicing through his tone.

“I told you, I’m not doing that anymore. I’m in a good place. I can’t mess this up,” you reply, your frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

He scoffs, a sound that irritates you more than it should. “You think you can just bail on us? When we had your back when no one else did?”

His words resonate, stirring unwanted memories. They taught you everything you know about survival.

“Without us, you’d be scraping by,” he adds with a cocky lilt that grates your nerves.

“What do you need me for?” You huff.

“A quick job. In and out. Johnny’s got his eyes on this jewelry store. Thinks it’ll impress some girl he’s crushing on,” he explains, the casual tone in his voice only making you more uneasy.

“A jewelry store? Are you serious? You know that’s risky,” you almost yell before you remember where you are.

“Yeah, well, the guy’s moving across the globe. Apparently, his heart is in Vegas or something. Listen, you owe us. Let’s call this your last job before Johnny bails.” He says.

You pause, weighing your options. You knew how persistent these guys could get and you didn’t need them digging too deep into what you’ve been up to. If they found out about Jaehyun, your not sure what they would scheme.

“If I do this, you lose my number. Don’t ever contact me again. I appreciate everything you guys did for me, but I’m trying to move on.” Your voice is firm.

“Great to have you back, princess. I’ll send over the details,” he says before hanging up.

Your hands were shaking and you could feel your throat close up as tears began to well in your eyes. You wanted to cry. You lean against a wall, trying to calm your breathing.

You could always ask Jaehyun for the money; whatever Johnny was looking to score from the jewelry store, Jaehyun could match it; the only issue is you already owe him enough and Taeyong would definitely ask you where you got such a large sum of money.

You could not get Jaehyun involved. You didn't want him mixed up in any of this. This was your problem, your past, that you had to fix.

You tilt your head back, trying to will the tears away. If Jaehyun found out—Jaehyun couldn't find out.

You try to act normal when you head back up to Jaehyun's office. You bury yourself in paperwork and emails as an excuse for how unnaturally quiet you were today. You couldn't avoid him all day, though.

“How was lunch” he asks after returning from his meeting.

You don't turn to acknowledge him; instead, you give him a “it was good” before returning to your work. He doesn't comment on how quiet you have been but you definitely see it in his eyes that he wants to. He walks to his desk without another word. He knows when to give you space and probably figured now was one of those times.

—

You were making mistakes again. The chaos of the office felt louder than ever as you stumbled through the busy halls, your arms full of files that seemed to have a mind of their own. Papers slipped from your grasp, fluttering to the ground like fallen leaves as you scrambled to collect them, heart racing as you barely managed to avoid having someone step on the important documents.

The printer was your sworn enemy today; it jammed at the worst possible moment, leaving you flustered and anxiously trying to free the stuck sheets while praying no one noticed your struggle. You were constantly tripping over your own feet, rushing back and forth, trying to juggle tasks that felt increasingly overwhelming.

Jaehyun's eyes lingered on you longer than usual, suspicion bubbling just beneath the surface. He could let a few things slide, but it was clear he was picking up on the fact that something wasn’t right.

Finally, you excused yourself, heart pounding as you left for the bathroom. Clutching your phone tightly, it buzzed with a message that made your stomach drop. You glanced down and read:

[Meet us at xxx on Sunday at 3 AM].

This was it—tonight would be the night.

You quickly composed a response, your fingers trembling slightly as you typed. As you headed back to the office, you tried to shake off the brewing anxiety. With every step, you reminded yourself that soon, after tonight, you wouldn’t have to hide anything else from Jaehyun. After tonight, everything could go back to normal.

You had packed a small duffel bag. Its contents reminded you of the significance of the night ahead. Dressed in all black, you made your way to Taeyong's place, the night air cool against your skin. As you arrived, the tension in your stomach twisted tighter when you saw Taeyong, Johnny, and Yuta waiting for you.

“Hey.” you greeted, trying to sound more confident than you felt. You joined them, your heartbeat thumping in your ears as you went over the plan, going through every detail. The stakes were high; robbing businesses was far more complex than the petty house break-ins of the past. There was far more security to navigate this time, and your palms began to sweat at the thought of what would happen if you got caught.

“Stop overthinking it,” Johnny said, flashing you a reassuring smile as he finished loading the last item into the car. “It’s gonna be just like old times.”

You rolled your eyes. “This is the last time,” you declared, shooting a look at the back of Taeyong's head as he settled into the driver’s seat but you couldn’t stop the thrill that snuck into your heart. There was a small part of you that loved this thrill, loved the challenge that the night would bring

Johnny slid into the passenger seat, and Yuta hopped in beside you in the back. “I understand if you don’t want to steal, but we’re still family,” Yuta said, his voice calm and steady. “Don’t forget that, no matter what happens.

Your heart clenches painfully in your chest, a storm of emotions battling within you. You knew you were being cold towards them, shutting off parts of yourself that had always been open to them. They were your everything before Jaehyun came into your life, your partners in crime and laughter, and now you felt sickness coil in your stomach at the thought of discarding them for something that might not even last.

You bit back tears, feeling the sharp sting of regret and longing. One part of you mourned the life you were desperately trying to hold onto—the stability, the calm, everything that came with Jaehyun. The other half grieved for the carefree moments you’d shared with Taeyong, Johnny, and Yuta and for the friendships that felt more like family than anything else.

“I’m going to miss you guys,” you finally managed to say, your voice wavering as you fought to steady it. “Let this be it for all of us.” Your words hung in the air.

“Y/N…” Yuta began, an understanding between all of you that couldn’t be voiced.

“Please,” you interrupted softly, desperation coloring your tone as you looked from one familiar face to the other. “I don’t want anything happening to you guys.”

Silence settled in the car. No one answered you; there were no reassurances to offer, no words that could change the precarious situation you were all in. They couldn’t up and leave this life and you knew it.

As Taeyong turned the key in the ignition, the engine rumbled to life, breaking the stillness. You glanced out the window, taking in the familiar streets you had navigated countless times, the memories flooding back.

—

The blaring alarms pierced the night like a siren's wail as you moved to grab one more bag full of jewelry. Every clang of metal against metal made your stomach churn. Your hands were shaking, and as you tossed another bag over to Yuta, you felt a sense of disgust washing over you. How had it come to this? You stuffed your feelings deep down and concentrated on the task at hand—the only thing you could control. Yuta caught the bag and hurried it to the car, urgency fueling every movement.

Then came the wailing of sirens that sent a jolt of panic through your body. The familiar blue and red lights flickered on the walls of the alley as they crept closer, and your heart raced faster.

“Out now! GO!” Taeyong shouted, urgency slicing through the chaos. You hurled yourself into the car just as the engine roared to life, Taeyong hitting the gas pedal with a force that slammed you back against the seat. Your head twisted around, searching for any sign of the approaching police cars. Relief washed over you when you didn’t see their flashing lights right behind you—yet.

Then, terror gripped you as a police car roared around the corner, lights ablaze, barreling towards you.

“We’re not going to make it!” You cried out, panic rising in your chest like bile.

“Shut up! Let me think!” Taeyong snapped back, his voice sharp and focused.

With skill, he made a sharp left turn and then another, weaving through the streets as your heart thundered in your ears. The fear began to lift, the thrill of escape practically intoxicating, until the dreaded sight of the police car revealed itself again, like a predator stalking prey.

He maneuvered the car swiftly into a dark alleyway, the bright streetlights fading behind you, swallowed by the inky shadows of the narrow passage.

“Get out!” Taeyong shouted suddenly, and you whipped your head around to look at him, wide-eyed, disbelief painted across your face.

“Are you crazy?” you exclaimed, your pulse racing even faster. The alleyway loomed dark and empty beyond the car.

“What are you—” Yuta started to say, confusion evident in his voice.

“I’ll lead them away; just go!” Taeyong insisted, urgency etched deep into his words. “We don’t have time!”

You knew if he was caught, he would never snitch—Taeyong was loyal, he would take the fall for you without a second thought. But the prospect of him behind bars was more upsetting than you'd ever anticipated.

“That wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go,” you murmured, helpless, as Johnny dragged you along through the darkness. You struggled to comprehend what was happening through the haze of tears obscuring your vision. Out of instinct, you pulled off your mask and dark jacket, tossing them into a nearby trash bin.

With your heads down, you walked in silence, the distant sirens haunting the air. It wasn’t long until Kun, Yuta’s friend, pulled up to a nearby park to pick you all up.

You didn't go home that night. Instead, you ended up at Chenle's place. He didn’t ask any questions when he saw your tear-stained cheeks; he simply pulled you inside and set about making some tea to soothe your frayed nerves. Chenle was always the one who understood you the most.

Tonight, the weight of secrets felt heavier than ever. You couldn’t keep it all inside any longer. As you sank onto his couch, the dam broke, and you began to tell Chenle everything—from the very beginning to the events of the night. Sobs wracked your body as you relayed the tale, the guilt and shame spilling out with each word.

You were a liar, a thief, a fake.

Chenle sat in silence for a moment, absorbing your confession. He let out a heavy sigh and rose from his seat, your teary eyes tracking him as he rummaged through his cupboard.

“We’re gonna need something stronger than tea tonight,” he said, pouring you a shot.

—

When you wake up the next day, a piercing headache pounds through your skull. You had fallen asleep on Chenle’s couch. Blinking against the sunlight filtering in, you glance around the large living space and spot Chenle sprawled on the other end of the couch, still blissfully asleep.

Rummaging around the couch cushions, your fingers finally brush against your phone. You remember that you powered it down last night, a decision made during the chaos of emotions. You turn it back on, the screen lighting up and revealing a barrage of messages.

YUTA [taeyong got away last night] [Just keep your head down and we should be fine]

JOHNNY [TY PULLED THROUGH LET'S GO!]

You can’t help but roll your eyes at that. “Selfish bastard.” you think, feeling a stir of resentment alongside the relief.

JAEHYUN [are you coming into work today?] [are you hurt?] [if your sick i can bring you something] [call me when you can]

You wince at the notification count—Jaehyun had called you at least five times this morning

Just then, Daegal, Chenle’s dog, leaps onto the couch, nudging your leg. Chenle stirs awake, cracking an eye open, squinting against the bright light that seeps into the living room.

“Taeyong was able to get away somehow,” you inform him quietly.

“Don’t know whether I should be happy or upset about that,” he replies, his voice still thick with sleep.

“I’m sorry about lying, and I’m sorry for bothering you, but this was the only place I knew to come.” You let out a heavy sigh, tossing your phone down on the coffee table.

“If it makes you feel better, I’m not upset that you lied,” Chenle says, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “I understand what you were going through, and if that’s how you made ends meet, I won’t judge you for it.” He stretches and yawns, then narrows his eyes playfully at you. “What I am mad about is the fact that you’ve been seeing a hot CEO and didn’t tell me about it!”

A weight lifts off your shoulders at his playful reprimand. At least you wouldn’t lose your best friend. You crawl toward him on the couch and envelop him in a warm hug. “I love you,” you smother him with affection.

You sit across the table from Chenle, a steaming plate of breakfast in front of you. As you tell him everything about your relationship with Jaehyun—the sweet moments, the little things that made you blush—it feels like a breath of fresh air. It takes you back to those late-night gossip sessions in high school, a sense of comfort washing over you. For that brief moment, you felt like yourself again, like the world around you wasn't being held together by a single string.

But soon reality creeps back in. You check the time and realize you can’t put off Jaehyun's calls any longer.

[im ok]

[where have you been?]

[Can we meet?]

[i can meet you at home]

Your heart clenches at the word ‘home.’ You aren’t sure when you two became this close, but the thought of lying to Jaehyun anymore feels unbearable.

As you approach the house, a heavy silence envelops you. It’s eerily quiet; the only sound is the faint shuffle of papers filtering in from Jaehyun’s study. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the confrontation ahead.

You clear your throat, your voice slightly shaky. “Hey,” you announce, trying to keep your tone steady.

Jaehyun looks up, his expression distant and unreadable. “Where have you been?” he asks, setting aside the documents that had consumed his attention. Frustration flickers across his face as he stands and closes the distance between you. He crosses his arms over his broad chest, the muscles evident even beneath the wrinkled fabric of his work clothes, a testament to the long day he’s had.

He leans back slightly against his desk, exuding a mix of authority and weariness. His glasses sit low on the bridge of his nose, casting a shadow over his eyes and intensifying his gaze as he studies you, waiting for an answer that feels heavy in the air

“I was at a friend’s,” you reply, your words catching slightly in your throat.

“Why weren’t you answering my calls? What’s been going on with you lately?” His voice is firm, perhaps too firm, sounding too much like your boss, and you can feel your irritation simmer.

“It won’t happen again. I’ve just been taking care of some business,” you mumble, but it feels inadequate.

“You need to let me know if you’re not going to show up!” he says, and you can see the frustration etching lines across his forehead. But beneath that, there’s something else—something more worried.

“Is this all I am to you? Just another one of your employees you have to keep track of,” you challenge, the heat of your annoyance flaring. “I’m sorry I didn’t show up to work, Mr. Jung!” You spit his name like it’s a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Don't do that. I was worried about you!” He snaps back, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and concern.

“I just needed some time!” You fire back, defending yourself but feeling the weight of his gaze.

“Time for what? I’ve been giving you time! Time to text, time to leave, time to make calls to whoever it is you’ve been talking to,” he replies, the edge in his voice sharpening with jealousy.

“Why do you even care who I talk to?”

His lips are on yours in an instant and he kisses you for the first time. You can feel his anger, frustration, and annoyance at you through the way he kisses you. It was as though the heavens had opened and a lightning strike had struck you, igniting every nerve ending in your body. The kiss was electrifying, sending waves of warmth cascading down your spine, and you felt as if your lips were two magnets with an irresistible force drawing them together. The kiss is harsh, and your teeth clink together as you kiss him back with just as much heat. Everything that had been boiling within you—the frustration, fear, and anxiety—pours out as you let it all go. Your fingers pull at his hair, and you bite at his lips. His hands grip your hips roughly, like he's barely holding himself back from breaking you. He pulls you against him, and you can feel him hard through his slacks.

The tension in the room was high, and when it snapped, it was like the barriers that you both worked hard to keep up around each other had fallen.

He switches positions with you, pushing you up against his desk as he kisses down your neck. You have half the mind to be mindful of the things that litter his desk, trying not to knock anything over as his hands explore your body. He senses your hesitation and clears his desk with a swipe of his arm, not breaking the kiss in his haste. You moan into his mouth as he lays you down flat against his desk.

“Who have you been texting?” he asks, his chest heaving. You knew it must have been eating him up over the past few days.

“It was no one. I’ll explain later, just don’t stop,” you whine and pull him back to your lips.

Your fingers start working at the pesky buttons of his shirt. You try to work them one by one, but only get half way before you give up. You slide the fabric half way down his shoulders.

You run your hands down his back, savoring the feel of his skin beneath your palms. His hands move to your shirt, pulling it over your head with ease. His lips trail kisses down your collarbone, causing you to arch your back involuntarily. He pulls your bra open, the fabric falling away to reveal your breasts. His mouth descends on one nipple, his tongue flicking against the sensitive nub as his hand cups the other breast, squeezing gently. His tongue circles your nipple, teasing and tormenting until you’re practically begging for release. His hand slides lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your sweats. His thick fingers pinch and tug at your clit, rubbing it in tight circles that elicit moans from your lips. You’re soaking wet, and it’s not hard for him to slip his fingers inside your tight pussy.

Your eyes meet his, and his pupils are dilated, like he’s lost in pleasing you. His fingers pump into you at a steady pace, and your thighs spread wide for him, giving him complete access to you. His hand presses against your abdomen as he curls his fingers inside you. He wants you to feel it.

“Say you’re mine,” he commands. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” your voice trembles, and you can feel your stomach clench with how close you are. Your back arches as you squirm under his ministrations. He leans down and attaches his mouth to your clit as he fingers you, and that’s all you need before you’re cumming all over his fingers. He continues to suck and lick at you until you’re pushing at his head to stop.

Once you have caught your breath, you pull your clothes back on as a heavy silence engulfs the room. You know you need to tell him the truth. You need to tell him what happened.

“I robbed a jewelry store.” You say as he helps you down from his desk.

He freezes, eyes widening in disbelief. “You did what?”

“There’s nothing to worry about! It’s over, okay? I just didn’t want to lie to you anymore,” you say defensively.

“Are you serious? What were you thinking?”

“I didn’t want to drag you into this! It was my past that got me here. I can’t rely on you to fix everything for me,” you explain.

“But you were the one who taught me not to bear it all alone!” he counters, hurt flashing in his eyes.

“Not this Jae, I couldn't drag you into this. I care about you way too much”

“And you think I don’t care about you? You throw yourself into trouble like it’s nothing, and you want me to just forget it? Tell me what really happened.” His gaze is piercing, demanding honesty.

You tell him everything.

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. “I didn’t want our lives to cross paths like this. I thought I could leave that stuff behind but they kept reaching out. It was just one last job, and I thought I could handle it.”

“You should have told me. I could have helped,” he says, brow crinkling in frustration.

“I was scared,” you admit, stepping closer to him. “Scared that getting you involved would get you hurt.”

Jaehyun sighs deeply, processing what you’ve just shared. “No more secrets, okay? You need to promise me that.”

—

The way your life had fallen into rhythm with Jaehyuns was scary; you couldn’t help but worry about what would happen when this arrangement finally came to an end. You found yourself practically living in his home, spending almost every day together. You cherished the moments you shared working side by side. Each laugh, each quiet evening, felt like a treasure you never wanted to lose. Still, you understood that, like everything else, even the best things must eventually come to an end. You just hoped that day would remain far off.

Unfortunately, today was that day. After the countless hours you’d spent with Jaehyun, both on and off the clock, you had officially repaid your debt. Of course, your coworkers gathered around the dinner table at the prestigious restaurant had no idea. They believed you were simply celebrating your one-year anniversary. You forced a smile; would they still see it as a celebration if they knew the full story behind your relationship with Jaehyun?

The atmosphere in the restaurant was a blur of laughter, clinking glasses, and the delicious aroma of carefully prepared dishes. As the celebrations for your one-year anniversary at the company unfolded around you, a wave of anxiety gnawed at your insides. You had worked hard for this moment, but all you could think about was what came next. You glanced down the table, where Jaehyun sat, a warm smile plastered on his face as he engaged in conversation with your coworkers, but he hadn’t looked your way once.

It was a stark contrast to the intimacy that you two shared. He didn’t bring up that night. He didn't bring up how he made you promise that you were his. For awhile, you thought you had just imagined it all but you could feel the shift in your dynamic. His touches lingering a little longer and the way his eyes wandered to you when he thought you weren't looking.

You find yourself looking back on your relationship with Jaehyun. Surprisingly, Jaehyun wasn’t the cold, distant person you first encountered; now, he trailed after you like a loyal puppy, and there was something sweetly comforting in the role reversal. You remembered how he had seemed so vast and imposing on your first day at the company, while you had followed him around like a lost puppy trying to match his stride. Now, as you walked through the hallways with your head held high, Jaehyun was the one keeping pace behind you, as if he feared losing you.

But as you looked at him now, across the expanse of the table, he felt miles away. The realization that the debt you owed him was fully paid loomed over you, casting a shadow that threatened to eclipse the joy of the evening. What would happen after tonight? How would your relationship change? You couldn’t shake the nagging fear that everything you had built together might soon unravel.

The cake arrived, beautifully adorned and lit with candles, drawing enthusiastic cheers from your coworkers. Jaehyun raised a glass to toast the moment, and when he glanced around, his eyes skated over you without recognition. You blinked, a pang of hurt lacing through you as the reality of it all settled in.

After the dinner wound down and laughter faded into the background, Jaehyun drove you back home—well, to his house. The silence hung between you like a tightrope, and it was nearly suffocating. Once inside the house, the familiar warmth enveloped you.

Finally, unable to contain your feelings, you broke the silence. “Jaehyun,” you started, your voice trembling slightly. “Why have you been so quiet tonight?”

He paused, fingers brushing through his hair as he leaned against the kitchen counter. The flickering light above cast shadows across his face, making it difficult to read his expression. “I—” he hesitated, eyes dropping to the floor, “I know your probably getting ready to leave since the debt is paid and I guess I was just preparing myself for that”

Your heart raced. “Is that why you haven’t brought up that night in your office?”

"I just didn’t want to grow more attached than I already am. I thought if I could pretend that night never happened, it would hurt less when you left.” He takes a deep breath as he searches your face for the right words to say. “I want you to stay with me. I know you’ve paid me back for everything… but I need you to understand that I want you in my life for reasons that go far beyond debt.” He took a breath, as if gathering the courage to continue. “I care about you. More than you know.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Jaehyun. I'm not going anywhere you don’t want me to,” you say, stepping closer to him and cupping his face.

Jaehyun reached up, touching the hand that was caressing his face. “Then let’s stop pretending that all this is just transactional. I want something real.” The sincerity in his gaze melted your worries away, replacing them with something brighter, something full of possibility.

When he leans down to kiss you, your fingers caress his cheeks, memorizing the contours as you breathe in the essence of him. His hands roamed over your hips, exploring with an urgency that both thrilled and comforted you. The way they eventually tangled into your hair was possessive, a silent promise that he wasn't going to let you go.

Your bodies pressed together tightly and with every passing second, the kiss grew hotter, needier, and wetter as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You panted softly, surrendering to him, allowing him to take over completely, losing yourself in him.

As the fervor of the moment intensified, you felt his hands traveling back down to your hips. Before you could process what was happening, you found yourself being lifted off your feet. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist, anchoring yourself as he backed you up against a nearby wall. The cool surface contrasted sharply with the heat radiating between your bodies.

The makeout session became heavier and more desperate as passion consumed you both. Each kiss felt like a promise, filled with hunger and longing, as if you were trying to convey everything that words could never fully express. Finally, as your lungs burn for air, you part, a thin string of saliva connecting you.

The way he looked at you suggested a man starved—and that only fueled your desire to explore him further. As his hips rocked against yours, a low moan escaped your lips, the friction backing your toes curl. You welcomed his touch and his kisses but you wanted more. You wanted to take your time, savoring each curve and contour of each other’s bodies.

His face nestled in the crook of your neck, his warm breath sending shivers racing down your spine. A dampness was forming in your panties, an exhilarating rush that clouded your thoughts. Gathering the courage, you gently tapped him on the shoulder, hoping to break the spell that enveloped you both.

He lifted his head, planting soft kisses along your neck, climbing up to press a tender peck against your lips. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes holding a raw sincerity that made you forget the world around you. “Should we stop?” he murmured, his voice low and earnest.

“It’s not that,” you replied, your breath coming in soft gasps as you regained your composure. “I just want to move to the bedroom.”

You expected him to set you down for a moment, but instead a gasp slipped from your lips as he tightened his grip. He effortlessly began to ascend the opulent winding staircase. The walls were adorned with portraits, their painted eyes following your every movement, as if they were witnesses to this unfolding moment. Rich mahogany railings glimmered under the soft light of the chandelier.

You felt like a princess from a fairytale, swept away on a wave of romance and fantasy as he carried you up the staircase. Yet, amidst the enchantment, a small knot of doubt tightened in your chest—a complicated mix of guilt and disbelief. You don’t deserve this, you thought, battling the insistent voice in your head. This isn’t your life.

This dreamlike encounter with Jaehyun, who seemed to embody the very essence of Prince Charming, felt almost too good to be true—like a scene plucked straight from a storybook. The way he held you, the intensity of his gaze, and the atmosphere were intoxicating. But hessitation tugged at you, casting shadows over the light of your fairy tale.

As he gently set you down on the edge of his bed, Jaehyun kneeled before you. He looked up, his deep eyes searching yours as if trying to read the secrets hidden within.

“What’s wrong, pretty?” he asked, his voice a low, soothing murmur that seemed to wrap around you like a protective embrace. His hands enveloped yours, thumb stroking over your skin in a languid, comforting rhythm.

You forced a smile, desperate to maintain the illusion of this fairytale moment, but you knew better than to lie to him. Jaehyun had a way of seeing through your facades, as if he had developed some sixth sense when it came to understanding you. The light in his eyes flickered, a mix of concern and curiosity, as he waited for you to speak.

This was all so surreal—when the world outside seemed so turbulent, here he was, the embodiment of calm and acceptance. But as much as you tried to bask in this moment, the shadows of your past crept in, reminding you of who you once were.

“About that night…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper, throat tightening. Sudden shame washed over you like a cold wave. “I can’t help but feel like I don’t deserve all of this.

Jaehyun’s gaze softened, and he leaned in closer, brows furrowing slightly in concern. “Everyone has a past. What matters is who you choose to be now.” he said gently, as if unfurling your tightly wound shame with each word.

“But I’m a thief, Jaehyun… I tried to steal from you. I lied and even robbed a bank” The admission hung in the air.

“I don’t see a thief when I look at you; I see someone who has struggled but is capable of so much more. Someone I care about.” His thumb brushes over your knuckles.

You looked down at him, finally meeting his gaze, and in that moment, you saw a man who would stop time for you if he could, who would pause the world just to shield you from its harshness.

He was your man.

Without a second thought, you leaned in and pulled him into another kiss, the warmth between you igniting once more, filling the room with an undeniable heat. He broke away for just a moment, a playful glint in his eyes, before he gripped your hips and effortlessly lifted you. In one swift motion, he tossed you onto the middle of the soft, inviting bed.

You bounced with a delighted laugh, the sound echoing through the air as you playfully crawled back toward the headboard, an exhilarated sparkle dancing in your eyes.

Jaehyun crawls to you and you tug off your blouse before he reaches you. It was like he couldn't keep his mouth off of you. He kisses the bare skin of your chest and stomach as his hands toy with the button on the dress pants you wore at dinner. He tugs them down your legs until your only left in your bra and panties. When he's done, you push at his shoulder until your able to sit up, stradling him.

You begin undressing him like the time in the bathroom but this time he lets you strip him down until hes in his boxers. You could see him straining against the fabric of his boxers and you whimper. You had to have him in your mouth. He tries to lay you back down, insistant on taking care of you but you shake your head; thats not what you needed right now. You connect your lips and grip him through his boxers. He lets out a slight gasp, and you can feel him twitch in your grasp. His eyes are closed, but you can see the tension in his jaw and the way his hands grip the sheets beneath him. You’ve been thinking about this for a while now, about how you want to unravel him, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left.

“Can I show you what's been on my mind?” You whisper against his lips, your voice low and sultry. “Do you trust me?”

His eyes flutter open and he nods. You slide down until you settle between his legs, your fingers trailing over the fabric of his boxers and you kiss along his chest. Finally, you pull him out of his boxers. His tip is a pretty pink, begging for your attention, and there’s a vein that follows along the base of his cock, pulsing with every heartbeat. You make a mental note to pay extra attention to that. His breath picks up before you can even do anything, and when you finally tear your eyes away from his cock, you see that his cheeks are dusted pink and his ears are red. Even at a time like this, you find him endearing. You smile, but it comes off more sultry than you intend.

You gather spit in your mouth to wet your tongue, savoring the anticipation as you lean in closer. The moment your lips wrap around his tip, he lets out a sharp gasp, his body tensing. You take him into your mouth, feeling the warmth and saltiness of him as you bob your head gently. You circle his tip with your tongue before pulling off to lick him from base to tip, spreading your saliva and making him slip easier into your mouth.

You look up, meeting his gaze as you take him deeper, your throat working around him. Jaehyun’s head is thrown back, his chest heaving as he tries to keep still, but his hips betray him, thrusting slightly into your mouth. You moan around him, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine. Each time you pull off, you leave a trail of saliva connecting you, making your next descent even slicker.

“Fuck…hah,” he breathes, his voice rough and strained. “You feel so good.”

“When was the last time someone did this for you?” You ask, your voice muffled around his cock, noticing how sensitive he is.

“I can’t remember,” he groans.

“We’ll have to fix that, won’t we?” You say seductively, your eyes locked on his as you take him back into your throat, not holding back as you show him the pleasures he had probably been withholding from himself. You moan around him, pumping him vigorously as you suck on him, making a show of giving him the sloppiest head possible.

He was polite in the beginning; he didn’t push your head or tug your hair, and he didn’t buck his hips. Instead, he gripped the sheets and bit his lip, trying to control himself, trying to be a gentleman. But after he hits the back of your throat a little too roughly and you gag on him, he loses it. The way your throat convulses makes him bury his fingers into your hair, pressing you down until your nose is nuzzling against his happy trail. Tears burn your eyes as you let him drown in his pleasure, your own arousal building in response.

You know your panties are ruined at this point. Your free hand snakes down between your legs, your fingers gliding over your clit, circling the swollen button as he uses your throat. You barely notice the ache in your jaw, too consumed by the sensations coursing through your body. Suddenly, he pulls you off, his breathing ragged, his eyes wild with desperation.

“Lay down,” he commands, his voice gruff and urgent. You don’t even have time to follow his command before he manhandles you onto your back, his hands moving with a mix of urgency and precision. Desire and desperation swirl in his eyes as he practically rips your panties from you, his fingertips grazing your inner thighs as he strips them away. He’s far too impatient to unclip your bra, so he just pushes it up, exposing your breasts to the cool air.

Your back arches into his touch as he attaches his mouth to your nipples, flicking and nibbling at them with a ferocity that leaves you breathless. You moan, your nails scratching down his arms lightly, urging him on. He kisses down to your thighs, leaving a few love bites along the skin there that have your hips twitching for more. Finally, he pulls back, his eyes raking down your body like he’s seeing you for the first time.

“Hurry, I need you,” you cry, your voice breaking with urgency, your fingernails digging into his arms.

He shushes you with a kiss, his lips pressing against yours in a brief but intense moment of connection. Then he lines himself up, coating himself in your slick, making sure he’s slick enough to slide right in. Your breath hitches when he presses against your entrance, the head of his cock nudging at your folds. You were definitely feeling how big he was. Not only was he long, but he had a nice girth as well, stretching you in ways that had you clenching your teeth a little at the sensation.

“Relax,” he murmurs, his voice soothing as he begins to push in. “Let me in.”

You gently press him back, creating a space between your bodies, your eyes drawn to where your bodies connect. You can feel him deep inside you—only a third left before hes in completely and you already felt full. A soft whimper escapes your lips, vulnerability flashing in your gaze as you look up at him, searching for assurance.

“It’s okay, baby. You can take it,” he whispers, his voice low and soothing, sending shivers down your spine.

You stay still, allowing the initial sting to fade, his fingers intertwined with yours, rubbing gentle circles into your skin as a calming gesture. You focus on the warmth of his hand against yours and the tension slowly dissipates. The discomfort begins to melt away, replaced by a delicious ache. You give him a slow nod, a silent agreement, and he takes that as his cue. His hips pull back, and you can’t help but watch, mesmerized, as he slips out—he was so big but still so perfect.

“Keep your eyes on me, baby. Focus,” he urges, his voice a deep rumble that resonates in your core.

You meet his gaze and its so intense you almost shy away. “Thats right baby, im right here”

One of his hands grips the underside of your thigh before pressing it up against your chest. your back arching involuntarily at the delicious rush of pleasure that courses through you. You could feel him in your gut in this position. His eyebrows furrow in concentration as he drills into you again and again. Short, fast thrusts gradually deepen into long, languid strokes that have you pushing at his hips weakly.

“Fuck, Jae… it’s too deep,” you cry out, your thighs trembling.

He pulls out slowly, leaving you empty and momentarily disoriented. “Turn around,” he commands, a sheen of sweat glistening on his brow. You pout, suddenly regretting opening your big mouth.

Taking a deep breath, you prop yourself up on your hands and knees, glancing over your shoulder at him with a pleading gaze. “I can take it, I promise,” you reassure.

“We’ll see,” he replies, his tone low and teasing, as he leans down to lay a line of soft kisses down your spine.

You shudder at the gesture and just as the last kiss lingers on the small of your back, you feel him slip inside again. This position gives him more control but he isn't as deep as before. You roll your hips back into him, urging him to fuck you as deep as he was before.

But he slows, his thrusts coming to a halt as he watches you move, his gaze dark with pleasure as he just watches you fuck yourself on him. He hums a noise of pleasure. He lets it go on for a little while longer before he is gripping your hips and stilling your movements.

“Let me take care of you”

He pushes the space between your shoulders, urging you down into the softness of the mattress until you're face down, ass up. With one hand gripping your hips, he resumes his thrusts. Picking up a brutal pace and this time you don't fight it. Each thrust strikes with precision, sharp and calculated, as he takes you from behind. His movements are relentless.

A low growl reverberates from deep within him. In an instant, he pulls you up until your back presses against his chest, your body perched in his lap as he continues to drill into you. You tilt your head back against his shoulder, gasping as his hands roam over you. One grips your chest, kneading your breast, while the other slips between your legs to expertly rub your clit. You let out unrestrained moans, the sounds echoing in the room without a care.

Your thighs tremble and you can feel tears prick your eyes as the overwheliming sensation consumes your body. Each thrust, each caress pushes you closer to the edge, and your chest heaves as you squirm in his hold. It was too much.

“I got you. Let it go baby.” he whispers breathily in your ear. His hand that was kneading your breast moves to hook beneath your shoulder, anchoring you down as he thrusts deeper, pulling you back into him as his hips drive into yours.

It isn't long until your an incoherent mess, until finally you collapse against him as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave. You moan shamelessly, feeling your heat pulse around him and coating his cock as your release spills out, dripping down his balls. Jaehyun groans, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he holds you in place, burning himself into you over and over again until hes lightheaded.

“Just a little more, baby, please. You can take it, yeah?” Jaehyun's voice wavers slightly, the raw need evident as he edges closer to his release. The urgency in his tone drives you wild. With a few more deep thrusts, he finally reaches his peak, filling you with thick, hot strands of cum. You shudder in his grasp, a wave of pleasure washing over you as he exhales harshly, breaths mingled with soft curses. “Fuck… mmmh… fuck,” he murmurs.

Jaehyun breathes as he slowly tries to catch his breath. You both take a few moments to come down from your high. His grip loosens at last, and with a gentle touch, he pulls out, laying you delicately on the mattress. You sink into the sheets, breathing heavily as he gets up to run a bath.

A few moments later, he returns, scooping you up in his strong arms. Together, you step into the warm water, which soothes your tired muscles instantly. You sit in front of him, letting the warmth encapsulate you as he takes on the role of caretaker, washing your back caringly.

He massages your shoulders, and you let out a content sigh, a sound that embodies the perfect blend of exhaustion and bliss. The water laps around you, and you feel a sense of tranquility settle in, wrapping around you just as warmly as his hands.

After you both wash up, you're enveloped in a comfortable silence. You were too tired to talk anyway. You lean back against him, feeling his fingers play in your hair. Eventually, when you finally muster the energy to pull yourselves from the bath, he wraps you both in warm towels. You don’t even bother with clothes, opting instead to pad back toward the bedroom

The bed was a chaotic mess, sheets crumpled and soiled from the nights activities. You yawn, too exhausted to even think about changing the linens, and way too impatient to wait for Jaehyun to take care of it. Without hesitation, you reach for his wrist, pulling him gently out of his disheveled room.

You guide him into the room across the hall—the very one where you first stayed. As you get under the covers, you tug them up and slip in beside him, legs tangling with his as you get comfortable.

Jaehyun can’t tear his gaze away from you as you settle next to him, the soft glow of the moonlight illuminating your features. Your eyes feel heavy, and you yawn again, surrendering to the fatigue. “Go to sleep, Jae, stop staring like a creep,” you grumble, nuzzling deeper into his chest.

“I'm afraid to,” he admits, his words muffled against your hair as he leans down to press a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“Why?” you ask, brows furrowing in concern.

“Because I’m afraid that when I wake up, this will all be a dream,” he confesses.

“Jaehyun. I’m right here,” you murmur with a soft yawn, your eyelids feeling heavier by the second. The warmth of his body and the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat lull you into a sense of comfort that makes it hard to resist the pull of sleep. “I’ll always be… right here,” you promise, your words fading into a whisper as sleep finally overtakes you.

[lovemomhatepolice]

max verstappen nswf alphabet (part 1) (minors DNI!)

navigation taglist requests

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Max is very understanding after sex. He knows that many times you are very exhausted by your activities. He tries to give you as much warmth as he can and always listens to what you say to him so that each time is even better than the last. He really enjoys hugging you to himself and so does lying on top of you, knowing that you are next to him. B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) He likes his body and thinks he is appropriately athletic and tall. He has received many compliments in life because of this, so it has had a strong impact on his self-esteem. But he likes his arms best, especially after a workout, when his veins are strongly visible. In your case, he is a big fan of breasts. He loves to lie on them when he has a bad time. He loves to touch them when you make love. And he loves to look at them at every possible opportunity. C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Max isn't some cum fanatic, but he can't resist the sight of you nimbly swallowing whatever comes out of him after your perfect blowjob. Well normally he goes on his knees himself then (figuratively and not) D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) It may sound unprofessional, but when Max first saw you, he already knew exactly what he wanted your sex to look like. I know it sounds quite perverse - but you had exactly the same thing, and, to my horror, your visions were not at all different from each other E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Max is already 27 years old, of course he is experienced. I would not exaggerate to say that he is very experienced, but he is. He's had partners before you, with whom he's been with longer and shorter, so he's already experienced a lot - that's why he's skilled with his tongue or hitting the right spot every damn time F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Doggy. Max knows what he wants and he's good at it. Taking you from behind gives him a lot of confidence and ability, so this is the best position for you. Oh, he still loves the way your back arches and has the ability to pull you close to kiss you. And you love it, because in this position Max can give you the most pleasure, especially when he's angry and emotional, and this is the easiest way for him to caress you G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) He is rather serious when you make love. Sex is not strictly physical for him, and he likes to give a lot of emotion to it, so he is not a fan of emotionless fucking. And as for being moody at such moments, yes, it happens to him, sometimes you laughed or joked, he's not against it, not one bit H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) I think Max is cut down to nothing there. He doesn't look like someone who likes himself in a thicket of hair, so he's perfectly coiffed there. As for you, he would probably also prefer it to be either to zero or with some I don't know, maybe a stripe through the middle? I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) He loves to whisper romantic words to you and tell you how good you are to him. He hasn't experienced much of this in his life, so he tries to be as warm to you as possible. And he loves taking you out for romantic dinners before that J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) This is a busy man. His stamina is not at all as high as it might seem, due to the fact that he is constantly living under stress and fighting for the championship. When you're not next to him and he doesn't have anyone to have sex with, he doesn't even think about masturbation, preferring to save it for the moment of your return, when you'll be next to each other and he can give it his all

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Max would like to be blindfooled. For once in his life, for it to be someone else who took control and he didn't know what was going on. Oh, until he shivers when he thinks about it. And then there's the realization that you would be the one making him feel good and guiding him to the end while he's blindfolded, how much he would give up for that…. L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Max is traditional. He's fed up enough with the media world and the hype surrounding his career that he most enjoys making love to you in bed, in your apartment. If it happens otherwise, of course, he doesn't complain, but he likes to be in your quiet surroundings.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Very often he feels like having sex before the race. That's when he gets tugged by higher emotions and is just overstimulated to the point that all he wants is to be in your arms. Or when you're wearing your skimpy pyjamas, oh god. Max purposely bought you more pairs of one and the same pyjamas, just to see you in them every day.

A/N: part two will be here soon! (If anyone wants me to tag them - let me know in the comments)

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[aspecpplarebeautiful]

Is it bad to be in romantic relationships even though I'm aromantic? I want companionship but I'll never be able to love them in the way they want me to.

You can have whatever kind of relationship you want, Anon. There's no rules, and some aro people do still have romantic relationships. And even if you don't have any romantic feelings yourself, it's still possible to enjoy doing romantic coded things or still want that kind of companionship or closeness, and romantic relationships are one of the easiest ways to get it.

You're right that some alloromantic people do want a romantic relationship with someone who also has romantic feelings for them, but that's not universal. Some alloromantic people don't care as much about that sort of thing, there's also other aro-spec people who enjoy romantic relationships. So if this something you really want, there are compatible people out there, it's just a matter of finding one of them. It's also OK to be in a relationship where you both have different feelings for each other, and it's all good so long as the dynamic works for both of you.

If you're goal is companionship, you could also consider looking into QPRs, which is any kind of relationship that isn't simple to classify as a romance or friendship. So relationships that have those kind of complex dynamics, or even more platonic relationship that involve the type of commitment and companionship you see more often in romantic relationships can all fit under this category too.

And yeah, you are definitely not a bad aromantic. And you are allowed whatever kind of relationship you want or you think will make you happiest. Aromanticism is a spectrum, and all parts of that spectrum are an important part of the community, including romance favourable aros.

All the best, Anon!

[scentedpeachlandcreator]

Can I rant and ask for advice as well?

Because everyone is like “oh, just persist”, “ignore 3D”, “once you assume, it’s already yours”. But guess fucking what? I’ve been doing it but where the hell is everything I’m manifesting. It’s mine now right? So, why can’t I use it? To give context, there’s a contest I joined. And I’m aiming for the grand prize. Literally, believed that it’s mine. Just waiting for that email confirmation since the winner was supposed to be announced/notified last week. And nothing. The fuck is this??

Also, with regards to manifesting, I have been having a hard time. Because if I believe, and I do, but why is not in 3D. I can ignore 3D, but I also need what I’m manifesting here in 3D cause damn I want you to start changing my life.

I keep on spiralling. Cause why the fuck is it not here when it’s supposed to be instant? The fuck am I doing wrong. I’m so tired and exasperated!! Cause what the fuck is this? If I’m god, whatever I think/believe is. So why isn’t it?

Like I’m changing my self-concept to someone who’s lucky and win whatever I join in. But I just joined a game today (different from the contest), and I’m the only one who left not winning anything. Even when I’m consciously manifesting.

Wtf is this? What am I doing wrong?

Can you just give me the simplest and easiest and fastest way to manifest cause this is making me cry more that it is helping me.

Okay here's my opinion.

You are sooo focused on the 3d and i understand that because if i was in your position i'll do the same thing.

But let's look at it from another perspective.

If you were a lucky person, would you feel confident that you'll win? Of course you will.

That a state you will have, you'll identify with someone who's lucky and Always win in any game or competition, you feel me?

I'll tell you a little scenario that happened when i watched Harry Potter (if you know it lol):

Ron was going to play the quidditch game and he was going to play as the guard, but he felt super stressed and he really wanted to do good in the game so their team would win, so Harry told him that he literally putted the Lucky potion in his drink so ron quickly drank it and felt super good but then, hermione told harry why did you put it in his drink and that it was a stupid Idea, Harry told her that he didn't put the Lucky potion, he literally tricked Ron into thinking that he putted the Lucky potion in his drink, and Guess what? Ron won the game.

You understood it? That means it all about Mindset, if you were confident that you'll win in your game, it was going to happen.

Confident means that you are so sure that it gonna happen and you'll win the game.

What makes you confident? Because you know that you already have it in imagination, it already happened, it like you watched a movie so many times that you know the drill, you know what going to happen next, so treat imagination as that.

Persist in imagination do not persist in the 3d.

When you see something happening in the 3d, go check your 4d instead.

When they Say that you already have your desires, they mean that there's a reality where that version of you already won that game.

I advice you to read this post.

If you want more information read this.

Don't be sad, you Can Always revise and change it, even if it too late.

Remember: consciousness is the only reality.

Xoxo, Eli

[the-s1lly-corner]

May I request various creepypastas x teen!bullied!reader who goes to them for comfort? Platonic of course <:

Ticci Toby, Laughing Jack, Jeff the Killer x bullied!teen!reader (platonic)

ran for the first time in a few years today and woooooooough boy my shins!! owie!! OUCH! notes: reader is gn, no specified age for the reader outside of them being a teenager, reader is a normal kid save for the fact theyre friends with monsters and killers cws: bullying mentions

TICCI TOBY

god he feels for you big time- it feels like so long ago that he himself was in your own shoes- and yet not that far away in his past. he loathes bullies, and when you open up to him about whats going on at school hes going to be so.... pissed...

hes not going to go out and kill them for you, that would get you in so much trouble, but hes not going to lie when he says the idea isnt tempting... oh who is he kidding? hes above going after a bunch of students... maybe... it does hit a specific nerve in him

as a compromise he teaches you come backs- ways to make them falter and how to humiliate them back. granted a lot of them is stuff he wished he had the nerve to say when he was in your shoes. youre simply doing younger toby proud by doing this

that said he does give you some pointers in the event that you need to physically fight someone... no one said you had to fight fair, aim for the shins. kick them in the shins. please kick them in the shins plsplsplsplsplspls

JEFF THE KILLER

like toby he also has a history with dealing with bullies- though the way he dealt with them may be a little too extreme for your taste. whatever, theyre youre problem ultimately hes not going to force you to carry a knife around on you

that being said hes going to shit talk them every chance he gets, if they can dish it then they can handle it... even if theyre not there to hear it... you do bookmark some of the things he said to repeat down the line, some of the things he utters is enough to make a sailor flustered! enough to make the devil take some notes. he does not hold any punches

rather than trying to get you to fight back- be it physically or verbally-... okay well he IS going to help you in that area because hes not going to have some snot nosed brats push you around- hes going to try to help you let the harassment slip off your back

see he knows the one thing they hate most is not giving them a reaction- take it from him, someone who likes getting a reaction from those around him

LAUGHING JACK

hell if its possible you could probably keep him in his box and carry him around with you in your backpack- out of the three hes the easiest to hide in plain sight thanks to that little quirk of his!

he is not above tripping someone, when no ones paying attention hes going to use his long arms to trip your bullies up and make sure everyone sees them fall over "nothing". or trip them up if they try to get physical with you- definitely makes you look a lot more skilled in fighting than you might actually be. and hes quick too, hardly anyone would be able to tell whats going on before hes dipping his arms back into your bag

whispers jokes and insults in your ear in live time to repeat to the people trying to make you feel like shit... sometimes he has no filter and he may go to far but ultimately its on you if you want to put those words out into the public

always has something sweet on hand as a little pick me up

[rest-your-head-in-my-lap]

Fuck. I cannot emphasize to you the beauty of having love written in words, on paper, via text, whatever the method... Something special about being able to look at something physical that tells you just how much someone loves you. Being able to look at it whenever and think to yourself: "They put so much effort into this..." Because they did, even if it only took 5 minutes to scribble down, even if it's not a literature masterpiece that's not what matters. What matters is that they went out of their way to pin down the words best they could and write them down so you could see them. It's no replacement for verbal, they are different things, but they are beautiful differences. Beautiful and lovely unique methods of communication and acceptance and love.

[icedille]

one of my toxic traits is that i can't stand writers as a class of people WITH THE EXCEPTION OF A FEW ONES ok some of them are also the loves of my life but. they're crucially a minority so apart from those they're all SO annoying to me. and the fact that i'm also one doesn't help. anyway if you're a writer and i don't know you personally you should die

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent game related things .. hrmm...

[compacflt]

uhhh i don’t know how this works, but, in case i haven’t specified, my writing requests are open! idk, send me an ask, idk, i literally don’t know, and it DOES NOT have to be in my specific AU, im down for anything!!! I have some more free time now & this is a good exercise!! if u want me to write stuff, 🫡 here i am!*

* no promises i get to ur ask. But I will try my best.

[rewh0re]

honestly why do men

rant in tags

[solipseismic]

essay prep’s going well.

[movedtodykedvonte]

Sometimes I think, would it be better if Spamton died with someone he knew around. Or would he prefer to do it alone

I think Spamton dreads dying alone. If that was the case then I think he would’ve given up a long time ago. A lot of his dialogue alludes to having thoughts about wanting to end himself and projecting a lot of his self loathing on to others but I don’t think it is necessarily a desire to be dead or die alone (whether he thinks he deserves it or not) but rather more of wanting whatever torment he’s been going through to end. I mean he gets really excited at the idea of joining the fun gang, he was looking for a new beginning not a proper ending.

If Spamton could choose who he had to die around I feel like he wouldn’t want people he knew personally. There would be so much he didn’t get to say, so much the others wouldn’t have time to tell him. The Addisons and him could never have a proper reconciliation, him and Swatch could never clear up whatever went down and he can’t get any closure, never knowing if Mike was safe. Imagine trying to ease into the light when the shadows of your past are blocking it. If anything, I feel like it would create unnecessary stress for him as he would want so bad to feel like he was around people that made him feel safe in his final moments but that just isn’t true. Not to mention the others having to deal with the fact the last time they saw him it was when they abandoned him and the next being him dying of almost direct correlation to it.

However, with people Spamton doesn’t really know I feel like it’d be easier, almost peaceful for him in a way. They wouldn’t have any preconceived ideas or feelings, nothing to get off their chest to ring in his head as he goes out. It would be shallow comfort but he would find that favorable to the intimacy of someone closer that would be intertwined with turmoil. It’s the act of care from a stranger, someone oblivious to his crimes that would bring him ease in my mind, the idea that someone could and did care about him again even if they had no idea who he was in the moment. It was something he craved for years, part of a lot of his motivations and I feel like he’d be more at peace dying around someone who pities him than someone that has guilty or unfinished business with him.

TLDR; I feel like Spamton needs to not be alone physically in death but emotionally I think he would like to keep things distance. In his last moments he’d understand that he is not going to get that closure he needs and would rather face dead with dignity rather than panic at what is left unresolved.

[flowers-that-sing]

how come when a cis guy dresses fem ppl will still recognize him as a guy but when i, a trans guy, dress fem, ppl go "ah so youre NOT trans" or think it means i am "actually" a girl.

no. i am just a femboy. that is all.

[circusclownproductions]

seeing a lot of videos that are like “I didn’t know babies couldn’t have water” so here’s an incomplete list of things you need to know before having a baby

- the obvious, they can’t have water bc milk is incredibly high in water already so excess water leads to over hydration

- babies cannot have honey until 1

- if ur breastfeeding your kid and saving excess milk, make sure you label what you pumped in the morning vs at night bc your body produces different melatonin levels throughout the day and giving your baby daytime milk at night can make them more alert and fuck up their sleep schedule

- idk why ppl keep saying this but swaddling your babies or getting them those baby straight jacket things is not abuse. It chills them out cuz it reminds them of the womb

- babies have a dandruff like buildup on their head called cradle cap, and it’s very easy to deal with and remove with just some baby shampoo, a gentle scrub brush (MADE FOR BABIES!!) and a comb. It does need to be removed tho cuz it can be very painful after a while. This can also continue to happen late into toddlerhood it’s normal

- you have to clean out the creases of your baby’s skin and hands and feet they WILL collect dust😭😭

- you cannot bathe your baby until their umbilical cord naturally falls off. Use a warm damp rag until then

- tummy time is actually very important

- your baby might have a misshapen head at first (not all the time but sometimes) this will either sort itself out or they’ll need a corrective helmet ask your doctor

- I wouldn’t recommend having your baby leave the house very much until they’re at least 6 months old, especially if they’re born near cold and flu season cuz the common cold can kill a newborn

- you’re not an awful horrible person for having postpartum depression and it’s always a million times better to let your baby cry a few minutes longer than normal while you regain your composure than to freak out and give ur kid shaken baby syndrome

- you’re not an awful horrible person for giving your baby formula milk either

- don’t put shoes on your baby it’ll compromise their toe box and balance

- babies put every single thing in their mouths

- the easiest way to burp a baby is to hold them straight up (spine straight) and hold their head a bit higher

- always support their head they barely have necks

- if your baby fights away food, fights tummy time, vomits every single time you burp them, is gaining or losing an unreasonable amount of weight at a time, wheezes after eating, or goes red after eating, chances are they’re probably allergic to the type of milk they’re eating (again ask a doctor but these are just some signs it’s not just colic)

- they will wobble a lot when learning to do things but you gotta fight the urge to help them every single time cuz they gotta learn

- they’re not always spitting out baby food cuz they don’t like it they just don’t know how to eat. Like they don’t know how to push food down they only know how to stick their tongue out so be patient

- babies craniums are broken up into three parts at first that later fuse together, this is to help make birthing easier but it results in a small EXTREMELY sensitive spot in the top of their head that has no protection. This puts their brain at a high risk. Always protect their soft spot

- read to your baby!! Get cute bright colorful sensory books with sight words and read them to your baby it makes such a huge difference in their educational growth and will help them acquire a love for reading early on. And talk to them never shut up just say whatever comes to mind all the time this will strengthen their vocabulary growth also.

- babies poop like a lot. A lot. an unreasonable amount. Bring back up clothes and more diapers than you think

- no pillows or stuffies in the crib and only use a muslin blanket unless it’s especially cold to prevent suffocation

- babies kick reflexively until they’re out of their newborn scrunch (they stay womb shaped for a while) and if your baby is crying and pushing at the swaddle try letting them flail around for a minute

- consoling your baby is not spoiling them ! They need comfort and they will learn to self soothe on their own

- singing lullabies actually works, they can recognize your voice a consistent place of comfort from the womb and the cadence of lullabies is literally engineered to create a calm headspace

- for the love of god do not get boring ass beige toys. Colors are important for their neurological development

- babies are very responsive to praise from a young age so be as supportive of them as you can

- babies get constipated a lot and you have to do like tummy massages to help ease their pain the easiest way is to lay them on their backs and hold one foot in each hand, kick their feet like bicycles, scrunch up, and then stretch their legs out

- holding them on your hip too much will not cause bow legged-ness if your baby is bow legged that was always gonna happen

- they drool so so much and you have to get bibs for them so they don’t get chest eczema

- don’t use scented products on their skin cuz their skin is sooo much thinner than ours

- when your baby first starts sitting on their own never walk away from them without setting up a nest of pillows and blankets around them. Even minor head trauma can mess them up sometimes

- this one is kinda morbid and scary but sometimes babies just die out of nowhere and it’s no one’s fault or anything it’s called sudden infantile death syndrome(SIDS) and it’s about 1.3k deaths on average per year in America so not super common but still very real. 90% of these deaths happen during the first four months however edit: apparently it’s bc of an enzyme deficiency which at the very least you can take steps to try and prevent

- smoking and drinking during pregnancy WILL affect your baby and your breast milk and also might contribute to SIDS cases

- babies sometimes have a big red mark on them somewhere called a stork bite immediately after birth but typically it goes away

- babies can’t see very well for a while after birth and they’re VERY wobbly so they’ll typically bonk their head into your chest and face a lot while trying to support themselves

- female babies might have smth similar to a period the first few days after birth, this is because of the hormone transfer that happens during the birthing process and the days leading up to it

- male babies get random erections for the first few days after birth(hormone transfer again) literally do not be weird about this it’s a baby

- things like weaning your baby onto solid foods, potty training, weaning off pacifiers etc, can actually be directed by the baby and will happen naturally will minimal guidance from the parent(some guidance is still necessary) although I would do individual research into baby led weaning for food to prevent choking

- get those chewy feeding pouches to help with weaning

- the most random things will scare the hell out of your baby don’t take it personal 😭

- baby carriers are life savers (tulas are one of my favorites)

- once babies hit toddlerhood they’re tougher than you think, and a lot of their reaction is based on YOURS. they’re always going to be looking to you for how to react to a situation. Remain calm and if they’re ok they’ll calm down but if they’re genuinely hurt they’ll keep crying

- babies will most likely get ridiculously attached to an inanimate object and you have to keep this thing intact at all costs until they’re old enough to abandon it or they will throw a FIT. I got a lemur plushie from a zoo once and every single one of the kids has bonded their soul with it until about 6 years old and once a month I have to stitch him back up

- don’t compare yourself to other parents. Maybe your kid isnt getting grass fed wild caught north Atlantic cheerios but at least they’re fed. If your kid is alive and healthy and happy you’re doing a good job

- you will need 3 car seats, an infant seat, a grow with me toddler seat, and a booster seat

- getting a good diaper bag is a MUST

- the hair a baby is born with will most likely all fall out or they’ll get a bald spot on the back of their head where they sleep cuz their hair is so fragile and thin but once it grows back it grows back thick

- get like 20 muslin blankets so you always have a backup when the main ones are covered in spit up

- the babies grip IS stronger than yours (keep your hair up and keep pets away best you can)

- your best bet for your teething baby is a pacifier you can put your finger in so you can massage their gums and some chewing toys numbing cream can be dangerous and should be used sparingly

- go ahead and come to terms with the fact you’re gonna have to use a Frida Baby to manually remove snot

- babies can get hair and thread wrapped around their toes and fingers that can cut off their circulation try to make a habit of checking

- don’t hit your kid please it’s nothing but trauma and fucked up coping mechanisms from there pls empathize with your child they’re a person too

- be careful not to pull too hard on their arms and legs(like during play or holding their hand while they walk) and NEVER pick them up by their hands this will very easily cause dislocation

- they might have a little tooth like callous on their lip from their pacifier. This does not hurt them and it will go away but it may hurt during breastfeeding

- breastfeeding will make your boobs different sizes

Yeag that’s all I can think of rn but yk i Will add as I remember stuff ppl are also adding things I forgot in the tags in case you’d like to look thru that as well <3

[cat-got-your-tongue]

ׂ╰┈➤ 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞.

Logan howlett x fem!reader

CW: smut | unprotected sex | fluff | praising | Soft logan | dominant logan | oral (male and female receiving) | light spanking | light choking | spitting |

Word Count: 2.6k

Authors note: Hi, please be kind and show support. I got a little carried away with the smut part. Oops. Not proofread. I'm sorry if there are any mistakes. My requests are open.

Divider by @saradika-graphics

My work will always be 18+ Minors do not interact.

Logan and casual dominance just came natural. You had to get used to it at first. You never really had someone take care of you the way he did. It was always the little things that showed you that he really did love you.

Pours your coffee for you while you hold out your mug.

Enjoys cooking and even feeding it to you. Especially breakfast because he knows you're very tired to do anything at all early in the morning.

Cooking together, and it's really him giving you the easiest tasks. "Wash the vegetables for me, will ya?"

"Be a good girl for me and hand me the butcher knife."

"Let me do that for ya" is what you'll hear a thousand times a day

When you're out in public, logan loves putting his hand on the small of your back and guides you around.

While you're getting ready for a date night together, logan absolutely loves getting kneeling to help put your heels on and then brushing his fingers up your leg to tease you. Maybe he'll give the inside of your thigh a little kiss, too. You constantly tell him you can do that yourself, but if it was up to him, you'd never have to lift a finger to do anything.

If you're at a restaurant, he'll order for you because he knows sometimes you get a little flustered and nervous. "It's okay. I'll tell'em what ya want, don't worry." He'll reassure with a smirk as he winks at you.

He likes to keep an extra cardigan of yours in his truck just in case it gets cold later on if you're still out together. He'll wrap you up in it and hug you to his body for extra warmth even if you tell him you're fine.

Hand on your thigh while he's driving at all times.

Logan always opens doors for you. When you're getting out of the car, he's running over to help you out. He'll even put his hand between your legs to prevent you from accidentally flashing anyone your underwear if you decided to wear a dress that day. Once you're out, he'll look you over and help fix your clothes and the bottom of your dress down just in case anything you didn't want showing was.

"That a new dress? Looks pretty on you."

He loves holding you close to him by your waist. He's always touching you and looking behind him to make sure you're right there.

If you're trying to reach something from the kitchen cabinet, he'll come up behind you and get it. His body pressed to your back. He loves the way you look up at him while you wait for him to hand you whatever it was you were struggling to get down.

Logan will give the top of your head a little kiss and pat your ass softly. "Here you go, baby, next time, jus' call for me."

You always got butterflies in your stomach when he did that.

"Come sit in my lap." he'll gently command you after he planned a movie for you and him to watch.

He'll rub soft circles on your hip. Your head resting on his shoulder as you both relax in eachothers embrace. Everything felt serene and calm. That was a feeling logan was never used to, but he never stopped chasing after it.

When you're not sitting in his lap and instead lounging on the couch with him as you're reading a book. Logan will have one of your ankles in his hand and softly stroke your skin absentmindedly.

Backs you up against a wall just to kiss your cheek.

Washing your hair in the shower and wants to rub your lotion on after he gets you dried off. It's not even in sexual but it always feels so intimate.

Loves to help you get dressed for bed. He'll grab on one of his t-shirts and a makeup wipe to get you ready for sleep. He'll pull back the blanket and tuck you in right next to him, with you being the little spoon.

Will lay naked with you in bed and kiss you from head to toe. Once again, it is always sexual but more tender and intimate. Sometimes, it doesn't even lead to sex. He'll hold you until you fall asleep on his chest.

Whispers how much he loves you while you're sleeping.

Logan isn't controlling even though sometimes you may feel like he is. You only felt that way if he on the rare occasion tells you no.

The only times he ever tells you no if is you want to go out alone somewhere at night. He'll drive you there and wait outside while you go have some fun with your friends. He's definitely not letting you go out alone, and he has no way of protecting you in case something were to happen. Logan has lost way too many people in his life. He's got lots of enemies. Any one of them could pop up at any moment.

— NSFW —

When he's fucking you it's a little more intense.

He loves having you ride him even though he knows you struggle to take him that way.

"You need some help, huh? My sweet girl can't do it by herself? " His large hands hold your waist to help bounce you on his cock.

"Grab onto the headboard, and I'll do the rest."

"So good, my good girl." He breathed as you whimpered. He'll thrust his hips up to meet yours. His swollen tip almost hitting at your cervix.

You felt one of his hands leaving your waist to travel up between the valley of your breasts before wrapping around your throat. Logan never squeezed down enough too roughly.

You never understood how he could be so rough and gentle with you at the same time. He's choking you but whispering in your ear, calling you his "good girl." And how perfect you are." He's peppering kisses all along your face. Spitting in your mouth while driving his cock hard and deep in your pussy.

Or when he's got you on your knees sucking him off.

"Slowly," his voice would get serious, but his hand would come down to caress your check.

Logan will always give you that lovingly look before pushing your head down all the way your nose was buried in the soft curls above his cock. Your eyes are watery with tears as you gag when he hits the back of your throat. Your makeup is all smeared, and all logan thinks as he's looking down at you, and you're looking up at him is how lucky he is to have you.

"Your throat feels so amazing. You always look so beautiful like this. Mouth full with your pretty eyes lookin' up at me."

After he cums he'll gentle pull his cock from your mouth. He bends down to give your lips a sweet kiss before squeezing your cheeks to open your mouth back up. He wants to see if you swallowed every drop he gave you. He knew you did. You always swallowed every bit of cum he released your on tongue.

Logan is obsessed with having you on all fours at the edge of the bed. Your ass up high, and your face smashed into a pillow. His face buried in your cunt from behind. His nose tickling and prodding at your entrance while his tongue flicks over your clit. His soft lips wrapped around to gently suckle on your aching bud. His hands on both of your hips, keeping you firmly in place. Every once in a while, he'll spank you to keep you focused. Not too hard. But hard enough to make you yelp.

"Aw, does this position embarrass you?" He cooed at you.

You'll nod because it does.

"Tch tch, that's just too bad."

You always felt so exposed like that, but you knew it was logans favorite position to have you in. He could do literally whatever he wanted. You tried to hide your face from him, and he'd spank you even harder for that. He wants to peak over and see your face twisting in pleasure. He wants to see your mouth open and drool all over your chin.

"Does my tongue feel good?" He mumbled against your cunt. His tongue now circling the edge of your opening.

"Good because I'm gonna fuck ya with it before I give you my dick" He growled from behind.

As he continued to tease at your entrance, he'll spit on it and use the pads of his fingers to rub it all over your dripping pussy — showing a little more attention to your clit. While he tongue slowly pushes inside you. He knows he's got you right where he wants you when he hears that little gasp you make followed by a moan. And how you seem to back up against him for more.

Your eyes close, and you grip at the bedding. All that embarrassment you were feeling was slowly fading away as logan sunk his tongue deep inside your pussy. His warm tongue moved and lapped up the mess you were creating on his mouth. He hears you whine and can feel your walls contracting around his wet muscle. He knew you were holding back your release until he said it was okay to let go. You were so perfect, too good to be true. He couldn't deny you.

"be a good girl and cum for me. I want you to."

After you cum hard to the point you're body is trembling. He'll come up and lean over your back, soothing his hand down your spine. " "shh shh, It's okay. I got ya. You did so well for me."

He won't stop talking you through your orgasm until he knows you're alright.

"Breath for me." Logan nuzzled the side of your face.

"There she is, there's my girl." He running his hand up and down your back, trying his best to relax you.

His voice was low and husky in your ear. He helped bring you back down to earth; sensing you were getting a little lost there for a second.

Once you're completely calmed down, he'll gently move you to lay on your back. Your legs dangling over the edge of the bed with him standing between them. His cock fisted in his hand as he slaps his leaking tip on your over stimulated clit. He loves to rub his precum all over that aching bundle of nerves he had been bullying all night. Your pussy glistening from your orgasm mixed with his spit. The messier he made you, the harder it seemed he got.

Logan loves watching your body twitch and hear those soft moans escape your lips. He takes forever to bury himself in you. He wants to see you lose control until you're a blabbering mess of empty promises. Promises you'll blurt out just to feel the head of his cock brush against your opening. Your juices dripping down to the curve of your ass and he licks his lips, wanting another taste. Logan would get you so worked up to the point that it was as if you believed he wasn't going to give you what you wanted.

"You gotta calm down." He coaxed you.

"You're making promises you can't keep right now, honey. I need you to relax. You really think I'm doing all of this to not fuck you?

He reassured you and ran his cock between your wet folds, spreading them apart. his tip nudging at your clit once more, making you bit down on your lip. Your hands stopped tugging at the bedding to reach out for him. You hissed at the sensation as your eyes filled with more tears.

"Move your legs up and hold the back of your thighs for me. Can ya do that?" Logan now commanded you.

All you could do was rapidly nod and do as you're told with your hands firmly gripping the back of your thighs — to keep your legs spread and pussy on display for him.

"Logan, I need you." You tried desperately to plead with him. You both had beads of sweat dripping down your body. Your head felt dizzy, and your chest was rising and falling faster.

Logan arched a brow at you. His way of asking if it was okay to finally split you open around himself.

"I-im okay." You stammered as you looked up at him. "I promise....m'ready."

His gaze softened as he slowly pushed his thick cock inside you. Both of you sigh in relief. Your walls hugged him so tight while he continued to push until he was completely buried all the way in you. He stilled for a few seconds to help you adjust.

"Fuck you're wet." He noted with his cock gliding in your pussy with ease.

Once he was fully inside and you were well adjusted, he didn't hold back. He began pumping in and out of you hard and fast. Your tits bounced as he picked up the pace. Your body was making the most vulgar wet sounds that seemed to only spur him on. Your moans grew needier and louder. You struggled to keep hold of your legs. Logan took notice of that and placed his hands on top of yours to help you.

"There we go, that better?" He bent forward a little more to whisper.

"Gettin close Lo," you whined, biting down hard on your lip.

"I know I can feel it." Logan loved when you warned him about your orgasm as if he couldn't feel your walls squeezing his cock tighter the closer you got.

Every thrust he gave, he hit your g-spot, making you lose your train of thought. A few more strokes, and you're cuming again more intensly than the last time. You're mewling and calling out his name. Your back arching off the bed but logan doesn't slow down. If anything, he seems to be going faster. Until he's spilling his cum all over your sensitive walls, as he milks himself inside you.

"You alright? Let me clean you up. Come on." He finally spoke up, out of breath as you laid there completely fucked out. But you managed to weakly nod your head yes.

"Can you walk?" He asked, you felt him gently pulling out and his eyes glanced from your face to where his cum was now dripping from your pussy.

You tried not to get embarrassed as his gaze seemed to focus on the mess he created between your legs.

Logan fought the urge to lick it clean from you. Or shove his fingers in your cunt to prevent anymore of his cum from spilling out.

When you didn't answer him again, he gave you that knowing look and arched his brow. Normally, he'd tell you to use your words, but he knew sometimes it was too hard for you to do.

You quickly shook your head. Obviously, you can't walk. You can't even feel your legs. He lets out a breathy laugh. "You'll do anything to get me to carry, huh?"

You gave him a small smile and tried to sit up.

He pretends like he's seriously complaining, but truth be told, all he wants to do is carry you. All day, every day, if you'd let him. He picks you up bridal style, carrying you into the bathroom where he sets you down at the end of the tub.

"We're gonna get cleaned up. I'll make you some food and then we can watch TV." He doesn't ask for anything in return, just that you be near him.

[birdantlers]

A heartfelt and grievously expanded-upon update to this—please, please read the whole thing if you can. reblogs much appreciated.

(DISCLAIMER, for all who are saying reasons like abusive parents/legal stuff/toxic ex/triggering memories/page got deleted/job/stalkers/bullying/[[insert any other shitty life thing]], This is not concerning that—personal safety & health ALWAYS comes first, and is worth more than any media ever could be. This is my biggest reason for defending that autonomy. I would be a hypocrite to say I hadn’t deleted triggering posts of mine or ones that got me in trouble with my family.)

it genuinely makes me sad and kinda upset when someone purges all their old art off the internet like. barring harmful content what if someone liked that. What if someone would have. And now nobody will ever know and it's just gone. even people's old invader zim askblogs or whatever getting deleted feels like a micro alexandria to me and that's just something I made up. I wasn't even thinking of a specific one it just stresses me out. Is this the autism I don't get why nobody else seems to freak internally abt it like I do. I see artists whose blogs I've never even looked at go like "man so glad I deleted all my old stuff it's so clean" or saying they throw out art from when they were kids I'm like. how are you not hurling. How is that not distressing that is literally your tree rings why would you do that. I want to see what's out there. people want to see it I promise someone out there likes it

...don't they??? Does everyone get quietly irrationally upset by this as me, or is this just hyperfixation/autism/some amalgam of the two. I'm not a hoarder or obsessive compulsive or anything like that so i wonder..

Anyways. reblog if you had a favorite amateur youtube animator in your childhood whose channel got nuked without a trace one day that you still think about.

I wanted to attach this video because it condenses my point very well. A TLDR of sorts. Please watch the whole thing, it genuinely changed the entire way I think about art as a concept.

(2nd vid is "Subjectivity in Art")

“The moment your art touches an audience, the ownership shifts in an irreversible way. [They're] not having an art experience with you and your intentions. They're having an art experience with the art object.

“You can't just burn your past; it's not even your past to burn anymore. It's other people's history as well. Whether or not you like it, that art is already bonded to somebody's soul, and if you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it.”

The digital age makes it very easy to distance or detach yourself from the impact your work has—be it art, fanfic, videos, even memes. Online content is as important to people now as any other media, if not more. But it's also by far the easiest, fastest, and most effective form of it to erase from public access. Media so unbelievably important to people and in general. Yes, you—with the 2010s purple sparkle dog speedpaint. I still think about that speedpaint all the time, because it was the first time i learned that you could draw on a computer, and I thought it was cool as hell. I still do.

I do wish there was a stronger culture of preservation and consideration for this, because every time I see people talk about snuffing their stuff because it doesn't personally resonate with them anymore, I just think ...what about all the people it did?

I've seen lots of people saying "get over it, it doesn't even matter," but it fucking does. It does matter. Even if I didn’t make it, even if I don’t have to deal with being the one who made it, even if I'm naturally inclined to be distressed by it—It still matters. And there’s nothing you could ever say to suddenly make it not matter, because there’s nothing you could ever say to make it not matter to me.

Don't devalue the act of creation. Don't dismiss something you made. It's out there, in people's thoughts and hearts and souls, and that is real. Even if you don't know it. Especially if you don't know it. Especially in a world where physical media is being snuffed out, the internet is constantly dying without any physical remains to recover, social isolation is rampant, and simply because independently produced content online is still media.

Fanfiction can hold equal or greater significance to someone as a book, but you can’t unpublish a book. Authors don’t have a button that can vaporize every copy of their work across all time, but fanfiction authors do. I’m not counting people who download fics either—when you buy a book, that transaction is over. But online, you have the power of unending transaction that can be terminated instantly at your will. The process of publishing fanfic vs. publishing a book may be different, but people’s connection to the art is the same intensity.

So yeah. I do get depressed about the Internet being a constant Alexandria, but the times I get the most depressed is when I click someone's page and see that all their work is gone because they're ‘curating a new aesthetic’ for their page or some shit. Or weeding out all the "ugly" art. Or just went on whatever the hell 'thrill deleting' is, because they just get a kick out of it.

Fuck it—yeah! It upsets me! I’m not wrong to say that. I’m saying it!

Under the cut, because it got long as shit! Also don’t worry the ending is way sappier and more ‘beauty of human nature’ vibe so it’s not all doom and gloom lol

What if that was someone's favorite art of that character. What if someone read that 'cringe oneshot' on the worst day of their life. What if that Warriors meme vid is still burned into a college student’s mind despite being gone for 10 years. What if it's actually not just you and the ones and zeros you rent out to the world—secure in knowing the original will always be on your computer for you to do whatever you want with it.

I really, deeply wish there was more of a general awareness of this, because even though social media can be used like a diary, that’s functionally the opposite of what it is. It’s social media. When you post, it’s no longer in a vacuum, even though you can’t see the real humans that content touches—often deeply.

Media is history. You shouldn’t burn that history just because you personally believe it isn’t worth saving.

Because it’s no longer just your personal opinion. It’s no longer just your personal work. it’s. history. Memory of media is not a suitable replacement for the media itself. If it was, we wouldn’t save anything at all. Nostalgia is an agent of that. The definition of nostalgia is grief for moments of the past that are inaccessible, and the biggest balm for that pain is accessing a physical reminder of those moments. That opinion of yours is no longer personal. It’s weighed against uncountable people across all time that your thing is ALSO personal to. People who would, and will mourn its absence.

How many times have you joined an older fandom only to discover that some of its most popular works are gone? How many times have you routed through random blogs looking for scraps people hopefully reblogged? how many times have you used Wayback machine desperately praying that a fan fiction or a YouTube video will be there? How many times do you look up crunchy old vines or YouTube videos or anime AMV‘s? How many times do you remember old fanfic.net sex that impacted you in middle school, only to shake your head and go ‘probably no point even looking.’

i mourn the absence. No, people can’t and shouldn’t have their agency over what they post revoked, but they should be conscious of that weight. If you’re reading this and getting extremely annoyed, and you’re not in the pink text above,,,, good.

I honestly do hope it gets under your skin. I hope it sits with you. I hope you feel it every time you hit that button, and whether or not you do hit that button—if you hesitate, if you remember this, even spitefully, I’ve done my job. I am howling into the void. And I may not want an answer, but I do want my anguish to be heard and remembered. Because it isn’t me just being melodramatic.

I know I sound that way writing so much, but if my favorite writing YouTuber can drop trow this week and go, "yeah, sorry, all my video essays from less than a year ago that you listen to in the car all the time? I'm "rebranding" my content so i deleted them. besides, my personal views don't really agree align with the analyses i did, or the techniques i taught in them anyway. Sorry if some of the literal tens of thousands of you used them, but I don't want to feel shackled to having youtuber "classics" tied to me”

….then i guess I'm just going to have to sound dramatic! That fucking sucks! Hours of work and knowledge gone! This was a new channel too. It’s very likely there’s no archive of any kind, because who would think someone who worked hard enough to write, record, and edit hour-long videos, would just turn around and nuke it all? I definitely didn’t see it coming, but I did just start a new screenwriting class a few weeks ago, so I’ll tell you at least one person is REALLY missing those fucking videos right now. Because a lot of them were about specifically screenwriting, which I know jack shit about. and that specific person’s pace, editing, and style of breaking down information was the best suited style I found that I could focus on and absorb. There’s no replacement for that. No alternative for his individual perspective. his jokes. his opinions.

No, they may not resonate with him now, but in this decision, he’s put up a big middle finger to everyone who might have. And he has like 100k subscribers! Those are confirmed supporters! Imagine how many silent and untethered observers are feeling this loss right now. Imagine how many will not have it in the future.

If he never posted them at all, we wouldn’t know we had it. It wouldn’t be a loss. But we did. We did have it. Until he decided that no, we didn’t, because he just happens to be the one out of millions of individuals holding the button to burn it in a hundredth of a second.

His personal work, the attachment I had to it, and the ways that it helped me are now just ripped away. I am one person out of millions, literal MILLIONS of people who saw and liked this content before it vanished. The soul has been ripped, the access severed, and by CJ’s (and my) definition, the art is functionally dead. Not for the YouTuber or anyone else lucky enough to save a link or download, but everyone else. From this point until the end of time, even if people even two weeks from now don’t know it. Even if someone who stumbles upon his channel today, doesn’t know it.

We only mourn the concept of Alexandria because we had some kind of scope for what was inside. Yes, maybe you got self-conscious and deleted your 12 year old deviant art account. Do you know who else is doing that?? THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS of other twenty somethings who ALSO feel self-conscious about their old socials. Art. Fanfic. One direction fan videos. anything.

Suddenly, an unquantifiable amount of information from your age group—an entire age group in 2012, is. gone. And we will NEVER know what’s been erased from that history. We will NEVER know what could have been significant to us ten years from now. Twenty years from now. A hundred years. A thousand.

You could have deleted a fanfic that would have been someone else’s new go-to panic attack distraction tomorrow. You could have deleted a video someone used to laugh at with their friend who died yesterday. When you delete something, you risk tearing a hole in unknowable personal histories.

The Internet isn’t just a big library of Alexandria. It’s a library containing libraries. And those libraries have their own libraries in those libraries have their own as well. libraries inside libraries, inside libraries, ad infinitum. To conceive the amount of destroyed history on the Internet is crushing.

And I just can’t help but I ask myself how in gods name people can choose to contribute to that, instead of reposting everything to trash heap alts titled “hall of shame” or some shit.

You can offload to alts. Put up disclaimers. Make password locked blogs, or dropboxes, or anonymous imgur dumps. Anonymous reuploads. Orphan fics. Make a playlist or linktree of unlisted videos. Cut off the watermarks. Delete all references to it on your main. Make a dedicated unlisted playlist. make a google drive. Make new portfolio sites. Delete any questions you get about it. Change pen names. Pretend it never existed.

Give a heads up.

Something.

But don’t. kill. the media.

The knowledge that our stuff is going to forever be tied to us is a cross we have to bear, but the responsibility that comes with putting it out there in the first place, can’t be ignored.

Anyway. I'm not trying to start conflict. This is not a bash on anyone, nor a call for witch hunts. Or anon hate, or blocks and unfollows or anything of that nature. I'm not wishing ramifications or hate of any kind on anyone who does wants to do any of this.

I'm also not guilt tripping— I am not saying that you should feel bad. I AM saying why it makes me feel bad. That’s not guilting, it’s a dialogue. One I personally feel is long overdue.

It's me yelling into the void: please consider the real people on the other side of the screen before you hit that button. Realize and know that whatever you're about to erase from history could be the most important thing in the world to someone.

Art is an experience. It's why we revisit it. If art and history simply lived in the matter and code of media, we would only need to look at it once. We wouldn’t put things in museums. We wouldn’t build libraries. We wouldn’t look up vine compilations.

If you're able, consider (and I do mean consider, this is not a call to action) not destroying that. And don’t shrug it off as some pretentious asshole venting on Tumblr. You only need to look in the notes and tags to see that it isn’t just me. it’s never just me, or you, or the pixels.

And even if you do shrug it off, then at least recognize that what you make matters. Whatever you think about it, if it’s out there, that's not your discretion anymore. If a tree falls in the woods and even one person is around to see it, it fucking mattered. Because it happened. Don’t mulch your tree rings if you don’t have to. Because if enough people do it, a whole forest is gone. Media is history, no matter whether you think it’s worth putting in a museum, or only has 30 notes.

Thousands of years ago, a child named onfim doodled on his homework. They’re crude, and everyone has the wrong amount of fingers, and they’re also priceless archaeological artifacts recognizable throughout the world.

the only thing separating Onfim’s doodles and your MS paint Pokémon doodles is time. The only thing separating your old MS paint Pokémon doodles from being a priceless artifacts, thousands of years in the future is time. Your creations are already priceless artifacts. No matter what you do, don't ever, ever deny that. It isn’t blowing up your own ass, it’s artistic and anthropological fact.

The mundane and the supposedly unworthy are often the first things lost to time, and that’s why they’re so precious. That’s why artists who were before their time are scorned first only to be celebrated later. Do you think they knew that was going to happen?? What if they nuked it? Many probably did! But now that’s happening exponentially and instantaneously everywhere, WITHOUT the artist having to destroy their only copy—which makes it way easier and more dismissable.

Sometimes, If you’re revolutionary enough, people will make an effort to preserve your work, but recognized and thoroughly recorded work is rare compared to unrecognized and thoroughly recorded work.

Sometimes something is beloved enough that it would be impossible for it not to go down in history, but even then it isnt a guarantee, and it’s rare. But if van Gogh burned all of his paintings in a fit of despair before his death, we would have no van Gogh. Because he wasn’t respected as an artist in his time, but that wasn’t what defined the worth of his art. The people after him did, because his art was still there for them.

If you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it. If you belittle your art, you belittle the very real relationships and emotions and revisitations people have with the media. You defy the inherent worth and weight of a creation. you created. That's effort. It's passion. No matter how flippant or unskilled or worthless you think it is, it matters. Because at the end of the day, you could have chosen to make nothing at all, and you didn't.

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Muting notifs