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theaquamarinearchives · 3 days

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[ the frontlines ― gepard ] "if only you saw things the way i see things, perhaps this situation would be different." cw. fluff, slightly hurt/comfort, childhood friends to lovers, gepard being naive and not noticing reader's crush, use of y/n, includes an argument // 2.6k words

aquamarine's findings. this was the first time i ever wrote for gepard !! this is a repost from my old blog since i'm moving all my works over onto this blog !!

the snow is less than comforting for the captain of the silvermane guards. GEPARD is no stranger to it though. he is undeniably used to the raw chill of the eternal freeze, his nose flushed a subtle hue of red to match his cheeks. snowflakes catch on his eyelashes and despite his attempts, his teeth still chatter when none of his subordinates are looking.

after all, it'd be awkward for them to see their captain struggling so nonchalantly with the cold, wouldn't it? as a landau, he couldn't bear to even consider the thought of being humiliated like that. he could handle the cold just fine, as long as he kept telling himself that then it'd be the only truth jarilo-vi would know.

except it wouldn't be the only truth. gepard knows that very well when his eyes meet yours over a cup of coffee at the goethe hotel in the administrative district. he's here on behalf of the supreme guardian doubling security for an event but he can't pass up a chance to see his childhood friend, no way.

you're not dumb - you most certainly have never been in his eyes - and you're one of his longest friends, hailing from another noble family in belobog. gepard faintly remembers you tinkering with mechanisms with his older sister as a young child and even more so the secret adventures you'd take lynx on while she was still a toddler - ones you thought nobody knew about. you were fairly convinced you'd been sneaky enough but at that age, lynx couldn't keep a secret to save her life.

you've drank in the way he reacts to the cold so much over the past years, it almost humours you that he's never truly adapted to it. you were born during this eternal freeze and it's all you've ever known but even underneath all his armour and layers, gepard hates it. he spends almost every waking second of his day in the cold, watching snowflakes dance through the air in an alluring dance that mesmerises him when he gets a five minute break from his duties.

"maybe i should buy you a scarf," you chide as you raise the steaming hot mug to your lips, sipping at the liquid that warms your body. gepard notes that your lips have always been soft despite the harsh cold, you've always taken care of them well, "there's enough skin showing on your neck to please a vampire."

gepard scoffs at your words, rolling his eyes as he leans back in the chair nonchalantly. his upper arms rest on the arms of the chair, one of his legs stretched out under the table as he finally relaxes a little; even if it's just for a moment. your presence has always had that effect on him. he's not the captain of the silvermane guards when he's with you - he's just gepard, that's all he'll ever be.

"vampires, really y/n?" the blond's lips pull into a tight line and you can't help but snicker at how serious the middle child of the landau family could be, "i don't need a scarf."

"sure thing, you wouldn't know until christmas..." the look that gepard is glaring in your direction makes your voice trail off, a light giggle escaping your lips as you raise your hands in a surrender, shaking your head. gepard sometimes wonders how the two of you bonded as children. you were much closer to his two sisters; serval would always steal you to show you what she'd been fiddling with when the two of you were tucked away, children's books seated on your laps and woven scarves wrapped around your necks - the very ones you'd been hinting at just now.

even as lynx grew older, you were commonly found red-handed trying to sneak out of belobog together. the two of you would grumble as serval and gepard pinched your ears, tugging you back to the landau family's manor as they scolded you - specifically you though, they were all too familiar with the concept that you was the mastermind behind the adventures.

gepard sometimes wishes he knew what pulled the two of you together like an invisible thread, some kind of magnetic reaction that neither of you could stop. despite the differences and lack of idea why the two of you were friends, you were inseparable; that was until gepard became the captain of the silvermane guards. now it seems that he's more devoted to the supreme guardian than he is to his own family's name.

you knew though. you knew the pull you felt as children was a dumb, silly crush that you never shook off. the sweet young blond toddler who would sit with you at school lunch, clasping his lunchbox with a toothy grin and who noticed you despite the things people whispered, that's exactly who you fell for. except you were almost a hundred percent certain you'd grow out of it.

you didn't.

in fact, it got worse.

and to make matters worse, no matter how much you'd tried to subtly hint to gepard that someone liked him, fawned over him even, he didn't take the hint at all. it was like talking to a brick wall, your words seemingly going into one ear and coming out the other as if his mind was hollow when it came to anything romantic - you were starting to think it was.

what you didn't realise was the seemingly naïve blond harboured feelings, ones he just didn't understand. he'd become a work devoted man - his every waking breath taken in honour of the supreme guardian, his every word uttered in the name of the landau family. gepard didn't have the time of day to ponder on emotions, at least not ones that would create obstacles in his pursuit of safety and peace within belobog's walls.

he was not only a brick wall for you but for himself and he didn't even notice it. you raise the hot mug to your lips again, your eyes trailing out of the nearby window to take in the way snowflakes waltz, their patterns unique and never once the same as the other. sometimes that's how it feels when you look at the souls of belobog. gepard's icy blue eyes follow your gaze even though he's tired of seeing the snow.

"when are you settling down, geppie?" your voice rings out into the awkward silence, harmonic and a gentle melody that gepard wishes would lull him to sleep when he's restless, his lithe body aching from the days spent in his armour like a statue in the harsh cold. he'll toss and turn, unable to rest when his mind tortures him with the thoughts of the guards under his command that he's lost in the past.

the silence is a killer, tearing you apart as you reconsider your sudden question. you was being nosey, you admit and you sounded a lot like a rich aunt wanting to know when he's having kids - this wasn't your intentions but you wanted to know where you stood with your childhood crush. it'd be better to know now rather than later, at least in your eyes.

"settling down isn't necessary y/n," he comments suddenly in response, clearing his throat awkwardly despite the hot flush in his cheeks that he blames on the geomarrow heating system inside the hotel, "i have work to focus on."

a sad smile crosses your face for a mere few seconds and it doesn't go unnoticed by gepard. he doesn't push it but he takes a moment to consider what could possibly have made you ask that question. while he ponders with no clear answer in sight, there's a realisation that hits like a freight train - gepard isn't ever going to give you even a prospect of a chance with him. it's harsh and sudden, clinging to your heart and tearing it apart. you cover up the pain with a sip of your drink, the very one going cold.

there couldn't be a way in the cosmos that gepard hadn't an idea about your crush; not after all these years that you'd be pining for him. the gifts you'd wrapped so neatly, tied with a ribbon bow - effort that you'd never put in for anyone else's gifts - that would end up in his gloved hands every christmas, birthday and numerous other special occasions; special occasions such as his promotion to captain of the silvermane guards.

you'd wrote a letter confession once in your neatest handwriting, presenting it to the maids of the landau family as they giggled unanimously at the shy front of you they'd finally witnessed. unfortunately for you, that time was a dud since in the hurry of the morning you'd wrote aforementioned letter, you'd failed to even sign it off with your name. gepard, in all of his blind sightedness, didn't even recognise your handwriting let alone mention the letter to you.

with a grimace - one that you're unsure if it came from the bitter, cold drink in your mug or the situation at hand, - you realise it's probably best to move on. it feels as if your heart is shattering, crumbling in your very hands as gepard raises his lukewarm mug to his lips, a faint grimace also crossing his face at the temperatures of your drinks now. you could still support gepard the way you are now, as the two kids that used to read children's books together. you'd just never be able to settle for more than that.

the air is thick as the two of you take the distaste for your drinks as a sign to leave, that the brief catch-up was over and the awkward air could fade out. yet gepard can't just leave you on the front steps of the goethe hotel, of course not. to make your breaking heart worse, he's determined to walk you back to your family home - which isn't far, mind you but you still spite him for being so hopeless with feelings.

"i'm being sent back to the frontlines soon," he mentions calmly as his eyelashes catch snowflakes and you're reminded of when you'd stick your tongues out to catch them as kids. you tear your gaze away from him but your brows furrow in concern, "the supreme guardian wants high defences around the fragmentum while it eases away."

"you shouldn't go," you mumble before you can even think about the repercussions of your words. gepard's eyes widen and he looks at you in confusion, "i mean - i'm just scared for you, geppie. it's dangerous out there. why can't you just stay inside the city walls?"

"it's my duty, y/n!" gepard exclaims, his brows knitted together as he pauses walking to turn to you. you'd never argued back against his work before, why did you suddenly care so much? "it's my duty... to abide to the supreme guardian, it always has been - you wouldn't understand-"

"no, maybe i don't but i love you and you don't seem to understand that either!" you blurt out angrily, your fists clenched as tears prick at your eyes. you could cover it as the cold but your emotions are written heavily on your face and gepard pauses, his chapped lips parted in shock as he takes a moment.

you go quiet, short breaths of air gasping from your lips as you try to calm down following the ordeal. you're hurt, torn by gepard's lack of ability to read that after all these years, you'd been the most loyal person to him while he'd been running off being that exact person to the supreme guardian. all you wanted was for him to notice that.

it's almost as if gepard's body and mind have to restart, blinking slowly as he stares at the way your eyes are glittering in the brief glimpse of sunlight peeking from behind dull clouds. his pulse is racing to the point where he can hear his heart beating in his ears, drowning out the idle chatter of people around them that don't seem to quite notice the situation between the children of the two noble families in belobog. gepard's stomach twists and turns and for a moment, he considers whether these are the butterflies that serval and lynx always spoke about with none other than you.

the blond can't bear to see the way tears are threatening to spill down your cheeks a moment longer yet he also can't appear to form the words needed to even remotely convey his feelings or comfort you. so instead, he follows his heart for once. his white gloved hands reach up, cupping your cold cheeks delicately before he presses his lips to yours, pulling you closer without a second thought.

the day that gepard returns to the frontlines arrives sooner than you'd expected. to cope with the absence of your now boyfriend - a term that still makes you giggle like a school kid when you utter it to anybody, - you'd taken to helping out at belobog's very own history and culture museum. you enjoyed it more than you could probably put into words, especially teaching the children small history lessons like you were doing currently.

the hall is bustling but the kids' faces light up with every detail you go over, wide grins on their faces. out of the corner of your eyes, during the middle of a sentence, you caught sight of a familiar head of blond hair approaching from across the hall. your heart speeds up, a hopeless smile on your face as you quickly return to what you was saying to the children.

a small smile etches onto gepard's face as he leans against a nearby wall, listening to your history lesson intently. you're fantastic with kids, always so expressive to help fuel their curiosities and growing excitement and he can't help but remember just how well you would handle lynx when she was just a small child. he folds his arms across his chest, admiring the way your eyes glitter in the warm lamps that light the museum up - a much better sight than the way your eyes glittered a few days ago.

your lesson is soon over, the kids hurriedly following pela as she takes over your next job the moment she catches sight of gepard so casually leaning in the museum with a hopelessly in love smile on his face - one he can't exactly hide anymore whenever he looks at you. you approach with a confused smile, a stack of information papers in your hands.

"aren't you supposed to be at the frontlines right now?" you ask softly, tilting your head as you stand before the tall blond man. gepard shrugs lightly, the most carefree you'd seen him for a long time. that grin on his face grows and it begins to rub off on you too.

"the frontlines can wait, lady bronya heard my reasoning and granted me permission to stay within belobog for a while longer," he muses, blue eyes sparkling with a mischievous look you'd lacked to see from him since you were children, "why? not happy to see me?"

you consider asking what the reasoning was that he'd presented to the supreme guardian, although you knew that bronya was a soft soul underneath that tough guise she settles in for the role of the supreme guardian. you shake the thought of questioning him from your mind, leaning forward to press your lips to his softly. the stack of papers in your hand reaches up to hide your faces during your intimate moment and gepard grins, wrapping his arms around your waist as if he couldn't survive without pulling you closer.

he may have been a few (many) years late but there wasn't a chance in the cosmos that he was going to let you go now - the frontlines could indeed wait.

the archives' notifications. @bisexuawolfsalt, @lovingluxury, @auroratumbles, @ryuryuryuyurboat, @soleillunne, @zamorazz

#: recorded in the archives #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff #hsr x reader #hsr gepard #gepard x reader #gepard fluff

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deliciousdefendorinternet · 3 days

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in Defence of Creek ( warning if your an Avid Creek Hater you may not want to read this 😂😂 )

youtube

ps. Branch will Hair strangle some guy he Barely knew who he didn't even care about for betraying them but doesn't do the same to his Jerkass Brothers who let him down his whole life 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️.

anyway onto the topic at hand 😂😂😂😂

Creek gets an unfair Rap in my opinion sure he technically betrayed the village but when you examine the story of the first film he literally had no other choice.

as there's no other scenario that didn't end with him being Horribly Eaten as soon as he was picked by Chef for Gristle Jr to eat and taken out of the cage his fate was sealed.

unlike the rest of the snack pack he didn't have the option of sitting around waiting on the off chance Poppy would Rescue them.

we see in the Betrayal scene he was literally in Gristle's mouth before he finally played the only card he could and said he'd do what ever they wanted him to do.

and from then on he was kept in Gristle's locket around his neck which I have to say was Horrible poor guy was stuffed in their with no space or light or even air given how tight it was.

and he was kept there until eventually being moved out of the locket and put into Chef's waist bag just before the snack pack got the Locket from Gristle and were then captured by Chef.

and from that point like Creek himself said there was literally nothing else he could do that wouldn't result in him being killed straight away by Chef.

this is what rubs me the wrong way about the movie trying to make him into a villain he has no real agency in the betrayal it'd be a little easier for me to Judge him.

if he was kept in the cage with the Rest of the Snack Pack so he had the option of just having faith in Poppy someone he claimed to care about.

coming to save them but instead he took the more cowardly action and offered to sell everyone out early on in order to save himself then I feel it'd work a little better.

but having him be plucked from the cage early on and literally only betray everyone when he was on the verge of being eaten just makes him a victim in my eyes.

like I'm sorry but he can't be blamed too much for anything he does at that point he's just a normal civilian who's life was put in danger by negligent leaders ( cough Peppy cough ).

he technically wasn't obligated to die then and there and the whole situation with him selling out the Village is a classic Trolley Problem sure its easy to Judge.

from the outside but when we're on the verge of being gruesomely murdered who's to say what each of us would do in the moment to stay alive.

basically its Chef's actions and she's the one to blame not Creek dude was a literal Hostage who had been kidnaped Humiliated by being shoved in a taco and sprinkled with spicy stuff.

and then nearly eaten and then crammed into a tiny locket for presumably Hours and then crammed into a waist bag like how is this guy not the victim here?

and some people do like to point to how he behaved about the whole thing telling Poppy he's doing it for her but I'm sorry that doesn't change anything in my eyes.

sure its an unusual reaction but its also an unusual situation and I see it more as him weakly attempting to justify it to himself since he does admit he wishes there was another way but is promptly reminded by Chef that there isn't.

his Reaction isn't Great but it doesn't change the situation and make him some pure evil person.

a little autistic maybe? given the weird response to an emotional situation he has but yeah it doesn't make him worse in my eyes.

basically to end things the film as well as the fandom that villainise him seem to basically be saying that he should have just laid down and accepted his gruesome fate the first time.

and the movie even ends on a cruel irony of still being eaten along with Chef.

which for Chef is ironic in a karmic way but for Creek its just kinda sad tbh so the film's saying his death was decided at the start and he's a villain for not accepting it the first time.

and as punishment he meets the same fate in the end anyway.

I thought this was a Trolls film not a Final Destination film lol.

anyway even tho its separate cannon I was Happy when he was Revealed to still be alive in TBGO sure I feel his Return could have been written way better.

but Regardless I'm Glad he's still alive he didn't deserve to die and also the movie cannon never contradicts the tv show cannon in Terms of Creek's survival.

so yeah he could very well still be alive in the movies as well sorry Haters 😅😅😅😅.

#Youtube #trolls #trolls creek #dreamworks trolls #trolls the beat goes on #trolls tbgo #trolls dreamworks #Trolls #Trolls Creek #Trolls The Beat Goes On #Trolls TBGO #trolls creek defence #sorry not sorry haters 😂😂😂😂

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prongsiepotter · 5 hours

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down bad | j. potter

summary: you're so in love with james potter but he's a little too good at giving you mixed signals that it might actually ruin you

pairing: james potter x reader

warnings: angst, a little fluff if u squint, and so much longing & yearning. omg so much of it

a/n: i am unfortunately completely obsessed with taylor swift's new album, so everything i'll write in the near future will be based on one of the ttpd songs (yey!) & this one's based on 'down bad.' feel free to send requests if u want pick the next song for me x

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"So he just said no?" Mary all but hisses. Marlene shushes her, glancing around the classroom before leaning down from where she's sitting on your desk.

"Are you sure it didn't mean something else?" She rests her hand on yours. "Maybe it was just a misunderstanding. He wouldn't…he just wouldn't, right?" You smile weakly at her, then shake your head. She squeezes your hand.

"The note was pretty clear," you say with a soft sigh. The sentence rolls off your tongue with unhidden bitterness. "Sorry, can't. Need to catch up on some assignments."

You would show it to them, so they could see for themselves and maybe divert their sympathetic gazes from you. But you had set it on fire right after reading it, just like the other two notes friendly rejecting you. You still aren't sure why you did it. After all, you did just tell Mary and Marlene that you're fine. At least you will be. You should not be this devastated over some guy.

Even if that guy is James Potter.

James who is now strolling into the room with his mates, looking as invincible and full of life as he always has and always will.

Quickly, you force a smile at the girls and pull out the chair next to you. Marlene, bless her, gets the hint and lightly shoves Mary's shoulder to have her take the seat. You're going through your book bag, pulling out your inkwell when four bodies make their way past your desk.

"Ladies," comes Sirius cheerfully loud voice as he bows at the waist because, of course, he does. Peter and Remus aren't as dramatic with their greetings. The latter, however, does take the time to slow down in front of you until you look up and return his kind smile. Belatedly, you realise perhaps you shouldn't have done that. You lock eyes with James, who's right behind him.

He sends you an easy smile and a wink. Like he's letting you in on another one of his rare secrets. You're not sure if you're smiling back, but it's almost a given that you are.

He takes his seat behind you, laughing blithely at a joke Pete just told, and it's all so painfully charming that you want to die. You fear he will always make you feel like this. Like you're somehow the chosen one. It's such a sickening feeling, you can't help but whip around and look at Mary, pleadingly. Though, you're not sure what you're pleading for anymore.

She shoots you another unbearably sympathetic smile, looking like she's close to cooing at you. You sigh, hiding your face in the crook of your arms.

You can't help but think how easy it would be to just cry right here. It's embarrassing to admit, but you've done it plenty of times over the weekend after you had seen James out at Hogsmeade with the others. Miserably, you had realised that he was, in fact, not too busy working on his assignments. He just didn't want to spend time with you.

You almost let out a sob.

A hand rubs your back and you know it can only be Mary, but you let yourself believe that it's the universe consoling you, as if to say there, there because there's nothing fair about this and she knows it, but there's nothing she can do it about now, can she?

History of Magic passes in a blur. Before you know it, you're in the library, pouring all of yourself into an essay that you normally couldn't have cared less for. But you're willing to do whatever it takes to keep yourself busy. You know your thoughts will stray the moment you're lying quietly in bed anyway, awaiting another sleepless night.

You finish the sentence and look up, satisfied with your work. Apparently it's been a while since you've torn your gaze away from the parchment before you, seeing how stiff your neck is. You knead at the uncomfortable knot in your shoulder while looking around the library. It's relatively full today with every other seat being taken.

Which makes it all the more irritating when your gaze snatches on a figure sat at the other table right across from you. He's not even looking up, head bent over a book, but you would recognise that mop of unruly dark curls anywhere. James must've seen you when he came in, but that might have just been your hopeful self speaking.

Begrudgingly, you resume your writing and it takes everything in you not to look up every few minutes. To glimpse the slight furrow in his brows and the small pout of his lips as he's carefully reading every paragraph. You know he's likely looking for something to prepare for a prank. Normally, you would simply go over and ask him what he's up to. You know he'd happily tell you. But you're glad to have at least a little bit of pride and dignity left that keeps you rooted in your spot.

Seemingly not enough though since all you can think about is that there's no way he doesn't know that you're right there. It really does make you want to bang your head against the table. Maybe that would finally catch James' attention.

Pathetically, you glance at him only to notice that he's packing his things to leave. The tip of your feather goes back to the parchment so fast, it almost pierces it. You haven't got a clue what you're writing, too busy tracking James' movements from the corner of your eyes.

You watch him stand up, walking down the length of his table towards the door down the hall on his right. Then he stops. You hold your breath. James seemingly hesitates before fixing the strap of his bag on his shoulder. He turns left and walks towards you. You're staring at your hand as it writes illegible words, completely out of your control, when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

"Hey," James whispers when you look up, giving you a familiar grin and small wave. It's an innocent gesture, sweet, but there's almost something hostile about this encounter. Like you have no choice but to let him occupy every single one of your senses. You stare up at him, a matching smile sweeping over your lips before you can think better of it.

That's when you notice the scarf he's wearing and its frizzled ends. It's yours. You know it is.

Did he not give it back to you after one of your nights out together on the stands? After you had flown on your brooms, so close to the sea of stars that you could've dipped your fingertips in them? You could almost hear the echoes of your windblown laughters as the memory pushes itself into the foreground of your mind.

James is sitting still, rosy-cheeked, watching you with curious eyes while you babble on about the Leo constellation. He had just told you that you could do whatever you want to him—another quite maddening thing to casually say to someone—and now he's apparently keen on staying true to his word by letting you wrap your scarf around his neck.

It took some convincing before he'd finally accepted it from you. You promised that you wouldn't be cold with your high collared sweater, but James only gave in when you had accepted his wool hat in exchange.

He had carefully put it on you, smoothing down your hair and pulling out some loose strands to frame your face, mumbling something about how much lovelier his hat looked on you than on him. You told yourself that he surely must've known what it did to you when his knuckles brushed your cheeks. Right? Surely.

James pokes your side, chuckling, as if he sensed that your mind was drifting elsewhere. He cracks another joke, saying that if you were the one to teach him Astronomy, he might actually pay attention in class. He says it like it's a deal and you feel inclined to do whatever it takes to hold up your side of the bargain.

You laugh helplessly, feeling drunk on a little bit of everything; the stars above, James' gentle laughter, the familiar smell of broom wax and crisp winter air. This must be cosmic love, you think to yourself. Your breath clouds in front of you, becoming one with his. All the while, you're too aware of James' shoulder bumping into you, his leg pressed against yours. There's no one out here but you two.

You have all the room in the world, but James chose to sit this close to you. Probably close enough for him to hear your heart pounding. Did he do it for a reason? You'd love to know.

"You don't need me to pay attention in Astronomy," you find yourself saying in response, something daring laced in the drawl of your voice. His eyes flashes, bright and a bit wild. It's the same look he gets after you challenge him to a race on your brooms. His grin grows wide, carefree, and oh so lovely.

"Please." His face comes impossibly closer and you lean in without another thought, eager to take whatever it is James will give you. You feel his breath on your lips.

"I will always need you, Y/N."

Somehow he makes it sound genuine.

Then he winks and leaves you a horrid, forsaken mess. Somehow he makes that feel like a nice gesture too.

Incredulously, you stare at him as he leans back, elbows resting on the seats behind him. James Potter, you think weakly, what are you doing to me? Not for the first time you ponder what you would do if you can't have him. You almost double over from the striking pain in your chest.

Then he points out another constellation and you nearly forget all about yourself. He's good at that. Never ceasing to show you that the world is bigger than the two of you. Making you forget and remember that you might be in love. Because what if you were in love?

James cups the back of his neck, then points towards the door of the library, almost shyly letting you know that he's leaving. You nod slowly, still dazed. A small smile crosses his lips before you watch him round the corner, his back disappearing from your sight.

You blink, letting out a ragged breath. You feel like you got the wind knocked out of you. Like you just lost your twin. Someone who knows you like no one else ever will. Someone who might just be your better half. Someone who sometimes makes you feel like they want nothing to do with you.

It's ridiculous, you think bleakly to yourself, you're so down bad.

And James Potter makes it feel like a curse and a blessing.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter fanfiction #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #marauders fanfiction #marauders #taylor swift #ttpd #the tortured poets department

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fancylala4 · 2 days

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I saw some of you anti Ts posts they are funny and I need to Rant. sorry.

I am so FUCKING sick and TIRED of being relatable being cool! Fuck! If I wanna listen to someone they need to sound good! Way better than ME! Why is being average so overhyped! Bring back actual talent! Bring back people who can sing! Really sing. I want to be awestruck. I want to me in mesmerized. For fuckss sake Taylor Swift is only that popular because she is average and these swifties identify with her.

And fucking hell I AM SO TIRED of this bitch! I am so tired that they act like only her achievements count and as if achievements of other artists don't fucking count!

The Weeknd has a song with 4Billion streams on Spotify.

Drake has one song with 3 Billion and one with 2 Billion

Post Malone has one with 3 Billion and two with 2 Billion

Dua Lipa has four with 2 Billion

Justin Bieber has 3 with 2 Billion and 1 with 3 Billion

Coldplay has 3 with 2 Billion

Bruno Mars has 3 songs with 2 Billion

Ed Sheeran has 3 songs with 2 Billion and 1 song with 3 Billion

Taylor fucking Swift just recently as one song with 2 Billion streams! ONE! if she is so big? Why doesn't she have more? I can answer you this. Because her stupid fans only care about first week streams. They care about getting her on the chart. That is what spotify and billboard pushes. These morons will mass play her music all night so it get streams. It's so embarrassing.

If she didn't release shit constantly and her stans weren't some pathetic losers wanting her to chart so she just charts there is no WAY in fucking hell she could compete with todays artists.

Fucking hell and they compare her to Michael Jackson! Taylor Swift does not have the LONGEVITY. SHE DOES NOT. Not Mariah Careys, Britney Spears, Elton John or the Beatles. There's more but here's a few.

Michael Jackson had a top ten hit in 5 DIFFERENT DECADES. ( 6 if you count the Jackson 5) And probably will have another one after the biopic comes out!

If Taylor Swift would do this she would have to be able to have a TOP TEN HIT in 2030 and 2040. There is no way she would be doing this.

Mariah Carey in 4 DECADES SINCE THE 90'S!

Britney Spears the same as Mariah!

Elton John in four from the 70's- 20's missing the 00's and 10's.

The Beatles in the 60's 70's 90's and 20's.

Like i hate it so much how much this woman is pushed! And swifties gon act like as if she is the only artist being this succesful! SHE IS NOT! It's more impressive that Rihanna still gets high streams beside not releasing anything for YEARS! BTCH i wanna see Taylor Swift not releasing anything for 7 Years and see where she's at. Let's find out. But this woman is to coward to ever do that. She is so damn desperate for validation it's embarrassing.

HOW THE FUCK IS SHE NOT EMBARRASSED WINNING ALL THESE AWARDS OVER PEOPLE WHO ARE 10 TIMES MORE TALENTED THAN HER?!

This btch is absolutely not humble because i would be embarrassed. Literally. It's like how can you shit as tour gain so much money when you know you can't dance and are a mid singer.

And these faces of acting shocked when she wins an award! With that open mouth and GOD! Yes we get it you won again "suprisingly."

How the fuck does she have more AOTYs than any other fucking artist ever? How the fuck does this mediocre ass woman have more than Janet, Michael Jackson, Amy Winehouse, Whitney Houston, Mariah Carey, Stevie Wonder.

And don't let me start on her victim card that she has used has her brand since fucking Kanye West had to go up on stage and embarrass her. He literally started this whole shit. You can never criticise her for anything. Because if you do you are a misogynist who just hates succesful women. She's always the fuckin victim and swifties romanticize it so much! They want her to be this struggling underdog who rose to fame cause that is what fits their damn wattpad story!

Taylor Swift wants to be the Man. She wouldn't be as succeaful if she was a man. Point blank period. Her shield to protect her self from any criticism wouldn't work. The only thing she has to be oppressed about is being a woman thats why her and swifties milk it so fuccking hard!!!

Thanks, and it’s ok. This whole blog is just a bunch of rants anyways.

But everything you said was true. I didn’t know she of all people have more aoty awards than those you mentioned. This just proves that the Grammys are a joke.

#asks #anon #anti taylor swift

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smolmousepotato · 2 days

Text

Tw: ooc, Boothill x fem!reader, tavern, bad writing ig, cringey i think

Midnight tavern

"What's a pretty lil' thing like ya doin' here eh?"

You can feel a warm waft of air trail the side of your neck as a figure corners you from behind. The night is still young.

You came to this tavern in hopes of drowning the day's fatigue with alcohol, with or without fun, you couldn't care less. But the relieving is a must.

Alone, you sit on a stool by the counter with your usual drink: a blueberry martini.

Your senses can't help but relish in the way the berries and vodka blend and soothe the raging storm within your soul. Everything is washed away, bit by bit along with each sip. By the end of the night, you'd expect a cleansed mood, free of annoyance and exhaust.

But this random guy who had been staring at you from across the counter might just create some more stress for you.

You were talking to the bartender when he rose from your peripheral vision. His tall form caught your attention. You notice the mechanical details on his body and the way he showed them off in a flashingly bold way.

The rim of his hat was overshadowing the half of his face. Gruffly, you see him approach.

The bartender left you with it, being occupied with another client.

And so that leads to you, being pressed against a wall by the man whose name you barely know.

He speaks to you in a low, rough voice with a thick Southern accent, towering his form over you. Chills were sent down your spine, and the alcohol in your system did the effect worse.

It felt hot. Amidst the crowd of the tavern, he traps you in one place, breathing heavily down your neck.

"Tell me."

"Just... for a little relief..." you reply with a quiet voice, looking away from his intense gaze.

"Mm, why do pretty lil' dolls like you need relief eh?"

"Personal stuff. Is it necessary for you to be this nosy?" You grumble, a little annoyed by the close proximity between you two.

"Hm, why, it ain't my business at all, in fact," the man leans back a little, noticing your annoyance. He chuckles, "I was just a lil' curious 'bout this pretty doll right here, so feisty ain't ya?"

"Not your business."

"Of course it ain't, cutie."

"What?"

"What? Got any problems 'bout that nickname I give?"

"Yeah. I don't even know you, and you're throwing nicknames at me."

"Aight, the name's Boothill. Pleasure to know your beautiful name?"

"Why should I even tell you..."

Afterwards, he eventually got your name. He grins and presses a brief little flirty kiss on your lips.

"See ya later, darlin'~"

You wouldn't think of a day you'd see someone's dignity missing like that.

He awaits you the next day you return, flirtatiously gazing at you. You can see him tip his hat.

Day after day, he'd be there, in the same spot you'd found him in since the first day, tipping his hat a little and grinning.

One day you step in to find his absence. A routine image, now you can't help but feel a little empty inside.

You take your seat, order your usual and chillax.

You sigh. Perhaps that flirt was entertaining after all.

Drink after drink, you venture forth beyond your forte, intoxicating yourself by midnight, when the tavern lessens its people.

That is when a certain man walks in, all bloody and staggering. He had a duel with another outlaw and took a bullet in the arm. The blood was the other's.

He sees you, limping over the counter, probably passed out cold. A closer distance; he smells alcohol and a mixed scent of multiple berries.

With a chuckle, he asks the bartender for some bandage and wraps his "wound" up.

His eyes wander back to where you sat, his heart swell with a need to wrap his arms around your form and pick you up.

But that'd be weird if he does, right?

So he tries his best to ignore it and acts casual, walking past you like nothing happened.

——

But she wasn't fully asleep. She can pick up the metallic scent of blood from where she sits, and it alerts her from her slumber.

His steps come to a halt when he felt a light force tugging at his arm. He turns around, a smile gracing his lips.

She, a small little thing who picked up the sense of danger and decided to be awake, though a tad bit sleepy.

"Well, what's this huh?" He chuckles, "clingy all out of a sudden?"

He can hear little grumbles from her, signifying her unclear annoyance towards him.

"Tell me, doll," he swoops in, his arms on the counter, trapping her from above, "would you?"

"Hah?"

"Would you care... if I walk in... this bloody?"

"I mean who doesn't? You look like you were dying."

"Yeaaaah, but still, that's just a side question. Here's the real one dollie, answer it honestly."

"50-50. Depends."

"Stop that."

He leans closer, his lips about to touch the shell of her ear when he whispers, "miss me?"

That sent shivers down her spine, making her weak in the knees and blank in the mind. That caused her heart to race like it's never before.

That makes her realize that she craves his presence.

"No." She spats, feigning annoyance.

———

You hear him chuckle.

"Y'know liars don't get to live so long."

"I wasn't lying."

"Sure thing, hun."

His hand grasps at her chin, pulling it upwards so that her head leans back. Those grey, unique eyes gaze into hers in a certain way that stirs up the butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

"Mmmh... what a sweet lil' thing, ain't ya?"

A pause of silence, where he looks into your eyes and solidifies you with all those feelings.

"Consent?"

"What?"

"A kiss?"

You look hesitantly at him, but your body has a mind of its own to decide on what must be done. Your hand wanders to the collar of his shirt, gripping it and pulling it down until his lips press against yours.

There was a slight halt in his breathing, as his eyes widened and his lips slightly agaped. But that was a brief moment before he dived right in, carrying passion with his kiss.

Your lips lock in a palpable passion, where your hands grip the back of his head and his hand rubs your body all over.

He chuckles as the kiss breaks. His hand grabs you by the collar and yanks you away from the stool.

"Get down 'ere, you sly lil' minx."

The alcohol in your system exposes you to being a little staggering, and an extra bit of flirtatiousness.

You grin, looking up from your height, into his eyes. There was affection and amusement in those eyes.

And then your lips collide in an intense kiss, once again. His arm wraps itself around your waist and tightens, pulling your body into his, and encouraging you to hold onto him.

So your hands do. They grasp onto his shirt, trying to pull him closer.

His hands then snake themselves under your body and pick you up, carrying you to the inn next to the tavern.

———

And then behind doors, each and every one of their kisses further lightens up the passion that has been suppressed within their hearts in fear of rejection. But now they both accept one another's feelings and are already in the same bed, it's clear that the passion blooms into lust and whatever comes afterward.

Perhaps the cowboy has found his place where he belongs, and so has she.

#honkai star rail #dunno what to tag this #the brainrot is real #boothill #boothill x reader #boothill x you #slightly suggestive #hsr #hsr boothill #tavern

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sorryseraphim · 2 days

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needed release

I'm just a girl, I need Enver Gortash to eat up my dark Urge, Helene after they asked everybody out of the office.

Read below:

(Also in AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55459897)

"If you just had, the slightest idea how to listen, and not just hear, we wouldn't be dealing with this concern right now!"

No one moved. No one even dared look at Helene's gaze as she looked over plans derailed by an inconvenience made by both her and Enver's people. It was one simple task: deliver a letter to Moonrise for Ketheric Thorm regarding their plan to snatch the Grand Duke, Ulder Ravengard.

Their plans were almost compromised, the stupidity of the persons tasked to deliver manifested during the journey to the gloomy fields of the Shadow Cursed Lands. They almost revealed themselves to a few passing fighters in green and brown. If it weren't for Helene's intuition that misfortune would strike and order a few more people to trail those who are tasked to go ahead, they'd experience unimaginable setbacks.

"You will not lay a finger on them," Enver grumbled, sitting opposite her by the table. He was trying to keep his composure in check, but he was also stressed. Rubbing his left temple as he listened to her outburst, her words getting louder and shrilly as she went on.

"I am a sorcerer, Gortash. I don't need to use my bare hands!"

"Everybody, out!" He finally shouted, his patience wavered, standing up from his seat.

Several nervous glances occurred around the room as Enver's order sank in. When nobody moved, Helene let out another roar.

"Whoever is still in this room after a minute would lose their head!"

In a flash, everyone shuffled out of the small dwelling they were gathered in. Enver walked up to her with long strides, his voice hushed with a hint of anger.

"Are you out of your mind?! Displaying your outburst like some kind of an ungrateful child?"

"Would you rather just have me kill them immediately, without question, without a word?" She fired back, fingers flexing on her side, a clear indication that her anger was at full throttle.

He hissed softly to his side before looking back at her with dark eyes. He rested his hands on her shoulders as he tried to push her down the table, towering over her. "Sit down on the table and relax. Let's talk."

"Let me think, Enver," Helene said, her hand on her right cheek, pinching herself hard enough to leave a reddish mark.

"I said sit down," he insisted, pushing her by the edge of the long table on which various reports and letters were sprawled out. His tone was striking, commanding in a sense that he would not take no for an answer.

She swatted his hand away, shushing him. "What the fuck are you doing? I said let me think!"

"Relax, Helene. I'll take care of it. Let me take care of you," Enver's tone suddenly switched into a whisper. He held her chin in one hand while the other traveled to her size, squeezing her curves gently. It immediately escalated to harsh grabs as it traveled down the dip between her legs, making Helene gasp in response, which Enver had immediately captured using his mouth.

Their lips meet violently, hungry for each other's warmth despite the pressing challenge they have yet to deal with. Just as Helene was deep in the kiss, his hand found its way in from the slits of her skirt, snaking its way between her legs. Enver let out a groan, voice hitching and amused at how wet she already was.

"Let me taste you, Helene... Gods, I want every bit of you for myself," Enver murmured in her mouth before he broke away, pulling a chair in front of her and sitting down. Without missing a beat, he slowly lifted the hem of her dress from her ankles, caressing her legs and kissing her bare knees up to her thighs. His lips touched her skin slowly and full of tenderness as he kept an eye on any signs of aggression she might pose in return for the gesture.

Her body began to melt in his touch, succumbing to the gentleness of his lips. Her nostrils stop flaring, yet her face is still red from anger. Slowly, her breathing shallowed, face softening as she looked down on him as he leisurely trailed his tongue up her thighs towards her tenderness.

She could feel his breath, heavy and feverish, against her skin as he neared her entrance. As if on cue, Helene lifted her entire skirt up to her waist as he started to part her legs, wide enough to push his face in and pleasure her.

He raised her leg up his shoulders to reveal her cunt, which was starting to get soaked as Enver rubbed her legs, his palms rough against her own soft body, the feeling of his hands making her shiver.

"Make it quick..." She breathed heavily, biting her lip as his lips brushed against her folds, her body tingling for the pleasure to come.

"I'll take care of everything; let me just take care of you right now,"

When his tongue made contact with her cunt, it was as if her burden was washed away. The weight of the world lifted from her shoulders as Enver devoured her, savoring every bit she gave him, her soft moans and sighs of bliss.

He pushed the tip of his tongue deeper between her folds, greedily tasting her wetness, as he grabbed her tightly by the waist. He could feel her softly squirming, legs trembling as he increased his pace. Enver could hear the slight hitching on her voice and her attempts to repress her moans as it started to get louder, enough for the whole room to hear.

Helene watched as he lifted his head for a bit, resting a hand on top of her womb as his thumb rubbed her clit, looking up at her as he lapped her entrance. It took everything in her not to whine desperately as another gush of her need rushed out. Helene let out a soft groan as she watched him look up, grinning from between her legs, half of his face drenched in her wetness.

She gripped the edge of the table hard when he went down again, this time desperate and with urgency. "Gods above... Enver, you're driving me mad..."

"Are you close?" He whispered between the act, sucking and lapping her juices as he picked up the pace.

She looked down at him, nodding quickly as she suddenly gripped his hair, tugging it desperately as she neared orgasm.

"Anything for you, my dearest," Enver whispered finally as he began rubbing her clit with haste as his tongue traveled the entire length of her folds.

She could feel it coming, about to burst and wash her body with ecstasy when they heard a knock on the door, followed by a soft rustling of the door knob.

In an instant, Enver stood up, hands off her body as Helene followed and straightened her stance, making sure her skirt was not bundled up her waist.

He took a few steps away from her, turning around momentarily to wipe his face off Helene's wetness as she shouted towards the door. "I did not ask anyone to come back yet!"

"But Priestess, we received word just now. Lady Orin has delivered urgent news."

"For fuck's sake..." She whispered, sighing, "Come in, and let us hear it,"

As their subordinates started to pour in, Enver noticed how her hands twitched on her side, making him smirk. She was subtlety displaying her frustration, an itch to murder someone who dared interrupt them just before she was about to reach orgasm.

He moved around the room, back to where she stood, and whispered, pointing out her fidgety hands to murder, to keep her cool and let patience take over as they discussed news brought by her blood kin.

"I am well," She hushed in return, "But whoever that is that interrupted us would lose their tongue in the morning. I'll take care of it."

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idealest-of-ideals · 1 month

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Enemies to lovers kousano.

Thats all.

#To ME their relationship would be sooooo sskk coded #They would hate each others guts and talk shit about one another behind their backs #I saw this one art of them both beating each other up and I can't stop thinking about it #Like obviously they're not that action oriented but I think they would still pull some shitty stuff over one another #Yosano would hate kouyou bc she thinks she's a cocky prissy bastard in the same way she kinda hated on chuuya that one ep #Also the fact that she works so loyally under mori. who. we all know what.#And also kouyou abusing and manipulating kyouka in a similar way as to how mori manipulated her #Kouyou would hate yosano too. not to as much of an extent as yosano would #But. enough #It would probably be similar to akus jealousy towards atsushi #How yosano was able to grow and leave the toxic environment she was in (mori) and become a person who can love themselves and shit #And how kouyou couldn't escape the mafia as a kid #So she convinced herself into believing she didn't really deserve a normal life #But her hatred of yosano is wayyyyy more repressed #Since she's more on the logical side #And since kyouka cares for yosano too #So she wouldn't deprive kyouka of another person in her life #But as time goes on and kyouka heals and learns to accept and understand kouyou for her (undoubtedly) toxic actions #This is where the shin soukou-esque shit comes in #They obviously don't partner up and shit #Since they have basically nothing to do with each other in their respective organisations #But they try to get to know each other???????#Idk how romantic relationships work but from here on they get all competitively flirty and lovey dovey #And yeah #Idk #These are a fuck load of tags #I should've just wrote this in the post itself #Bsd #Bungou Stray Dogs #Kousano

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moonsandstar-s · 1 year

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one of the aspects that i love most about the confession scene is that blake & yang both already know the big truth they haven’t dropped on each other. blake knows yang is thinking ‘i love you’ and yang realizes that blake is thinking it too as the clouds go gold behind her, even though she immediately questions it with the dropping of her gaze and the uncertainty on her face - for them, it’s a matter of being brave enough to speak it into existence rather than revealing previously-unknown feelings to each other. my question is, when do you guys think blake and yang first became aware of how they, themselves, were feeling?

#though i love the thought of them having crushes on each other at beacon i think it's more of a curiosity than anything #like the precursor to a crush or even feelings #i wouldn't put my money on burning the candle either - i think yang was interested and blake still had a lot she was processing at the time #but that neither of them really thought concretely in that way about one another #at least not for the duration of v1-first three quarters of v3 #once beacon started falling i think their worry for each other spiked - you see blake and yang's faces during their call to each other #as beacon is under attack and then obviously everything that happens w adam after that #but of course #i think yang first started to realize her feelings were more than just 'like' sometime immediately after blake left after the fall of beacon #she realizes her frustration/hurt/bitterness/grief is more than just 'someone i trust and care about left me behind' because underneath that #there is a very raw and real ache of missing blake more than anything and wishing she were there #and that's when it starts to become apparent to us too #AS FOR BLAKE #again love the thought of her choosing yang in the emerald forest and being interested from day 1 #tho i do think she was drawn to yang in v1 and felt an affinity towards her i wouldn't say it developed into 'realized' love til later #she had love for yang which adam obviously took note of - especially the similarities between the two of them -#but do i think blake realized she loved yang until adam was threatening to take her away? nope #honestly i think she squashed it down after v3c11 when she ran away - compartmentalized and told herself that 'yang deserves better' etc and #didn't let herself think about it at all bc what was the point? she just focused on everything else going on and didn't acknowledge #then when they saw each other at the end of v5 - imo that was the turning point #that was it #their feelings rushed to the surface - broke through all the anger and suppression and grief #and they've been falling for each other even through all the issues they worked out from v6 onward #the end that's my theory and i want to hear all of yours too #RWBY #Bumbleby #RWBY 9 #RWBY Volume 9 #Blake x Yang #Blake Belladonna

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silvreflames · 1 year

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things you'll be hard pressed to learn about nesta from nesta so i am telling you, pt 1:

the grooming she was made to endure at the hands of her own mother to prepare her for marriage, first in the hopes of securing her family's place in society and then in saving her family from poverty

#aka phase one in the death of an openly soft-hearted nesta #her mother did everything in her power to shape nesta into ~wifey material~ at the expense of a healthy relationship with her daughter #and also at the detriment to said daughter #and as much as nesta had been taught that her only worth was what she could do for others #particularly her family but also for men (i.e. a future husband).#in some ways. there is freedom in fulfilling this sense of duty that was practically beaten into her from a very young age #if she can just save her family. if she can protect her sisters.#nesta was to be the 'breeding mare' of her family. that was what she was raised to be. in order to take care of her sisters #to save them from the fate of a loveless marriage of a cruel husband of the scorn of her parents and of society #and when she failed again and again to be successful in securing this future for all of them #she was subjected to her mother's ire. her father's disdain. her sisters' unspoken disappointment.#the last thing her mother said to her before she died was that she was born wrong.#that she was a waste.#and then every person she met after that said essentially the same thing in one way or another #and i think that this is the exact way that nesta views herself #privately of course though it wouldn't be difficult to see this if anyone bothered to pay attention #and even though she is no longer shackled to the human's way of life and those societal expectations attached to it #she still upholds the expectation that she must be the one who sacrifices in order to keep her sisters safe #that's why she hated rh.ysand [disgust]. because he took away f.eyre's choice which meant that nesta didn't keep her sister safe #she was made fae and humans hate fae and there was no chance she could save her family #i have a lot to say about the misogyny that is rampant in this stupid series but it's also deeply connected to who nesta is as a person #why she is the way she is #and how i will use it to unwrap her. to see her through her healing process.#desperately desperately itching for an emerie. for a gwyn. perhaps i will drabble some things to make up for it #they are so integral to nesta's growth and healing #a sisterhood that chose her and that she chose #one that she can love right because she never could with her blood sisters #emerie and gwyn love nesta so much just the way she is and i love them too for it!!!!!!!!!!

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seaweedstarshine · 1 day

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Sometimes I think of Amy Pond, who grew up being called mad by those who wielded the word as a tool of exclusion and shame —

Amy Pond, who though forced into the hands of four psychiatrists, still clung to that which they called madness until those systems which elevate psychosocial conformity above humanity stripped it from her —

Amy Pond, whose imaginary friend reappeared for a single hour after twelve years and reignited that faith before disappearing for two more years —

Amy Pond, who spent those those two years under the same implicit threat ingrained in her through psychiatric violence, and thus began to believe the man who stopped the invasion was “just a madman with a box,” only for him to agree, and to also call her “mad, impossible Amy Pond,” reframing madness as non-negative for the first time in her life —

Amy Pond, who ignored the disembodied voice of her imaginary friend even as she ran away with him for real, who still lived each day with the traumatic internalization of deviancy dictated upon her by the psychiatric-industrial complex that shaped her from childhood —

Amy Pond, who wouldn't acknowledge the Doctor's voice, such that it took an Angel in her eye that was literally killing her to ensure she couldn't reality check herself —

Amy Pond, who stood before a room which muttered about “the psychiatrists we brought her to,” and though afraid, escaped their rigid parameters of acceptable existence.

#I like seeing it as indicating she began hearing his voice when he was gone for all those years! why else wouldn't she say anything?#actually psychotic Amy agenda #Amy Pond #eleventh doctor #reclaimed language #oh look its another antipsychiatry themed doctor who post #sumn abt in Fairies At The Bottom Of The Garden audio AND Imaginary Enemies comic we see Amelia bein called slurs against psychotic people #(shes called psycho in both)#like!!! and SO MUCH OF AMYS STORY is about her claiming her agency in ways that previous companions weren't allowed to-#companions whose status as a Wife was a signifier of an to end of their value individually- 'this is no place for a married woman' etc #in some cases Wife-ness forced upon them *as* a denial of agency 'I spent all that time trying to find you I'm not going back now!' etc #whereas Amys story deconstructs that; Amys “Choice” is an illusion- Amy being a Wife doesn't demote her agency as an companion #anyways I love that aspect of reclaimed agency for Amy but ALSO #“madness” as an expression of agency against systems of oppression is SO relevant. the mind defends itself and the alternative isnt better #the oppressive system in this case being ableist structures and the psychiatric system ITSELF which is a whole other layer #the moral being that even if the Doctor WAS a delusion? he'd still be a needed coping mechanism for a child who says “ppl always leave”#and instead of examining her feelings of abandonment they insist 'aLiENs DoNt ExIsT' as seen in the 'sTaRs DoNt ExIsT' psychiatrist in TBB #they don't care that she's in PAIN- why would they?- they just care that she's 'abnormal' and therefore not deserving of humanity #(eleventh) doctor is neurodivergent tag #I mean technically this is about Amy but I once (twice) used that tag on the post about the Master. its the spirit of it!#and Amy Pond + her Raggedy Doctor as “mad” people is very *chefs kiss*#((you know what im putting the tag on my last Amy post :D ))#Mels experienced this very differently and I'll make a post about her at some point- I just wanna make sure my points are got across better #sumn abt Amelia's “crazy” was Mels' “delinquency.” Amy treated as if she doesn't know her own life while Mels treated as threatening #sumn abt adultification of Black girls while Amy is infantilized #Amy Pond who could rewrite reality in a reborn universe because she grew up with a Crack in her wall that no one believed was special —#ableism #saneism #unreality #because I mean Amy's stand against psychiatric dehumanization was to REWRITE THE UNIVERSE with her Crack powers

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lilahisntsadanymore · 6 months

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Growing up with a deatheater father doesn't teach you much about emotions, so when Theo finds himself developing an infatuation with a muggle-born, he thinks she gave him a love potion.

Pairing: Theo Nott x granger!fem!reader

Words count: 1.9k

Warnings: jealous Harry

There is a 2nd part!! <3

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

Unveiled Desires

It was strange to him. So strange how he went from mocking, annoying and occasionally bullying her every step she takes to secretly wanting her. Wanting to have her, or even needing her.

He didn't know how or when it happened, but one day he realized she was constantly in his head. It creeped up on him in small steps and eventually he had developed an infatuation for the girl.

Of course nobody knew about it, Theo wouldn't dare telling anyone. He just kept with his antics, hoping the obsession will somewhat disappear one day. Unfortunately, the more he tried to get rid of this feeling, the more he gave it power, the more it grew.

But he couldn't be with her. He couldn't be with a mudblood.

But he wanted to be with her. The more he thought about it, the less he cared about the blood status. He cursed at himself for these thoughts. Raised by a deatheater father, he would get disowned for dating anyone who wasn't a pureblood.

"Granger, can I talk to you for a second?" A question left his mouth as he approached the Golden Trio. Who was better to talk to about Y/n than her older sister?

The three Gryffindors looked at Theo as if he wasn't good in the head. Just casually wanting to have a chat, a normal chat, with someone outside of his social circle. Pretty unusual for a Slytherin.

"What is it?" Harry asked protectively.

"I was talking to Granger. I need to talk privately."

Hermione looked at Harry and Ron, exchanging suspecting glances. Eventually she spoke, "Alright, but make it quick."

"Great, let's go." Theo started walking, but Hermione stood in her place.

"Where are you going?"

"Somewhere they," he gestured to Harry and Ron, "aren't gonna eavesdrop."

Hermione crossed her arms on her chest, a knowing expression on her face.

Theo raised his hands, "It's not a trap again, I swear."

The girl sighed and walked after her rival.

Hermione and Theodore weren't fond of each other not only because of their houses and their blood statuses, but also because they were academic rivals. Both of them were extremely competitive. Since first year they aspired to be better than one another in pretty much everything.

"Can we stop already?" The girl asked. "I'm pretty sure they won't ear us from here."

"Alright, alright." Theo agreed. "But I need you to promise me you won't tell anybody about it."

"Why me? Why would you trust a Gryffindor with keeping a secret for you?"

Theo lowered his voice to a whisper, "Because it's about your sister."

"What?!" Hermione's voice was the opposite of a whisper. "What have you done to her?!"

The boy gestured telling her to lower her voice. "No, I didn't do anything. She has done...something."

"What on Earth could that possibly be?" A little more quiet, but still unpleasantly surprised, she decided to listen to him.

One last time, Theo looked around to make sure there's nobody there who could be a witness to what he was about to say.

"She used some spell on me." He accused. "Or put something in my food, my drink."

Hermione scoffed with laughter. "You must be joking. You bully her for whole five years, but one time she pays you back for it, it's an issue?"

"Not like that." He took a second to gather his thoughts. "Granger, do you remember how we learnt about amortentia few weeks ago? I think Y/n gave it to me."

Hermione started at the boy for a moment and then burst out with laughter. Y/n wasn't the issue, there was no way a fifth year would be able to make amortentia. Not even Y/n Granger.

Theodore felt annoyed and offended by Hermione's reaction. He looked at her with disgust. "What is so funny to you about it, mu-, Granger?"

Noticing how he almost called her a slur, her expression immediately became serious. "Seriously? You know what, deal with it by yourself. I don't even know why you're telling me all of this."

"Why? Because you have to talk to her, tell her to do something about it! Tell her to stop it!"

Hermione got a brilliant idea.

"You know, I've heard professor Slughorn had a remedy for amortentia."

"Yeah, and I'll end up in the hospital wing like Weasley."

"It was poisoned mead, not the amortentia cure itself. You can ask him to make one from the ingredients in the classroom."

"I will," Theo scoffed, "look at you being useful for the first time in your life."

Without another word, Hermione walked away. "Boys..." She muttered to herself.

"Don't tell anyone I told you this!"

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

"What?! He likes me?!" Y/n asked with blush on her face. "Theodore Nott likes me? The boy that has been bullying me for the past five years?"

"And the thinks it's because you gave him amortentia." Hermione giggled.

Y/n wouldn't ever think that he could be into her and the whole story that her sister had told her was simply unbelievable. But Hermione had no business in lying to her very own little sister, especially not about that.

"Does anyone else know about this?"

"Not yet, but I talked him into asking Slughorn for the cure! I suppose he'll do this tomorrow after class, as soon as possible."

"Who are you and what have you done to my sister?"

The girls were sitting alone in the common room and as Y/n laughed, Ron and Harry walked in.

"What are you two laughing about?" Harry asked, ready to hear that story.

"Can I tell them?" Hermione looked at Y/n. The younger Granger nodded. "Nott likes Y/n."

The girls and Ron laughed, meanwhile Harry stood there with his lips in a thin line, far away from laughing.

"The best part is," Hermione continued, "he thinks Y/n gave him amortentia!"

"What?" Harry spoke eventually, his voice a bit more surprised than it should be. "Y/n, did you give amortentia to Nott?"

"No, why would you accuse me of this?!" The youngest girl defended herself. "Is it that unbelievable that he can fancy me?"

"I mean... You're a muggleborn... And-"

"And what?! Does that mean I'm not worthy of that? We don't know him, maybe he doesn't believe in this whole blood purity thing."

"He does. That's why he hasn't asked you out. And he never will. Because they're all the same."

Y/n's eyes became a little glossy, the tears ready to start flowing anytime. "Are they, though? And you're saying this. You, whose godfather was Sirius Black."

"Sirius was different!"

"We don't know because we don't know what Theo is like!"

"Theo? It was Nott for the past few years that he was tormenting you," Harry put an emphasis on the word bullying, "now he fancies you and he becomes Theo?"

"I would actually give him a chance. It's not his fault that he was born into a blood purity obsessed family."

"Don't you think that's a little pathetic? Running into his hands the moment you find out he might fancy you meanwhile you had chances to date...other Gryffindors."

"Pathetic? You call me pathetic?"

"I didn't call you pathetic, I said what you do is-"

A sound of a slap filled the room, but the following silence spoke even louder. Y/n looked Harry in the eyes, a light red mark on his cheek that her hand left.

Harry could see and sense that it was too much, he said unnecessary words. He regretted them, but he just couldn't stop them from coming out.

The Golden Trio watched Y/n run upstairs. She was so glad nobody else was in the bedroom yet.

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

"Excuse me, professor," Theo walked up to Slughorn after the class on the following day.

All the other students were slowly exiting the room, Harry's eyes fixed on the Slytherin standing by the teacher's desk.

"Yes, Theodore?" Slughorn asked. "Do you have some more bright insights you'd like to share with me?" He was clearly happy to have this conversation.

"I actually need help, professor."

The man's expression dropped. "Yes? Do you have a problem?"

"I'm worried that I've been given amortentia."

Slughorn's eyes widened. He was surprised or even shocked. "Are you sure? I remember seeing other people under the influence of several love potions and you don't quite match the criteria."

"There's this girl who I can't stop thinking about... I suspect she has given it to me."

"Who that might be?"

Theo waited until all the other students exit the classroom before he said the name.

"Y/n Granger."

Y/n stopped in her tracks just as he was about to enter the potions classroom. She was about to show the teacher a part of her project, wanting to consult the texts she has written. Instead, she stopped and decided to listen to the conversation.

"Ah, she's one of the best students in her year," Slughorn said proudly, "but I assure you - she wouldn't do that to you."

"How can you be sure, professor?"

"Well, could you describe your symptoms, Theodore?"

"Whatever I do, Y/n is on my mind," the boy admitted, "I can't eat, I can't sleep, I zone out thinking about her. It's not normal, I've never experienced it before."

The teacher gave his student a sympathetic smile. "My dear boy, you might be experiencing the actual feeling of being in love."

"What? And how could it have been caused? Was it a love potion, after all? Maybe a spell?"

"It's a part of muggle science, biology. The chemicals in your brain cause it and it's not something you can control. It happens when it happens. A truly beautiful feeling."

Theo's mouth twisted into a dissatisfied grimace. "Is there anything I can do about it?"

"You can talk to the girl about it, for example," Slughorn looked at the door and shouted, "come in, Y/n!"

Y/n cursed to herself in her thoughts. How could he know she was there?

The girl walked in shyly, holding a paper in her hands. "I wanted to show you my paper, professor," the girl spoke, "if there's anything you think I should change or... anything."

As the girl handed the paper to the teacher, she looked at Theo. They stood dangerously close to each other. The silence between the was so loud, Y/n was praying for the teacher to say something. Anything.

"Amazing, Mrs Granger," he spoke eventually, "although the Draught of Living Dead is an extremely difficult potion to make. I'm glad you're so ambitious, but I'd suggest you get help from someone more experienced."

"I'm pretty sure I can do it on my own." Y/n assured.

"Maybe Mr. Nott here could help you. The sixth year has been just learning about this potion, actually. Theodore, would you be so kind and help Mrs Granger?"

Suddenly, Theo's gaze somewhat softened. There was no more disgust in his eyes. When he stood so close to Y/n, he wondered why did he act the way he did. Why did he do all the mean things to her. Maybe he had always liked her, but didn't want to admit it, even to himself alone.

"Yes, sure," he said, "I can help."

Y/n felt happy. For some reason, she didn't dislike Theo for all the things he did. She secretly always liked him, he was attractive, and she would even sometimes daydream about the day he would finally talk to her like a normal person. Maybe the day has finally come.

#theo nott #theodore nott #slytherin boys #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfic #theo nott fanfic

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holybibly · 3 months

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ℂ𝕣𝕒𝕫𝕪 𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕞 | 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕚 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕣𝕖: smut, idol!Au, s2l, fragment of life

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 12,9k

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Seven times you've been lucky, on the eighth Song Mingi from Ateez shows you a side of himself that his fans will probably never get to know.

𝕎𝔸ℝℕ𝕀ℕ𝔾: Pervert Idol! Mingi, Unprotected sex, stomach bulge, fingering, degrading, pet names, size kink, face fucking, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, pussy slapping, oral, overstimulation, somnophilia, multiple orgasms, сreampie, sexual audio recording, rough sex, praise kink and more.

𝔸/ℕ: Wrote this overnight, it's really crazy. Gosh, I am so excited to show you the handsome Mingi who has become a favourite for an overnight train ride poll. I hope it lives up to your expectations. This is one of the 4 pieces I've been working on. It brings us closer to a tender and sensual smut with Seonghwa (I'm still suffering from the idea).

I'll make a masterlist this weekend.

Comments, reblogs and questions are always welcome. I'm completely open to communication, so don't be shy bunnies. We have a safe space here.

Lots of love to you all. Have fun on your night train ride with Mingi.

dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

"Take care, darling; you never know what may happen. Especially in the night." Asa's voice was soft, but with a note of insistence.

"Asa, you don't have to worry so much. It's just a night train; I've done it a thousand times." You sigh tiredly, knowing it was pointless to argue with Asa, and yet, in a way, she was right. You never know what might happen at any given moment in your life.

"There's always a first time, Y/N. Take care, and be sure to text me when you get on the train."

"Sure, I will see you soon." You pull the sleeves of your shortened jumper tighter as you press the call disconnect button.

The night air is cool and fresh, dancing on your skin like a light breeze, crawling under the hem of your short skirt, tickling the soft, milky skin of your bare thighs. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, and you begin to regret your choice of clothing. It's too open and too revealing, both for the time of day and for the situation.

But it doesn't matter; the train is warm and cosy in its own way, and soon you'll be relaxing on the soft seats of the dark compartment under the peaceful rhythmic rocking, but most importantly, you'll be alone without the noise and bustle. Travelling to Tokyo is great, and you enjoy every second, but the crowds get tiring and the incessant noise starts to stress you out.

That is why an overnight train journey is a nice and relaxing change of pace.

It's a spontaneous trip to another city, just for a few days—a place quieter and more secluded than the never-sleeping Tokyo. Asa is waiting for you to finally join her, having travelled there the day before yesterday. Rumour has it that this is also the town where you're most likely to find the most Korean idols, who have come to relax in the luxurious hot springs.

They always come here to spend their long-awaited holidays without the constant camera surveillance and screaming fans. You didn't care if you met any of the celebrities there. Seeing a pretty face here and there was a nice bonus, but the main purpose of your trip was the hot springs and a few gourmet restaurants with high user ratings.

It's not that you were totally ignorant of idols; you were aware of many groups thanks to Asa and her crush on pretty boys, but you were a realist, and it was just stupid to have rosy dreams for a guy who had never seen you in his life, and if he had, he probably wouldn't remember you. That's why it didn't matter to you at all whether or not you met any of the pretty idols along the way.

You always thought night trains were the best way to travel. Travelling during the day is too hectic, too noisy, and too impractical. Instead of sitting in a stuffy metal box on wheels and wasting precious time, you could be doing something useful. There's always the chance of a night's rest, even if it's just for a few hours, and the next morning you'll be somewhere else, full of energy and good humour.

This was the seventh time you'd travelled by overnight train, and so far you'd considered yourself lucky. You were so grateful that you'd never had to share the confined space of your compartment with anyone else. The prospect of sleeping next to a stranger wasn't the most appealing one, and it would no doubt make you very nervous.

You cross your fingers in the hope that your luck will hold this time around. As you walk down the aisle of the train, you shift your gaze from your ticket to the small numbers on the tightly closed compartment doors. You try to find your seat. When you finally find it, you exhale with relief and push open the heavy sliding door. You are glad to be able to sit down and stretch your legs, taking off the most uncomfortable shoes in the world. It's first-class. The door opens silently and smoothly, allowing a thin strip of light from the narrow corridor into the secluded compartment, illuminating it with a bright yellow glow.

You've never thought about sharing your space with anyone else because you're so used to being alone. Except for a few passengers who seem to share your point of view, most people prefer to travel during the day, so the night trains are usually almost empty. Once your eyes get used to the changing light, you can't help but gasp at what you see.

"Oh!"

You're not alone. There's someone else in the semi-darkness of your compartment.

Someone from whom it seems impossible to take your eyes off, no matter how rude it might be of you to do so. There's a man sitting on the seat directly in front of you, with his legs spread wide open and his mobile phone held loosely in one hand. He is an incredibly attractive guy. You quickly look away, embarrassed that you're openly checking him out, as your eyes slide down his body. He's dressed in a black suit that hugs his thick thighs. God, this is embarrassing. His jacket is folded beside him, leaving him wearing a single black shirt and a few buttons undone on his chest, contrasting beautifully with his smooth golden skin.

For the second time that night, your eyes met his, and you gasped. You somehow know who those eyes belong to, and who doesn't? Two puddles of melted milk chocolate, the soft, sugary look of puppy dog eyes—Song Mingi, a gorgeous, cheeky rapper from Ateez. Oh, boy.

You swallow loudly at the realisation that your eyes aren't the only ones analysing the stranger in front of you.

"Good evening." You bow and lower your head as you realise that you've clearly been staring at the idol all this time. Suddenly, you feel so ashamed that you can't even imagine meeting his gaze again. In return, you get a small hum of approval from him and a polite nod of the head from him.

You finally decide to go inside and close the door behind you after a few seconds of awkwardly shuffling from foot to foot. The lights inside are rather dim, a bit of a nuisance despite the fact that they hardly illuminate your compartment at all, and you wonder if he would mind if you asked him to turn them off completely at some point. Eventually, it starts to make your sensitive eyes ache, but you don't want to make Mingi feel uncomfortable by asking for it.

The atmosphere was already awkward and strange, and you didn't want to make it worse. He must have decided to take the night train for the same reasons you did. And here you are, the two of you, strangers, although can you really call a guy the whole world knows a stranger? In the semi-darkness of a night compartment, without prying eyes or cameras.

The situation seemed to be stressful, and that's why you were so grateful that up until now you hadn't had to share your space with anyone else on overnight journeys. Even so, there was something strangely intoxicating and exhilarating about the whole thing.

Does it look like your luck has run out, or have you managed to grab it by the tail?

You take your bag off your shoulder and tiptoe up to put it on the luggage rack with your back to him. Unfortunately for you, you can't get to it. Right now you're cursing your short stature for looking utterly ridiculous in front of a good-looking guy, and not just any guy, but Song Mingi himself. You can feel the muscles in your legs tense up in pain as you try to stretch yourself up, and you have the feeling that the bag in your hands is getting heavier and heavier the more you try to put it on the shelf. It's so embarrassing that you let out a muffled, awkward laugh.

"I'll give you a hand with that." The unexpected touch of the palm of your hand against your lower back upsets your balance, and your body jerks.

Your head jumps up, goose bumps running up your arms and creeping down your back as you realise that Mingi is now standing next to you, too close to be considered decent. The scent of his woody, tart perfume fills the small space between you, and you long to bury your face in his broad, muscular chest and take a deep breath of him.

He easily takes the bag from you and sets it on top of the top compartment, the touch of his other hand still palpable—hot, confident, and somehow possessive—as it slides down, almost to the curve of your butt.

You look down and suddenly realise how far your skirt has been pulled up. It now exposes most of your milky thighs and barely covers your bottom. Trying to look as decent as possible, you pull down the hem of your skirt with a soft squeak to get your clothes back in place. Your cheeks are flushed with shame and embarrassment. Looking up again, you realise that Mingi is watching you intently, watching every move of yours.

"You're so tiny." He says this, tilting his head to one side and letting the corner of his soft, plump pink lips curve up in a smirk.

Your heart flutters at the thought, perhaps a little more than it should be doing. You would never have thought that you would feel a strange mixture of emotions—something between excitement and extreme embarrassment—over something so trivial, perhaps even offensive.

"Maybe you're the one that's too tall." You realise this and immediately feel sorry for yourself, desperately wanting to put your hand over your mouth. God, can't you just make yourself look even stupider in his eyes? You shouldn't have said that aloud.

In response to your words, Mingi hums and raises an eyebrow. There is a gleam of amusement in his beautiful brown eyes; your comment seems to amuse him. Your cheeks heat up from the blush that is spreading over them, but you're grateful for the playful reaction; it makes the situation a little less weird and awkward.

You really should sit back in your seat and shut up so you don't say too much, something along the lines of, "You look absolutely stunning in that suit; can I sit on your lap?".

Eventually, you turn your attention to the hand still on your hip, and the sight of his long fingers adorned with massive rings makes your knees tremble more than you'd like to admit.

When he pulls away, you find that the loss of his touch is making you feel as cold as ice. You quickly come to your senses and sit down on the opposite side of the idol, who follows your lead and settles down in his own seat.

You take out your phone and text Asa, as promised. God, you'll have so much to talk about when you meet. Awkwardly crumpling the hem of your skirt, you wait for the train to depart. For a long minute, there is silence in the compartment—an utterly awkward, embarrassing silence.

Every time you cast a quick glance towards Mingi, you notice that his eyes don't seem to leave you for a second. He presses the tip of his tongue lightly against the corner of his plump, beautiful lips, as if analysing your every move.

It makes you nervous to be in your own skin.

"I'm Mingi." Your ears perk up in an instant as soon as he starts to speak again.

When he says his name, his voice sounds so soft, soothing, and confident. You can't remember the last time you've been so attracted to another man's voice. It makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter, and maybe, just maybe, it makes you squeeze your thighs a little harder than you should.

This is messed up.

"I know." You answer quietly. This is a fucking embarrassment. You decide you've humiliated yourself enough in front of him, so after a moment, you add. "Y/N, nice to meet you."

"Ah, so you know, eh?" He smiles brightly, and you somehow melt. "And here I was thinking' we were just strangers to each other. That's not a problem for you, Y/N, is it?" The way he says your name takes your breath away from you. It's something in his nature—a hidden but imposing dominance, so deep with a quiet note of authority. There were darker layers lurking beneath that image of sweet charm.

You have no idea why he has such an effect on you, but it's safe to say the overwhelming feeling is not entirely unwelcome.

"No, no, it's fine." You wave your hands in an awkward manner. "It should have been my turn to ask if it was OK. At a time like this, I guess you didn't expect anyone else to be using the train." Your cheeks flushed, and you nervously bit your lower lip.

"How cute."

You bring your hand up to your face and press it against your hot cheeks, trying to cool them down a little. Cute! It's a real miracle that you manage to stop yourself from squealing enthusiastically.

"Are you going travelling, Y/N?" He tilts his head to the side in an interested way, like a curious puppy, and you can't help but smile in response to that.

"Yes, to the hot springs." Looking anywhere but at Mingi, you reply humbly.

"Ah, I see. Takayu Onsen?"

"Tamagawa Onsen, actually."

At your words, the idol nods understandingly, and a dazzling smile appears on his lips. God, can he get any more handsome?

"Of course it's Tamagawa. Somehow I can't imagine you anywhere else; this place is your kind of place. Then you're stuck with me. I'm going there too; the boys and I have to spend a few days there before the concerts." He says it in such an easy and casual way. As if you've known each other for a long time.

"Um, it's quite a long trip. Are you sure you'll be comfortable?" You ask Mingi, vaguely hoping that you'll be able to sneak away from him and find yourself comfortably alone again. For some reason, his presence makes you feel very uncomfortable and makes you tingle. There's something special about him, but you can't quite put your finger on it.

"It's fine. Really, don't worry." Mingi settled himself more comfortably in his seat and spread his long legs a little further apart, causing the tight fabric of his suit trousers to stretch and outline the contours of his gorgeous, muscular thighs. His whole posture seemed to say, "You're not getting rid of me that easily." "Actually, I'm the one who should be asking if your boyfriend is upset that you will spent the night with another man." There is something about the way he says it that makes you tense up inside, but you ignore it completely and answer quietly instead, crossing your legs shyly.

"I've no boyfriend." And without knowing it, you give him exactly the answer that Mingi wanted. "I'm just on a road trip with a friend." Shying away from making full eye contact with him, his gaze so intense and focused, your fingers play with the hem of your skirt as you speak.

When he speaks again, you can almost hear the smile in Mingi's deep voice.

"Then I hope you'll enjoy it fully."

Silence falls over you once more. You keep looking at your shoes, desperately wanting to take them off and curl up on the soft seat. But Mingi's presence prevents you from relaxing completely. As the train sets in motion, you give a slight jerk. Midnight, it's now. It will take about eight hours to get to Tamagawa, and you should arrive at the station in the morning.

You let your eyes slide down from your shoes to Mingi's legs in stealth. His thighs are so muscular and strong that he could probably squeeze you between them, and you wouldn't be able to move an inch, trapped as you were under his tall, strong body. You feel warm between your legs, and you bite your lower lip, hoping Mingi is too busy phoning to notice you're staring at his thighs. And you have to push away the thought of how nice it would be to ride one of those beautiful, thick thighs and rub your pussy against it.

"This is a beautiful pendant. It looks good on you." The sound of Mingi's voice makes you jerk, and you raise your eyes to him fearfully.

Instinctively, you press your fingers against the gleaming heart of crystal that sits on your chest. It's massive—heavy on your chest, glimmering cold, hard to miss.

"Thanks; it's my favourite too." The compliment takes you completely by surprise, but at the same time, it brings a slight, sweet pout to your lips.

Mingi can't help but think about what that pendant is going to look like between your naked tits while you're being scolded like there's no tomorrow. He can bet that it's going to be fucking amazing. His plump lips curl up in a smirk.

"Do you always wear it?" Contextual question: When you get fucked, do you take it off?

"Yes. It's my lucky charm." As if to warm it up, your fingers wrap around the large crystal, rubbing it a little. "It always brings me good luck."

"How appropriate." Mingi observes, chuckling grimly.

For an idol, Mingi seems inordinately interested in learning more about you, but you naively chalk it up to a trivial lack of social contact and a limited opportunity to see the world without the constant scrutiny of managers and the attention of cameras.

You're too enamoured with his sweet, playful personality, reminiscent of a big, soft puppy. You'll fancy yourself under his scrutiny and answer all his questions, even the ones that make you blink in confusion or blush hotly. Mingi is a real sweetheart, and you can totally agree with his fans: He's such a nice, nice guy. Little do you know about him...

He does it almost mechanically, moving his hands so you can't take your eyes off them, twirling the massive silver rings on his long phalanges, touching his plush, juicy lips with his fingertips, and noticing the beautiful gel on his nails. Your body reacts to his every move; your lower abdomen feels pleasantly tight, and you can feel a faint throbbing between your legs every time he smiles at you, making you squeeze your thighs together and squirm nervously in your seat.

"Sorry for asking so many questions. You know it's not always easy to talk to someone." He lowers his eyes shyly and bites his plump lip. You immediately try to put his concern at ease.

"I get it; being an idol must be hard, having to be in control all the time."

Damn, you were so right; you'd run away from him as soon as you opened the door to the compartment if you only knew what dirty, lustful thoughts he's having about you and how his sweet smile hides a passionate desire to push you into the padded seat and fuck you so hard you can't think or walk.

But Mingi was good at it. He could control his face and body very well, thanks to Seonghwa's great example. He had taught him only the best.

"You must be tired; if you want, we can turn off the light and you can go to bed." Mingi said, noticing that you were rubbing your eyes more and more, stumbling over your own words, and yawning all the time. "You can trust me; I'll take care of you, Y/N." The tone is so sweet, too sweet, to hide the true meaning of what he's saying: Sweetheart, I want to jerk off to your sleepy, pretty face as you relax in my presence—so seductive and vulnerable.

That deep, honeyed tone inevitably makes your thighs clench, but with it comes a flood of guilt as you feel your panties get wet, and dirty thoughts put you in such an uncomfortable position that you have to fidget awkwardly on the seat, praying by all that is holy that your embarrassing arousal goes unnoticed and you don't leave a wet spot on the seat.

"Are you sure?" You're terribly tired from the day. The offer is so tempting, and Mingi is so charming and respectful. A real gentleman.

Mingi smiles softly, but it is a smile that looks a little predatory at the edges as his big, hot palm comes down on your bare knee. It sends a shiver down the length of your skin.

"Sure, go to bed, doll."

You feel yourself blushing again, but you can't tell why—the heavy, hot touch of his hand against your skin or the caressing nickname. God, this guy is a threat. You give a slow nod and turn your gaze to the dimly lit wall sconce on the wall. Mingi follows your eyes and reaches up to turn it off, plunging the entire compartment into a pleasant darkness. The faint, diffused light of the moon through the window is the only source of light that allows you to see each other's faces. A smile of gratitude is on your face in response to his actions.

"Thanks, I had no idea how much my eyes were hurting."

"You're welcome, doll."

You try to ignore the way his voice seems to sink lower. It takes on such a velvety, dark tone that it makes you even wetter between your legs. You pull back. Mingi has been so sweet and polite to you all this time; you should be ashamed of these feelings.

As you lean back in the empty seat beside you and close your heavy eyelids, the touch of his hand fades. You feel a strange comfort in Mingi's company, despite your earlier apprehension at being so vulnerable in the company of a stranger. Despite being a world-famous star and just a damn gorgeous man, he really is so kind and attentive to you. You do not dare to doubt what he says. Mingi has promised to take care of you, and you are strangely comforted by the thought. In fact, he really is a very caring man. You begin to suspect that this is true for all of them.

Before you close your eyes again, you look at Mingi. His dark gaze is fixed on you, and there is something raw in the depths of those chocolate-coloured irises of his. The moonlight falling on him makes his chiselled face look sharper and sexier, and there is no longer the sweet smile and adorable puppy-dog expression on his handsome features. It makes you take a sharp breath before your fluttering eyelids stay closed, weighed down by sleep. Your whole body relaxes, and you let yourself drift off to sleep, lulled by the peaceful rocking of the train and the calm presence of Mingi.

Mingi just can't take his eyes off you. You look so tiny, so soft and juicy with your plump arse and the most delicious pair of tits he's ever seen. They're perfect to hold in his hands and his hands are just itching to squeeze them into his palms, feel their weight, pull on those pink nipples until you start wriggling and sobbing. Oh, how he wants to hear the sweet sounds you make as he fills you with his cock, or even better, as you moan out his name.

For tonight at least, he just wants to have you. Mingi isn't at all picky about where he wants to get laid; a night train isn't the worst option. He's been fucked in more uncomfortable places than this. But that wouldn't be very nice of him. Would it? He said he'd look after you while you slept so innocently in front of him in that seductive little skirt. He wonders if you're wearing lace or silk knickers. It's probably silk, because you look as if you're enjoying the light and soft touch of the silk fabric against your sweet pussy. You must also be very sensitive.

Y/N. He is absolutely mesmerised by you. Everything about you is so enticing. The way your round cheeks blush, the beautiful way you smile, and especially the way you squeeze your thighs together every time he turns to you. You are a little slut. Mingi is absolutely delighted with how he's making you feel. He makes you nervous. He wants nothing more than to get under your skin even more.

But if Mingi has learned anything by now, it's that despite your best efforts, you're not a very subtle person. In fact, you're easy to read. Your petite body gives you away all the time. Your teeth bite your plump lower lip until it's swollen and red. Your eyes never leave his hands as he deliberately plays with his rings, causing you to lose your train of thought. You're probably thinking about him using his fingers to stretch your tight hole or using his fingers to fuck your soft, wet mouth. Mingi's sure he'll have to spend enough time getting you to take three fingers in your cunt before lowering you on his cock, and maybe you'll even let him play with your virgin arse. Hell, he'll beg you if he must. Fuck his pride at the prospect of being the first to fuck your plump arse. He's going to have to make a video of himself fucking you so stupid and so deep. San is going to go mad when he sees your juicy arse blushing under the palms of his hands and and jiggling seductively every time he enters you up to your balls.

You are definitely something special.

That's what Mingi tells himself over and over and over again. He's just reaching out to you. Nothing more than that.

Just like he promised, he'll take care of you. You'll feel good, and getting his dick wet will be a nice bonus for him.

He takes another good look at your beautiful face as he leans forward in his seat. Your lips are wet, plump and parted, and he can't help but imagine how beautiful they would look stretched around his big cock. You're going to have to practise getting yourself to swallow his dick whole, you probably won't get more than a quarter of him the first time. The thought of it is the cause of the salivation in his mouth.

Your eyelashes are touching the top of your cheeks, your soft dark hair is beautifully curled up in ringlets, and Mingi wants to mess it up and pull it out. You look absolutely angelic. A real doll. Mingi has never seen an angel before. He can't be blamed for his desire to have a touch and to defile.

Idol or not, Mingi is just a man.

It all begins with a small movement of his fingers over the kneecap of his knee to the top of his thigh. He can feel how his touch raises the goose bumps on your skin. Mingi feels bolder and lowers his palm all the way down to your thigh, letting it rest gently on your body, and then gently reaches up to the inside of your thigh, making you shiver. At the sight, Mingi licks his lips. It would be easier if he came closer. Would it?

As he kneels down, he places his other hand on your leg, now touching both of your thighs. Your skirt rises with each touch of Mingi's eager hands, lifting the fabric higher and higher each time. He glances over your voluptuous body, his gaze lingering on the spot where your sweater has risen, exposing the soft skin of your stomach and the peeking lower half of your bra. Fuck. He can't quite make out what it is in the dark, but he knows it must be the creamy silk that covers your full breasts. That makes him dig his fingertips harder into your skin.

You move in your sleep, shifting until you're on your back, giving Mingy full access without even wanting it. It's as if you want to make it even easier for his dirty hands to touch your chaste, tantalised body. When he sees an opportunity, Mingy never says no. Carefully, he slides one hand under your skirt while the other continues to massage your thigh in a soothing way. Confirming his earlier thought, his fingers are impatient and run briefly over your panties. They're silk, and they're wet as hell. You're soaked through, and he's already decided that he's definitely taking your panties with him. He'll be sure to jerk off in them when he has a bit of free time later.

"Oh, dolly, you're so damn wet." Mingi moans hoarsely as his fingers slowly slide over the wet material, rubbing it. The furrowed brow quickly disappeared, and the doll's lips parted in a perfect 'o', a short sob escaping from them. "Precious little one."

Your legs twitch in an attempt to squeeze Mingi's forearm, but he quickly calms you, spreading your thighs with his free hand and smiling carnivorously at the soft squeal that escapes your lips as you feel long fingers play with your plump clit through your underwear. If the fans knew what their adored idol was doing, they'd be going crazy. But they probably already knew. Considering the number of female fans they've fucked over the years, the information has leaked out somewhere in the tight circle of their fandom.

Mingi decides he doesn't like the silk barrier. He slides his hand under the silk of your panties and touches the wet warmth of your cunt, making his trousers suddenly feel too tight around his crotch.

As if he'd just discovered a new toy that he wanted to touch and explore before playing with it, he let himself explore the wetness. You are soaking wet, and Mingi can feel that he is gradually losing all self-control and all control over himself. He wants to taste you; he wants to feel you on his tongue; he doesn't even mind rubbing his face against you like a dog. The pressure of his thumb against your throbbing clit finally seems to wake you up. You gasp and begin to open your sleepy eyes. You look around in confusion. Then you let out a startled cry as you noticed Mingi crouching beside you, one hand between your thighs.

"Shhhh." As your legs begin to convulse, Mingi quickly reassures you. "It's all right, doll; it's just me. You can go back to sleeping if you want to. I'll take care of the rest." He whispers it in a velvety, soothing voice, as if he were trying to lure a kitten into his arms.

You still seem to be very disoriented; your eyes are not quite open, and you are whimpering in despair and shame at finding yourself in a situation for which you were totally unprepared. Mingi kneels before you. Song Mingi is kneeling before you with his hand pressed against your pussy.

It is Mingi's wish that he could do away with all your worries and nerves. He knows he could, if only you would stop squeezing your legs so tightly around his hand.

"M-Mingi, what..." There's a sharp exhale from you at last, as if you're coming to terms with the situation. "What are you doing?"

The idol gives you a seductive smile.

"You looked like you needed help, doll. So needy and restless. Let me help you, huh? Let me take care of you, Y/N." Mingi leans down on your thigh to plant a wet, open-mouthed kiss on it. When he lifts his eyes up to you, they're bright and languorous, but with that adorable puppy-dog expression that's so well known to his fans.

"I'm going to take good care of you."

You resist, still stunned by the sight and situation you woke up from, and bring your hands to your chest, unconsciously wrapping your arms around the heart-shaped pendant for reassurance. Mingi allows her fingers to continue doing what they were doing before, slowly circling over your clit, causing you to catch your breath. Your small hand reaches out for Mingi's palm, which is still gripping your thigh tightly, the nails digging into his skin. "Y-you shouldn't do that. You...you can't act that way; what if?"You sob in a convulsive manner, your glassy eyes meeting Mingi's. Sexy, gorgeous, and lecherous Mingi, the sweet image of him completely shattered, towers over you even in this position. Despite your words, your body has its own opinion: your lower lip is caught between your teeth, and your breasts are rising and falling rapidly. The way your thighs are still trying to squeeze together and the way more and more moisture is dripping onto Mingi's fingers is a clear sign of approval for his actions to continue.

You're so easy to read. Mingi loves it. He's always liked the more responsive and sensitive type better. For him, what a pleasure it is to fuck them, dumb and docile.

"And why shouldn't I be, huh?" Mingi says as he intertwines his fingers with yours and leans forward to run his nose along your thigh, too close to your pussy. He takes a deep breath. Fuck, you smell delicious and his drool starts to flow. "Because I'm an idol? Is it because I have to be good and obedient? Or is it because you don't want me to, because it seems like that's all you ever think about? Have you had a dirty dream about me? You used to moan so much in your sleep, Y/N."

You hesitate, closing your slanted cat eyes and letting the feel of Mingi's touch envelop you, your lips pressed together to hold back a loud moan. He can already feel you giving in, even though you haven't answered him.

He's good at cajoling. Again, thank Seonghwa for that.

"We shouldn't..." You whine as one of Mingi's long fingers teases at your wet entrance, and the thought of that finger plunging into you makes you shudder.

"We can do what we want to do, or don't you want to do that? Don't you want me?" He purses his lips, pretending to offend. "You like me. Don't you? I'm your favourite boy, right?"

You nod, feeling more depressed by the second, unable to form a coherent thought. How could that have been the case? You must be dreaming. Dreaming that Mingi of Ateez is kneeling before you.

Oh my God!

"Use your words, doll. Say, "I want you." Speak my name." The idol continues to coax you, and you give in, much to the delight of the Mingi.

"I want you, Mingi." You do your best to keep your eyes on Mingi as you speak, but his gaze is too intense and too strong, and you feel terribly embarrassed. He looks almost predatorily.

Mingi grins fiercely and slowly licks his lips. His finger slides lightly into your wet cunt. In response to this, he hears an intermittent sigh of pleasure from you.

"What a good girl."

You sound so precious as he bends his finger inside you, feeling your velvety walls. Wetness drips down his massive silver rings to the base of his fingers. Mingi wants to record your sweet sounds and include them in the next track so everyone can hear how well he pleases you. He should do it, damned. Hongjoong will be burning with envy when he hears about you. The captain has a weakness for sweet little girls who moan and groan. Fucking pervert.

Mingi lets go of your hand to pick up his forgotten phone from the floor, still finger-fucking you. He quickly opens the audio recording application, hits the 'record' button, and drops the phone on the floor next to him, giving his full attention back to you.

You are so in need of his touch. You can't deny your desire for him. Your body speaks for itself.

"Come on, baby, moan for me. Let everyone hear what a dirty girl you are. Come on. What do you say we put some of your beautiful moans and groans on our new track? Mmm, you're going to hear it all over the place; every time you will remember how good it felt when I fucked your little, tight cunt."

"Oh God, that's... You can't say that." You whimper.

"Don't be embarrassed, gorgeous. Let's get you out of those pretty little knickers so you can sing even more sweetly for me." You nod impatiently, breathing heavily as Mingi helps you to lift your hips and pull your knickers off, quickly slipping them into his pocket. He was quite serious when he said that he wanted to take them with him.

Now that your pussy is fully exposed, Mingi takes the liberty of spreading your legs wide open and stares intently at the clear liquid that oozes out of your hole, causing you to whimper and cover your face in shame. He leans down to leave a hot scarlet and purple hickey on the inside of your thigh.

"Look at how wet you are, fuck." Mingi moans in a guttural voice as his fingers push your folds apart so that they are completely covered in your slick, glistening juices. "You've had a dirty dream, haven't you, baby?"

Your eyes are closed, and your long lashes are fluttering. Your plump lower lip is trapped between your front teeth. You're such a spectacle; oh, how he wants to fuck your brains out. In response to his question, you nod your head shyly.

"Y-yes."

Your embarrassment excites Mingi even more as he slaps your pussy, finally giving in to his perverted desires and feeling the moisture splash against his palm. You let out a shrill squeal, your hips shaking uncontrollably.

"Must have been something fucking satisfying, getting your little cunt that wet, huh?" He grins lecherously as he looks at you. You look tasty enough to make him want to eat you alive.

He should really thank the manager for getting him a ticket on that special train.

Your legs twitched, trying to close, but Mingi's hand stiffly stopped them before letting them close around his forearm. You're so overwhelmed by all the sensations, but you're not at all ready for them to stop.

"I... I don't remember. Maybe I was thinking of you. Or maybe someone else." Having heard from Asa about the jealous nature of the group, you say this deliberately. All of the members were very possessive of their fans and very aggressive towards them. Why should they look to anyone else when they are right here, ready to make all their fans' dreams come true?

Mingi bristled. Sinking his teeth into your thigh and forcing his finger into you, making his ring stick to the sensitive rim of your used hole. Fuck. The pain and the pleasure mix together and turn your thoughts into mush.

"With my fingers fucking you like this, don't you fucking dare say that." He growls, the deep sound of it vibrating against your skin. Mingi slides a second finger inside of you, the two of them gliding through the wetness with ease and a loud slurping sound. "You will think only of me all the time. There is no one who can be better than me, doll."

You throw your head back, your chest rising and falling in a quick motion. The velvety walls of your pussy clench around Mingi's fingers. The sound of your moaning rises as the idol runs his fingers along the plush and tantalising walls of your vagina. They seem to just suck him in. You're so tiny all over, and he wonders if you can take all his cock.

"It's only you, Mingi." The way you howl out his name is all the answer that Mingi needs to hear.

The idol can't resist the temptation to lean forward and put his face between your thighs. His lust takes over; the sight is too exciting. All he had to do was find out if you tasted as sweet as you looked. The reaction is immediate: his tongue is licking a flat line from your slit to your clit, which he is circling greedily in between his plump lips. Your soft thighs tremble, your breath gets stuck in your throat along with a long moan, and your little hands cling to his shoulders.

"Oh, oh, God!" You let out a gasp, a barely audible whimper, your nails digging into the hard flesh beneath your tight-fitting shirt. Mingi is hoping that you are going to scratch him to a bloody pulp. Hell, he's in need of it.

You drive him crazy with your cuteness. Your juices are flowing in abundance all over his tongue. It tastes amazing, just the way he imagined it would, and Mingi thinks that he could get drunk on you. Fuck, he'll be bragging about you for days to come, rubbing it in the faces of the members. What a sweet thing he's managed to get his hands on. He could probably sit there and do that for hours, even days, licking that pretty little cunt of yours until his jaw hurts and his whole face is wet. He may have oral fixation, but that's not something he's going to want to put on his profile.

He sucks furiously on your swollen clit as his fingers begin to penetrate your tight hole, the wet, squelching sounds drowning out the sound of a train rumbling down the tracks. You're just perfect—too perfect for Mingi to ignore and not fuck. You literally taste heaven, and your voice sounds like sin—hot moans of uncontrollable pleasure.

"I...will...ahhh...M-Mingi..." You whimper, pressing your hand to your own mouth, and Mingi passionately wants to stop you and tell you that there's no better sound for his ears than your moaning. But the rational part of his brain, which sounds strangely like Seonghwa, tells him that it's for the best and that it's wise not to attract the attention of outsiders. "Please!"

You beg, and it's beautiful, your words muffled by the small palm of your hand but still clearly audible to him. Your back arched as you pushed your hips forward, forcing Mingi's fingers to dig deeper into you. You squeeze them so hard that the idol can barely move them inside of you at all. You squeeze them so hard that Mingi's chest vibrates with a rather low purr, which only drives you more wildly and adds to the pleasure, finally taking you to an unexpected peak as you cum profusely on Mingi's waiting tongue and fingers. You are flowing everywhere, and Mingi is greedily drinking it all in, insatiable in his quest to bring you to yet another orgasm, to make you so silly and submissive in his hands. He will take it all and more from you.

Mingi is so hungry for you, and you are so juicy and ripe, perfect for eating.

The second orgasm makes your whole body shake, and the stimulation is almost painful. Your hips jerk in Mingi's tight grip as he digs his fingertips into the plush, creamy skin. He simply can't get enough of you. He marvels at how dishevelled you look, lifting his dark gaze. Your head is thrown back, your eyes are closed, your skirt is pulled up high over your hips, and your cropped sweater almost completely exposes your bra. But it is your sweet mouth that beckons him to you completely. Beautiful, plump lips, slick with saliva and bite marks. They have been opened to let out gorgeous moans of his name and heavy, puffed-up sighs. He will crawl up your body like a predator until his face, soaked with your juices, is hanging over you.

Mingi is a big man—tall, strong, and nicely pumped up—his stunning figure completely covering you and trapping you underneath him.

You gasp for breath, still in a hazy post-orgasmic stupor, your glazed eyes meeting Mingi's, and you whimper as big, rough hands slide down your sides. He easily encompasses your boobs with ease, squeezing them with a force that causes them to fall out from under your bra.

"What big, juicy tits you have. Mmm, you can't be a better doll." Your embarrassed squeal is swallowed whole as Mingi kisses you passionately. Your tongues meet in an exchange of saliva and heavy breathing. On his lips, you can taste your own slime. It's rough, but you like it that way.

He slides his hands under your bra and massages your breasts, pinching your nipples with his fingers in a teasing way that makes you moan loudly into his mouth.

"The most beautiful and seductive pair of tits, so soft and heavy in my hands, I could just fuck them, couldn't I? Would you like that doll?" He whispers as he bites down on your lips and sinks his teeth into the soft, tender flesh. To be honest, he'd like to tear your lips into a bloody mess, but that's probably for another time.

Right now, he wants to use you. He wants to finally get his cock inside you and fuck you into a stupor. As if you could read his mind, your trembling hands reach out for his crotch.

"You want my cock, darling?" He moves his hips gently, and you feel his huge, hard cock pressing against you through the fabric of his trousers.

"Yes, yes, I want your cock so badly, Mingy." You're not as shy as you used to be; your desires are overpowering your modesty. And you don't have to ask twice as Mingi leans back and quickly unbuckles his belt, and you reach out for it, drawn to his sensual lips.

You would never admit it, but his lips were driving you crazy—those gorgeous, plump lips—moist and inviting, making you want to suck on them like a leech and never let go. You wanted to feel them all over your body.

Mingi quickly unbuttoned his trousers. Your tiny hands grabbed his shirt collar, trying to pull him as close as possible, and you licked his neck with your soft tongue. He's never met anyone so desperate to be touched. The way you whimper into his neck, kiss him randomly, and smear saliva over his lips and chin drives him wild. You're definitely his favourite—the best girl he's ever fucked in recent times, if maybe ever. He should tell the members about you; he should let them hear your beautiful, needy moans with the endless repetition of his name; he'll shove your wet panties right in their faces, damn it.

With one firm hand, Mingi holds you by the waist while the other pulls his boxers down until they are low enough for him to pull out his thick, aching cock. Running his thumb over the swollen, wet head, he squeezes the heavy length into his palm. You whimper and look up at him with your eyes wide open as his fingers grab your chin and pull you away from his neck. So perfect you look—dishevelled, tits bulging from your bra, skirt crumpled, and gathered around your hips as you desperately grab his shirt, trying to pull him as close as possible.

Mingi's desire is to destroy you completely.

"On your knees, dolly."

You are so relentless in your desire to please the man who is in front of you. As you obediently lower yourself to the carpeted floor—rough enough for your delicate knees—Mingi's hands run through your hair. You're too mesmerised by the sight in front of you—a gorgeous man, a world-famous idol, by the way—stroking his big cock lazily, looking too amazing to remain indifferent.

"Do you want to try it?" You drool. The only answer you can give is an impatient moan that tells Mingi all he needs to know. You're so desperate; you've never wanted to take someone's cock in the mouth so much. It would probably be so hard on your tongue because Mingi looks so big.

You're not quite sure if you can take the whole thing or just half of it. You know it'll bulge out of your throat if you do. You're so focused on thinking about it that you only come when the hot head of Mingi's cock begins to circle your smooth, swollen lips. He lets out a deep, low moan and the sound is pure porn. You can bet your bottom dollar that Mingi can make an entire concert hall cum at once just by moaning into the microphone. Fuck, their concerts must be wild.

Your mouth falls open in impatience as you look up at him with your eyes glazed over.

"You are such a good girl." Mingi whispers, holding back a moan as your tongue sticks out to lick the drop of pre-cum that is leaking from the head of his cock. He's sure that you've only been made for sucking his cock.

It's so easy to lead you; you're docile, submissive, eager for pleasure, and desperate for the praise that comes with it. The further your mouth descends onto his cock, the bigger and brighter your eyes become, full of pleading as you look up at Mingy, watching how he reacts, wanting to know if you're doing well. Mingi knows that if he were to send your picture to the members right now, it would cause a universal heart attack. They're absolute wimps for obedient little girls that they can scold and use at will.

"Look at you." He takes a sharp breath and runs his thumbs over your pouting cheeks. You look wickedly adorable, and perhaps Mingi is tempted to shove his cock even deeper down your throat, so that you choke on it and begin to sob. "You bruised your knees just so you could suck my cock. How did I get to be so lucky?"

The stifled moan that you let out is accompanied by a thrust of your hips that makes you feel like you are starting to choke. You try your best to relax your jaw as much as possible, holding back the coughing that starts to bubble up in your throat and forcing yourself to calm down. You look at Mingi through the protruding tears and blink your eyes slowly, waiting for the idol to start to fuck you down your throat. He takes no more than a second to realise what you're proposing.

"Want me to fuck your mouth, baby?" Your strangled moan stops momentarily as Mingi moves his hips again, pushing further into the enveloping wet heat, throwing your head back as you accept his heavy, massive length without complaining. "Damn beautiful, such a pretty cock slut."

Your lips tingle around the suggestive girth, and your cheeks are warm from the praise and effort you've put into his pleasure. You look so dishevelled right now, saliva dripping from your chin down your neck and between your heavy tits falling out of your bra. Your knees are red from rubbing against the rough carpet, your eyes are wet and red from unshed tears, and a small puddle of your secretions is also collecting underneath you, dripping freely from your quivering cunt. You haven't even been fucked yet, and you probably look as fucked as you feel. Even though you have every hope that you will be soon.

When Mingi suddenly yanks you by the hair and pulls you away from his cock, you make a half-squeaky sound and look at him with a crying, hurt look on your face, as if your favourite toy has just been taken away from you. Mingi leans down and pulls you to him for a dirty kiss, his tongue thrusting into your mouth and licking it from the inside to the outside as he tastes himself.

It may be disgusting, but your moans are enthusiastic, and you enjoy every second of it.

"You're so beautiful, dolly. What am I going to do with you?" His words are breathed in through searing kisses, the lips sliding together at random, smearing saliva and mucus all over. Damn, this is unrealistically hot—all of his fantasies coming to life in a beautiful girl who just happens to be sharing a compartment with him on the night train. "Maybe I should have you with me for an introduction to the other members? How would you like it if I were to fuck that obliging mouth of yours off in front of the whole group?"

Enjoying his praise and such a tantalising prospect, you whimper again. Being their whore isn't such a bad option, to be honest; as long as you're fed and well fucked, it's enough to have fun.

"I can't seem to keep my hands off of you, sweetheart. You're literally a pollination." Mingi's deep, velvety whisper tickles your ears. He reaches out to take the palm of your hand and cradle it against his cock.

It's a heavy, hot length, resting perfectly in the palm of your hand, and you long to feel it inside of you. It's big, big enough to send you to heaven with every thrust, and the big head hits you right on the cervix with every thrust of those skilled hips. God bless his dancing skills, because, as you know, dancers can fuck like gods.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" You gasp as Mingi's big hand glides over yours, both of them sliding up and down his hard cock in a confident manner. "With your beautiful eyes and the beauty of your face, Perfect, sweet lips, perfect for the sucking of my cock." He bites down on the torn lower lip you have bitten and kissed and pulls it into his mouth, then pulls back to give you a chaste kiss on your swollen mouth. "All of this is just for me."

Leaning completely on Mingi in front of you, your weak legs have long since stopped supporting you. Your beautiful mouth is open a little, a small whimper escaping from the depths of your throat as you savour the praise that is pouring down upon you. It makes you feel so damn good.

"You are such a delicious girl." Mingi moans as he bites down hard on one of your lips. He turns you around and pushes you in front of him until you find yourself pressing your face first against the fogged-up window. You look out, eyes wide open. There is nothing on the road, just wide fields whizzing by in a fast, blurred image. But something about the thought of somehow seeing how Mingi is fucking you stupid in front of windows makes you wet. Your pussy clenches against nothing. You arch your back and your plump, soft arse, trying to rub against Mingi's cock.

His commanding hand pulls one of your buttocks back to reveal your wet cunt and virgin anal opening. Fuck, you look so delicious. He thinks about pushing his face into your pussy once more and licking you until the morning comes. Next time, he says to himself, shaking his head in the hope that the urge will go away. His hair is falling down over his eyes, giving him that same vicious look that makes their fans go crazy for them.

"I'm going to fuck you like this." Mingi whispers, clenching the lobe of your ear with his teeth. "You'll be a good girl, and you'll be quiet for me so that nobody else can hear how good and how deep I'm fucking you. Do you understand me?"

The rough, big palm slapping your mouth muffled the impatient moan you made as the head of Mingi's cock pushed your sticky folds apart from behind.

"What I told you, doll. If you want to feel me inside you, you need to hear it. I can tease you all night long and play with your lusty little pussy if you are naughty." His words are disapproving and you do a quick nod of understanding. You're going to be good for him. You know you can. You will do everything Mingi asks of you and fulfil his every wish.

Mingi continues to tease you, enjoying the stuttering moans that are muffled by his hand as his cock slides between your folds, rubbing against your clit but never penetrating you. The bulging head of his cock clings to the edge of your throbbing hole and you want to start begging for it. It's agonising, and your eyes fill with tears of frustration at how much you want to feel the thick, long Mingi's cock inside you.

"Have I upset you, doll?" Mingi cooed at the sound of your sobs. "You want my cock so badly. Don't you?" Confirming his words, you nodded mindlessly. "Baby, you know how much I love you; I can't upset my fans." One second you're empty, needy, and throbbing with anticipation, and the next Mingi's thick cock is shoved deep inside you, your oozing hole struggling to get used to his massive size.

A wheeze bursts from your lungs at the intensity of the thrust, your breasts pressed against the window. Your nipples are hardening from the cold of the glass and are becoming even more sensitive than they were before. It's so painful and so good that you're on the verge of tears.

"So perfect, if only you could see the way your beautiful cunt is taking my cock in. I thought you'd have to be stretched for that, but what a pleasant surprise; you don't need it." The sultry purr makes you roll your eyes. His voice is a damned aphrodisiac, making you dumber and wetter, your juices squirting around his cock with every sinful move he make of his hips. Mingi fucks like a god; you were right about him.

You whimper weakly as your nipples rub against the cold glass of the window. Rationality has left you completely. Drool flows freely into Mingi's palm, which is still clamped over your mouth. Your legs turn to jelly as Mingi holds you with a strong arm around your waist, sliding hard in and out of your wet cunt, causing your eyes to roll back in your head. Somewhere far away, your mind is foggy. All it can think about is how good you feel and how much you want this to never end. It's like you're addicted to a drug and you need more Mingi—more, more, and more.

The narrow, velvety walls of your vagina close in over Mingi's dick, pulling him inside and holding him in what feels like a soft vice. Mingi's low, deep moans, the slapping against skin, and the loud, rhythmic squelching echo around you. It's so damned loud, even when he's holding back, and you can't help imagining what it would sound like elsewhere. This must be in their dorm; the rooms are soundproof because he's a terribly loud, whining, moaning mess.Two long fingers slide into your mouth and onto your tongue. You gurgle around them, sucking hard, the cold of the rings burning you, and it's so erotic.

"The best for me." That's all Mingi has to say to you before his thrusts get faster and faster, becoming almost aggressive as he presses you up against the window, his muscular thighs slapping against your plump arse.

All you can do is take what you're given and lick his fingers deep into your mouth as his massive cock fucks the life out of you. You throb and whip your juices around him. As your orgasm hits you, you rest your head on Mingi's shoulder. You arch up and shake with your whole body. Mingi's cock is still thrusting into you. He is having a hard time moving because you are squeezing him so hard. He doesn't stop hitting you, he moves his hips in a calculated way, hitting that special spot that makes you want to see the stars. It's almost mocking. The intense stimulation is searing, almost maddening, as if you're stuck somewhere between heaven and hell.

"That's it, doll. You look so beautiful when you cum so hard. Maybe I should fuck you on stage before all the fans, so they can see what a pretty face you make when my cock is so deep inside you." Teeth sink into your shoulder, and you give a weak whimper. "Or maybe you want me to film it so that I can jerk off any time I feel like it? Tonight I'm going to watch you cum over and over and over again."

Mingi seems to really mean what he says, because it's pretty clear from the way he keeps moving inside of you that he won't be satisfied until he's gotten a few more out of you. His endurance is something rabbits would envy. Mingi fucks like an animal, but it's fucking splendidly.

You squeal in overexcitement and run your hands over the window in front of you, leaving a trail of fingerprints all over the glass. You moan loudly as Mingi comes out of you, your used-up, reddened hole shrinking in the emptiness as you instinctively try to close around the hot, massive length. He has literally broken all the men in your life. How the hell are you going to be able to have sex with anyone else after this?

You'll be in need of rehab for the rest of your life.

He pulls you by your waist like a real doll. You find yourself on the lap of a cheeky idol. Your hips are shaking, and you are trying to hold on to him, clutching at Mingi's broad, muscular shoulders with your hands. He stares at you with a lustful, wet gaze, his eyes gliding over every curve and every mark he's left on you. And Mingi isn't finished with you yet.

"Now let's plant you properly, baby." As he pushes you onto his cock, his hands grab your arse and spread your cheeks. The squelching sound is loud and sickening as you sink down onto him completely. Mingi presses his hand on your belly as the head of his cock protrudes from under the thin skin of yours. "That's right, you take me so well. Your cunt is the perfect place for the warmth of my cock to be. Don't you think so, dolly?" He's almost purring like a fucking cat, and you're not thinking anything; you're just mindlessly nodding along to everything he says. You moan longingly as he circles your hips, and you settle comfortably on his cock. You're so full that he presses against every sensitive spot inside you, making you gasp for air. With Mingi's help, you begin to rise and fall, slapping your arse against his muscular thighs, your mouth ajar, your eyelashes fluttering, and your chubby cheeks wet and hot. You're pure sin. Your legs are too weak to ride Mingi properly, but the idol doesn't care; he's doing fine on his own, guiding your hips as he pleases and driving his cock into you with powerful, deep thrusts.

As he hits you in all the right places, making your toes curl, you see stars behind your closed eyes. You sob openly, your slippery lips pressing against Mingi's neck in an attempt to muffle your moans. You whimper about how good it feels, how deep it goes, and how he never wants to stop. With each thrust, the round, wet head comes to rest against your cervix.

You shudder and squirm in his hands as Mingi presses his fingers against your swollen clit. You can feel it; you're so damn wet. You're flowing like a waterfall, all the way down the length of Mingi and probably all the way down to your balls, forming a puddle on the seat beneath you. You don't want this moment to end; you feel so full and satisfied.

He can collar you and drag you all over the world if he wants to, just so you can keep feeling that gorgeous cock inside you.

"Now! I'm going to cum now, Mingi!" You squeal, pressing your hand to your mouth and bouncing up and down in spite of the tension in your thighs, your tits jiggling with every move you make. Aydol leans forward and catches one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his hot, silky tongue around it as he licks it. Are all rappers that good with their tongues, or is it just something that Mingi does? So you come for the third time that night, your head thrown back and your muscles burning as you continue to be fucked mercilessly. You contract and throb relentlessly all over the thick length that has been pushed deep inside you.

It's a lot, so damn much, but Mingi is still insatiable. To be honest, you wonder where all this sexual appetite comes from with such a constant workload. He could probably go at it with you the whole night through, changing position after position until you pass out. Mingi isn't enough; he isn't full enough to be finished with you.

He turns you over on your back, and you slam your back into the uncomfortable seat. Mingi is still so hard; the head of his cock is a fierce shade of red; his balls are throbbing; one more orgasm from you, and maybe he'll finally let himself come and make a real mess of you. The prospect of flooding you with his cum would be heavenly for him; you would look so beautiful with thick white jets of cum flowing all over your face. It was definitely an unforgettable sight.

Your walls are on fire as Mingi's cock struggles to get back into the nice velvety warmth, and you shake your head underneath it, visibly shaking your whole body and letting out the most beautiful wet sobs.

"It's too much; I can't! God, Mingi, I can't." Mingi kisses you lovingly to calm you down, and you breathe heavily, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"That's OK, baby; you're OK. You can give me another one, right? I know you can, beautiful doll. Come on, make me cum."

"Just one more time." Your voice is barely a whisper.

"Yes, just one. And you can get some rest. I promise." It's something between a promise and an assurance; the words are little more than reassurance, but you're in agreement.

If you had another member with you, you can't even imagine what it would have been like. You wouldn't have survived. And you wonder how fans keep referring to the idols as cute prince charmers with big innocent eyes. Never again.

Mingi squeezes your plump breasts in her hands and bends her head down so that she can take one of your nipples in her mouth. You're too sensitive right now, and even this action makes your hips tremble slightly. Her tongue swirls around the hard bud until Mingi begins to suck tangibly. You tangle your fingers in the surprisingly soft hair, your breasts rising and falling rapidly as you slowly recover from the hypersensitivity of your last orgasm. Mingi's cock is still warm deep inside you.

His hips begin to move gently, in a slow, erotic rhythm, as his teeth graze your nipple, making you whimper. It is this kind of change that almost gives you whiplash. You wrap your legs around Mingi's slender waist and scratch his back with your nails; it hurts, but in a good way. Deep down, you always knew you were a bit of a masochist.

"Look, baby, you're doing so well. You look amazing." The deep, gentle movements of his hips hit the right spot in you. You jump, and you see white spots in front of your eyes. "You need this, don't you? You need to be fucked until you can't take it any more, you little slut."

You nod desperately. It's exactly what you've always needed. A fuck on the edge of your life is exactly what you need after a string of unsatisfying, disappointing partners, after work and endless errands, after the weariness of the day and the noise of the crowd. And it seems that Mingi does too.

You never expected to intentionally meet an idol, and you certainly didn't expect him to remember your face, let alone your name, but here you are with Mingi's cock from Ateez deep inside you, and to be honest, it's the best thing that's ever happened to you in your whole life.

You're so lucky.

Your eyes are closed, your mouth is open in a silent moan, and your breasts are shaking with every thrust. And just as Mingi expected, the crystal pendant looks amazing between your bare tits.

You are being fucked so well that you can't find the right words to describe it. The contrast between you and Mingi is striking: you're completely dishevelled, shattered in every sense of the word, shivering, your clothes half hanging off your body, while Mingi has only drops of sweat on his forehead with long strands of fringes clinging to them, his trousers still on his hips, unbuttoned just so his cock can slip out, his shirt sleeves rolled up, and his hair slightly dishevelled.

In a selfish desire to cum, you are pressed mercilessly into the seat, fucking the rest of your life out of you.

"Cum inside." You whisper, barely coherent. "Please, Mingi."

Mingi growls at this request, losing all self-control at the thought of him filling you with his cum, forcing you to keep it inside you so that all you can think about is him. Feeling him inside you with every step you take. He rubs your swollen clit hard with his thumb, making sure he squeezes the last orgasm out of you. His hips set a frantic, jagged rhythm as he enters your pussy that still flows around him, wet squelches and slaps echoing between you. It's the final orgasm that finally brings Mingi to his own release. He lets his head drop low as he bites the back of your neck to stifle a loud, prolonged moan, both of you lost in their own pleasure. Mingi's orgasm is so intense that you can feel his cum running down the sides of your cunt, filling you to the brim. The intensity causes him to go blind for a few seconds, and it takes him a while to come to.

This is new. Even for him.

Mingi finally pulls back to look at you. He coos softly as he notices how broken and completely fucked you look.

"That's my girl. You did great, doll." He whispers in a low voice and leaves soft kisses on your bitten skin. His lips are like soft, fluffy clouds—very soft and delicate.

Your vision is blurred and your mind is a mess, and you don't seem to be able to function properly anytime soon, but the only thing you're sure of is how content and satisfied you feel right now. You whimper pitifully as Mingi comes out of you, trying to squeeze your hole to keep the cum from leaking out. But it's inevitable; a small amount leaks out of you anyway in a thick, creamy mass.

"Let's get you cleaned up, doll, so you can get some rest afterwards."

Despite the sperm leaking out of you, your head tilts helplessly to the side as Mingi helps you put your clothes back on. He seems to be enjoying the sight, making no effort to wipe it off. Disgusting, yes. He doesn't give a fuck. Nobody ever said he was a nice boy.

You cringe at the sensation. But the knowledge that it's Mingi's cum gives you endless perverse pleasure. You're tired, too exhausted to want anything more than to sleep. You still have hours of travel ahead of you; you must rest before Asa meets you at the train station.

Mingi notices your condition. He has already straightened your clothes and picked up your mobile phone from the floor. The recording is safely stored in a private folder. It is protected by a complex, multi-digit password.

"Y/N, you can sleep now. I'll keep an eye on you." He laughs as he says that, because that's exactly what he said before he started fingering you. But this time, he really means what he says.

"Whatever you want to say." You reply with a smile and finally take off your shoes, which are uncomfortable as hell, and curl up into a ball. "I think, thank you, Mingi. You know, for the sex."

"Don't thank me; I'm kind of totally into you."

"Good night, then."

"Dream about me, Y/N."

By the time you wake up, the train has already arrived at Tamagawa Station. As you would expect, Mingi is nowhere in sight, but your duffel bag is on his seat opposite you. He's not a complete bastard, after all. You pack quickly and fly off the train, straight into Asa's warm embrace.

"Hey girl, you're finally here. God, you look tired and exhausted." If she only had a clue...

"Long night," you reply simply with a shrug of your shoulders.

"Well, let's go. The hot springs are waiting for us, and I hear there's a famous group staying at this resort right now. Maybe we'll meet some of the idols." Asa is terribly excited and is dragging you by the hand in the direction of her car.

You vaguely remember what Mingi had said about him and the boys coming here to relax before their concerts. But you don't even know if they stay here or not, and this is a big resort. What are the chances?

When you get into the car, the only thing you can think about is Mingi's dried semen on your thighs and where the hell your knickers have gone.

On the next day.

"This is it; I can't stand it any longer. How can you stand it??"Asa whined as she climbed out of the big hot tub with the bubbling hot water. She was all flushed, the pretty pink bathing suit clinging to her body like a second skin, until she changed into a fluffy white dressing gown.

"It's hot springs, Asa. That's the point.."You rest your head on the padded side and laugh at her pained expression. It's a beautiful resort, after all. "Go on. I'm going to be here for a while."

"Yes, don't get boiled alive; there's no one to save you. We're the last ones here tonight; you can sit here alone all night." You realise that Asa has already left, her voice coming from somewhere far away.

The hot water relaxes you, and you feel so good, warm, and comfortable. While enjoying your own moment, you close your eyes.

The next time you open your eyes, there will be a piece of fabric dangling in front of your face, or rather, is it a pair of panties? Cream-coloured silk with a delicate ruffle around the edge—it's definitely a pair of panties. It's your panties! Oh, shit. You turn sharply around and sail away from the edge to look into a face full of a seductive grin and the most gorgeous cat-like features.

"These are yours, aren't they?" The voice sticks to your skin like a kiss of love, so honeyed and sweet. Shocked by the situation, you nod your head stupidly, not knowing how to choose your words. "Oh, I finally found you. You know, Mingi has told us a lot about you, y/n." The man slips easily into the hot tub, unfastening his white dressing gown, revealing a chiselled, gorgeous body. For your taste, too close. He corners you unceremoniously, putting his hands on either side of your face, his wide shouders completely blocking you from seeing. "I'm San. But you already know that, don't you, baby?" He literally whispers the last word in your ear, sending a shiver down your entire body and hardening your nipples, even though the water is warm. "You know, we're resting here before the concerts start. It would be really nice to have a pretty kitty like you to keep us company."

Belatedly, especially when San's lips begin to trace a light path down your neck, you understand the meaning of his words.

"Us? I don't understand." You give him a slight push away from you, but he doesn't move an inch.

"To us, of course, you silly kitty - Ateez. You see, our leader is very interested in making a personal record of all your cute little sounds." He leans over to you and whispers in your ear in a conspiratorial manner. "We had a lot of fun listening to how you cum, kitty."

This is a big resort. You remind yourself. What a possibility, you say. You see a satisfied, anticipatory smile on Yunho's lips as he waves sweetly at you from the other side of the hot tub. He is such a sweet boy. Yeah sure, you absolutely believe it.

Looks like you got lucky. After all, what are the chances of getting to meet not just Mingi, but the whole of his group?

2K notes · View notes

wife-of-all-dilfs · 5 months

Note

Hii! I love love love all of your finnick fics! Could I please request a fic where reader is also a victor from an earlier game and she is in an established relationship with Finnick. They both get reaped (not the same district) for the 75th games and reader gets critically hurt in the part where the cornucopia spins. Like she falls into the water after maybe being injured and she can’t swim, so Finnick has to risk everything to save her life.

I’m really looking for like a hurt/comfort with a seriously injured reader and Finnick going through hell to save her because he cannot imagine a life without her in it.

Thank you so much if you’re willing to write this or something like it, feel free of course to change anything to your liking!

two souls, one heart | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick refuses to lose the love of his life. your inability to swim complicates things, especially when the cornucopia begins spinning.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: pre-established relationship, heavy angst, drowning, death, bone fracture

notes: thank you so much!!! i really enjoyed writing this, shed a few tears but still enjoyed it lmao. listen to 'beginning of the end movement v' by the newton brothers on repeat for the full experience <3

A quiet nursery rhyme was being sung by the water's edge.

The calm waves around the Cornucopia lapped at the rocks, the blistering sun causing the surface to sparkle. Wiress' voice interrupted Peeta as he mapped out the arena's clock-like wedges in the dirt. Everyone was focused on the map; you should have been too.

Dark blue ripples had your eyes captivated. So tranquil. So hauntingly beautiful. Loving the sea was in your blood, as your District Four was your home. You would think coming from a fishing district would mean your swimming abilities were mastered. In reality, they were practically non-existent. No matter how many times Finnick had attempted to give you lessons, they never stuck.

Neither of you seemed to care though, always too enraptured by simply being in each other's company—feeling Finnick's hands support your body as you floated on the surface...

"Don't you let go of me, Finnick Odair, or I swear to god I'll drown you."

"Will that be before or after you drown first?" he chuckled, though ultimately tightening his grip on your body in an attempt to reassure you.

....hysterically laughing when he got wiped out by a sudden wave...

"No way! I can't—" You broke into a fit of laughter— "I can't believe that just happened!"

"Are you laughing at me, sweetheart?" Finnick asked, trudging through the water towards you, his hair drenched and swept across his forehead.

"Yes!"

You doubled over, knees buckling as you struggled to contain your laughter. Despite trying to put up a serious front, Finnick too let a few chuckles slip at the hysterical sight of you.

"Oh really?"

Just like that, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down into the cold water, earning him a squeal just before you crashed together below the surface.

...and washing up on the sandy shore in each other's arms, salty lips capturing one another.

"I'm covered in sand," you murmured against Finnick's lips.

He gave you another kiss before pulling away. "It's okay," he said, pecking your lips again. "I'll help you wash off in the shower when we get back." And then sent you a stomach-flipping grin.

Even though you wouldn't trade those memories for the world, if you had known your life would soon depend on the ability to swim, you would have paid much more attention to the lessons.

Finnick stood closely beside you, his trident digging into the dirt as he gripped it tightly in case of an attack. He had noticed your drifted attention, observing the way your eyes stared at the rippling water, like death was lurking just beneath the surface waiting to drag you down to the murky depths.

He could protect you from most things in the arena, but fear was something entirely different. A trident couldn't defeat the darkness in your mind.

A hand slid onto your lower back, rubbing gentle strokes to gain your attention. Your gaze tore from the blinding blue and settled onto Finnick's face beside you, watching his mouth curve into a light smile. You knew the silent words he was trying to convey: 'You're okay, sweetheart. I've got you.'

For a fleeting moment, the anxiety had disappeared. How could anything ever go wrong with Finnick by your side? The corners of your mouth quirked, preparing to send him a smile in response. But it never came. Something new had caught your attention. The woman by the water was no longer singing.

Wiress had been murdered.

The second Katniss let her arrow fly into Gloss' chest, everything around you seemed to explode into action. Anything that could go wrong would go wrong—Murphy's Law. And it did.

The Careers had initiated an attack.

Charging forward from the waterside was Cashmere, determined to avenge her brother's death. Instinct quickly kicked in and the spear in your hand was sent barrelling through the air and into her chest. As you watched her body slump to the ground, an enraged yell came from the side.

Finnick was fighting Brutus.

With your only weapon lodged within Cashmere's chest, aiding Finnick was impossible. Enobaria revealed herself beside Brutus, displaying her vicious fangs and throwing a dagger that sliced a small cut across Finnick's shoulder. Though the wound was minor, your heart lurched as he cried out in pain.

Before a single thought in your brain could form, your legs were moving. Not towards Finnick, but after Enobaria. Remember who the real enemy is—screw that. Finnick could have died. Your Finnick. He called out your name, his voice hoarse and frayed, but you continued on, hatred fuelling each step. It seemed Katniss and Johanna had the same idea, following behind you with their weapons bared.

Salt water sprayed onto your face, but you paid it no attention. Nor did you notice as the jungle surrounding the island began to blur into one overwhelming hue of green. Only when your body was thrown to the harsh rocky terrain did you realise what was happening.

The Cornucopia had started to spin.

Nothing could compare to the terror you felt as gravity's merciless force dragged your body toward the violent waves surging against the rocks. Just as your lower legs breached the edge, a hand grabbed onto your own. Katniss. She too was hanging onto Johanna whose only lifeline was an axe buried in the rocks.

A moment—that was all you were given to scan your surroundings. Supplies and sharp-edged weapons were flying everywhere. White water was spraying into the air. Finnick, who was thirty feet away, was gripping onto a rock ledge whilst keeping Beetee from sliding into the furious waves. His head turned to the side and even from a great distance, your eyes met.

It was at that moment you knew, you just knew the odds weren't going to be in your favour. God forbid you lived a simple happy life with the man you loved, days spent together on a calm beach. God forbid the Gamemakers gave you one last chance to be in his arms. God forbid you survived.

And with that sudden realisation, the universe, sick as it was, decided it was time.

Your hand began slipping from Katniss's; an unseen tear fell from your eye, and you smiled. A smile of goodbye sent to the love of your life. His face contorted into one of agony, lips moving but you couldn't hear his voice over the roaring waves. Still, you knew exactly what he was shouting.

"NO! NO!"

There was nothing he could do but watch your body disappear into the waves, repeating over and over "no, no, no," and praying his cruel eyes had deceived him. They hadn't.

Dark blue was in every direction you looked. The undertow tossed and rolled your body like a ragdoll in a washing machine and despite your attempts to swim, the surface only seemed to be slipping further and further out of your reach. Darkness engulfed you, so thick that you couldn't tell which way was up or down. That was when the panic set in.

Your arms and legs thrashed frantically, struggling against the water's force, desperate to reach safety or an air pocket. Cold water flooded your throat as you gasped uncontrollably. You screamed as every attempt at breathing felt like fire burning in your lungs. Finnick. Where was he? Where were you? What was happening? Why wouldn't it stop?

Thoughts submerged your mind in terror, and you were powerless to stop them. All you could do was feel. Pain. Fire. Burning

At some point, the Cornucopia had ceased its spinning and your body came to a rest in the water. An eerie calm suddenly washed over you; a sense of clarity stilled your wild movements. This was the end. There was no future. No hope. The world above wasn't yours to call home anymore. You now belonged to the sea.

Of course, your water-logged mind had forgotten that home was where the heart was, and your heart was still beating... above the surface, in the aching chest of another.

Tendrils of hair floated around your face like fronds of seaweed. Rays of sunlight penetrated the surface, turning the surroundings a vibrant sparkly blue. As you sank further down, the water, now a comfortable lukewarm, cradled you in its embrace. It felt safe, like being in Finnick's arms again. Like home.

You gazed at the sun's rays; they looked beautiful. You felt beautiful. But time was running out and the bright light soon began shrouding your entire vision, though not before you witnessed a dark figure dive beneath the waves.

**********

Finnick loved the ocean. He spent most days in District Four down by the beach, swimming, spearfishing, and watching the sun rise and set on the blue horizon. If he believed in reincarnation, he would have imagined himself to be a lionfish or dolphin in his past life, living in an underwater world, free from tyranny and oppression. He loved the ocean.

But that love was incomparable to what he felt for you. So, when he dove into the rocky waters to save you and felt the currents fighting against him, he determined there was nothing he hated more than the ocean. Not as he watched its strong grip drag your motionless body further down below him.

Your back had just touched the soft seabed when he swam far enough down to envelope you in his embrace. He should have swum you back to the surface immediately, but in his distressed state, he couldn't help but foolishly stare at your lifeless appearance. Your skin was blue. It's just the water's colour, he told himself. Your eyes were closed. She's just asleep. Your neck didn't pulse under his touch. She's... She's...

He had no justification for that. Feet planted firmly on the sandy floor, he propelled both himself and you back up to the surface. As Finnick paddled back to the Cornucopia, the others reached down and helped lift your limp body onto the rocks.

"Is she...?"

"Peeta," Katniss quietly reprimanded him.

Finnick paid them no attention. He said nothing but trauma screamed in his eyes. His breathing was ragged and his hands were trembling as he frantically checked your pulse again—in both your wrists and your neck; he even pressed his ear to your chest. All he heard was the waves lapping against the rocks.

"No," he whispered again.

It seemed to be all he could say anymore. No. No, this couldn't be happening. You were just standing beside him a few minutes ago; your eyes were just looking into his. However much he tried to deny reality, it didn't seem to make it any less true. You were gone.

He choked out a rough determined breath, interlocked his hands over your chest, and began pressing repeatedly over your heart. Wet strands of tangled hair were strewn across the rocks like dead seaweed. The usual soft pink accompanying your cheeks was nowhere to be seen, devoid of any life.

"Come on, sweetheart," he muttered before pulling down your chin to blow air into your lungs. The kiss of life. And when nothing happened as he pulled away, he restarted the chest compressions. "Oh, don't do this to me," he begged, voice breaking. "Don't do this. Breathe."

Any moment now. Any moment, your eyes would flutter open, the colour would return to your glowing skin, and your heart would beat with life beneath his hands. Your lips would whisper his name and he would pull you into his arms, where he would keep you safe until the end of time.

"Breathe."

Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Nothing. He did it again. Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Silence. Maybe he should've just ripped his heart out and replaced yours with his own. Death would come for him within seconds but hearing something beating inside your chest would've made the sacrifice worth it.

Life would flash before his eyes and your beaming smile would be the last thing he'd get to see. His last thought would be of relief that you were alive.

Johanna rested a tentative hand on Finnick's shoulder. "Finnick, she's—"

"No, she's not!" he exclaimed, continuing his movements. "She's fine. Aren't you, baby? You're fine." He cupped your jaw, his thumb stroking your soft skin before he pressed his lips to yours and blew twice. "You're fine."

The golden bangle around his wrist glimmered in the sunshine as he pressed on your ribcage. All he had to do was keep you alive until Plutarch rescued everyone. One simple task and he failed.

"Finnick, we have to go," someone said. Who? He didn't know nor care.

Leave me, he wanted to say. Leave me here to die. Let the Careers mutilate my body, take my life, my last breath, but let it be by her side.

Something cracked beneath his palms and he knew one of your ribs had fractured. His arms stilled, half-expecting you to cry out in pain but then he remembered. And with that sickening crack came a devastating realisation—you really were gone.

A sob erupted from his throat and his head fell to your chest, drenching your already-soaked wetsuit with hot tears. Everything else seemed to disappear. The arena, the Careers who could attack again at any moment, the spectators who were avidly watching. Everything.

It was just him and you. He didn't care that his screams and deafening sobs could bring unwanted attention or jeopardise the group's safety. Any tribute with half a mind would know crossing him in such a state would be a fatal flaw. Even if they did, it wouldn't matter. Nothing mattered. Life no longer had meaning.

Finnick pulled your lifeless body onto his lap and cradled you protectively in his arms, lightly rocking back and forth. His forehead rested against your own, cold and damp. You always were the cold one, needing his touch to light a fire beneath your skin. He loved having you rely on him for warmth, but not like this.

"Come back to me, baby, please," he begged almost inaudibly. Tears were running down his cheeks as he brushed pieces of hair away from your face. His lips were on yours once more, heartbroken and painfully delicate; not to fill your lungs with air, but to fill your heart with his love in the hopes it would be enough to bring it back to life. "Don't leave me."

Pleas, prayers, begs, and wishes flew past his lips, over and over. And then they stopped and Finnick simply stared. Silence fell across the entire arena. The birds didn't chirp, the other tributes remained quiet, and the trees stood still. Even the water had calmed, resembling a perfectly flat mirror.

Finnick only had three words left on his tongue. Three final words to give you, wherever it was that you were. He slowly leaned down, squeezed his stinging eyes shut, and pressed a long farewell kiss to your forehead. His eyes remained closed as he parted from your skin, unable to take another look as he whispered his final goodbye.

"I love you."

And then, for the first time since he had rescued you from the blue depths, he felt his heart beating again. Just like yours was.

**********

There was a voice, distant yet reassuring—a lifeline to consciousness. Black was all there was. Coldness was all that was felt. It was desolate. But that voice... that voice was so anguished yet so familiar and encouraging that it lit a fire inside your chest, warming you from the inside out.

In the distance of the dark void was a figure, their body made entirely out of a pulsating golden light. Each word the voice spoke enhanced the light's brightness. "Come... me, please..." Brighter. "Don't leave..." And brighter.

The light was warm and comforting, just like the voice attached to it. Whoever's voice it was that brought the light resonated deep in your mind, tugging at the strings within your heart.

Your heart.

The thumping in your chest was weak, almost non-existent, but it was still there. Though it seemed time was running out. Pitch-black darkness outweighed the golden light ten-to-one; you could feel its cold breath creeping onto your back. So, you started running towards the figure. Sprinting. Until all that surrounded you was golden.

"I love you."

Water. At first, it came trickling out in two fluid streams from the sides of your mouth. Then suddenly, it was spraying into the air as choked coughs forced the liquid from your burning lungs. Light flooded your vision—not golden and inviting, but vivid and overwhelming.

There was something warm beneath your legs, against your arm, rubbing at your back, holding you in an upright position. While you heaved, dry-retched, and gasped, that soothing warmth remained.

As your airways began to clear and the expulsion of water ceased, your half-lidded eyes rolled around the area. Still dazed and disoriented, you struggled to make out what surrounded you. There was immense rippling blue, vibrant hues of green in the distance, dark rough grey beneath you, and elongated blobs of colour that stood a few feet away.

"Just–just keep breathing, sweetheart." That voice. The one belonging to the figure of light that brought you back. It was madly repeating the same words over and over. "You're okay", "Deep breaths", and "You're alive."

Shaky fingers brushed the stray wet strands of hair from your face. So warm. With the little energy you had, your head turned to seek out the golden light again. And you found it.

The blinding sun shining down reflected off his bronze hair, turning it a divine golden hue. His brows were raised and scrunched together as though he couldn't possibly believe what he was seeing. Deep lines were etched into his tear-streaked skin, evidence of his previous turmoil. Those sea-green eyes stared at you, afraid that if he so much as blinked, you would fall lifeless in his arms once more.

"You're here," he whispered.

Finnick. YourFinnick. Your light.

When your eyes met, a splitting grin lit up his face, made up of an inconceivable amount of raw emotion. You weren't sure what to do—smile, laugh, cry, kiss him? Your mind was scrambled, overwhelmed with love for the beautiful golden-haired man in front of you.

Without warning, your face scrunched up and the tears began flowing. You weren't sure why you were crying. Maybe it was because you had just been brought back from the brink of death; maybe it was because you couldn't believe someone actually cared so deeply about you.

Finnick cradled your face in his hand. "It's okay," his voice trembled, tears now cascading down his cheeks. His smile, however, never disappeared. "You're okay. You're safe now. I'm not letting you go."

He took your face into two large hands, brought you to his lips, and pressed a tender kiss to each tear that rolled over your skin. One of your hands rested over his; the other was placed against his chest, feeling it rise and fall so you could synchronise your breaths.

His arms moved to pull you tightly against him, almost like he was trying to merge your body with his. Or perhaps, it was your soul. You didn't care about the pain aching in one of your ribs. You wanted to tell him that his soul was already intertwined with your own, but words couldn't describe the sentiment as profoundly as you felt it.

In the simplest of terms your water-logged brain could muster, you whispered, "You're my light, Finnick."

Brows scrunched together, he looked down at you, fighting back the urge to start sobbing in your arms. If he had been anywhere else, if there wasn't an entire country watching, he would've gone on for hours, explaining how stupidly, selfishly, and incredibly in love with you he was.

But he couldn't do that. Not now. So, he placed his hand over the one you had resting on his chest and readjusted its position. He could feel the thumping, even through your palm.

Your eyes were full of emotion as you stared up into his. You already knew what his next words were going to be and for the first time since you were thrown into the water from the Cornucopia, you smiled.

Rhythmically, your hand and his pulsed together. Finnick's gaze flickered across your face and he grinned. "You're my heart."

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