#and not at all representative of what I've been listening to lately

[protecthiminthewashingmachine]

thanks for tagging me @voiturebalai, @galacticfire and @twinkmarmelade ! ❤

I think pretty much everyone has already done this but uhhhh @golden-racket, @cavsthighs if you want to

[vitiateoriginator]

Been getting into the band Motionless in White recently. Currently fixating on this song (I am unwell)

[tsukii0002]

I like to think that Barbatos doesn't sleep, sometimes he does it for pleasure, but he doesn't really need it. So he spends his nights wandering around the nooks and crannies of his room, looking at the different doors or seeing how the flow of water or a staircase has changed direction. Consequently, Barbatos does not have a bed in his room.

However, after what happened with Belphie and Mc, Mc would stop by his room constantly, to thank him (again), deliver homemade cakes or drinks, or just to see how he was doing.

At first the demon could not understand the human, weren't they afraid of that place? Weren't they uncomfortable with the certainty of the time represented in his room? Weren't they terrified of being so close… to him?

Those questions never left him, but he grew accustomed to the human's presence, he liked listening to them talk, how attentive they were to him. Sometimes he let them wander freely through the places he had so often wandered at night. And after a while he began to look forward to Mc's visits.

First he waited for the visits, then he began to crave them, later one visit was too little and he began to drag it out until Mc had to spend the night at the palace because it was too late…. But it wasn't enough, he felt he had to monopolize their ephemeral time, he needed those moments to belong to him alone.

Barbatos: Mc, are you coming today?

Mc: Barbatos! Yes, I'll bring the candy I told you last time.

Barbatos: I'm glad… By the way I have incorporated a new element in my quarters.

Mc: ????

Barbatos: A bed, thanks to you I find it more pleasant to sleep, so I thought I'd need one.

Mc: That's great!!! Hahahaha *with a mocking tone* so I can sleep in your room now?

Barbatos: *chuckles* I hadn't thought of that.

That's how the time-controlling demon did something he never imagined, incorporating a bed, even though he didn't need it, for a single human, was something strange to say the least. Although, of course, that a human would enter his most intimate domain without any fear was the strangest thing of all. And there was no greater pleasure than curling up next to Mc and sleep.

.

.

I've been going through a lot of Barbatos stories in devilgram and in many of them Mc falls asleep in Barbatos' room, but then I look at her room and I can't help but laugh at the thought of where the bed would be, because in that space a bed doesn't even fit 😂😂😂, so I think it's funny to imagine the origin of that supposed bed in a room that looks like a mystical ruin.

Thanks for reading 🩷

.

.

[et7432]

Not Without Permission

(Klaus Mikaelson)

(Klaus Mikaelson x Reader)

Summary: Elena and Damon leave (Y/N) behind at the last untouched safehouse in Mystic Falls, the one place where the Originals can't just waltz in. It's a temporary peace, and they need her to stay put while they go after an ancient artifact that could change everything. Before they go, they make it crystal clear—no one gets inside, no matter what. The stakes are too high. But when a familiar, dangerous face shows up at the door—Klaus Mikaelson himself—(Y/N)’s calm is about to be tested. Charming, persuasive, and never without a few tricks up his sleeve, Klaus doesn’t take no for an answer. Will she keep the door locked, or will the deadly allure of the Original hybrid be enough to crack her resolve?

I pouted quietly, as I watched Damon and Elena leaving without me. It was my way of masking the yearning for adventure that I couldn't join in on.

"Listen carefully. Your house is the only place in town that the Originals cannot enter. No one can enter without an invitation, no exceptions - not even if someone is bleeding on your doorstep," Damon warns.

"I understand, Damon. Safe haven, magical barrier, invite-only."

Elena struggled with another duffel bag and hauled it to Damon's car trunk.

"It's true, (y/n). We can't risk it."

"Then let me come with you." I walked down the porch steps. "I've been researching those artifacts for weeks. I could be of assistance-"

"No." Elena slammed the trunk. "You need to stay here where it's safe. Plus, don't you have that history report about the 1920s due?"

"Seriously? You're using homework as an excuse while you're out hunting for ancient magical objects?"

"I'd rather do homework than hunt for ancient magical objects that could get you killed," Damon called out as he climbed into the driver's seat.

Elena gave me a quick hug. "We'll be back before you know it."

I watched them get inside the car, frustration boiling within me. The engine roared to life, and Damon rolled down his window.

"Remember - don't open the door for anyone!" His voice carried across the lawn.

"Of course, dad!" I replied sarcastically, putting all my teenage angst into those three words.

The car disappeared down the street, leaving me alone on my supposedly safe front lawn, feeling like a useless researcher stuck in some supernatural time-out.

The desk lamp cast a harsh glow across my laptop screen. The cursor blinked against the white document - mocking me with its steady rhythm. Only my name and the date stared back: "(y/n) Matthews, October 15th."

The cicadas droned outside my window, their endless chirping a symphony of late-night procrastination. I drummed my fingers against the desk, scrolling through my research notes for the thousandth time. Prohibition. Speakeasies. The Jazz Age. My brain refused to string two coherent sentences together about any of it.

I glanced at my phone. 9:47 PM. No messages from Elena or Damon.

"The 1920s represented a period of..." I typed, then deleted it. Too generic.

"In the wake of World War I..." Backspace, backspace, backspace.

The cicadas grew louder, their sound bleeding through my closed window. I pushed back from my desk and paced the room, my sock-covered feet silent against the hardwood floor. My history textbook lay open on the bed, its pages filled with black and white photos of flappers and Model T's.

"This would be so much easier if I could just interview an actual person who lived through it," I muttered, throwing myself back into my desk chair. The leather creaked under my weight. "But no - stay home, (y/n). Do your homework, (y/n). Do the responsible thing, (y/n). Don't get killed by thousand-year-old vampires, (y/n)."

The flashing line on my screen taunted me. I couldn't help imagining what adventures Elena and Damon were having - undoubtedly more exciting than watching an empty screen mock my progress.

I slumped forward, letting my brow make contact with the smooth desktop surface. Overhead, my study light buzzed softly, a constant electrical hum that matched my brain's static.

The peaceful stillness of the night shattered as three sharp knocks echoed through the house. My heart pounded in my chest.

More knocks followed, each one deliberate and measured. I knew it wasn't Damon's impatient pounding or someone in need of help.

I descended the stairs cautiously, avoiding the creaky spots I had memorized long ago. The atrium light cast eerie shadows across the hardwood floor.

"Who is it?" I called out, trying to mask the uncertainty in my voice.

"Good evening," came a refined voice from beyond the door. "Forgive the late hour, but I'm searching for Elena Gilbert. I was told she might be here."

As soon as I heard his words, the hair on my neck stood on end and a shiver ran down my spine. I immediately recognized that voice.

“Well, she’s not here,” I said firmly, glad my voice didn’t waver. "And even if she was, she wouldn't want to talk to a vampire like you."

The man's chuckle turned into a low growl. "You have no idea what you're talking about," he hissed through clenched teeth.

"I know who you are." I stepped back from the door, though the barrier spell made the distance unnecessary. "And I know you can't come in."

A low chuckle drifted through the wood. "Clever girl. Elena mentioned you. Haven't I seen you before a few times? - the studious one, always with her nose in a book. Tell me, what are you reading these days?"

"Nothing that would interest you." My fingers gripped the banister behind me, steadying my shaking legs.

"On the contrary, I find human persistence fascinating. The way you dig through dusty tomes and piece together fragments of the past..." His voice moved along the porch, closer to the window. "Speaking of the past, I hear you're writing about the 1920s. I could tell you stories that would make your paper absolutely..." A tap against the wooden door. "Riveting."

My throat went dry as I realized the truth - he had been alive during those times. He probably danced in speakeasies and roamed the gas-lit streets. But how did he know about my writing? Was he watching me earlier, lurking and listening to my conversation with Elena and Damon?

"I have no interest in your stories," I said, trying to keep him talking. I knew Elena would want to know that he was back in town, but my phone was upstairs on my desk, out of reach.

"No? Shame. I particularly enjoyed Chicago during Prohibition. The music, the fashion... the absolute lawlessness of it all. Your textbooks couldn't possibly capture the true spirit of the era."

Each word dripped with casual menace, reminding me of every story I'd heard about his victims. The countless lives he'd ended with that same conversational tone.

"Why are you really here?" I forced steel into my voice, channeling Elena's courage.

"Direct. I like that." Another tap, this time back at the door. "Very well. Since Elena's not answering her phone, perhaps you could pass along a message?"

My hand trembled over the doorknob. Every survival instinct screamed to run upstairs, but a deeper part of me knew - if Klaus wanted to deliver a message, he'd find a way. At least the barrier spell would protect me.

I twisted the knob and pulled the door open.

Klaus stood on my porch, hands clasped behind his back. The porch light caught the angles of his face, casting shadows that made him look more a statue than man. His lips curved into a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Brave little thing, aren't you?" He cocked his head. "Most humans who know what I am wouldn't dare."

I rested on the door frame. "The barrier spell works both ways. You can't get in, and I can't accidentally step out."

"Clever too." He took a single step closer, stopping just short of the invisible line. "Though I must say, opening doors to monsters - even with magical protection - shows questionable judgment."

"You said you had a message." I lifted my chin, fighting to keep my voice steady.

"Indeed." His eyes locked onto mine, and I fought the urge to look away. "But now I'm far more intrigued by you. Standing here, trembling yet defiant. Tell me, what makes someone choose to face their fears instead of hiding from them?"

"Maybe I'm tired of hiding." The words spilled out before I could stop them. "Maybe I'm tired of being the one left behind to stay safe while my friends risk their lives."

Klaus's smile widened, showing teeth. "Now that's honesty I can appreciate."

I swallowed hard, regretting my outburst. Every story I'd heard about Klaus started with someone letting their guard down, sharing too much.

"The message." I squared my shoulders. "What do you want me to tell Elena?"

"Straight to business?" He traced a finger along the door frame, stopping at the barrier's edge. "And here I thought we were having such a lovely chat about your academic pursuits."

"It's late, and I have homework to finish."

"Ah yes, your paper." His hand dropped to his side. "Though I suspect your mind's no longer on dance halls and bootleggers."

"Klaus." I forced myself to sound more direct. "The message?"

His expression shifted, playfulness vanishing like smoke. "Tell her I found what we discussed in Chicago. The item she's searching for? It's not what she thinks. And if she continues down this path..." He leaned forward, close enough that I could see flecks of gold in his eyes. "Well, let's just say some treasures are better left buried."

"That's cryptic, even for you."

"Consider it a courtesy warning. I do so hate to see wasted potential." He stepped back, adjusting his jacket cuffs. "Whether that potential belongs to Elena or yourself remains to be seen."

Goosebumps appeared on my skin from his words. "I'll tell her."

"My thanks for being such a reliable messenger bird." He gave a slight bow and turned his back to me walking away.

Klaus's silhouette started blending into the dimness of nightfall along the asphalt street, an impulsive need shot up my spine making my heart hammer against its cage; an acknowledgement of shared knowledge perhaps? Against all better judgement and advice whispering urgently for silence in my ear, I called out to him,

"Klaus!"

"Wait." As I called out his name, Klaus froze in place, his body still and tense as if carved from a block of cold, white marble. His face revealed a struggle, with furrowed brows and clenched jaw as he wrestled with conflicting emotions.

Finally, he took a deep breath and turned on his heel, his determined steps leading him back to my home.

The sound of his shoes crunching against the gravel path echoed through the quiet evening air as he strode purposefully towards me. Klaus was back on my porch as close to me as he could get this time without touching the invisible barrier.

"Yes?" His tone was casual, but his expression remained unreadable as he took in my call. Curiosity laced his low baritone voice. Despite the tension in his posture, he exuded a sense of grace and anticipation with a slight turn of his head and a raised eyebrow.

"I was wondering... if you could tell me about the 1920s?" I gesture helplessly. "But you'd have to stay on the porch, obviously."

His lips curved into an amused smile. "Curiosity wins over caution? How delightfully human."

"You can sit." I backed away from the door. "Let me just-"

I darted to the living room, dragging one of the heavy wooden chairs from our dining set. Its legs scraped across the floor as I pushed it through the doorway, over the threshold.

Klaus caught the chair with one hand, positioning it with casual grace. "Such hospitality."

"Can I get you something to drink?" My heart hammered against my ribs. "Not... I mean, obviously not blood, but..."

"Scotch, if you have it." He settled into the chair. "Your father keeps a decent collection, as I can tell."

I froze. "How did you-"

"The cabinet right at the end of the hallway," He looked straight ahead. "I make it my business to know these things."

I found myself walking to our alcohol cabinet, hands shaking as I reached for the crystal decanter. The amber liquid caught the lamplight as I poured a generous measure into a glass.

When I returned, Klaus looked almost relaxed and at ease—something I had never seen in him before. I felt ridiculous, but I couldn’t take any chances with the unpredictable original. I quickly put the glass down on the ground and grabbed an umbrella from near the front door, using it to push the glass past the barrier.

“Really, love? A bit overly cautious?” he remarked, accepting the scotch as he leaned down to pick up the glass.

“I don’t think it’s possible for someone to be too cautious around you, Klaus,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

I paused in disbelief as the reality sank in: an old vampire, let alone an original, was willing to help me with my school paper. "Hold on, I need to grab a few things," I mumbled under my breath before quickly climbing the stairs to retrieve my laptop and phone.

I also snatched a thick blanket, anticipating the cool air outside at this time of night.

Making my way back down the stairs, I bundled myself in the warm blanket and settled in the doorway, tucking my legs under for added coziness. With my laptop balanced on my lap, I turned to face him.

He sat across from me with a playful smile on his face, his words laced with flirtatiousness. "You are a most intriguing creature," he declared, his dark eyes sparkling mischievously.

My gaze traveled over his handsome features, admiring every detail - from the sharp angle of his jaw to the way his hair fell across his forehead.

Feeling a blush spread across my cheeks, I cleared my throat nervously. "Sh-should we get started?" I stammered.

"By all means," Klaus responded, raising his glass in a small toast before taking a sip of the scotch. "But where would you like to start? The Roaring Twenties were quite an eventful decade, after all."

I chewed at my bottom lip momentarily, scanning the information I had already collected on my screen. "Gangsters and speakeasies," I finally said. "Prohibition and the rise of organized crime."

His mouth quivered upwards slightly into a smile. "A fascinating period indeed." He leaned back in his chair, looking every inch the relaxed gentleman. Yet, there was an ominous stillness about him that contradicted his comfortable appearance.

He began to speak, describing the decadence and vibrancy of the 1920s with a vividness that only someone who lived through it could possess. His stories were filled with tales of moonshine and jazz, of raucous parties and hushed backroom deals.

As he spun his colorful narratives, I found myself increasingly drawn in by his storytelling, my homework temporarily forgotten. His voice wove a tapestry of the past so tangible that I felt as though I could almost touch it.

"There was this feeling in the air," he tried to explain with a far-off look in his eyes. "A desperation...a recklessness. It was as if everyone knew they were dancing on the edge of a cliff - but they were too caught up in their own enjoyment to care."

Then he shifted gears and tales of extravagance turned grimmer as he began narrating about the violent underbelly of the age - amoral gangsters with Tommy guns ruling cityscapes through fear and intimidation, corruption permeating every layer of society.

His violent accounts of the past made my blood run cold reminding me exactly who – or rather 'what' – Klaus really was - an ancient supernatural creature capable of unspeakable horrors, who had lived through centuries of human history, who had seen - no, done - the very worst humanity had to offer.

Yet, for all that he was and all that I knew him to be, in that moment, as he sat back in that old wooden chair recounting a bygone era with an almost nostalgic air about him – Klaus seemed startlingly human.

Hours passed and the moon climbed higher in the sky. The cold crept into my bones, stiffening my fingers against the keyboard. But I had too many questions and Klaus seemed more than willing to answer them.

A sense of camaraderie began to settle between us, one that made me forget for a few minutes about the inconceivable dangers associated with his kind. The night felt less threatening with Klaus’ presence - his tales from the past bridging the divide as we sat together under the chilling autumn wind sharing stories – his so supernaturally old and mine so humanly young.

As the night began to fade, a tinge of sadness crept into my heart, knowing that this evening was coming to an end. The weight of reality pressed down on me as I faced Klaus. His striking eyes, glowing like liquid gold in the dim light, were fixated on me once again. His eyes held a vast depth of knowledge, and for a moment, I was entranced by their mysteries.

"Is there anything else you'd like to know?" he asked, finishing the last sip of his scotch.

My eyes still locked onto his and I shook my head slowly, a soft smile playing on my lips. More than anything, I wanted to indulge in this moment just a bit longer.

"No," I replied, fingers absentmindedly tracing the edges of my laptop. "That...that's enough for now."

He chuckled softly, draining the last remnants of the amber liquid from his glass and placing it softly on the porch floor. Rising up from the chair, he stretched subtly, the muscles rippling under his attire creating a muscular silhouette against the glow of the approaching dawn.

"Very well then," he said, stepping towards me. He extended his hand to help me up from the cold wooden floor. As I reached out to accept it, a spark seemed to dart between us, potent and electrifying. I recoiled my hand before grabbing his realizing that he could pull me out from the protective barrier. I saw him frown for a moment but he recovered quickly as if it didn’t bother him.

“I should leave now, little creature,” he says almost endearingly.

"Wait." I scrambled to get him to stay in some way a little longer. "What about the message for Elena?"

"Ah yes." He paused at the edge of the porch steps. "Don’t worry your pretty mind about Elena’s business.”

"You're not going to explain what you meant about the item she's searching for?"

"Some discoveries are best made firsthand." He turned back, shadows playing across his features. "Besides, I've given you plenty to work with - both for your paper and for Elena."

My fingers clutched the laptop tighter. "Why help me at all?"

"Perhaps I enjoy nurturing young minds." His voice carried back through the darkness. "Or perhaps I simply appreciate anyone willing to look beyond the surface of history's official narrative."

My lips parted, ready to speak, but before I could even form a word, Klaus had vanished into thin air without uttering a simple 'goodbye'. The absurdity of the situation made me laugh, despite everything that had just transpired. I chuckled softly under my breath as I stood alone staring out at the vacant street from my front door. 

I remained motionless for a while, hearing the cicadas pick up their song again, questioning whether the strange meeting had been real.

His empty scotch glass remained on the porch, catching moonlight like a diamond in the rough. I stared at it, mind racing through every detail of our conversation. Klaus's words about speakeasies, the hidden rooms, the secrets, crimes - they painted a vivid picture of the 1920s . But something nagged at me.

I pulled my phone out and opened my messages to Elena.

"Klaus was here. Said he found 'the item' you were looking for claims it's not what you think. Warning you about buried treasures?" My thumb hit over the send button.

The response came seconds later: "WHAT? Are you okay? Stay inside!"

"I'm fine. He couldn't cross the threshold." I glanced at the empty chair. "Elena, what's this item he mentioned?"

"Don't worry about that. We're turning around and heading back home now."

"It's late, I'm safe. He's gone." I looked at my laptop proud of the notes I'd taken. I set it aside on a table by the front door.

Elena's response buzzed through. "Be safe. We'll talk in a little bit. Lock everything."

"I will. Don't worry so much." I picked up the blanket ready to close the door. 

But the empty scotch glass still sat on the porch I couldn't resist the urge to clean up.

"I really should bring that inside," I thought to myself, stepping over the threshold to grab it.

My fingers had barely closed around the glass when the air shifted. A rush of movement slammed me back against the house wall, knocking the breath from my lungs. Klaus's hands pressed on either side of my head, caging me in.

"Careful, love." His breath ghosted across my cheek. "Crossing thresholds can be dangerous business."

My heart thundered against my ribs. "You were waiting."

"Watching." His eyes traced my face with an intensity that made my skin prickle. "To see if temptation would overpower your better judgment once more."

"I just wanted the glass-" My voice sounded weak even to my own ears.

"Fascinating." His thumb traced along my jawline, the touch feather-light yet electric. "Your heart's racing, but you're not trying to run."

I pressed my palms flat against the wall behind me, desperate for something solid to ground me. "Maybe I know it wouldn't make a difference."

"Oh, it would make all the difference." Klaus's other hand slid down to rest at the curve of my neck, his fingers cool against my pulse point. "The chase always adds such... excitement."

"Is that what this is to you? A game?"

"Life's a game, love. The trick is knowing which pieces to move." His thumb brushed across my bottom lip, and my breath caught. "And when to take risks."

The wind rustled through the trees, carrying the sharp scent of autumn leaves. Klaus's body blocked most of the porch light now, casting us both in shadow.

He spoke softly, his accent flowing over the words like smooth silk.

"What fascinates you more - the monster or the man?"

"I-" The word stuck in my throat as his fingers traced patterns on my skin. "Both. Neither. I don't know."

"Now that's honesty." He shifted closer, until barely a breath separated us. "Most humans choose one or the other. They either crave the darkness or desperately seek the light." His nose skimmed along my cheek. "But you... you see both, don't you? The artist and the killer. The teacher and the terror."

One of my hands found their way to his chest, but I couldn't tell if I meant to push him away or pull him closer. The fabric of his jacket was soft under my fingertips, hiding the immortal strength beneath.

My head was spinning, my thoughts scattered as Klaus's proximity overwhelmed me. I wanted to push him away, to run inside and lock the door behind me. But at the same time, I couldn't deny that a part of me was drawn to him, intrigued by his words and his touch.

"You shouldn't be here," I managed to say, my voice trembling.

Klaus's lips curved into a predatory smile. "But I am."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "Why? Why do you keep coming back?"

He leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against my ear. "Because you intrigue me."

I shivered at the feeling of his warm breath on my skin. "What do you want from me?"

"What do I want?" He pulled back slightly, studying my face with those piercing blue eyes. "I want to show you what real passion is, love. To open your eyes to a world beyond your mundane existence."

I couldn't deny the spark of curiosity that flickered within me at his words. But I refused to give in so easily.

"I know what passion is," I said stubbornly.

"Do you? Has anyone ever made your heart race like this?" Klaus's hand trailed down my neck and over my chest before resting on my waist.

I swallowed hard as he leaned in again, our faces so close that our noses were almost touching.

"I can make you feel things you've never felt before," he whispered against my lips.

His words sent a shiver down my spine, but I couldn't let myself succumb to him just yet.

"Who says I want that?" I challenged, trying not to let his nearness cloud my judgment.

"You do." His voice was low and confident. "You crave excitement and danger just as much as you fear it."

I wanted to deny it, but deep down I knew he was right. There was a part of me that longed for something more, something beyond the endless cycle of work, eat, and sleep.

"I'm not like you," I insisted, searching his eyes for some grain of understanding. Yet all I saw were galaxies of blue teasing me with unparalleled enigma.

His laughter echoed through the night, as soft and alluring as forbidden velvet. "Oh darling, nobody said you had to be." The fingers at my waist tightened slightly, pulling me inescapably closer. "All you need to be is... open."

"Open to what?" I whispered, my voice quivering, my heart hammered wildly against my chest.

His lips crashed into mine, fierce and demanding, with a passion that spoke of centuries of longing. The glass slipped from my trembling fingers, shattering on the wooden planks beneath us. My hands found his jacket lapels, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, my fingers curling into the expensive fabric. His fingers tangled in my hair, tilting my head back as his mouth moved against mine with desperate intensity, every touch igniting fire beneath my skin.

My heart thundered against my ribs, matching the fierce rhythm of his immortal strength pressing against me. I could feel centuries of loneliness and desire in the way he held me, his touch alternating between gentle reverence and possessive need. The wooden porch railing pressed into my back, grounding me in this moment that felt suspended between reality and dream.

His hand slid down my spine, leaving trails of fire in its wake, each touch a dangerous promise that made me shiver. I arched into him, gasping as his teeth grazed my lower lip, the gesture both tender and predatory. The rough wood siding pressed against my back, splinters catching at my sweater, a stark reminder of reality that did nothing to break the spell of his presence.

"Such sweet surrender," Klaus breathed against my mouth, his accent thicker with desire. His stubble scraped my skin as he traced kisses along my jaw, each one deliberate and claiming. "And here I thought you were the cautious one, love."

My fingers clutched his shoulders, seeking anchor in a storm of sensation, feeling the immortal strength beneath his expensive jacket. "I am cautious."

"Evidently not." His laugh vibrated against my throat, dark and rich like aged whiskey. "Though I must admit, your recklessness is... intoxicating."

The word snapped something in my brain, cutting through the haze of desire like a knife. Intoxicating. Dangerous. Deadly. Every warning Elena had ever given me about Klaus crashed back like a tidal wave - stories of his cruelty, his manipulation, the trail of broken bodies he'd left across centuries.

"Wait." I pressed my palms against his chest, feeling his heart beat slow and steady beneath my hands. "Stop."

To my surprise, he did. Klaus pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, his eyes dark with hunger that wasn't entirely vampiric, predatory desire written in every line of his immortal face. "Having second thoughts?"

"I'm having all the thoughts." My voice shook, betraying the chaos in my mind. "Every single one I should have had before I stepped outside this threshold. Every warning bell that should have rung hours ago."

"And yet here you are." His thumb traced circles on my hip, each movement sending shivers down my spine. "Making choices that would terrify your friends. Defying every careful warning they've whispered behind closed doors."

"They'd be right to be terrified." I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of my own recklessness. "You're..."

"A monster?" His smile held no warmth, just centuries of dark promises. "We've established that love. Multiple times tonight. Or have you forgotten our earlier conversations?"

"No, you're..." I struggled to form coherent thoughts with him still pressed against me, his presence overwhelming every sense. The scent of aged whiskey and leather clouded my mind, making it impossible to think straight.

"You're Klaus. You don't do this - whatever this is. You have schemes and plans and..." I drew in a shaky breath, acutely aware of how his touch seemed to burn through the thin fabric of my shirt. "You don't get distracted like this. You're always ten steps ahead of everyone else."

"Perhaps this is part of a scheme." His fingers skimmed up my side, leaving trails of fire in their wake. The predatory gleam in his eyes made my heart stutter. "Or perhaps you've simply caught my interest. A thousand years on this earth, and still you manage to surprise me."

"That might be worse." My voice came out barely above a whisper, heavy with the weight of what those words could mean. The thought of being truly interesting to Klaus Mikaelson was more terrifying than any calculated plot.

His laugh was genuine this time. "Smart girl." He stepped back, leaving me cold in the autumn air. "Though not quite smart enough to stay inside, it seems."

I wrapped my arms around myself, looking down at the shattered glass as I shifted uncomfortably on the porch. "You orchestrated this whole thing." The realization settled like lead in my stomach.

"The history lesson? Yes. The kiss?" His eyes glinted dangerously in the porch light pleased. "That was all you, love. Crossing thresholds, chasing after crystal glasses... Such impulsive decisions."

"You could have just taken the glass with you when you left." Even to my own ears, the argument sounded weak, defensive.

"And miss this delightful demonstration of poor judgment?" Klaus brushed a strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering a moment too long against my cheek. "Where would be the fun in that?"

My phone buzzed insistently in my pocket - probably Elena again, wondering why I wasn't responding. Klaus's eyes flickered down to the sound, a calculating expression crossing his features.

"You should answer that. Your friends are quite protective." He took another step back. "Though I doubt they'd approve of tonight's... extracurricular activities."

"Don't." Heat flooded my cheeks as my hand instinctively touched my still-tingling lips. "This was a mistake."

"Was it?" He crouched down, picking up a large shard of broken crystal, his movements deliberately slow and graceful. "Seems more like an education to me. History, chemistry..." The glass caught moonlight as he turned it between his fingers, creating dancing patterns on the porch walls. "A practical lesson in crossing lines."

My phone buzzed again, the vibration seeming to echo in the tense silence between us. Klaus straightened back up to his full height.

"Your friends are getting impatient." Klaus stepped closer, his boots crunching over broken glass. "Though I must say, their timing leaves much to be desired."

I backed up against the door, heart pounding. "I should go inside."

"Should you?" His fingers traced the invisible barrier at the threshold. "We both know that's not what you want."

"What I want isn't always what's best for me."

"Now that's where you're wrong, love." Klaus's eyes locked with mine, intense and magnetic. His gaze held centuries of dark promises, sending shivers down my spine. "Sometimes the most dangerous choices yield the sweetest rewards. Why deny yourself?"

"Because I actually want to stay alive?" My wavering voice revealed my hesitation.

"No." His smile turned predatory, revealing just a hint of fang. "You're curious. Drawn to the darkness, even as you pretend to fear it." He gestured at the door behind me, his rings catching the porch light. "A couple of words, (y/n). That's all it would take. Invite me in."

Heat flooded my cheeks, and I gripped the door knob. "So you can what? Add me to your list of conquests?"

"So we can explore this... chemistry between us." His accent wrapped around the words like silk, each syllable a caress. "Don't pretend you haven't felt it building all evening. The way your heart races when I'm near, how your breath catches at my touch." His words hit too close to home, making my pulse stutter traitorously.

"Klaus..." The name came out as barely more than a whisper.

"Say yes." His hand hovered near my face, not quite touching, but I could feel the heat radiating from his skin. "Give in to what we both want."

My phone buzzed a third time, insistent and grounding. The familiar vibration cut through the spell he was weaving around me. I closed my eyes, fighting against the pull of his presence. "I can't."

"Can't?" His voice carried an edge of danger. "Or won't?"

"Both." I gripped the door frame harder, using the rough wood to anchor myself. "My friends trust me. I won't betray that."

"Loyalty." Klaus spat the word like poison. "Such a human weakness." His fingers traced the invisible barrier again, testing its limits. "And yet, it's precisely that quality which makes you..." He paused, searching for the right word. "Fascinating."

"I'm not fascinating." The words came out sharper than intended. "I'm just trying to survive in a world that keeps getting more complicated by the day."

"You underestimate yourself." His hand dropped to his side. "Most humans would have slammed the door in my face hours ago. But you..." His eyes raked over me, intense and calculating. "You stayed. Listened. Learned."

"Maybe I just needed help with my history paper."

"We both know that's not true." Klaus stepped back, his boots crunching over broken glass. "You're drawn to power, to knowledge. To danger." He smiled, all predator. "To me."

My phone buzzed again, the sound almost angry now. Klaus's eyes flickered to my pocket.

"Answer it." He gestured dismissively. "Before they send a search party."

"They might anyway." I pulled the phone out with trembling fingers. "Elena's not exactly the trusting type these days."

"Can you blame her?" Klaus's eyes glinted with dark amusement. "After everything that's happened in this town, trust becomes quite the precious commodity."

The screen lit up my face as I checked the messages. Four texts from Elena, each more worried than the last.

"Tell me something." I looked up from the phone. "Was any of this real? The history lessons, the stories?"

"Every word." Klaus picked up another shard of glass, turning it in the moonlight. "Though I admit, my motivations weren't entirely... academic."

"You could have just asked me out like a normal person."

His laugh echoed across the porch. "Normal? Love, I haven't been normal for a thousand years." He kicked the glass shards. "Besides, where's the intrigue in that?"

My phone buzzed again. Elena's name flashed across the screen, this time with a call.

"You should answer that." Klaus nodded toward the phone. "Your friend's persistence is admirable, if somewhat inconvenient."

I swiped to accept the call, keeping my eyes on Klaus. "Elena?"

"(y/n)! Thank god. Are you okay? Why weren't you answering?"

Klaus's smirk widened at Elena's panicked tone. He mouthed 'tell her' with a challenging raise of his eyebrow.

"I'm fine." I turned away from his taunting expression. "Just got caught up in my history paper. Lost track of time."

"You're sure everything's alright?"

"Perfectly fine." The lie tasted bitter on my still-tingling lips. "I'll see you tomorrow at school."

Klaus's low chuckle carried across the porch as I ended the call. "Such a convincing liar. I'm almost impressed."

"Don't." I slipped the phone back into my pocket. "This doesn't change anything."

"No?" He crossed the distance between us in two fluid steps. "Then why lie to your dear friend Elena? Why not tell her I'm still here?"

My back pressed against the door frame as he leaned in, his breath ghosting across my cheek. The scent of whiskey and leather overwhelmed my senses.

"Because she'd try to save me." The words came out before I could stop them.

"And you don't want to be saved." His fingers traced the curve of my jaw. "Say it, love. Invite me in."His words hung in the air between us, heavy with promise and danger.

His touch left fire in its wake, each caress stoking the flames higher. My skin felt too tight, too sensitive, every brush of his fingers sending sparks through my nervous system. The rough wood of the house wall dug into my back, the only anchor keeping me from drowning in sensation.

"Please..." The word escaped before I could stop it, breathy and desperate.

"Please what?" His tone is dangerous and seductive. His thumb traced my bottom lip, pressing lightly. "Be specific, love."

Each feather light touch from his hand felt like a jolt of electricity, sending shivers down my spine and causing my muscles to tense in anticipation.

Each circle he traced made me arch closer, seeking more contact.

"I..." The words tangled in my throat as his lips found that spot behind my ear that made my knees weak. "God, Klaus..."

"Not quite the invitation I'm looking for." His teeth grazed my skin, drawing a gasp from my lips. "Try again."

The rational part of my brain screamed warnings, but it was drowning in a sea of want. His hands, his mouth, his voice - everything about him demanded surrender. And I wanted to give in, wanted it with an intensity that frightened me.

"Come..." My voice shook as his fingers tangled in my hair.

He chuckled deeply, his hot breath rolling down my neck. "Come what, love?" His voice was a soft purr, dangerously coercive. He was playing with me and we both knew it.

"Come...in." I finally managed, the words barely making their way past the lump in my throat. His lips drew into a triumphant smirk as he pulled back, meeting my gaze with an intense hunger in his eyes.

"That wasn't so hard, now was it?" He asked, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Before I could gather my thoughts, he swept me into his arms, effortlessly crossing the threshold of my front door. A thrilling rush surged through me, igniting my senses and replacing any trace of fear with a tantalizing excitement that I couldn't resist

“You are mine now,” he growled, slamming the door with a loud thud that reverberated through the house. The heavy weight of finality hung in the air, a declaration that left no room for argument or negotiation. Everything had changed with those words, and the once familiar surroundings now felt foreign and dangerous.

As his words settled in, I couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding wash over me. This was my new reality, and there was no going back to how things used to be.

[bobohu4eva]

Illicit Affairs

Characters: Idol!Baekhyun x trainee/idol!Reader

Genre: smut, angst

Warnings: explicit unprotected sex, virgin sex, significant age gap, problematic relationship dynamics, this is purely a work of fiction and in no way representative of a healthy relationship

WC: 9.7k (trust me it needed to be that long)

A/N: Heavily inspired by the song, although the forbidden nature of the relationship is interpreted more as dealing with the age difference and dynamic, rather than being a result of infidelity. I definitely recommend giving it a listen before reading further.

Masterlist

He was one of the last people you met after becoming a trainee, but he was the one you'd been thinking about meeting the most. 

Baekhyun was the reason you decided to become a singer. He was the person that made you fall in love with music and singing ten years ago, so when you finally bumped into him in person, it left you breathless and flustered. 

He was even more gorgeous than you could've expected, and you'd already met many other idols by then. You'd been waiting for your vocal lesson one evening, and he was the person who went right before you. When his lesson ended, he walked out of the soundproof room, and he was standing right in front of you. 

The image of him you'd always had in your mind, based on the countless pictures and videos you'd seen of him throughout the years, couldn't compare at all. With him directly before you, in person, he looked so much better than you ever could've imagined. He was just wearing a black tshirt and sweats, no makeup, hair unstyled and even a bit messy, but you still had to fight off the urge to stare. He was quite a bit taller than you, and you could see the muscle definition in his chest and arms under the plain black shirt. Everything about him was just so perfectly shaped, to you. From his familiar but still somehow surprisingly handsome face, to his broad shoulders, down to his waist and hips. If you found him attractive before meeting him in person, you were down badly now. 

It was so natural and sweet how he greeted you, asking if you were new, and wishing you the best for your trainee journey. Of course you thanked him, but he could easily see how much the sudden meeting had shaken you up, so he kept it brief. 

From then on, you saw him there every week before your lesson, and found yourself looking forward to it every time. The greetings became short conversations, and eventually you even told him how he'd been the one to inspire you back in the day to also be a singer and eventually audition. You would never forget how those words made his face light up. 

“Really? Back then I had no idea what I was doing, I'm still surprised by how much people seemed to like me. It means a lot to hear that.” 

He had one of those special kinds of smiles that you only see a few times in your life. It made you feel seen, appreciated, like to him, you were the only other person that mattered. He had that kind of energy about him. 

All you could think to do was blush and smile back. Being around him was almost like some sort of high to you, the way your heart pounded and you got butterflies in your stomach.   

Finally your voice teacher popped his head out the door, clearing his throat. “Sorry, I've got a bit of a cold. We'll keep it short today.” 

Without missing a beat, Baekhyun spoke up. “If you need to take the night off I can take over her lesson.” He turned towards you, “Would you be okay with that?” 

Your eyes grew wide and your mouth opened slightly, but no words came out, so you just nodded. 

“You sure?” The teacher said, “That would be great, thank you.” 

“Of course, it's already pretty late, you should get some rest.” 

So, you were left with Baekhyun teaching your lesson for the evening. You were still dumbfounded as he led you back into the small soundproof room, and asked what you had learned in last week's lesson. 

You answered him, though it was barely above a whisper. Having him teaching you all of the sudden was not something you were mentally prepared for. 

However he still understood, and started leading you through some warm ups.

To say that you were blushing, embarrassed, mortified, or anything similar still felt like an understatement. Warm ups just aren't cute.They felt silly and sounded dumb and the idea of doing them in front of Baekhyun of all people made you want to curl up into a tiny ball and become one with the carpet on the floor. 

Of course Baekhyun quickly caught on to that. “How about we do them together? I'll start, and you just match me, ok?”  

His voice concealed your own enough to ease your mind a bit, but soon he was asking you to sing on your own, without his voice to hide behind. 

You could barely get out a sound, let alone properly sing a simple scale. It was frustrating beyond belief, you knew you were a good singer, and you were incredibly lucky to have him offer to teach you, but your shyness still got the best of you. Trying to do anything while his eyes were on you felt impossible. 

Baekhyun was starting to regret offering to do the lesson, not because he didn't want to, but because he felt he was making you uncomfortable. He loved the idea of mentoring a trainee, helping them develop their skills and getting to see them debut with his encouragement, it had even been a dream of his. Of course this was only one vocal lesson, but it was something he'd been thinking about for a while, and this seemed like a great opportunity, at least at first. But he knew he couldn't force it, and he didn't want to hold you back either.

“I'm sorry, I didn't really think this through. Should we call it a night?” He asked, and you felt your heart sink. The disappointment evident on your face must've told him that you weren't quite ready to give up yet, so he made you an offer. 

“What if I face the wall, and you close your eyes, just imagine I'm not here and you're practicing by yourself. Just so I can hear you and get a better idea for what we should work on.”

You took a deep breath. He was just another person, and he was here because he wanted to help you. 

When you nodded, he smiled, ready to give it your best shot before he turned away, facing the corner of the room. 

It actually came out sounding okay that time, so you repeated it again for good measure. 

When you opened your eyes Baekhyun was looking your way again, with a proud smile on his face.

He had you repeat it a few more times, reassuring you every time that you were doing well, and for you, just seeing him smiling and praising you was enough to keep you going. 

With you finally past your mental block, he was able to get an idea of where you were at, and both of you were surprised to see how quickly two hours went by. He still kept things simple, not wanting to overwhelm you or make you shy again, but it was going amazingly well and he found himself almost as excited about it as you, if not even more. 

With the lesson finally over, he offered to drive you back to your dorm on his way home, and you happily accepted. When he led you to his car, a silver Porsche, you let out a small laugh in disbelief. Baekhyun just smiled, making a little extra show out of opening the door for you, before circling around to get in himself. You stayed quiet, just listening to him softly sing along to the music he'd put on until it was time for him to drop you off. Part of you was still in disbelief, that you'd really spent the last few hours with him, and now, you were next to him in his car as he drove you home. When he pulled up to your dorm, he wished you a good night, and didn't move until he saw you enter the building safely. As you laid in bed that night you replayed it all in your mind, smiling like a fool at how heart fluttering it all was. For the first time, you couldn’t fall asleep because your reality was somehow even better than what you could dream up. 

One week later, when you arrived for your lesson again, you were surprised when Baekhyun and your original teacher said they wanted to discuss something with you. 

“How would you feel about having your vocal lessons with me from now on?” Baekhyun asked. 

They saw the surprise on your face, your first teacher nodding at what Baekhyun had said. 

“Wow, I mean, are you sure? It's an honor, of course, but, why..?” 

“Teaching is something I've been thinking a lot about lately and I really enjoyed our lesson last week. It's up to you, of course, but if you'd be interested then I'd love to be your new voice teacher.” 

You laughed, mostly in disbelief. It felt too good to be true. Baekhyun was someone you'd looked up to for so long, and now he was happily offering to personally help you with your singing. 

“You really mean that?” 

He was still smiling in that almost frustratingly captivating way, nodding at your question. “So should we get started?” 

Unlike the week prior you had a bit more confidence this time around, and both you and him thoroughly enjoyed the lesson. Every week that followed your voice grew even bolder, as you got more used to being around him. You got less nervous to see him, moreso happy and excited to get to sing with him, and having him as your teacher made you all the more dedicated to doing your absolute best. 

Soon you started to ask him about other things, too. First it was dancing, asking his advice for how to memorize choreographies more easily. Then, how to talk to the media, or how to pose for photo shoots. Within a few months Baekhyun was much more than just the voice teacher you saw once a week. He helped you with basically every aspect of becoming a successful idol, he became a mentor to you. 

You could never fully get used to it, to having him in your life in such a close way. Your heart would still flutter when he showed you that amazing smile of his, and you still refused to slack off on your vocals or dancing, because you wanted to impress him, but mostly because you’d get to see that very smile. He was every bit as lovely and charming as you’d always imagined he would be, and you fell hard for him, he made it impossible for you not to. With how sweet he was to you, it sometimes seemed like he might actually like you, as more than a student, but those were thoughts you pushed away, knowing realistically that a relationship with him was nothing more than a fantasy. 

It was only six months into being a trainee that you were told you would debut, and you knew that you had him to thank for it. Another few months later the day came, and it was time for you to perform with your group for the first time. 

As soon as you stepped off stage, out of the view of the cameras, you lost it. The tears weren't because you felt sad or disappointed, simply overwhelmed. You knew you'd done well, really well in fact. Your career had officially begun, and the weight of it came down on you all at once, leaving you with little to do but sit in your dressing room in disbelief.

There was a soft knock on the door, and next thing you knew Baekhyun’s head was peeking in, and you weren't sure you'd ever seen him smile that big before. 

Without as much as a second of hesitation, you ran to the door, pulling him inside. As the door shut behind him, his arms wrapped around you.

His praises almost went unheard, still too overwhelmed by everything to fully listen to what he was saying, but you could tell he was happy, that he thought you'd done really well. 

It wasn't long until his arms broke away, hands still on your shoulders as he looked at you, smiling that amazing smile of his. With him looking at you like that, telling you how well you'd done, how proud he was, how happy he was to be your mentor, your emotions ran wild. It was everything, the adrenaline, relief, euphoria, and just him. 

His eyes were still on your teary ones, admiring you, a little overwhelmed himself. Seeing you finally debut after the months he'd spent with you, singing together, dancing, doing everything he could to make sure you were ready when the day came, got him a little teary eyed, too. You'd done so well, and he felt so lucky to have gotten to be there by your side for all of it. 

“I'm so proud of you.” He said, his hands moving down from your shoulders, along your arms. His eyes held so much warmth behind them, the sweet words along with his hands on you, and the way he never took his eyes away from you, had you reeling, stomach doing flips. For a second you swore his face was getting closer to yours, and his eyes flickered down to your lips. The tension seemed so thick, it became unbearable. 

You threw your arms around him, and you kissed him.

At first he took a step back, stumbling a bit, too surprised to fully react. But before you had the chance to pull away, his hand was holding your face against his own, returning the same kind of passion you showed him.

Baekhyun, your endlessly kind, lovely, talented, handsome, funny, charming mentor, was kissing you back. With his free arm, he circled your waist and pulled you closer, flush with his chest. The hand on your face held you close so softly, asking, not demanding, for more contact, for this to not end so quickly. He gave you every chance to pull away, to stop him, but you didn't, you only melted into his affection even more. 

The knock on the door pulled you both rudely back to reality. Your lips parted, and as you stared at one another, what you'd just done started to sink in. Baekhyuns’ face fell in a way you’d never seen before, and then he was gone. He walked through the door with all the horror disgust he felt towards himself clearly evident and the knot in his stomach nearly made him sick. 

He knew he made a huge mistake. He fucked up so incredibly badly. 

You stood there stunned, a million things running through your head, and collapsed under the weight of it all. 

The stylist was confused to say the least after first witnessing Baekhyun’s swift exit and next finding you, sitting on the floor crying. Thankfully she excused herself and let you be.

Baekhyun kissed you, and then just walked out, leaving you alone and confused. The guilt nearly ate him alive. Returning your kiss crossed so many lines and he should've known better, and he did, but you caught him so off guard, in such an emotionally charged moment, it just happened. The sudden euphoria of realizing that you were kissing him overpowered any rational thought. He knew he must be insane. 

And of all days, it was the day of your debut.

He had to make this right. 

He returned to your waiting room but it was already empty. He kept walking around the building trying to find you, even running into your bandmates, but you were nowhere to be found. 

Then he tried calling you, but he was sent to voicemail after the first ring. You declined his call. Finally he texted you, although he really didn't want to have this conversation over text. He knew he needed to do a better job at apologizing than just sending a few texts 

“Can we please talk about this? I'm so sorry I just walked out, I wasn't thinking, I need to talk to you.” 

You didn't reply. 

The next day he called again, and still you didn't pick up. 

The truth was, you were too embarrassed. Seeing him again, after he'd rejected you like that, was just too mortifying to consider. You felt so stupid. Of course kissing him was an outrageously dumb thing to do. He was your mentor, of course anything romantic was off the table. But you had a crush, and the adrenaline, combined with how sweet he was to you, made you lose any sense of reason. 

Stupid little girl, kissing the man she never even had a chance with, because her emotions got the best of her. 

But then why did he kiss you back? 

That was what drove you insane. Of course you had a crush on him, it was painfully obvious from the first day you'd met him, but he'd always stayed professional, never giving you any reason to think that it was anything more than how a fan feels toward their idol, and that it ever would be. Unfortunately for you, your feelings towards him only got stronger over time. 

Baekhyun had convinced himself that it was a good thing you liked him, that with him as your mentor, you'd work that much harder. He thought it was cute, the same way he thought of other fans' attitudes towards him, during fansigns and the like. He hadn't considered that maybe he'd gotten a little too close with you, that those lines started to feel blurred. In reality, you weren't just another fan, you were far from it. You were a real friend, you knew him. 

It was easy for him to understand why you didn't want to see or talk to him after what happened. He knew he messed up, both when he kissed you back, and when he left the room. He couldn't even imagine what must've been going through your head. He hoped you weren't blaming yourself, sure you're an adult, but at ten whole years older than you, he knew he was the one responsible for making sure things stayed appropriate between you two, and he'd failed. 

To his relief, you still did amazing for the rest of the debut promotions. He watched every performance, wishing he could've been there to support you. 

Because of how busy you were you'd agreed a while ago to skip lessons for the first two weeks after debut, and as the days dragged on, Baekhyun was starting to worry that he wouldn't get to see you again for a lot longer than he'd like. He still knew he needed to apologize to you, and the longer you avoided him the guiltier he felt. 

When promotions ended and he still hadn't heard from you, he reached out to your manager, asking when you'd have time for a lesson again. 

She assured him that you'd be there next week at the same time and place as usual, and he breathed a sigh of relief. The days before the lesson dragged on for what felt like ages to him, but at least there was an end in sight. 

When the time finally came, you were mortified, almost as badly as the first day you'd met him, or during your first lesson together, maybe even worse. He greeted you just as warmly as he always did, emphasizing how well you'd done during all the performances, and how he wished he could've been there for you. He did everything he could to try and relieve some of the tension and awkwardness, but you weren't there yet. 

You were bright red, hating the unpleasant heat sweeping over you, burning your cheeks and making you uncomfortably sweaty. You couldn't talk to him, or even make eye contact, you were still too ashamed. 

“Y/n?” You saw in your peripheral how he looked at you, and your eyes started to water. “I need to apologize for what happened after the showcase, I'm so sorry, I never should've put you in that situation, or kissed you back, or just left like I did. I was being reckless and stupid, the fault is all mine, and I understand if not, but I really hope you can forgive me.” 

His heart sank when you started to cry, and although he'd told himself a million times that he wouldn't, that any physical contact with you was inappropriate, he still ended up holding you, giving you a shoulder to cry on. 

“I'm such a fucking idiot.” You eventually let out between sobs, and he detached himself from you, finally meeting your eyes. 

“Please don't say that, this is all on me. I'm the one who fucked up, not you.” 

“But I'm the one- I-”

“Because I was being inappropriate. Like I said, I shouldn't have put you in that situation, that was my mistake.”

“I'm just so embarrassed.” It came out barely above a whisper. 

“Nobody saw us, and I could never judge you for that. I know you just got caught up in the moment.” 

You did your best to smile and nod, but the tears just kept coming. His words were sweet but did little to mend the pain and shame you still felt. 

He wanted to reach out and wipe away your tears, to hold you, to comfort you as best he could, but he knew it would only worsen things. Once again, however, when you leaned into him for comfort, he let you do as you pleased, cursing himself for letting his very necessary boundaries slip away so easily. 

This was bad, he knew it was. He didn't have the strength to push you away though he really should've. If this was going to continue, he had to do better, but he was coming to terms with the fact that he just wasn't able to. 

He stayed holding you until the tears eventually slowed down, and came to a stop. Now that your face wasn't buried in his chest anymore, he shot you a soft smile. “Do you want to get to singing?” 

Finally, you let out a small laugh. “Do we have to? Can we just talk? I missed you.” 

He sighed, but nodded. He'd missed you too, but saying so didn't feel like a good idea. 

He kept the conversation light, trying to make you laugh, anything to brighten your mood, if only for a little while. When the end of the lesson came, he knew he was going to have to be the bearer of bad news. 

“Next week I promise we can actually sing again.” You told him as he led you to his car to bring you home. 

He took a few deep breaths, and you were on your way to your dorm when he finally replied. 

“I don't think it's a good idea for me to be mentoring you, or giving your lessons anymore.” 

“What?” 

He stopped at a red light, and the look of hurt and disappointment he saw when he looked over at you made his throat feel tight. 

“I'll talk to your original voice teacher, to see when he can fit you into his schedule again, now that you're getting more advanced it'll be better for you to train with him anyway.”

You felt your lip start to quiver again. “You just don't want to be around me anymore now, I get it.” You mumbled, trying to hide the shakiness in your voice. 

Baekhyun’s eyes squeezed shut for a second, “it's really not that, not at all.” 

He was pulling up to your dorm and you just wanted to get away from him now before he saw you start to cry again. “You don't have to keep lying to me, I know I'm the one who fucked everything up with that stupid kiss.” 

He parked, trying to think of how he could finally convince you that it wasn't your fault, but you were reaching for the door before he had the chance to say anything. 

“Y/n, wait, please-” 

You were already gone though, shutting the door behind you. As soon as you were outside of his car the tears came, and you tried to wipe them away as best you could as you hurried to your dorm. 

When you got to the elevator you prayed nobody would see you like this. You'd spent so much of the evening in tears, you knew you looked an absolute mess. You just wanted to get to your room where you could finally be alone and let it all out. 

“Y/n, wait!” 

You turned around, and there he was, jogging towards where you stood. Your stomach suddenly felt like it was in your throat, and then he was in front of you once again, this time taking both of your hands in his.

“I don't know what to tell you, for you to believe me, but it's not your fault, I swear. I- I don't want to stop teaching you either, really, but I can't keep being alone with you, not when I can't trust myself.” 

All you could do was stare back at him, knowing that you were a tearful mess. What he was telling you didn't make any sense in your mind. You kissed him. Not the other way around. 

“Please say something.” He was still panting a little as he said it, winded from having run after you. 

“What does that even m-mean, you can't trust yourself? I'm the one who kissed you, and I'm definitely not stupid enough to try that again, so what does it matter?” 

“I already told you, I shouldn't have put you, or us, in that situation in the first place.” 

“But that doesn't fucking matter! Who cares if we're alone, we've been alone for the last two hours and it was fine.” 

Only it really hadn't been fine, he knew that he shouldn't have been touching you at all.

You were staring back at him through tear filled eyes, and he felt absolutely terrible. He wanted to be able to comfort you, and eventually just gave in, throwing caution to the wind and wrapping his arms around you. 

He just didn't have it in him to stand and watch you cry, knowing that he was the reason. This time he felt the way you grabbed onto the back of his shirt, keeping him from moving away. 

“Please don't cry, I'm sorry, really, I just want what's best for you. We would still see each other occasionally around the company, it's not like this is goodbye forever.” 

“I- I don't want lessons with anyone else. You're the whole reason I was able to debut, you can't just leave me now. Please.” 

You were still holding onto him, and with every “please” you added, he was slipping. He hoped that you would eventually calm down, and he would be able to reason with you, to finally make you understand why he couldn't be around you so much anymore. 

He had no such luck. All you could think about was how badly you would miss him, how lost you would feel if he stopped mentoring you, the last few weeks had been bad enough already, the only thing that got you through without him was your embarrassment and how busy you'd been. You couldn't lose him, you needed him. 

Every minute that he listened to you cry because of him, he felt his rationality fade. As much as he knew he needed to distance himself, he wasn't going to do it if it hurt you that badly. 

You felt him take a deep breath, and finally, a soft “okay” fell from his lips. 

It wasn't until then that he felt your grip on him loosen, and you looked up at him. 

“What? Really?” You sniffled, face still wet. 

He nodded, running one hand through your hair, moving it from where it had started to stick to your face. 

Once again, your arms were thrown around him, but at least this time, it was because you were happy. You must've said thank you to him a million times that night, as you felt the relief wash over you. Baekhyun was all too aware of the way your chest pressed against his own. 

When he was finally free of your arms around him, you were beaming up at him, and he couldn't help but smile back. “You should get to your dorm before people start getting worried.” 

You nodded, pressing the button and hugging him one more time before the elevator arrived. 

“Bye” he waved, as you stepped inside and the doors started to shut “see you next week.” 

He knew he was in too deep, and he was a fool to give in to you, but now it was too late. He was going to have to live with his decision and try to keep things from going further, but he 

knew deep down that realistically, he didn’t have that kind of self control, not with you. 

~

Baekhyun hadn’t planned on seeing you again until the next lesson, but when your debut song entered the top ten on all the major charts just a few days later, he wanted to celebrate, and invited you to a nice dinner. That day you spent hours getting ready, putting on your favorite dress and making sure your hair and makeup were perfect. You knew that it wasn’t a date, but the way you felt leading up to him arriving could’ve fooled you. 

He picked you up and drove you to the restaurant, pulling up in the back where there was already somebody waiting to lead you to a private dining area where you’d be out of sight of the public. You hadn’t really thought about it, but you understood why it would probably be better for your dinner with him to stay between the two of you. 

It was the first time you’d been around him just to hang out, more as a friend than a student, and you thought it was magical. You were nervous at first, still having all of the past drama with him on your mind, but he was his usual wonderful self, easily leading the conversation, making you laugh until your stomach hurt, and he too felt it, how easy and right this was. You ended up at the restaurant with him for over two hours, neither of you wanting the night to end. Finally the awkward tension from the previous weeks was gone, replaced with optimism and gratitude for still having him in your life. 

When he finally dropped you off, he got out of the car to walk you inside, and you ended up alone with him, standing in front of the elevator once again. 

“Thank you for tonight,” You started, “everything still feels kind of surreal, I can’t believe this is actually my life now. And it’s all thanks to you.” 

“You always had it in you.” He said and smiled that lovely warm smile. You were about to press the button to take you upstairs, but he stopped you, looking around to make sure you were alone. “Wait- I know I tell you all the time that I’m proud of you and how far you’ve come, but I really can’t say it enough. I’m really lucky that I get to teach you. You have something special, truly.” 

You and him got stuck in a weird place, neither one talking, but not making any effort to leave either. The way he was looking at you pulled you in, and you thought you saw something flash across his face, something you hadn’t seen before. He stepped closer, close enough that you could feel his breath against your skin, and your heart rate skyrocketed, confused. He wasn’t sure what came over him, he must be insane. 

“Baekhyun?” You barely whispered, but he didn’t explain himself, instead he leaned in, and he kissed you. 

Your mind was going a million miles a minute and it made no sense to you whatsoever, but he was kissing you, softly, sweetly, like something out of one of the many day dreams you’d had about him. As quickly as it started he was pulling away again, his face tinted a deep shade of pink, smiling a bit bashfully at you, still too shocked to react. 

“Goodnight.” He whispered, and then he was walking back to his car. 

After that, things felt completely different with him. The hugs got longer, his words sweeter, and every time he dropped you off, he’d again kiss you goodnight. It wasn’t only after your weekly lessons together that he would drive you around either, you and him began to spend more and more time together, and had to get more and more cautious about not being seen. 

You would sneak out in big hoodies with a mask on to walk to where he was waiting in the parking lot, just to drive around all night with him in one of his fancy cars, talking, singing, and sometimes pulling off to the side of a quiet road where he would lean over and kiss you, though it never went any further. He knew that sneaking around with and kissing his student was bad enough, anything more, and in public, would be a whole different kind of stupid. 

Both of you started to lie a lot, to your managers, friends, anyone really who would question or even just ask about your relationship. To everyone else, he was still just your mentor, a strict student-teacher agreement and no more. The lying should’ve been your first clue as to how wrong it all was, but you were blinded by your feelings for him. Getting to be alone with him, kiss him, and talk to him about things no one else knew was too all consuming for you to even think twice about it.

How you talked to each other changed too. When you were alone with him he would call you baby, treating you less like a student, or even just a friend, and more as a lover. You should’ve been happy, thrilled, even, and you were when you were with him, but when he’d drop you off and you’d be alone in your dorm again, you’d break down.

The late nights together, the romance, the kisses, they were all wonderful in the moment, but afterwards you’d always part ways, realizing that it was all fleeting, that any relationship beyond what you already had with him was impossible, because no matter how you might feel about each other, you were still his student, and far too young to be involved with him in any deeper way. No number of kisses or secret rendezvous would make him yours, he made that clear. You would always end up alone in your dorm at the end of it all, crying, knowing it would never turn into anything more.

Seeing him during lessons was a different experience now. There would be other people around, and they didn’t think twice seeing you together, but you and Baekhyun would give each other knowing looks, or he’d wink at you, or something else to signify your little secret. You and him almost had a special secret language, joking with each other often with little more than a glance.

Even your manager didn’t know about you and him, she knew that he was mentoring you, but she’d known him for so long, she never even suspected that he might be acting inappropriately with you, he just didn’t seem like that kind of guy. 

The two of you had everyone fooled, and while it felt exciting on the surface, it also grew a new kind of shame within you, knowing that what you were doing was deeply wrong. 

What you had with him wasn’t real, and never should or could be, and it was starting to tear you apart. It took you weeks of working up the courage to do so, but finally, during a lesson, you decided you were going to confront him with all of it. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

Baekhyun shrugged. “Sure.” 

“But you have to promise you'll answer honestly!” 

“Okay! I promise.”

You took a deep breath. “What are we doing?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You know exactly what I mean. The sneaking around, the kissing, what is that about?” 

He'd been perfectly relaxed, but you could see how he tensed up as he realized what you were talking about. 

“Y/n, I don't think it's a good idea for us to talk about that right now-” 

“You said you'd answer!” 

A long sigh left him, eyes squeezing shut for a second. “Okay, okay. I’m just doing what feels right. You know I like you, but you also know that we can’t just act like we’re together either.” 

“Why?” 

“You know why.” 

“Cause it’s inappropriate? We both know that this entire arrangement hasn't been appropriate since you decided to mentor me, knowing that I have a huge crush on you.” 

You wanted to finally hear it from him, wanted him to admit that he'd been just as irresponsible as you, and Baekhyun didn't say a word. It was the hard truth that he'd been trying for so long to avoid, and you threw it right in his face. 

“Ever since then it feels like you've been slowly leading me on, acting like we have something special but never letting it feel completely real, when you're the one who started all this in the first place, and let it get this far.” 

He stared at you, and he knew he couldn't keep it up anymore, couldn't keep ignoring it. He saw your hurt and frustration clear as day, and finally, he broke. 

“I'm a fucking idiot. I know I am, I'm an idiot and knew that getting so close with you was a terrible idea but I ignored all of that because I like you too much, I never intended for us to end up like this and feel like a huge asshole because I know I'm in a position where it's completely wrong of me to touch you at all because of how we met and the power dynamic but still every time I see you that's all I can think about.” 

“Do you really not understand how cruel you're being?” 

You scoffed at how genuinely confused he looked. 

“I've liked you so much for so long, you know I have, and you just waltz into my life and start talking to me and then teaching me and then offering to mentor me, when you know I can't help but fall for you. You even make it clear that you like me back, inviting me out with you and kissing me but never truly acknowledging what it means, it feels fucking awful. You keep stringing me along because you like me even though you know you can't give me what I really want. You're such a selfish asshole for that.” 

Your voice grew less and less stable and Baekhyun saw how the tears gathered in your eyes, threatening to spill over. 

He knew there was no use trying to argue with you, he'd gotten himself into this mess and he knew he was the one to blame. “What do you want me to do?” 

“I don’t know. But it can’t go on like this, it hurts too much.”

The small room fell silent and all you could do was stare at each other. You looked so defeated, the guilt nearly brought him to tears, and he did the only thing he could think to do. 

He held your face in his hands, bringing you close, letting his lips meet your own. 

Kissing him was just as electrifying as it always was, only this time, he didn't stop, didn't hold back. You got lost in the feeling, savoring the familiar taste and feel of finally getting what you craved again. This time though, it couldn't end the way it always did. Something had to change, so you pulled away.  

“You can’t just kiss me again and then keep on the same way. Please, I need more.” 

His face fell, because he knew he couldn’t give you that. “Y/n, I’m sorry, but you know why I can’t do that, why it has to be like this.” 

And he was right, of course you understood, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. It would be the end of his career if he was seen with you, and even his close friends would be raising eyebrows. He was so much older, your teacher, and your idol. What you wanted was completely impossible. “I care about you, a lot, you know I do. I also wish it wasn’t like this but we don’t have another choice.” 

“So what? You keep stringing me along, and I just have to live with it? Knowing that no matter how much we may want it, we’ll never be able to be together?” 

He sighed, and frowned at how sad you looked. “Can’t we just be grateful for what we do have?” 

You shook your head, “I want too much.” 

Despite everything you said, you and him both knew that you wouldn't be able to walk away, and neither would he. So when he took your face in his hands, whispered another “I'm sorry,” and kissed you again, you melted into him effortlessly. 

It was heated and messy, both letting out all your grief and frustration, clinging to each other almost desperately. He kissed you harder, deeper than he had before, until this time he was the one to pull away, though he didn't move far, looking at you with a look that while apologetic, was still hopeful.  

“I can't give you what you want, but if we're careful, I can take you home with me. For tonight, we can act like it’s real.” 

Before, taking you home with him had always been off the table. You were both too easily recognizable, and being seen in his building together would make it dead obvious that your relationship was more than it should be, so it didn’t even seem like an option. 

Wide eyed, you nodded, and not even a half hour into the lesson he was sneaking you carefully out of the practice room, and then the building, into his car. You texted your manager some bullshit excuse as to why you'd be gone for the night, and then you were on your way to his place, for the very first time.  

You could hear the rapid pounding of your own heart as he drove you through the night, unsure but excited. Even if it was only for one night, and he was risking far too much, you were going to hold onto whatever you could get. 

When he pulled into his building’s garage, he gave you a hat and a mask to put on, he pulled up his hood and put his own mask on, saying a short prayer before getting out of the car, and walking in with you. If anyone saw and recognized you both, he would be fucked, so he hurried, and luckily you made it to his apartment without running into anyone. 

Once inside you both let out a sigh of relief. You were alone with him, truly alone, no chance of passers by seeing you, or label mates catching onto your relationship, just you and him, all night. 

When you felt his hand on your own, pulling you closer, it robbed you of your breath. He took his mask off, and then yours, and leaned in, though his lips only barely met your own before he was looking at you once again. “I’ve wanted you so badly, and I know it’s wrong and I’m an idiot and an asshole for doing this, but I just can’t bring myself to stay away from you.” 

“So don’t. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. I’m all yours.” 

You looked up at him, eyes sparking with all the hope and clueless naivety he should expect from you, a girl of barely twenty, who’d grown up loving him, and was powerless not to fall into his trap, whether he’d set it on purpose or not. He was a man ten years your senior, who positioned himself as an authority figure in your life, someone who should never touch you, kiss you, or anything even close. 

The guilt manifested as a lump in his throat, knowing that your feelings for him, your willingness to ignore how wrong it all was, were because of him. 

Still, he kissed you, with a kind of passion that was new to you both. Without any risk of getting caught, he let himself hold you tighter, let the kiss get more and more heated. He led you to the couch, where you ended up on his lap, his hands on your hips as his lips wandered to your neck, kissing, biting, enough to make you gasp and shiver, but not leave marks. 

For you it was otherworldly, lightheaded and dizzy with disbelief as his hands and lips stayed glued to your skin, finally living out the fantasies that played in your head when you laid alone at night, longing for him. You’d kissed boys in the past, but none of them came anywhere close to the way he made you feel. You were convinced nobody could ever make you feel the things Baekhyun could, and all he’d done was kiss you. He wasn’t some boy, he was a man, he knew what he was doing, and you wanted more. Every last little piece of him. 

The restraint was gone. He wanted you just as badly, and that was all he could focus on. When you pushed your hips further into him, he groaned at the friction, easily getting carried away. You felt, looked, sounded, tasted, even smelled divine to him. He’d been hard for a good while already, and this time when you rolled your hips and he felt you against him, he let out a satisfied groan. 

That only encouraged you further and you kept moving, lips moving heatedly against his, as you started to get yourself off against him, his hands on your ass guiding you. 

“I want more.” You breathed out when he pulled back for air. “Where’s your bedroom?” 

Baekhyun didn’t answer, rather he stood, your legs still wrapped around him as he carried you away, until gently laying you down on his mattress. 

With you he became a gentle, caring lover. Maybe it was your age, or the fact that he’d been your mentor, but the way he touched you was like you were something precious. Like if he wasn’t careful, you would break. Even as he positioned himself between your thighs, he was cautious, never moving too quickly, watching for any hesitation on your end. 

But there was none, your desire for him was all-consuming in a way that was hard to understand, even in the moment. Without him pressed against you, you felt like you might actually die. 

“I’m not made of glass, Baek. You don’t have to be so careful.” 

“I know, I just… I want to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. I want this to be special.” 

When his lips met yours for the nth time that day, you started to tug on his clothes, until his shirt was being pulled over his head and he got to work undressing you as well. One by one he took off your blouse, followed by the skirt you were wearing, next unhooking your bra, until all that was left on your body was a pair of lacy underwear. Still desperate for his affection, you kept your lips glued to his all you could, the added feel of his warm skin against your own stealing any rationality from your mind. All you could think of was him, you wanted him in a way you didn’t even know was possible. 

He froze above you when your hand reached down, trying to get the button of his jeans undone. 

Even the few seconds when his touch left you completely as he finished undressing himself felt torturous. A breath got stuck in your throat when you felt his hands at your hips, slowly pulling the last piece of clothing from your body before reclaiming his place between your thighs. 

As your eyes met his and he started to move closer, you realized that there was something he needed to know. 

“Wait- I should probably tell you, I’ve never done this before.”

You watched as the color drained from Baekhyun’s face, eyes wide. He hadn’t even considered that you might be a virgin, you were old enough to have some experience, but it shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise to him either. Those five words hit him like a punch in the gut. 

He rolled off of you, hands running through his hair, eyes squeezed shut. “God, this is so fucked up.” 

You sat up, taking one of his hands and he looked at you with uncertainty. “It’s not a big deal, but I’m sorry if that was a bit of a shock.” 

He gave you a sympathetic, but worried look. “It is a big deal though, at least to me. This would be irresponsible enough if it wasn’t your first time, I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t want to be responsible for how you’ll feel afterwards.” 

His words made your heart sink and a lump form in your throat. “What? No, please, Baekhyun, trust me, there isn’t anyone in the entire world that I would rather do this with than you, here and now. Please. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything this badly.” 

“You have to realize how tough of a spot you’re putting me in.” 

“I don’t care. I just want you, I’ve never been so sure of anything in my entire life. Please.” 

You moved closer to him, linking your hands behind the back of his neck, taking him with you as you fell back onto the mattress. He looked down at you, still unsure. 

“Please.” 

He shushed you with another kiss, but had his own conditions if he was really going to be your first. “You have to tell me immediately if you feel uncomfortable at all, or if it hurts, and you can stop me at any point if you don’t want it anymore.” 

You could see in his eyes the concern and uncertainty he was feeling, but you had gotten this far, and you knew what you wanted, and you wanted it bad. You nodded, and he was between your legs once again, the anticipation rising. 

Baekhyun didn’t miss the way you gasped at the first touch of his length against your inner thigh. He wanted to make sure you were ready, that it didn’t hurt too badly, so he started with one finger inside you, slowly working it in and out, before adding a second. The wetness and your whimpers told him you were more than ready, easily taking his digits, and finally, he moved to replace them with his length.  

You felt him position himself at your entrance, and you were certain you’d never felt that kind anticipation before, leaving you a shaking, panting mess underneath him. 

You felt his hand softly against your cheek, and your eyes opened to meet his. “Y/n, baby. You’re sure you want this?” 

You nodded without even a second of hesitation. “Yes, god, please.” 

The softness of his kiss was a stark contrast to the intrusion of him pushing inside, the pain making your eyes squeeze shut and a whine pass your lips. 

He stopped moving when he saw your reaction, giving you time to adjust to the new sensation. “Am I hurting you?” 

It did hurt, but your desire overpowered any sign of discomfort. “Please don’t stop.” 

With his forehead pressed to yours he kept going, until his hips were flush with yours. He felt your discomfort in how tense you were, staying still to let the pain subside. 

“Baekhyun, please.” 

You might’ve not minded the pain, too concerned with the intense need for more, but he wasn’t going to move until he knew you were okay. 

“I know it hurts baby, you have to relax, can you do that for me?” 

You whined in response but realized that he was right, you were extremely un-relaxed, and as you made a conscious effort to let go of all the tension in your body, the pain faded away. 

He felt it, and saw how you melted into the mattress, and took it as his cue to start moving. 

The first thrust had your back arching, moaning his name and he just kept going, setting a slow rhythm. You clung to him, moaning unabashedly, losing yourself to the new and incredible feeling of him inside you. Nothing could’ve prepared you for it, this was so much better than anything you’d been able to come up with in your own fantasies. Just the weight and warmth of him on top of you overwhelmed you, combined with the feeling of him pushing in, pulling out almost completely each time, before sinking back into you, it was like your own personal heaven. He was your own personal heaven. 

It only got better as he kept moving, that familiar warm feeling building in the pit of your stomach. You’d had orgasms before, but what you could do with your own hands didn’t even compare to what he was doing to you. It was a wholly different, and far more intense sensation. 

His lips collided with yours in a messy, lustful haze, praises passing his lips in between breaths.  “You feel so good baby, so perfect, so beautiful.”

Those words heightened everything even more, his low voice sending chills running down your spine. 

“Baek, please.” 

You didn’t even know what you were begging for anymore, you were just imploring him for more, everything and anything he could give you, you wanted it. The feeling of him rolling his hips into you again and again clearing your mind, your pleasure and desire all consuming. 

However he could see it in your eyes, how you needed more, and picked up the pace. The way he pushed himself into you, now faster, and with more force, had the tightness in your belly growing more intense by the second. 

The build up was more intense than you ever knew possible, losing control as he continued his ministrations, until all at once, you fell. 

The orgasm raged through you, leaving every nerve ablaze, as you shook and gasped at the overwhelming wave of pleasure. 

Above you, Baekhyun was losing control too, still pushing inside deeply, teetering on the edge, but your fucked out expression combined with the way you clenched around him had him reaching his high soon after you, shuddering with a moan as he let go. 

For a minute you both stayed just like that, panting, gasping, letting the climax slowly fade, until there was nothing left but a tangled web of sweaty limbs. 

When he pulled out and rolled off of you, the loss of his warmth made you whine. You barely even noticed when he got up, soon returning with a wet towel, and cleaning you up. 

He settled in next to you, and you smiled when his arm wrapped around you, pulling you into him. 

Luckily the exhaustion did well to lull you to sleep, any painful thoughts being pushed to the morning, but you wouldn’t be able to escape them forever. 

He woke you up with a kiss on the cheek, and at first it all felt so nice, so tender and intimate, in bed together with him as the sun began to poke through the curtains. Slowly he got up, and you followed, feeling the dull ache between your thighs as you stood. 

Seeing the way you grimaced at the soreness, he was quickly at your side. “Shit, sorry.” He muttered. 

You just let out a small laugh. “It’s okay, it was worth it, at least. Definitely worth it.” 

He smiled, pulling his clothes on as you gathered your own, before doing the same. “Let’s get you home, before it gets busy and people could see us leaving here together."

There it was, the rude call back to reality. That your night with him was over, that now you would have to hide again, to sneak around, and constantly be reminded that he wasn’t really yours, and never would be. 

Stupid, foolish girl. 

You managed to make it back home without being spotted, and even his kiss goodbye couldn’t keep the sadness from taking you over. He noticed it too, how you seemed to shut down after making it to his car. 

Back in your room, you let it all out, letting the tears seep into your pillow. Once again, he’d turned you into a complete mess, the pain and frustration leaving you broken.

Nobody could ever again give you what he could, could make you feel what he could. It was him, the man you’d looked up to and admired for so many years, and now after having slept with him, it was clearer than ever. 

That was the nature of your relationship with him. You were powerless to him, and no matter how much it would ruin you, you'd let him do it, over and over again.

For him, you would ruin yourself, a million little times.

[titan-senpai]

What the hell?? Pt.3

A young lady who was a model lived on earth ended in a tragic way.. and ended up in hell somehow? While she cant hurt a fly.. Right?

Warning: Cursing,smoking.

pt [1] [2]

I don't know how long it's been since I ended up here.. I've joined the Vees as THE Model of hell and ended up as an overlord amongst them.

It's probably been a few years.. The Princess of Hell Charlie was 12 when I came here.. She's almost an adult. so i've been here for a while i guess, my death was a mystery but at the end they both joined me in hell and i made them suffer as an overlord.

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Heels clacking as me and Velvette walked to the elevator to the meeting being fashionably late. As the elevator closed I checked my phone looking at my upcoming shoots for this week. as Vel opened the door on the phone with Valentino as I took a seat and apologized for being late as Carmilla gave me a nod. " R you doubting me? Really me?!" She yelled at the phone " They're all a joke.. I know" She leaned on the chair next to me " thank you see ya soon, Kisses darling" She hung up taking a seat down.

" Nice of you to join us, Velvette... Will your colleagues be joining?" she asked, turning to look at us. Vel quickly smiled " No they have better shit to then listen to an old windbag, who thinks she's tough shit. We're here to represent." She put an arm over me.

'Charming.."She continued with the meeting. " As I was saying we need to discuss.." she pointed at the board behind her as Vel lifted her hand up "Yes?" Carmilla said.

" On the subject of Discussion." She smiled, pulling a dead exterminator's head, throwing it across the table for her, smiling with a grin as I took notes of the meeting... that was getting interrupted.

Everyone was shocked upon seeing the head on the desk. Carmilla looked with a serious look " Where did you get this.." i spoke up "we found it during extermination day." " If these things can be killed, it changes everything, we can take the fight to them" She stood on the desk, heels klanking. "My gang has come up with a full assault plan" she smiled looking at me as i stood up fixing my skirt walking to carmilla handing her the notes about the plan to assault them.

Loud sipping was heard from Zestial as everyone looked at him. "Is it true my colleagues want to start a war with such little proof." he put his hands together "Thou art far more foolish than i thought." My blood boiled "little proof? Its a dead fucking exorist!" she pointed at the head we brought. she crossed her arms as i sat back down in my seat " You going blind..Old man" she said smiling at him.

"We don't know how this perished..mayhaps was not by demons hands at all." he said holding his cup again " if we rush to war without knowing when they purge all of hell for a daring uprising." Hitting his fist on the table.

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The meeting was over and me and Vel were headed back to headquarters to rest and I had to get ready for my photoshoot with Angel dust.

as we entered the building i took my heels off slipping on comfortable slippers "That old hag can go fuck herself" Velvette yelled storming inside as i let her cool down.

" How did it go?" Valentino asked me as he looked at his phone. " Nothing much the usual, where is Vox?" I sighed as I took a seat on the couch. " He's at Voxtech doing his daily routine" he inhaled smoke.

rubbing my temples " when will Angel get here.." i looked at the ceiling. as i felt smoke being exhaled " He is getting ready on location. so should you." he leaned closer to my face. " You're right, I'll see you later val. " I stood sending a text to Vel who was pissed in her room. putting on my heels back on and getting in my car.

Soon I arrived at the location of the shoot for a new lingerie set. parking my car reserved for the Vees. getting in the elevator to see Angel dust. "Hey y/n!" he said waving from his chair as they got the set ready. I can say I'm quite close with Angel since he became Valentinos slave. I've been helping him and fighting with Valentino for his sake.

" hey Angiee!" I smiled as I hugged him "Give me a minute, I need to get ready. '' I smiled as I walked to the changing room. making my own lingerie fitting me perfectly. looking in the mirror adjusting tiny details as a necklace, earrings and curling my hair the way I like.

I walked out of the changing room in seconds with floating makeup touching up my face. " Ready I smiled as I made them go away. "In position" the director yelled. " also you y/n!" He yelled angrily as I looked back to him with black eyes with red pupils the complete opposite of what they normally are...

Angelic..

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As we were in the middle of a shoot the door flung upon revealing the princess of hell. " Woah! this is where Angel does his work" She smiled looking around. " take 5" the director yelled "Charlie?! What are you doing here" Angel walked to her. as I put a robe around myself and grabbed one for angel. " You mean us?" she smiled revealing a familiar face.

" Husk?" I walked closer to them. "Whos asking ?" he yelled. I put the robe on angel and me and husk locked eyes. " Y/N'' he looked at me for quite some time. " It's been a while hasn't it?" I smiled, bending down to his height " yeah i haven't seen you since i left.." He smiled. I missed that smile..

That smile could make Hell feel like Heaven for a minute...

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[brodygold]

The Lecture

Bruce slid into his usual seat in the front row of the lecture hall, noting his best friend, Sawyer, already there. Sawyer was hunched over his desk, rearranging his meticulously organized notes. His wide-rimmed glasses slid down his nose as he adjusted his pocket protector, crammed full of pens in every color imaginable. The faint glow of his acne-covered cheeks highlighted his enthusiasm.

Bruce set his worn-out bag on the floor and pulled out his trusty notebook, a favorite blue pen, and his lucky number 2 pencil. He also placed two highlighters—yellow and green—on the desk for easy access. He and Sawyer exchanged quick grins, ready for another one of Dr. Hanson's legendary physics lectures.

"I heard we're talking about quantum particles today!" Sawyer whispered excitedly, the grin on his face wide enough to show his braces.

"Poggers, Sawyer! I've been waiting for this since the semester started," Bruce replied, his voice buzzing with equal enthusiasm.

While Bruce didn't sport Sawyer's stereotypical nerdy look, he had his own geeky charm—a mop of unkempt blonde hair that fell past his shoulders, a pair of noise-canceling headphones permanently dangling around his neck, and a gamer’s gut, nurtured by too many late-night snack breaks. They were an inseparable pair, their shared passion for science and gaming solidifying their bond.

As the rest of the lecture hall filled, a hush fell over the room when the door banged open. A young man, probably in his late 20s, strolled confidently to the podium. His athletic build was hard to miss under a tight gold jersey, the fabric hugging his broad chest and biceps.

"Hey there bros. You all can call me Mr. Gold. Or Brody if you're feeling more casual."

Sawyer shot his hand up. "Mr. Gold, where is Mr. Hanson? He didn't say anything about missing class today."

"Great question, bro. I actually ran into him on his way to class and we had a nice chat. We both decided it might be good for me to give a guest lecture today while he runs some errands." Mr. Gold took the opportunity to write the title of the lecture on the board:

The Physics of Football

"Ew. Sports." Bruce thought.So much for quantum particles. He didn't even like playing video games about sports, and now they were forced to learn about the "math and science" behind it all? He wondered if he should just get up and leave, but he was sitting in the front and everyone would see him. Might as well just sit and listen to what Mr. Gold had to say.

"Now it might sound strange to you nerds, but there's actually a lot of math involved in sports. The players may be too dumb to do the calculations in their head, but they're there. Let's go over an example."

Mr. Gold turned around and started drawing on the board. It was easy to see it was one football player throwing the ball to another.

"Let's say that during the play, the QB wants to throw the ball to the wide receiver. Thanks to forces like gravity, the ball will eventually land. The tricky part is getting the ball to land in the receiver's hands. Let's say he throws the ball and the two are 70 yards apart. What shape is the path of the ball?"

Pfft. That was an easy question. Bruce went to put his hand up and give the answer, when his mind suddenly went blank. He knew they'd just covered this exact topic in his calc class, but nothing came to mind besides "curve." He tugged at the collar of his button down, feeling uncomfortable in it all of a sudden.

"Anyone? Guess we have a bunch of dumb jocks in this class." Mr. Gold let out a chuckle. "The answer is 'parabola.' The ball travels in a parabola from the quarterback to the receiver. Now let's just say the equation representing the parabola is as follows." He turned back around and wrote a relatively simple equation on the board.

"Now obviously the dumb jock isn't going to know what the equation is when he throws the ball. He just goes off of instinct and practice. But there's so much we can figure out from knowing the exact equation. For example, we can figure out when the ball hits the ground. Any idea how we might do that?"

Bruce scoffed. Another easy question. You just sent the equation equal to zero and... and... damn it! This was supposed to be so simple to a nerd like him! His mind felt like it was slowing down. Though the football example was making more sense now. He was getting a bit invested in it and could see Sawyer was too, the other nerd having taken off his glasses to better pay attention.

"You bros really are dumb jocks, huhu." This time some of the guys in the class laughed along, their voices seeming deeper than Bruce remembered. Maybe he shouldn't have stayed up all night binging that new space documentary series. "Let's work through it together nice and slow. We set the equation equal to zero like so. Then we just need to solve for x. Simple algebra at this point. Why don't we try it ourselves and see what we get?"

Bruce tried to solve the equation in his notebook, but he found it harder to hold the pencil. His hands almost seemed meatier than they should be. His grey t-shirt felt great though. Nice and tight, just how he liked it! But seriously, who would ever need to know this stuff? Like Mr. Gold said, it's all instinct and practice anyway!

"Alright bros. Did any of my dumb jocks get the answer? You should have gotten 6 seconds. By the blank looks on your faces, it seems you all may be a bit too dumb for this. I was going to ask if any of you remembered how derivatives worked, but why don't we all go throw the ball around outside instead?"

Bruce let out a yell of approval with all the other jocks in the class. He turned to look at his best bro Sawyer and gave the hot jock a fist bump,. Who cared about any of this nerd crap anyway? He looked at the golden jersey he was wearing with pride. The Golden Army was his home, through and through. He was just in school to get a sports management degree and work full time for the best team ever made!

Mr. Gold smiled at the cheers. "Excellent. Class dismissed."

[olderthannetfic]

Of course people are being defensive, Spotify Anon. You rolled into the Fandom Old corner of Tumblr to tell us to examine our biases based on a streaming platform that only half of us even use at all.

Someome compared it to the f/f wank and they're right. If you accuse people of bullshit based on completely ufounded speculation, half of them will block you and the other half will explain to you why you're wrong. And we can't block other people's anons, so you're just going to have to endure a barrage of "this is bullshit and here's why". You asked for this, this is us examining the racial bias in our spotify wrapped and going "huh, it can't show bias if it doesn't exist" or "how does the fact that I listen to weird non-American music you've never heard of say anything about my feelings about the personhood and rights of American popstars I've never heard of?"

--

Spotify wrapped season is really popular broadly (though not so much around here) to the point that I find it very annoying since you apparently have to download the app to see wrapped??? I hate this season every year.

I use spotify via a browser, grudgingly, because some friends' fun guess-the-song stuff is on there. I had to use it at the fertility clinic because that's what they use to play music while injecting you with eggs. (I picked Mono if anyone is curious, but given how insanely painful being inflated with saline was, I should probably have picked D-2. I just thought it wasn't available because Spotify used to NOT FUCKING HAVE most of BTS' side projects because Spotify sucks donkey balls. Have I mentioned lately how much I resent the ubiquity of this piece of garbage? Have I?)

The thing that gets me that I hadn't quite worked out until just now is that 100 songs is the precise right amount to feel huge and significant without actually being so. Top 100 albums or artists is still an illusion of knowing what someone listens to. (Spotify has been improving, but they still routinely don't have the stuff I want.) But at least there, by the time you get to my 100th most listened to artist for a year, you might have some kind of picture of what I listen to.

Now, if you only listen to prog rock on vinyl, maybe your top 100 songs represent about 50 albums. >:D But let's say you're listening to some modern albums with bonus tracks and shit on Spotify. Your top 100 might be March When I Broke Up And Listened To The Same Five Albums Day And Night. No matter how diverse and interesting the rest of your musical diet, your bland-ass breakup playlist is now ninety out of one hundred songs on your Spotify Wrapped for this year.

I think it's that previously not totally conscious thought about how many 100 songs really is that was annoying me until just now.

Sure, it's just one scenario, but I think this sense of what 100 songs means is what's really annoying me about how people go on about Wrapped. Not just here and about racism: All the mainstream blathering about Wrapped annoys the shit out of me too every damn year.

It's a little like kudos. The top 200-500 most kudosed things in a big fandom may well show some pattern I find interesting. The top 100 most kudosed things show that people like that daily updating omegaverse crossover ship epic with Tony Stark.

Okay, okay, with kudos, you could probably exclude the top 10-30 depending on fandom size, but you know what I mean. Your last 100 fics read mean little, IMO. Your last 100 fandoms read, which is likely to be significantly more than 100 fics, is interesting to me.

It's my usual Numbers Are Deceptive complaint about how people love stats but do not contextualize things well.

[ktamina]

SID for Metal Hammer, 1999

¡¡¡FULL interview here!!!

SID WILSON

Age: 22.

Marital status: I have a girlfriend.

Nickname?: Filth, or the epitome of...

Born and bred?: Born in Des Moines although my whole family is from England.

Instrument played?: Turntables.

Band previous to Slipknot?: I have a DJ crew called Soundproof Coalition, who are based out of Des Moines.

First record bought?: The first one I owned was the Miami Vice soundtrack which my parents bought for me.

First band seen live?: I was really young and my parents took me to see Sheena Easton.

Describe yourself in three words: Organic brain syndrome.

What does your mask represent?: To me it's like I'm killing myself on stage. I am constantly at war as the gas mask reminds people at war, so it's like I am constantly dying up there.

Was the visual image your idea?: Yeah, it kinda fell in my lap. I got into the band and was looking for a mask and the gas mask kinda found me. Since then I have been pretty interested in them and If I ever see one I buy it. Right now I have seven or eight of them.

Special Ingredient you bring to the band?: Youth, as I am the youngest member of the band which keeps it fresh.

What is your greatest fear?: Dying young. It is something I think about, as you can die from all kinds of things- I could break my neck at a show, catch a disease or the government could assassinate me.

What is your idea of hell?: I don't believe in it. If there is a hell, planet earth is it.

First job: Working at raves.

Have you ever experimented with auto eroticism?: Yeah, I guess I have. I've wore choke collars, as in the rave scene there have been a lot of experiences which have been pretty crazy.

Tell me your favorite sexual fantasy introducing Salvador Dalí (the late great surrealist painter), an orange, and a bicycle?: I would ride the bicycle for three hours to be completely exhausted, then me and my girlfriend would enter the painting with the melted clocks in it (The Persistence of Memory) and then at the point of orgasm melt like the clocks and eat the oranges for a reward.

Do you enjoy a good wank?: Yeah, every day. When we went on The Howard Stern Show I wanted in show him my cock and I was trying to keep it a decent hanging size, so I was jerking off, and by the time we were on it only lasted a minute so I didn't even get the chance to show it. I think he was actually quite scared of it.

Do you often wank in public?: It depends. When I go into my personality of number 0 the number takes over and I never know what he is going to do, but myself, not really.

What would be the concept for a Slipknot porno movie?: I probably wouldn't do much talking as when I am in my alter ego of 0 I don't talk much. There would be a lot of drooling, slobbering and grunting. There would be no need for dialect, just get down to it.

Hobbies outside the band?: I like to snowboard and sculpt with clay. I am also into cooking. My mom has been teaching me since I was three. My speciality is french crepes.

Fave horror movie?: Evil Dead 2 and Army Of Darkness.

Fave author?: Edgar Allen Poe is the only literature have ever finished reading.

Band you'd like to tour with?: It wouldn't go in with the genre of Skipknot, but me personally, it would be The Beastie Boys. At the point when I got into DJing, break dancing and hip hop The Beastie Boys were a big part of that. I have always listened to them.

Who do you think is the most heavy metal band of all time?: Slipknot.

Worst way to die?: Without my family. By myself.

If your house was burning down. What is the one thing you would run in and save?: If all my family was out, I would have to go and get the hair wrap my girlfriend gave me before we started dating. It is made out of her hair.

If you were the president of the USA for a day and could achieve one thing only. What would it be?: I would make it a free country and expose the government for what it is.

What is your dog called?: Mary Jane Wilson. She's part whippet and part dingo.

if you read all this follow me ¡HERE! I post media of Sid every 4 hours ♡

[late-draft]

I want to know all of the details of the scifi au like right now, I'm so hooked instantly

Okay let me set the stage!

This is a sci-fi AU, leaning onto (what I've read) the first idea of ATLA; however unlike how it had Aang be from an ancient technologically advanced civilization waking up in a technologically regressed world(?), here the tech that Air Nomads had was forgotten and new one was created and it proliferated.

An important thing to keep in mind is that I intended this AU to be literally made up of iconic, primeval tropes of young audience's shows. I'm currently in a phase where I test how well I'm able to incorporate tropes and make the best use of them, so for this AU, expect it to feel EXACTLY like the thrill of running at 10 PM up to your grandma's CRT TV to watch that amazing series on Jetix you can't get enough of!!!!

~~~

First thing to notice here, the world has a Key Holder for every bending type. Keys are your magical symbols. It's the standard trope in these types of shows, think of them as kids who represent the absolute core traits of their element. Because Aang has to find specific individuals now rather than arbitrarily choosing a teacher, we have a tighter narrative although more trope-y. Aang is the Key holder for Air - every Avatar is always a Key holder for their native element, but can be taught other bending types only by respective elements' Key holders.

As expected, the world is ruled by the Fire Nation's strongest corporation, led by Emperor Ozai. Most of the setting is skyscrapers, huge power cables and mazes of pipeworks. Hakoda is the leader of resistance but he had disappeared two years ago, leaving his two children with a warning to stay hidden and safe below ground. Their secret hideout is pretty safe and cozy. Of course Sokka and Katara would not sit idly forever! Wandering through the underground they discover an ancient cryo pod, the only active one left. When he comes to himself, Aang realizes that he's the last airbender in the world for the past 1000 years.

The Avatar is able to operate ancient spiritual machines that the Air Nomads tended to. Once he learns all bending types, he'll be able to return airbending to the world through a Harmonic Convergence event by activating a huge lionturtle machine. The problem is - nobody knows where this machine is, but the Avatar is able to "listen" for signs of keyholders and machines through an ancient leftover network. Katara and Sokka swear to aid Aang in achieving this goal and restoring balance to the world. Ever since airbenders disappeared, there had been heavy dissonance in the spirit world, creating terrible natural disasters that altered the face of the planet. They're having difficulty finding the Key holder for Water.... the first one they find is Toph for Earth! She joins the gaang in late season 1 :)

In this AU, there's a tradeoff where the element of kungfu fights is reduced in favour of high-speed chases through the metropolis. Aang (14) moves quickly through the city using only his airbending, by running or speeding on his air sphere. The only piece of new equipment he wears are clear plastic goggles that Sokka (18) gave him. And while you might expect Zuko (19) to be chasing them on a red motorbike, no! It's in fact Katara (17) who's a super-skilled bike driver while Zuko and his entourage are on ROLLERBLADES SKATING ACROSS WALLS AND PIPES. Propulsion via firebending! (same thing Azula does in canon, just elevated to skating). Iroh waits for his nephiew to fail each chase and offer him tea, he's just wearing black dress pants. XD Sokka is Katara's genius engineer brother who constantly grumbles and throws sarcastic remarks because he has to fix her bike after every. single. chase! In this setting, Ozai is specifically looking for the Avatar because he could, using unethical means and technology on a trapped Avatar, be able to grant all bending types to whoever he chooses. This would spell disasteeeer. However, it's also implied that in a similar way, he could "fix" anyone...

Some notes:

You can probably feel the conclusions of many things I left blank. This is on purpose.

Zuko absolutely must have to be motivated by a desire to win his father's approval and love, this must not change. I'll introduce Azula in a later post.

The lionturtle as a concept and its effects are made clear and setup from the get-go. The spiritual machines are just a background element that doesn't affect the plot, it's just a goal.

Aang still has a crush on Katara! And it would be brought up a bit more frequently, in order to serve the plot.

Ozai is doing something concrete that's directly related to Avatar's bending, tying him closer to the Avatar as his antagonist.

This AU's setting is as you may have sensed, more mellow at first. It doesn't have a currently active war.

The characters are older because that feels more fitting to me. (I was investigating W.I.T.C.H. show and saw they were basically all 13 and dating and I was like. "Yikes. No")

Help me dig out any VISUAL references you might remember, from shows of the similar vibe. The goal is not to mimic but to add to the characteristic genre.

These screenshots are from OBAN: STAR RACERS and are what I'd associate with the old Air Nomad technology!

Shape Da Future from Jet Set Radio is precisely what aligned perfectly with this AU.

I'll be sharing more details about this AU in future posts, and everyone is welcome to add their ideas and thoughts on it! I wonder what I forgot to mention here…

[samiiy20]

♡ 𝑯𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒚𝒖𝒏𝒋𝒊𝒏 ♡

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: Hyunjin x fem!reader 𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑒: Smut 𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 3.5k 𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: Age difference (keep in mind that they are both of legal age, but still with a notable difference), oral sex, unprotected sex. 𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠: You're in love with your art teacher, but you've never told anyone until he finds out.

N/A: I've had this idea in my head for a while and hadn't been able to express it, but I finally got it, I hope you like it. Not without first clarifying that this type of behavior is illegal and that I am not in favor of it.

N/A2: This is the first long work I've done in a long time, it took me a long time to do it so I hope you like it

Here is the link to pt.2

masterlist II tag list

This content NOT is for minors!!!

This is merely entertainment, this does not represent any real person.

It is forbidden to copy or translate my work.

English NO is my first language.

The music resonated in your head while your hands moved across the paper tracing confusing lines. You weren't passionate about art, but drawing from time to time kept your mind calm, although right now your thoughts were shrouded in a cloud of confusion.

Your hands had left the pencil and you looked at your creation, you cursed when you saw the result, but you still put it in your things and went to sleep to stop thinking, although you knew that in your dreams you would also see it.

You knew that today wouldn't be the best day since you woke up late, the weather was ruining your shoes and you had forgotten some things in the rush, but the only thing that could cheer you up was art class. You had signed up to fulfill something, but you discovered that you liked it more than you thought and not just the class.

When you entered class had already started so you ran to sit in one of the empty chairs at the back without looking at anyone. You took out your things excitedly, you put all your attention on what the teacher was saying.

"…art is more than simple lines and strokes, they express everything that each of you can think and feel…" his gaze met yours for a couple of seconds, but you felt as if he were going through your head and he could see through it. You avoided his eyes by looking down at where the hundreds of his drawings were.

You couldn't help it, since you entered the first day and looked at him you thought he was the most beautiful being your eyes could have ever seen, for a moment you thought he was just another student, so you were quite surprised to know that he would be your teacher. The passage of time only helped you torture your thoughts with images of him, his free hair, his bright eyes, his sweet smile, his relaxing voice, the curve of his neck, his hands on the pencils; Everything about him made you forget anything.

After a short lesson on some new types of strokes they started to work but you couldn't concentrate with him hovering and you could only feel the intensity of your thoughts between your legs, the excitement that stained the fabric of your panties just by imagining his hands on your body.

Although your thoughts tortured you, you tried to stay calm to continue drawing, but you couldn't concentrate, your strokes were unsure and misaligned, the sheet that was originally white was now dirty and messy.

"What's happening?" You were excited when you heard a voice behind you, but you didn't need to look to know who it was.

"Nothing, it's just… I don't know what to do."

"Mmmm… I don't think so" you turned to look at him but when your eyes met you went blank. He took the paper on your desk and looked at it carefully. "I think you're not listening to your mind, you're trying to capture something you don't want."

"I… I can't draw what I want."

"Why not? What's stopping you from doing it?"

You shook your head forgetting that thought and trying to get your work, but he pushed it away.

"You should draw what you feel," he touched your forehead with two of his fingers and you grunted when he pushed your head a little, "not what you force yourself to think."

He broke the paper he had and went to his desk, you sighed trying to get out all your frustration and ignoring the fact that his fingers had touched you even for a second.

You took out your own folder and looking to the sides in case anyone saw you carefully opened it revealing what you really wanted. Him. Each page of that folder was Hyunjin's things, his lips, his eyes,his face, his smile, his hands, his body; but you couldn't give it to him, he would be scared just by seeing it, so you tore off a blank sheet of paper and closed the folder, hiding it.

In the end you drew the rainy landscape of the window, you were satisfied with the result and you handed it to your teacher praying that he would not reject it. He took it and after a quick glance at the page he looked at you sighing, leaving it in the pile of drawings on his desk. You looked at the time and noticed that it was already too late for your class so you ran out with a too light weight in your backpack.

When classes ended you decided to stay a little while the rain cleared, but it didn't seem like it was going to end. You decided to go to the library to do some work and maybe get some sleep, when you were taking out your things you noticed that something was missing. Your folder of drawings, you started to get alarmed and panic. Without thinking twice you ran to the art classroom praying that no one had found it.

If someone saw what was inside they would realize the obsession you had with your teacher. You were almost crying just thinking about what could happen, the burning in your lungs not caring when you turned and saw the classroom.

You opened the door without knocking and noticed that there was no one except Hyunjin at his desk. He turned to look at you through the glasses on his nose and raised his eyebrow.

"What's happen?"

"…n…nothing… it's just that…" you stopped for a bit to take a breath and tried to continue "I forgot some things."

Before he told you to come in, you were already in the middle of the classroom looking for your folder on the desks. When you got to where you had sat, you felt like your soul left your body when you couldn't find anything. You began to go around each of the chairs in search of your folder but when you didn't see anything, the tears in your eyes accumulated.

"Are you looking for this?" Almost forgetting that Hyunjin was there, you looked at him holding your folder in his hands. You didn't know what was worse, losing it or him having it, but hoping he hadn't seen it, you nodded, trying to calm your trembling legs as you went to get it.

With every step you took you wanted the earth to swallow you more, but when you finally reached his desk the only thing you hoped was that he wouldn't say anything. He extended the folder and you took it without objection, feeling a little relief, but when you opened it slowly, making sure he didn't see anything, you were scared when you saw that all the pages were blank. You flipped through the pages trying to find the evidence that gave you away, but there was no trace of it.

"But where…??" you went through the entire folder without finding anything "this is not mine."

"I guess this isn't either?" He threw a pile of leaves on the piece of wood and you looked down finding all your drawings of him, you swallowed and dared to look at him "well?"

"I…that…isn't mine" your voice shook a little and when he sighed, lowering your head, you stayed still. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, getting up from his place. You felt small when you noticed the height difference but you were so afraid that you couldn't move from where you were.

He walked around the desk until he was in front of you, you couldn't lift your head and you only looked at his feet.

"So what were you looking for?"

"N…nothing."

"So that's not yours?" You denied looking at the floor, but you noticed how he moved his body a little closer to take the drawings "then I'll have to ask one by one who he is?" You stayed silent looking at the drawings he was holding, you mentally scolded yourself for having drawn them.

You heard a long sigh from him and then one of his hands grabbed your chin to lift your face. Your eyes went somewhere else away from his face and you were holding back the urge to breathe.

"Answer me, is that what you really want?"

You clenched your fists and dared to exchange glances, you were fighting to stay on your feet, to not breathe and calm your mind, but everything was too overwhelming. You felt vulnerable having him so close and feeling the warmth of his skin on you.

"You always try to hide/repress what you want, but what you don't know is that you're an open book" you kept your gaze steady but a blow to your stomach was present.

"I do not know what you are talking about…"

"You think I'm stupid?" His hand gently descended down your neck to your collarbones. "Do you think I don't feel your gaze all the time? Do you think I don't notice how your little body tenses when I talk to you or how your legs tighten when I get too close?" You closed your eyes trying to suppress the emotions in your chest, but his breath hit your neck and you felt like you couldn't hold your breath anymore.

"That is not true."

"Then why does your heart feel like it's going to burst out?" He pressed his lips to your skin beneath your collarbones and you finally let out all your pent-up air. “Your drawings reveal who you really are, they show what you want.”

Hyunjin withdrew a little, for a moment you felt relieved but on the other hand you thought about the possibilities of this happening again, everything you had been holding back was overflowing from that little kiss and you couldn't hold it back anymore. Before he went too far you grabbed his shirt and pressed your lips against it.

You sighed, letting yourself feel the emotions that tickled your body, while you melted into her lips. Everything around you stopped making sense and nothing mattered other than savoring his kisses, you didn't care that he was your teacher or that someone could come in and see them, or the only thing you could keep in your mind was the shape of his lips.

You were so dizzy from his kisses that you didn't realize the moment his hands ran down your body to your waist. They both immersed themselves in a deeper kiss, letting their tongues get to know each other. You allowed yourself to tangle your fingers in her hair while holding your breath, thinking that this way the moment would last forever. You tried to memorize each of his kisses, each of his caresses on your waist and before you knew it he withdrew, cutting off the moment.

For the first time you saw his eyes and your brain reacted to what just happened. You covered your lips and stepped back a little embarrassed, you thought about saying something but the words weren't enough for the regret you were starting to feel.

"I'm sorry…"

"No" you saw him approach again and he grabbed your chin making your body start to shake again "do you know how long I held back from doing that?" you denied automatically, analyzing his words "every time you looked at me like that it made me want to take you in front of everyone" his fingers contoured your lips and you opened your mouth instinctively to suck one "but now that I've tried a little I won't be able to stop until devour you."

His hand went down to your neck, cutting your breath a little and without noticing it, he made a soft moan from you. Hyunjin was fighting with himself not to lose control, but he couldn't take it anymore, he needed to take you on his desk or he would die.

His lips collided aggressively with yours and his hands grabbed the hem of your shirt to remove it. You let yourself be carried away by the sensations and you let him kiss your collarbones and massage your breasts while you covered your mouth so as not to moan. His kisses trailed down to your abdomen and he paused a little to unbutton your pants, but you didn't let him do it because you wanted to do something first.

You took courage and held his face to stop him, you kissed him while your hands explored the material of his shirt as you undid his buttons. You reached his pants and without stopping to think you unbuttoned them, feeling his trapped erection. Your kisses traced a path across her chest and you heard how she let out small sighs while she realized where you wanted to go.

When you were on your knees in front of his still wrapped cock you looked up at him only to smile at him as you pulled down her boxers. He caressed your head in approval and you watched the tip of him dripping, savoring the flavor, you moved closer to paint your lips with his essence. Hyunjin moaned when he saw the intentions in your eyes and grabbed your hair so you could open your mouth once and for all.

You began to introduce his member little by little, trying to get used to it, but he didn't give you time and began to move his hips, making everything go into your mouth. You had imagined this for a long time and didn't believe it was happening, but the sensations in your wet core let you know it wasn't a dream.

You held his thighs with your nails but you enjoyed the mere way he moved and since he was still in control, you looked up recording the expression on his face. His eyebrows furrowed, his mouth open releasing curses and his eyes locked on yours at all times.

"You like this right?" He stopped and let you breathe a little. You nodded still with his member in your mouth "is this what you had in that little head?" You sucked on his member in response and he moaned in response. He pulled your hair back, leaving only the tip on your tongue to see how it painted. You savored what he gave you and moaned as you felt the tension in your core. You squeezed your legs together looking for some friction and Hyunjin noticed.

He lifted you up and cleaned your mouth, he imprisoned you in the middle of the desk and his body at the same time that his hands reached your clothed center. You squirmed a little when you noticed him but his movements were slow.

"Tell me what else have you imagined?" He whispered into your neck, leaving the mark of his teeth.

"I…only you."

"Tell me the truth" another bite on your skin made you squeal "I will fulfill each and every one of your fantasies pretty girl, you just have to tell me."

You pursed your lips trying to remember something, but his teeth and his caresses on your center were stealing all your attention and you couldn't concentrate.

"I…imagined that…you were fucking me on your desk, that you were holding my hands while you kissed my back."

With quick movements he made you stand in front of his desk with your back to him. He kisses your neck, getting rid of your bra and all your clothes, leaving you completely naked. You felt his cock on your butt as he came over to bend you over his desk while he grabbed your hands behind your waist. You couldn't help but moan when you realized how you were, you opened your eyes only to realize that you were on top of all the drawings you had made, each and every one of them represented your fantasies, but now they were coming true.

You were about to say something, when his fingers touched your sensitive pussy, drowning out your words. Your legs closed instinctively but he interrupted you by placing his own in the middle. He began to massage your clit and you arched your back a little trying to release the sensations in your chest. He was torturing you by going very slowly, but he just wanted to tease you and make you say your name.

His fingers explored your entire core and then he introduced two of them, making you let out a louder moan that echoed throughout the room. You couldn't move much because of the restrictions on your body but that somehow made you feel better. Notice how you could only accept the excitement and nothing else, but that was starting to go on for too long and made you desperate trying to let go to find release.

Hyunjin was more ready to end this, but he was turned on by the way that no matter how much you struggled, you couldn't do anything but moan, but no matter how much he could continue torturing you for hours, he knew that they weren't in the right place to do it.

He removed his fingers from inside you and lined up his cock to replace it. Without letting go of your hands behind your back, he engraved the silhouette of your body on the papers and since it had been stained a little by the charcoal, you were a work of art in his eyes and now that he had you in front of him, he would use your skin as his canvas and his kisses and caresses would be his brush, he would make clear what his mark was.

He introduced his member slowly, feeling how you squeezed him and recording the sound of your voice in his mind. He leaned over your back to have a better position and started to move, he moved your hair back to kiss you and mark your neck. Your moans were better up close, so he quickened his pace to hear you.

Feeling the heat of his body on yours made you lose your mind, his kisses on your back and the movement of his hips colliding with yours made you pray that it would never end, but your body couldn't take it anymore. You noticed how your legs were shaking, your hands were clenching, your insides were tightening more and more and how your stomach was contracting.

Your head was spinning and you couldn't handle all the emotions, it wasn't working properly having your teacher fucking you like you had always imagined, it was all too much and your moans were just the proof of it all.

"Come on pretty girl, I know you're close," you heard Hyunjin say as he increased the pace even more, "let me feel you."

His words seemed to be what was missing for you to release everything you could no longer contain. You felt your body tense for a moment and in a second you sighed, letting yourself be carried away by the release in your center. You moaned his name over and over again as he continued hitting your insides seeking his own release and a few seconds later you only noticed the hot liquid spilling down your legs.

He withdrew a little to free your hands and lay on your back again, leaving kisses and caressing your hair.

"You have done very well, now you can rest."

You closed your eyes processing everything that had just happened, but before you finished you felt the absence of heat. You were dazed and tired but you stood up slowly thinking about the consequences. When you turned around you found Hyunjin with a tissue in his hand, without saying anything he approached you and helped you clean yourself. Still a little sensitive, you held onto his shoulders but without looking at his face.

They didn't say a word while they were getting dressed and before taking your things he finally spoke.

“We shouldn’t have done this,” you hung your head, knowing he was right.

"I know, it's my fault," you said, releasing the burden you had been carrying for some time now, "but I couldn't help but fall in love and now I involved you in this, I understand if you don't want to see me again, I will drop out of class and I promise that You will never see me again, it was all my fault.

"what are you taking about?" Hyunjin grabbed you by the waist and you stayed still when you had him so close again. "You don't even know what I feel, why do you assume that I don't want to see you again?"

"But…"

"Shhh, we'll talk about that later, okay?" A little dazed and excited, you nodded, looking away from him. "Why don't we go home? I think I'll have to teach you to look at my face when I talk to you."

You smiled nervously as you hugged him, letting this moment remain in your memory to capture later.

Here is the link to pt.2

[shaarlslec]

me and the devil

words: 2769

part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

warnings/notes: charles leclerc x reader, none for now; i've been gone but now i am back and i am trying to get back into writing, this is only an introduction to help me get back on track;

inspired by: Soap&Skin - Me And The Devil, The Neighborhood - Afraid, The Academic - Why Can’t We Be Friends?, lovelytheband - i like the way, The Wombats - Turn , Wallows - Pleaser

masterlist

You have been friends before being teammates, each developing what seemed to be crushes on the other during that time. Then, you helped him achieving what he had always craved the most by playing the good cop of the game – and now you were turning on him. 

Two championships in the bag since the 2024 season, Charles Leclerc was now fighting for the third one. Flued by the mistakes and wrongdoings of his team and his alone, Charles changed the game, and he was not planning to stop anytime soon. He had to win, he had to be the best that there ever was – and winning two championships represented the beginning of his legacy. 

Charles had realized three seasons ago that the good old ways of listening and submitting to his team’s orders was not working anymore for him and his goals. Trusting them with his whole heart that they have a plan for him somewhere soon in the future neither. 

First season since the attitude adjustment brought him the second place in the Championship miles away from third place, and the other two the winning title bringing the Italian team back on top, instituting dominance back on the grid. How that managed to happen, everybody wondered when the answer was rather smile – Charles Leclerc was done being nice, obedient, and sweet.

The Monegasque flicked a switch, decided not to follow Xavi’s words all the time over the radio and stopped the hope tap, instead Charles began staying up late every single evening after a race with the engineers and strategists to plan the best way to fetch the next win, not letting them move a finger without him knowing. The entirety of Charles’ life outside and inside the track was Formula 1, not even bothering to afford leisure time anymore, hours and hours of training, testing, and manhandling. 

Starving for the win every time when he passed Max or Lewis, never switching positions with his teammate if asked too and sarcastically apologizing for any accident he had provoked due to his now very risky driving – no matter the drivers who were involved. That is what Charles had to do to put his team back on top, and to stop the laughs coming from his haters. Failures can make a man turn bad, and it has turned Charles Leclerc for good. 

Ferrari minded at first, but after seeing how a good guy turned bad can win them races, can win them points, can cash for them, and put them back at top, the comments towards him from the team had stopped. No matter how harsh Charles replied to interviewers and no matter how much fuss he was making over the radio – they let him rule. 

You were bothered by that to an extend that those sleepless nights that Leclerc had in the garage were your own too – figuring a way to beat him at his own game as his teammate. Yes, the truth was that Charles Leclerc could have not done it without you, without his sweet lieutenant: the one who agreed on being Ferrari’s second driver and forever little helper for Charles Leclerc to shine. 

You took Ferrari’s seat two years ago, and the timing could have not been more unfortunate for you to take your shot at one of the bigger teams after rookie years of switching seats in between midfield ones. You were proud to be one of their drivers as everyone dreaming of racing could have been, and it was meaningless to say that part of the excitement of sharing spots with Charles was highly impacted by your undying little crush on him since you were just a junior. 

Those feelings of admiration, marvel and curiosity swiftly turned into resentment throughout the two years. Oh, what complications your feelings for Charles were. In the same fashion, what complications you joining the team was for Charles. He knew you, and no in the way the others knew you – but in the way of him being your mentor throughout the years. He had always been talented, and you caught his drift from earlier on watching him climb the ladder as you followed in his steps.

You followed him around when you could, being five years younger than him and not attending the same tracks and leagues as him made it complicated to do so – and yet, you managed. Charles saw something in you too, although you two were not exactly from the same generation – he took his time before F1 races to watch you drive in your F2 ones and watch closely if you were taking his advice. He liked to think about you as somewhat an investment, but what do you do when you start to find your investment as something so much more?

The little protégé turned into the protector, having Charles’ back anytime he needed, changing positions with him every single time when asked, putting him ahead of you all the time for the sake of the team for two whole years. Your mentor-mentee relationship changed since you two were now teammates, and when you were not faking it for the sake of PR and Ferrari’s imagine – you were playing catching mouse most of the time. You obeyed for the first two years, and yet you were the first one to be feed up about Charles Leclerc’s villainous attitude that got him winning championships in the first place. Therefore, you were becoming a threat now although people in the time were already talking about your shift – Charles Leclerc was the first one to feel it. 

“I am pretty sure I am faster than him.” You spoke quite calmly to your race engineer hitting the DTS zone while being 0.782 seconds behind P1 that Leclerc hardly managed to keep due to his tire degradation, “I am not waiting for your approval, I am passing him.” You declared, fingers almost crushing on the steering wheel. 

“No, no, Y/N. Do not pass him, I repeat – do not pass Charles.”

If you could have rolled your eyes at the engineer, you would have done it in the most annoyed ways he had ever seen a woman disgusted by his words ever in his life. Instead, you keep your calm and speeded. Leclerc was not the only driver that was not listening to his team, you were not either – he thought you that through his actions, right? Well, Charles taught you most things you know about how to race for Ferrari.

It was never easy to pass Leclerc, especially this season since Ferrari managed their best to produce a car according to his driving style (jokes were on him in that matter, since you have been mimicking his driving style since you were fourteen). And yet, through the ten races this season had so far you quite enjoyed every single battle on track with your teammate. Full concentration on, you battled Charles for almost one full lap teasing him enough for his tires to almost fail completely and for your entire body to ache at every single taking of a risky turn wheel to wheel with him. 

Fans were in awe; Fred and the whole team were at the edge of their seats with hands clasped praying you two will not crash like you did during the season’s last race (causing your car to be retracted), and as you passed Charles and maintained the ten last laps ahead of your teammate with a teensy half of a second gap or even less you knew that everyone was going to talk about how you stole P1 from Leclerc for the third time this season. Also, you knew how Leclerc’s reaction was going to look like in front of the others. Calm, restricted and with a congratulatory smile all over his pretty damn face. Fuck, it would have been easier for everyone (especially for you) if Charles were not to have such a pretty damn face. 

“You needed to be stubborn, weren’t you?” Charles spoke as soon as your helmets were off and you were waiting your turn to hop on the podium after Max claimed the third spot, making sure that you two were the only ones hearing his words. 

“You need to stop acting like a prick, don’t you?” You returned the comment making him room to pass you, “Go on now Leclerc, claim your second.” You dared to mock even further, blood boiling inside Charles’ insides as his dreadful glare pierced you with the additional shake of head and a corny smirk sprung on his face. 

That was usually how many of your conversations with Charles went lately, sarcastic comments and calling each other on your surnames, faking the coldness of what was a made-up reality in between the two of you. In that type of a reality – you two hated each other when, in fact – you were drowning until the pits of hell together not in heathered but in a form of lustful longing and yearning Dante wrote about.  

It was useless to say that your relationship was a twisted complicated one. You have been friends before being teammates, each developing what seemed to be crushes on the other during that time. Then, you helped him achieving what he had always craved the most by playing the good cop of the game – and now you were turning on him. Oh, more than acquaintances, less than friends and under many circumstances craving to be lovers. 

The evening after the race called for a huge party thrown into your honor and the 1-2 finish for the team, and the timing could not have been more perfect as that was the last race before the summer break. You needed this, you deserved the win – and you were going to celebrate with everyone who wanted to do so. All the drivers were invited, Charles Leclerc included. Most of you knew that he will not came. Charles had missed most of the parties in the past two years, even though most of them were thrown for him.  

“He is going too far with his World Champion vibe.” Norris spoke as the group you were with at the bar were talking about the bet that has been placed at the beginning of every party in the last year or so: will the champ come? 

You slightly sighed, your bid for tonight was “no” no matter how much you would have wanted him to truly celebrate with you your win. You took one of the shots that were placed across the bar and drowned it whole. That’s it Y/N, you have to abandon the idea that he still finds you likeable. 

Shaking your head due to the high percentage of alcohol you found burning your mouth, you turned to Norris and gave him frowned look, “You always choose the most grotesque shots to start the night with.” You added, napkin now glued to your lips. 

Norris’ eyebrows cockily twitched up, “Wait until you see the other that I have plan—” Norris begun to speak but shut his mouth tersely as his eyes went behind your shoulders fixing them on whatever he saw that made him grunt, “Oh fuck – losing all my money again just because of him.” Norris muttered, eyes rolling as well. 

Your heart sunk the moment Norris’ finished, Charles was right behind you. You could have caught that judging by what Norris just said, and yet what gave it away was the scent of that one Prada perfume you knew too well. Looking over your shoulder, your glare fixed Leclerc who was already looking right back at you. Besides sarcastic and bitter comments, excruciating long enduring stares was one of your things too. Perhaps they meant something more than just seeing who is winning at the game of asserting dominance, something in between the lines of “I want to touch you, and yet I am afraid I might get burned.” 

“Don’t give her too many shots – she gets drunk easy.” He commented, and of course the very first thing your teammate said in a mass of people was about you. 

“I don’t.” You childishly replied without breaking the eye-contact, knowing very well yourself that your alcohol tolerance was not something you could show off like you do with your driving skills. 

Leclerc let a short amused chuckled escape from between his lips, “Let’s agree to disagree.” He then added, taking a shot as well after quitting in fixing your glare with his – you won this time too.  

“That is all you two have been doing since the beginning of the season, aren’t you bored yet?” Russell interviewed with a swift move inside the party, patting your shoulder and gently taking you into a warm embrace, “Congrats darling, awesome drive today!” He then added, joining Leclerc for shots but not before he metaphorically turned the knife inside his friend, “I wish I could say the same about you too, Charles.” 

You mimicked an embarrassed smile watching Leclerc giving George a side-eye, “Thank you, George.” You added, not missing on the chance of mocking Charles together with him, “You did your best, don’t mind George.” You bittersweetly spoke, Leclerc placing the empty shot glass back on the bar and giving you one of his signatures shake of disapproval accompanied by a short silence before a scornful comment. 

“Since when does George Russell call you darling?” Leclerc then asked, watching George and Norris make their duty in finding homes for the remining shots made of the other drivers’ hands. 

Your shoulders shrugged, “I guess it is a British thing.” You shortly laughed, “And since when do you care how other drivers call me?” You wondered, catching yourself too comfortable to really laugh in presence of Leclerc without the laughs being results of sarcastic comments exchanged in between the two of you. 

Leclerc’s eyes widened for a short while as he found himself a contented position next to you, who were sitting on a high-bar chair making yourself stood a little taller to Charles’s side, with his elbow pressing the bar’s surface and his chin sustained in his palm, forearm fully into your sight now as well as his peering eyes on yours again. To add to this whole thing, Charles’ other hand wrapped its fingers on the edges of the chair you stood in.

Inches away from each other while the others were taking their seats at the woodened table at your left next to the bar waiting for the food, you two felt like you were alone in the whole entire restaurant – just as you feel when your cars are creeps away on the track.   

“I don’t.” Charles replied, fingers gripping on the chair even tighter – sign that Leclerc actually did care on whatever appellatives others used for you when you two only permitted surnames in between the two of you, “We need to talk about today.” He then voiced and you could feel your heart sinking right into your stomach. 

“We don’t.” You added, getting down from your seat with a hasty move that meant being trapped in between the chair and Leclerc for a brief second before he took two steps back, almost as if he was careful of your bodies not to accidentally collide, “I have nothing to say to you – I was faster and I passed.” You smiled right back at him, “Sucks to be the second driver at Ferrari for the day, right?” You spoke looking over your shoulder as you made your way to the table next to the others. 

You left Charles hanging in there with no chance to reply. He breathed slowly, and after selfishly taking another shot from the bar, your teammate followed your steps towards the table but made sure to sit across from you. 

Hours passed, food was served and finished, drinks were aligned and tasted. You enjoyed celebrating your win, and you would have wished for the one standing across the table from you peering with those beautiful damn eyes catching yours from time to time analyzing them back, to celebrate it with you too. Yet, that was unheard off – Charles Leclerc was not celebrating other drivers’ wins anymore. 

You liked sweet Charles better than villain Leclerc, and you caught yourself thinking about this while Charles was exchanging shots with Pierre at the bar that evening laughing about unknown whispers coming from the French driver right at Charles’ ears.

In all loudness, Charles’ laughs echoed the most in your head and you would have been able to give up all your wins for him only if that guaranteed you that Charles that you knew back into your mentorship years could come back – that is how complicated being teammates with Charles Leclerc was for the moment, and how much more complicated it will become now that you were turning into the devil you were so afraid of walking with. 

[theresattrpgforthat]

It would be awesome if you could recommend some solo ttrpgs! I've been getting into them a lot lately and want to know more of what's out there. Especially journalling ones, as I enjoy creative writing. So far I've looked into (and will probably buy soon) Firelights, Apawthecaria, and Fox Curio's Floating Bookshop.

Also, I love this blog a ton. Already there have been some awesome games I've learned about from you, including the one you're currently working on. Excited to give it a try sometime! Keep being amazing 💜.

Theme: Solo Journalling Games

Thank you so much for your kind words! I'm certainly excited to run Protect the Child for folks, play-testing it so far has been really fun!

As for your ask, solo games and journalling go hand in hand. These next few games are just a sampling of what I've added recently to my Solo Games folder on Itch.

Cats Know Things, by Mushroom Witch Games.

CATS KNOW THINGS is a light-hearted game meant to tell a humorous story of intrigue, all while pretending to be a very nosy cat. 

But you are no ordinary cat.

You are a very special feline who, through some magic you cannot explain, can communicate with your human, an individual who wishes to make their mark in society by any means necessary. The two of you decide to start a society page, (a very fancy type of tabloid newspaper dedicated to a particular location) revealing the glitz, glamour, and inner turmoil of the town’s most notable individuals. 

Use a d6 and a d10 to generate numbers, and sneak into places to listen into secret or private conversations. Then bring this news to your human companion, so that they may relay this gossip in the local society page. You need to find 6-8 scintillating stories before the week is up, so that your human has enough to print.

If you want a game full of scandal and cute furry little rumour-mongers, this might be the game for you!

Lingering, by Meghan Cross.

The last thing you remember, you were dying.

Now, breath fills your lungs once more and your eyes open, slowly shifting side to side as you attempt to regain your bearings. You are alive. But you are…changed. Your human form is gone, and in its place is one that is different, foreign, animal…

In Lingering, you play as a person who has died, only to find yourself alive again in an animal form, unable to move on to your eternal rest until you settle business left unsettled from your life. 

Throughout the course of a game, you will make several attempts to communicate with a chosen human, hoping to convey a message to them so they can assist you and help you move on once and for all. 

This game uses a deck of cards and some guiding adjectives to determine how your attempts at communication will go. Over eight rounds, you’ll flip cards while guessing as to whether each card will be higher or lower than the previous one, and a successful guess means a successful interaction. The details of those attempts are what you’ll be journalling, and Lingering provides a number of questions that you might try to answer with each attempt.

This game takes place over eight rounds, so it’s excellent if you want a short, contained game. It also has a two-player option if you want to try this game out with a loved one.

Dragon Dowser, by HatchlingDM.

Dragon Dowser is a solo journaling RPG using the Carta SRD by Peach Garden Games. You play a mysterious character known as a 'Dowser'. Your aim is to locate abandoned dragon eggs and return them to your Sanctuary. If you succeed before expending your resources, the hatchling you rescue will be reared to change the kingdom forever! 

This is a lovingly crafted game that uses card suits to represent four different kinds of ways your character will be tested, as they interact with different cultures, explore new landscapes, and dea with various conflicts, both human and nature-made.

You’ll travel across a grid of cards that provide you with journaling prompts as you travel. You’ll expend resources to overcome obstacles, looking for a dragon egg, represented by an Ace! Once you return this egg to a sanctuary, you’ll journal about your experience of raising the hatchling. Based on the games you’ve mentioned so far, I think Dragon Dowser is right up your alley.

EDEN, by blasez-faire.

You are Judaiah Clark, the Head Botanical Researcher at the Southern Sector of Eden. You are here for exactly 10 days, and were a last minute choice after the sudden disappearance of ■■■■■■ ■■■■■, the last person to hold this position. You are not here for work. Investigate.

EDEN is a single-page game that takes place over the course of 10 in-game days, with two questions that you will have to answer in your journal for every day. You are expected to write up a report with detailed notes, so much of the extrapolation taken from each pair of questions is going to come from your own imagination. To help with this you might want to come up with names for other characters, draw a map of the Southern Sector, or go into detail about the plants that this research station grows.

One thing is for sure - this is going to be a horror story. If you like games that give you a lot of room to stretch your creative wings, and you also like writing terrible endings for your characters, you might like this game.

Black Mountain Numbers Station, by Simon de Vet.

You wake one morning to the sound of a voice on the radio reading a series of numbers. On impulse, you jot them down. These numbers will become your life.

Black Mountain Numbers Station is a one-page, solo-journaling game about a mysterious broadcast, and about finding patterns in randomness. Using a unique dice mechanic to prompt you to describe your journey, you will tell a short story of obsession, frustration, and discovery.

This game is uses a 6x6 grid with boxes that you’ll need to fill when you roll a pair of dice. You’ll trigger evens when you roll doubles or find a certain pattern on the grid as you fill it, and in both of these cases, you’ll write special journal entries. The game ends when you fill your Frustration track, which symbolizes listening for too long without learning anything new. What exactly you learn, however, is up to you.

Bound, by K Ramstack.

Bound is a single player setting agnostic game about the connection between two people as they travel to a destination through the destruction of the world on a journey they will most likely not complete.

You will create two characters, their relationship to one another, the destruction that haunts them, and the motive for them to move forward.

During the game, you will be asked to write scenes in first person, switching perspectives between characters, and using their personality traits and subjective conceptualizations of each other to answer prompts.

Bound has a single and two-player version, and uses two decks of playing cards, one for each character. Each card will relate to a prompt on the prompt table, but only the highest ranked prompt will be answered. Each prompt will ask a question about the relationship, and how it changes.

If you want a deeply emotional game with a beautiful layout and lovely art, this is the game for you.

The Narrator Paradox, by psychound.

The Narrator Paradox is a one page solo-narrating game where you try to tell a story … if your protagonist will let you. In it, you determine the five acts of your story based on an oracle, then make rolls for your plot beats to see if you can wrangle your protagonist into the prescribed narrative. If you can't, they defy you and take the story into their own hands. Wrestle the story into shape against a rebellious hero, or lose them forever and have to finish the story without them in it. 

Using the Major Arcana of a tarot deck, two six-sided dice and a coin, The Narrator Paradox has a number of different ways that you’ll try to keep your story on track. However, with so much randomness, your protagonist is sure to have a mind of their own. This feels very much in tune with how many writers talk about their characters as if those characters have their own desires, so if you’ve ever related to that you might enjoy this game.

Also Check Out...

My Solo Games tag! I use this tag for every recommendation post specifically for solo games.

[warabidakihime]

Rules and Roses Chapter 4

★ characters: kibutsuji muzan x reader x akaza

★ plot summary: Kibutsuji Muzan has finally decided to expand his empire, and the way he intends to do so is by running for the highest political position. With you, his darling wife, at his side, he believes he can achieve and have everything the world has to offer. He is, after all, the Phoenix of Phario.

★ fic playlist: sometimes, same day, as time stops, wolf’s song (this is also the vision board for the fic). 

★ content warnings : implied violence and abuse, profanities, toxic relationships, smut.

★ Previous Chapter

a/n:

hello!

just want to hop on here and say thank you to everyone who has been giving their likes and reblogs. huge thank you to those who are taking the time and effort to read my story as well. i've been wanting to continue this story for so long but i'm just so busy with work, but i'm glad i am able to find the time to write and update as regularly as i can.

hopefully someday i can hear your thoughts through your comments though haha i would really love to hear what you think about Rules and Roses and the way i write the characters as it is my first time. tbh, i am extra curious to know if i'm giving muzan's character justice HAHA but yeah, it never hurts to leave comments so feel free to send them my way.

i also would like to give those people who have not read the manga a heads up, that in this chapter and in the succeeding ones, there will be minor to moderate manga spoilers, so ready with caution.

also, moving forward, things will steadily pick up, so get ready HAHA!

enjoy reading everyone!

-

The sun had barely risen over Areswood, its golden hues taking its time enveloping the sky, but Muzan and Douma were already up and busy at Obelisk Kibutsuji, going over their next course of action for their campaigns for the next few months.

Muzan stood at the center of his spacious office. A large map of Phario's electoral districts sprawled across the narra table in front of him, dotted with colorful pins representing key areas of support. 

Douma, on the other hand, leaned over the map, his eyes narrowing as he assessed their next move. 

"We need to double down our efforts in the southern districts," Douma said, twirling his fan languidly. "The latest polls show we're losing ground there, but it is the opposition's home turf, so I'm not surprised," he added with a hint of mirth.

Muzan nodded, rubbing his temple as he processed the information. He'd been up since dawn, reviewing speeches and strategies. The weight of the campaign was beginning to show in the faint lines on his face and the dark circles under his ruby eyes.

Unlike Douma, Muzan couldn't afford to make light of the situation. Keeping a straight and serious face, he continued to rack his brain for strategies. After a few minutes, Muzan finally spoke, catching everyone's attention.

"Let's schedule a town hall meeting in Azudellin. We need to connect with the voters there and show them we're listening to their concerns."

"Today?" Douma asked.

"Yes, why? Do we have other agendas for today?"

Douma quickly checked his calendar on his phone.

"We have an interview with the Areswood Times in an hour, then a fundraiser lunch at noon, followed by debate prep, and a gala dinner with key donors tonight."

Muzan sighed, his frustration evident in his voice. "We can't afford to delay this. Azudellin is slipping away from us."

Douma, feeling a bit depleted himself, shrugged. "The earliest we can fit it in is next week. It might be too late by then, but who knows? Maybe a miracle will happen."

In the midst of a very important meeting, a knock separated everyone from their own thoughts. One of Muzan's executive assistants, Nakime, walked in with a stack of freshly printed leaflets, oblivious to the tension in the room.

"Sir Kibutsuji, Sir Hashibira, these just came in. The design team finalized the new posters and pamphlets for the campaign trail."

Muzan barely glanced at the leaflets, his mind racing. 

"Thank you; just leave them on the table."

Nakime quickly left after obeying his orders, clearly sensing the gravity of the moment.

With mindless eyes, Muzan continued to rack his brain for any backup plan or anything that could be of significant help to the predicament they currently have. Letting out a resigned sigh, Muzan finally opened his eyes and turned to everyone. 

"We'll have to make do with what we have," he said, turning to Douma, who's listening intently. "At our interview with Areswood Times today, maybe we could give Azudellin a special shout-out—say something that can please their ears. This is your specialty, so I leave this to you." 

Douma nodded, a peculiar smile present on his face. "I'll handle it. I'll make sure our message is loud and clear in the interview today."

Muzan merely nodded at his running mate before turning to the rest of his party. 

"Let's deploy a few of you to Azudellin today; get some boots on the ground. We'll organize smaller meet-and-greets throughout the week to keep our presence felt until we can hold the town hall altogether. Take this chance to highlight your own platforms and campaigns as well, but don't oversell yourselves and turn off the locals. Understand? We can't afford any missteps."

A chorus of 'yes, sir.' and 'understood' rang in the room after listening to Muzan's orders. As usual, his commanding voice and his overall demeanor exuded charisma and extreme strictness, which made everybody in the room yield to him so easily.

Muzan scanned the room, making sure everyone's conviction matched his own. Technically, his party has been dominating almost all polls across the entire country, and it's safe to say that he is the number one candidate to win the elections, but he didn't want to remain complacent.

He doesn't want to attribute his victories to silly things like fate or destiny. He did that before and miserably paid the price; after learning his lesson, he vowed to never rely on foolish things ever again and will do everything in his power to ensure his indisputable victory.

Taking a deep breath, Muzan felt assured again. 

"Alright. This meeting is adjourned. Thank you, everyone."

*

"Oh, really? That's good to hear, darling. I'm happy for you," Muzan said softly, followed by a fond chuckle as you continued to share what happened during your hair appointment.

You were at the salon, enjoying your usual 'pamper time.' While you were getting your hair done, an A-list celebrity approached you. Initially, she only intended to have a small chat, as you are technically an A-list celebrity yourself. However, as your conversation continued, Ume confided in you that she recently got engaged but hasn't announced it to the public yet.

She personally requested you to be her wedding planner, and of course, you gladly accepted.

"Ahh! I'm so excited. I'm still preoccupied with Ms. Rivera's wedding, but so many ideas for Ms. Ume's wedding are already flooding my mind," you told your husband gleefully.

Muzan chuckled again, his eyes turning into crescent moons as a smile spread across his face, a total contrast to the serious expressions he had earlier.

Muzan prided himself on being level headed even in the most dire situations, but all that bravado would always melt away whenever he was with you. He couldn't help it. Your energy has always been contagious, and when it came to you, he was nothing but a man hopelessly in love with his wife.

Douma, seated in the backseat with Muzan, looked at his running mate with pure intrigue, watching him transform into a lovesick puppy while talking to you.

"Ah, yes, the meeting went great, my love. There were a few bumps here and there, but we managed," Muzan said to you. Knowing you, he anticipated your worry and was proven right when he heard the concern in your voice.

"I see... well, if there's anything I can do to help you guys, you know I'd be more than willing," you said from the other line.

Muzan smiled softly, clearly touched by your investment in his endeavors as much as he was in yours.

"Well, if you're free next week, you can tag along to our town hall at Azudellin," he proposed.

You smiled, having left the salon and decided to go to the mall for some much-needed retail therapy. Akaza wasn't with you today, as he had something to take care of, so Gyokko, one of your security guards, was accompanying you today.

"I don't have anything planned next week. I don't mind joining—wait, can I also do my own charity event there? I haven't done one in a while, and don't you think this is the perfect time? It could help your campaign."

Muzan immediately smiled at this. "You're more than welcome, darling. I'll have my people assist you with your preparations. Just let me know what help you need."

"Aww, you don't have to! But thank you. Let's talk more about this at home later. Maybe we could tailor this with your own community outreach initiatives. I believe you have a couple, right? We can make it a joint one, hitting two birds with one stone."

Muzan was listening intently when Douma reached out to let him know they had reached their destination. Muzan gave him a curt nod before returning to you.

"That's right. Alright, let's talk about it later, Y/N. I need to go; Douma and I are here at the studio already. Take care on your way home, okay? Call me if you need anything."

You nodded with a happy smile on your face. "Okay. See you later, my love. And good luck today. I love you," you said with passion.

Muzan replied just as passionately, "I love you too. Mhm, yes. Goodbye. See you later."

After ending the call, he turned to Douma; his whole demeanor had already changed. "Let's go."

Douma complied, climbing out of the car after him.

As they walked inside the building and toward their dressing room, escorted by a handful of media staff, the vice presidential candidate subtly nudged his running mate.

"It seems like that phone call improved your mood, Pres ."

Muzan smirked, his strides toward the TV studio exuding confidence and pride. "My first lady is quite the wonder woman."

Douma chuckled softly, amused by Muzan's demeanor. "It seems like she has quite an effect on you."

"She does," Muzan replied, his tone unapologetically confident. "She's not just my wife; she's a force to be reckoned with and my equal."

Douma raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Muzan's unabashed praise. "You sound almost unbeatable when she's on your side."

Muzan merely nodded, the cocky smile on his face still present. "Indomitable."

Douma chuckled softly. "You've really got it bad, haven't you?"

Muzan shot him a sidelong glance, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Do you not feel the same about Shinobu?"

Douma chuckled again. "Hey now, don't underestimate me. My wife is a force of nature herself."

The proud CEO of Obelisk Kibutsuji and Phario's leading presidential candidate simply offered his running mate a rather shallow chuckle as a response and a nod to convey that he agrees with him.

Finally, they reached the TV studio, and the two of them noticed that it was a full house.

"Are you ready?" Douma asked Muzan.

Muzan's gaze swept across the room, his presence commanding attention.

With a confident smirk, he declared,

"To make history? I was born ready.'"

He made his way to the stage, greeted by applause and camera flashes, projecting an aura of assured victory as he took his seat on the couch.

*

The day was finally coming to a close. After spending the entire day at the mall shopping, you were exhausted and hungry.

Initially considering Italian cuisine, it suddenly occurred to you that the downtown burger joint you and Akaza had visited a couple of days ago was nearby.

Opting for convenience and familiarity, you decided to head there and also decided to order takeout for both Akaza and Muzan, as well as Kokushibo and the maids and guards.

Surely, both had returned home by now or were on their way. Muzan's jam-packed schedule guaranteed he would appreciate indulging in fast food after such a long day, and Akaza would undoubtedly welcome the gesture.

And it wouldn't hurt to treat your house staff every now and then. It is something you do every now and then, as it's one of your ways of showing appreciation for the services they provide you.

For Muzan, you chose to order the same as yourself, knowing he preferred healthier options but trusting he would enjoy something you approved.

You already ordered Gyokko to prepare the car, so when your orders are ready, you can just hop in and make a beeline home. As you waited at the counter, you hummed to yourself, glancing around the familiar surroundings of the burger joint.

Once again, a sense of déjà vu struck you, from when you entered earlier and throughout your stay. It's honestly starting to worry you.

"It's nice to see you around here again, my dear."

You turned to the voice—a kindly old lady. "Excuse me?" you asked politely.

The old lady smiled warmly. "It's been quite a while since your last visit."

"Oh, I've been busy these past few days," you replied with a smile. "I really enjoyed my first time here last week."

Confusion crossed the old lady's face at your response.

"Aren't you one of our regulars?"

You frowned, puzzled. "I'm not sure I understand..."

"You've been coming here for years , haven't you? Or am I mistaken?"

Your unease grew visible. "I'm sorry, but I think you have me confused with someone else."

Before you could finish, the old lady turned and retrieved a photo from the wall behind her, returning to you with a smile.

"This is you and your fiancé, right?"

She handed you the photo.

In it, Akaza had his arms around your waist, both of you beaming happily.

Your eyes widen in sheer shock.

"What..."

Turning the photo over, you saw a note scribbled on it:

Hakuji Soyama x L/N Y/N - Just got engaged! (03/03/2015)

-

taglist: @bffrrufr @unadulteratedhandsbanditdreamer @unlikelybananawerewolf

[nebula-remnants]

who wants to hear me ramble About a dca au? of course you do

so quick warning it's a sun x moon au/fic in the works. mainly doing this because I need to brainworms OUTTTT so I can temporarily focus on another sun x moon fic I'm working on with my buddy, @alynwrench.

(tiny tid bit from my current rough draft just as a showoff)

"Nonetheless, Show me your thorns, I'll show mine. I can’t promise I'll acknowledge the sharpness of mine nor the way your body withers and spreads its infection. We’ll embrace and till the end of our time we’ll slowly pierce through one another without taking the time to understand why. What starts as a harmless prick will grow until it’s too late to pull apart, too late to take any of it back."

Long have I been absolutely obsessed with psychology and accurately representing different sides to it. this has eventually lead me to where I am now, making a giant ass fic about a silly comfort ship. I've seen the ship interpreted all sorts of ways but when I look at them I see two stubborn and opposing characters that conflict so harshly yet hold the potential to be something truly loving if in the right environment. (COUGH this au is gonna have a lot of angst...)

this Au is going to cover serious topics, and keep a heavy focus on the psychological aspects and needs of a relationship, especially when trauma is introduced. Things are going to get MESSY, but I hope to end it off nicely when the time comes. (to be even more obvious I plan for this to be major hurt/comfort. I won't torture you guys FOREVER, there will be a happy ending. I at least hope that INTERESTS A FEW PEOPLE)

is it gonna stray from canon severely? yeah, but over time i've learned not to care as much. it's fanon made content, all of it strays from canon interpretation in some form. I know I got people's hopes up in the past, but I truly find myself in the middle ground of being obsessed with either side. All I hope is that I represent their personalities accurately enough in a way people can agree, even if it's in a completely different context.

I hope when I finally have everything together and I can share more about it. I kind of wanted whatever I said about this project to be better put together but I guess it's not time for an official introduction yet. I will say to anyone that read this far thank u for listening to me yap teehee, I'm getting really close with a draft I feel like I can finalize. i've been, very critical about this project your honor.

[mrradmccoolman]

hello everynyan!! it's baby's second (?) tumblr post. i present to you:

ELLIOTT'S ANDERPERRY SONG ANALYSIS

okay, so, here's the gist of it: i have an ever-growing playlist on spotify of songs i feel fit neil, todd, or their relationship as a whole. each song is not only one i like, but also has lyrics that represent something specific about them. this sort of thing is something ive done for multiple characters for a long time, and ive always had carefully curated reasons behind my choices. i just recently got back into the dps fandom, and thought this would be a good way to not only show how i see the characters, but also become a part of the community on Tumblr myself :)

i will not be doing every song simply because i do not have the time and the playlist is way too long for that, but i'll definitely be choosing some favorites. i'll most likely just post whenever i feel like it, so i can't promise any sort of a timeline. this is just a little project i thought would be fun, especially considering the fics im working on take me ages lol 😅

sooo without further ado: song number one is....

Habanero by Rosie Tucker

i've been listening to a lot of rosie tucker's music lately, and this song really stood out to me as a todd/neil song from neil's perspective. one of the reasons i connect so much to neil as a character is because i see myself in him, and subsequently how he handles what i see as a very real depressive disorder throughout the movie. this song makes me think of his feelings and relationship with todd in canon, how he sees himself and todd, and the bittersweet-ness of loving someone in the "wrong" way.

"...you said "this never happens to me, this never happens" but you smile while you suffer so you're lying or wrong" this lyric encapsulates a big part of neil's perception of todd, especially towards the beginning of the movie. it specifically reminds me of the "what do you mean no?" scene and the argument they have leading up to it. it also alludes to todd's poem scene in front of the class and neil's reaction to it. he sees todd as saying this sort of bewildered, in awe, "this never happens to me," because, well, for todd, that's how it feels. he doesn't speak in front of people, he doesn't share parts of himself like that. i actually believe he didn't even really write poetry on his own before keating's class, either, so even writing at all is a big step for him- never mind showing others. we know todd hates public speaking and being perceived (although it's a lot more complicated than that, but i won't get into it here) so he "smiles while (he) suffers" because even though this is something he hates and feels so much shame about, a part of him is amazed and happy he did it at all. thus the "you're lying or wrong" from neil- i see this as neil recognizing that actually, knowing todd, this isn't the first time he's done something like this like he might think. in truth, todd says and does beautiful things like this all the time. though todd sees himself as dull and embarassing, neil sees the truth. we often think of neil as recognizing todd as a diamond in the rough, but people are more complicated than that. really, todd has always had this beauty inside him- this is just the first time he (and everyone else) has gotten the opportunity to really see it. neil feels vindicated in a sense, because he knew it was there.

"i'm never happy, but i've never been better" i feel this lyric is pretty straightforward when it comes to neil. he has depression, which makes it so so hard to feel happy, even when you think you should- and most of the time, neil doesn't even have those moments. todd isn't some cure-all for his problems, and certainly doesn't make his depression go away, but he's a huge aid to neil. he's the one person who really sees him. even if neil still isn't happy in the traditional way, he still feels better around todd. another thing i could get into buttt this post is already gonna be long enough as is lol.

"i need to see you sweat" i feel this one is also pretty self explanatory. it's sexuality and desire, something neil has likely not felt to this level before. especially when you're depressed, it's hard to feel any sort of desire. i feel that any thoughts neil would have would already be pretty vague because of his internalized homophobia, but this would be similar to the way he would allow himself to verbalize his feelings. there are a lot of great fics out there that i feel really encapsulate this well.

"wouldn't we be perfect together if we wanted exactly the same thing?" i would argue that the majority of the fandom kind of accepts neil's feelings for todd as pretty obviously requited, even though interestingly enough, from an outside perspective i would actually argue neil's feelings are the most obviously canon. not that i don't definitely believe todd feels the same, nor do i think this is a bad thing- it's just that the entire movie revolves around identity, and neil's passion for acting serves as a metaphor for queerness pretty obviously, and beyond that acting is associated with queer identity as a whole, another reason behind mr. perry's aversion to it. neil doesn't know if todd feels the same as he does. even if things may seem obvious to us, this isn't "normal" for the time period and so i believe wholeheartedly that neil didn't know todd had any feelings for him. was this more his own self hatred, him protecting himself, or that anything he saw that may have alluded to reciprocation he convinced himself was his own mind playing tricks on him? probably a mixture of all three.

"but i smile while i suffer like a sucker supreme" even though neil knows this won't end well, that his feelings are "wrong" and this is hurting him in the long run, he can't help himself when it comes to todd. he's a sucker for him and the feelings he gets being around him.

"all at once i'm a child trapping tadpoles in a cup, and i know they'll never make it (...) but i smile while they suffer 'cause i want it so much" neil knows being in the play, being with todd, and defying his father is a losing game. he knows, on a distant level, that he'll never get away with it. maybe during the play he finally, for one gorgeous moment, truly believed things would change- but then his father shows up and proves he was right all along. he knows he's doomed, that todd was right to doubt his plan to lie to his father in the first place, but he wants it so badly he doesn't care (or, more than that, he feels so incredibly trapped that he's given up and has resigned himself to the consequences). not only this, but his depression has made his latching onto the one thing that gives him hope even more intense. to be ripped away from this, the only thing he's ever wanted- the only person he's ever wanted- is the end. he knows that. even so, even though he can see the futility of it all crumbling beneath him, he sees the fall through.

"i can't believe i'll die before becoming a frog" there's a sort of disbelief in his resignation to death in his final moments, a darkly humorous "i can't believe it's come to this, that this is really happening" despite not really being surprised. neil is cutting everything short and throwing away his potential before his father gets the chance to do it for him. he'll never "become a frog" in so many ways- never get to live for himself, never get to become an adult, never get to act again, etc.

well...that was very long! if you've made it to the end of this post, i hope this was as fun for you as it was for me :)) i'll definitely be doing more of these as time goes on!! let me know your thoughts!!

(the playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3Fh97W8EItmoJHjQvjsBl4?si=WoH7J5GHTfmt3v7OuqbHnQ&pi=6x2g03n8Q1Knc )

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