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Lipstick Kisses

Pairing: Thomas x Reader Wordcount: 5k Summary: Thomas develops an obsession with lipstick after someone tells him he shouldn’t wear it. Any kind of lipstick. Warning(s): Smut, some shibari, some bunny <3, mentioned past humiliation, pegging, some d/s dynamics, nipple clamps, sub Thomas

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.#####.

"Are you okay?" Thomas asks, hand on your cheek. 

You nod, but Thomas looks at you. Nothing is okay at the moment, everything is way too much and everything at once. There's no need to lie to him. There's also no chance to really do that, he always sees right through you, and right now, you can see in his face that he doesn't believe you. Thomas' gaze is soft, and you shake your head.

"It's okay." He wraps his arms around you, kisses your forehead. He's soft, not the joker he was mere seconds before when he danced around your kitchen just in his underwear, open bottle of wine in one of his hands, pulling faces and singing off tune on purpose loudly. "It's going to get better again, I believe in you."

He kisses your cheeks as well, then the tip of your nose before he kisses your lips. You're hanging onto him like he's saving you from drowning. Some of the dark bordeaux lipstick you were wearing all day, sticks to his lips and then leaves a faint mark when you kiss his cheek. You laugh, before you try to wipe it away.

"Sorry."

Thomas just laughs and kisses you again. Deeper this time, for longer, more lipstick left behind on his lips. Enough to see the contrast against his skin. Again he kisses your forehead, leaves a lipstick mark of his own. In his eyes you can see a glimmer of wonder and surprise.

"Oh, it sticks."

"Of course it sticks," you laugh again, "You know that, silly boy. Or how do you think it got onto your lips?"

"Because I kissed you."

A pleased sigh escapes him when you kiss his throat, leaving a dark lipstick stain behind. He kisses you again, more bordeaux lipstick sticking to his lips.

"It looks so good on you."

"Really?" He looks at you surprised.

"Yes, really." You get your phone and open the camera app. "Dark lipstick is made for you."

He looks at himself in the reflection, tilts his head from side to side: "You really think so?"

It's not like he looks uncomfortable, he just looks unsure. You leave him alone with your phone and wonder if you will find a selfie or two later. He's still looking at himself when you come back with the lipstick in hand. 

"Let me show you."

Thomas pouts at you after you carefully applied the lipstick to his lips. 

"Brou de Noix," he reads from the bottom of the lipstick tube - butchering the French a little bit. "You really think this looks good on me?"

"Thom," you take a photo of him and give your phone to him, "Why do you think you don't? Who told you this?"

He sighs but this time he sounds frustrated: "One of our latest make-up artists, she said I'm too pale for anything too adventurous."

"They are talking shit, you look incredible."

There's a red stain on his teeth when he bites his lips, you reach out for his cheek and get the colour of with your thumb. Thomas pulls a face at you.

"It sticks, I thought we established that much." You smile at him. "That means it also sticks to your teeth."

You peck his lips, only for a few seconds but he grins at you and holds you in place, close to him.

"And now you're kissing it off of me, because I look so irresistible?"

"Yes, I'll completely kiss it off you." 

He smiles when you kiss the corner of his lips. 

.#####.

It happens more often, it’s a slow progress of Thomas getting more comfortable with that pop of colour on his lips. First it’s colours you almost can’t see on his lips, inconspicuous, a little pink, a bit of nude here and there. Sometimes you only notice when he kisses your cheek, looks at you for a moment too long and you will have to rub some lipstick off your face.

Gradually he’s getting adventurous. One of your dark red lipsticks is missing first, you’re looking for it everywhere one night when you’re going out. Only weeks later it turns up again - you find it in Thomas’ suitcase buried under some shirts.

Then there’s a wonderful plum colour you have had your eyes set on for quite some time but you never dared to pay more than a certain amount for any makeup and this certainly was over your budget. Until one day Thomas gives you a small box with the plum coloured lipstick inside. It looks marvellous on you, your friends tell you so, Thomas tells you so and you can see it yourself. But when you catch Thomas in the bathroom one evening, you can just think stunning and stare at him. He tries to hide the lipstick in the sink behind him whilst rubbing it off his lips. 

“Please don’t,” you say. “It looks amazing on you, Thomas.” 

“You think so?”

“Yes,” you smile at him, “I already said that last time. You look stupendous, too good to be real.”

.#####.

The next time, he isn’t hiding it. One evening he just sits down next to you on the couch, colour on his lips that looks like he just drank a glass of red wine but didn’t lick his lips afterwards.

“So beautiful.”

He smiles at you before he puts his head in your lap and you can play with his hair, twirl strands of his blond hair around your fingers, comb them slowly through his hair. You see how he bites his red lips and how he closes his eyes. He presses his lips to the skin on your thigh where the fabric of your pyjama shorts end.

“You have a favourite yet?”

You can feel how he shakes his head: “No, I only tried about four but I really like this one.”

Thomas looks up at you confused when you get up but when you come back with your makeup bag that holds all your lipsticks and makeup wipes his eyes grow wider.

“Then let's try some more,” you smile at him. He sits up which gives you the opportunity to straddle and sit on top of him. A tiny whimper escaping the back of his throat, always so sensitive to your every touch. “Pick whichever you like.”

His hands shake slightly when he picks up your bag full of treasures and opens it. The little sigh leaving his lips doesn’t slip your attention. Overtaken by something almost like greed he rummages through it. 

“There are so many shades,” he looks at you, “Oh, dark red. Brick red ... plum. Oh, this has a funny name, Tea and Cookies. Pink, more red. Oh, wait, what the fuck, is this blue!?”

“Yes, that’s blue. I have some green as well.” Thomas raises his eyebrow at you and you laugh. “Halloween is a thing that happens.”

“I want to try the green.”

You look for the label that says Serpentina. A dark shimmery green you know will look lovely on Thomas’ lips. Stark contrast to his skin and the light blush around his cheeks and his nose. He squirms under you when you do his lips and his eyelids are fluttering when you take a photo on your phone to show him. 

“I look … good?” He looks at you questioningly. 

“Insanely good.”

He kisses your throat. It doesn’t leave a mark on you, doesn’t stick, and he looks at you confused. 

“It’s smudge proof,” he pouts at you - looking at you like you betrayed him out of a reward he was craving, “And kissproof.” 

“That’s not fair,” he says but doesn’t elaborate when you take a make-up wipe to get the lipstick off.

The next one is a berry shade that you also deem gorgeous on Thomas. Even he marvels over it when he sees himself on your phone camera. He’s rewarded with more satisfaction than before when he presses his lips to your throat again, the lipstick sticking to your skin. It does stick but not enough for his taste. 

There’s the darkest shade of plum next, it’s matte. It’s so dark that he laughs when you show him: “I’m too much of a loaf of toast for this one but I love how it feels and this … matte thing?”

“I think, I have the perfect one for you,” you dig into your bag again until you find the brick red matte lipstick Thomas looked at earlier, “I wanted to test if this one is smudge proof.”

It isn’t, you know. It’s the reason why you bought it in the first place - for it to smudge. Stain Thomas’ sweaty sticky skin. To leave marks on your own skin, colour transferring from Thomas’ lips to yours. After you’re done with the lipstick, Thomas bites his lips, the red sticking to his teeth. Carefully you wipe it off his teeth with your thumb. Instead of going for your throat, he pulls up your pyjama shirt. He leaves a lipstick mark around your nipple and looks at it in awe.

“I want to tie you up,” you whisper against the shell of his ear, “And leave all those marks over you, so I can see every kiss I left on you when I’m done.”

Thomas puts his hands in front of him, looks at you expectantly: “Please.”

“Here?” you smile at him. “Kitchen table, bed or floor?”

You can see how he tries to find an answer, slightly whimpers when you stroke your fingers over his hip bone. 

“Bed.”

You take your make-up bag and then take his hand to lead him to the bedroom. It doesn’t take much to push him into the sheets, his fingers getting tangled in them.

“Cuffs or rope, bunny?” 

“R-rope.” You can see how he swallows heavily. “Please.”

The berry colour of the restraints in your hands reminds you of the colour Thomas had on his lips earlier but you’re digging deeper, getting the mint green rope. The rope lands next to Thomas on the bed, he plays with it, while you look for the scarlet red lipstick. 

“You’re allowed to get naked, Thomas.” 

He only blinks at you and you put the lipstick aside. It isn’t much to get him out of, you pull the old band shirt over his head when he raises his arms and then you pull down his joggers, there’s no underwear to get rid off and he whimpers into your ear quietly.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

“Get on your tummy.”

He almost stumbles over himself, almost gets caught in the sheets, before he turns around. You laugh, but it’s lovingly, not condescending. 

“Are you excited?” You take the rope from his hand. 

He nods into the pillow, his cheeks almost as scarlet as your lipstick pick. A quiet sigh falls from his lips when you take one of his hands and tie the rope around his wrist twice, there’s enough room for two fingers you can wiggle under the rope. Then you cross the rope over the ends you just worked on, reach under the bind to make a loop and pull the rope through it, Thomas is still happily sighing. You create another loop and pull again, before you take the end and tie him to the bed. 

“This okay?”

You can see how he pulls on the ropes, how he wiggles, how he gets a couple of fingers of his other hand under the rope.

“Feels good.”

He looks beautiful when you’re done with his other wrist and he lays in front of you - tied.

“Ankles as well?”

He shakes his head on the pillow. Thomas still tests the pull and give of his restraints when you apply the lipstick, you just look at him for a while until he whines and strains his neck uncomfortably to look at you.

You press the first kiss to his right ankle, then the left, you leave kisses all over his calves, his thighs - leaving an ocean of right behind. He moans when you leave kisses on both of his asscheeks, squirms under you, shamelessly pushes his ass closer to you.

“Hey, hey,” you pull away from him. “Only kisses.”

“Not even a finger?”

“No, not even one,” you smile, “And it’s pretty red already, believe me, so no slaps either.”

It’s not that you don’t want to give it to him at all but you aren’t quite sure where you left the lube last time and you wouldn’t leave him alone to go and look for it. The other problem, you don’t really see as a problem, but would leave Thomas too embarrassed would be that he would cum. Doesn’t matter if one finger, or two, or three. He would fuck himself back on them and cum, faster than he would like, embarrasslingy fast and he might not be happy to continue after. You don’t want to end this so soon. 

“I won’t …,” he starts and whines before continuing, “cum. I promise.”

“Good boys don’t lie.” You wet one of your fingers with spit and let it catch on his hole, he only tries to muffle his noises. “That wouldn’t even take you two minutes.”

You withdraw your finger and start kissing him again, the small of his back, his sides, some moles and freckles. Up his lower back. You do notice that he’s biting the pillow, rolling his hips into the mattress but you only stop him when he's seriously starting to rut into it. 

“What are you doing?” You hold his hips still.

“I’m hard,” he mumbles when you gently pull him off the pillow by his hair, lipstick bleeding into the white pillow case. An ear shattering mewl comes from him when you reach around him but before he has the chance to buck up into your hand, you pull away.

“Yes, my bunny is hard,” you whisper into his ear, “But I want you to hold your hips still. No getting off, okay?” 

He would - get off. Rubbing himself against the mattress, against you, furniture, your pillow. You can still remember the one time he was dry humping the pillow next to you. You didn’t ask him to do it, Thomas so horny and desperate to get off that he didn’t realise what he was doing, the only thing that was important was that you didn’t stop him. There wasn’t a no coming from you. The wet spot in his underwear gave him away before the humiliation reached his eyes and spit on his chin before he looked away ashamed. You moan thinking about it, you want him to do it again but you have to store the idea away for another day.

You still hold his hips when you kiss his shoulders. Then his neck, you stroke sweaty strands of his blond hair out of the way. You kiss the shells of his ears softly, Thomas shivering under you. For what feels like the fifth time already you reapply your lipstick again.

“Turn over.”

He’s careful to turn, slow, the ropes crossing and you can see how his dick is straining against his stomach, pre cum on the tip. 

This time you start kissing on the bridge of his foot, then the ankle, repeat your movements on the other side. Before kissing up his calves, his thighs, again. You kiss into his prominent pubic hair, pushing his dick a little out of the way to kiss his belly, his hips, up his happy trail, around his navel before you lick into it for only a second. You leave red marks on his ribs, around his sensitive nipples - on them. On his collarbones. You kiss his arms, his tattoos. His armpits, for a little bit longer, when you lick there he moans and pulls against the rope. You move on to kiss his tied wrists, his hands, his fingers. 

There’s a sniff. And then another. Some heavy breathing.

“Thom?”

“Hmmm?” He looks at you teary eyed.

“You are crying.” You put your hands on his wrists to untie him quickly if he wants to, if he needs to, stop. “Are you okay?”

“‘S good …,” he sounds drowsy and his eyes flutter but he still cries, “good tears, promise. More?”

You press the last kisses to his fingers and then move to his throat. You kiss up to his chin, you kiss the stubble, his cheeks, his forehead under his sweat drenched fringe, you kiss some tears away. You leave a dozen kisses on his nose before you stop.

“You forgot something,” he says sheepishly.

“True.”

And then you kiss him on the lips, his tongue lazily pushing into your mouth. He breathes heavily when you pull away.

“You said everything,” he whines and he pulls on his restraints even more than before.

It possibly feels like hours for Thomas when it only takes a few minutes to kiss your way down again. You take your time to kiss his scrotum, a bit too long for Thomas it seems, because he cums. His leg is kicking into the mattress, and then there’s only a low whimper. You can feel how he’s in a fight with the ropes around his wrists while you kiss and lick up his length and then you place one last kiss on the tip, some cum dribbling out of him and a pitiful whimper coming from the back of Thomas’ throat. You move up quickly to untie his wrists, to pull him close, sweat and lipstick covering him. He just sinks into your embrace.

“Are you okay?”

He nods at your shoulder.

“How are you feeling?”

“Still floaty,” he looks at you - cuddles even closer to you, makes himself a home right where your heart beats, “but … I feel loved.”

“Good,” you kiss the top of his head, “Let's get you some water, and then I’ll clean you up.”

Thomas makes a grumpy noise at that.

“I’m gonna wash your hair and massage your shoulders, I promise. And after we can cuddle.”

“Chocolate?” Thomas asks.

“Yes, sure.” It’s some habit he developed, you already have forgotten how it started. But Thomas who usually isn’t too fused about chocolate would ask for it after subbing. After you put him in a fluffy bathrobe, he would slowly nibble on his chocolate while being hugged. “Of course you’re getting your chocolate.”

“And next time,” he smiles, “I can kiss you.”

.#####.

You shouldn’t be shocked, or surprised, but somehow you are both. It’s the fact that you didn’t expect it, when you should have seen it coming.

There’s red letters on your bathroom mirror. Lipstick sticking to the glass.

Love you!

There’s a heart around it, a lipstick mark next to it.

You can’t even be mad that he used your expensive one.

.#####.

How are there so many shades of lipstick?

That’s what Thomas writes to you one evening. 

How come you kept the liquid matte ones from me?

You laugh.

The next evening Vic texts you, looking for her lipstick, she thinks it might be with you. You have a look in the bathroom before you realise that the most likely suspect is right under her nose.

Ask Thom. And tell him, he has to give it back, he can’t just take what isn’t his.

He’s out but I found it in one of his pockets. Since when does he steal lipstick? 

Slight obsession.

You can imagine how Thomas’ cheeks heat up when Vic will tease him with it later.

Can you show me the colour?

Vic sends a photo of a lipstick tub with red roses on it. Another one, where you can see the colour, a raspberry red - a little pinkish. Another one that shows you the name. It’s matte and liquid. 

.#####.

“I got something for you.”

“Shouldn’t I bring presents from travelling, or something?”

“You will like it,” you smile at him. He will, you’re sure. But there might be a catch he isn’t expecting when you look at his excited face.

His face slightly drops when you give him the lipstick tub. Red roses on white background. The Dolce & Gabbana sign on it. The Dolcissimo name. He swallows.

“You know what this is?”

He nods.

You wait.

“Vic’s … lipstick.”

“No, this is your lipstick. I bought it, it’s yours, you can wear it.” He nods again. “And what do you have to say?”

“Little bunnies don’t take what isn’t theirs?”

“Exactly,” you say softly, “Come here.”

You apply the lipstick to his lips, he looks beautiful. Pretty.  

“I’m sorry.”

“Did you apologise to Vic?”

“I did.” Thomas blushes deeply.

“Good, and now bunny can make it up to me.”

He nods.

“You can get yourself ready,” there’s excitement sparking in his eyes, “And then you can get my harness, choose a size and take one more toy. Then you can get me, I’ll be in the kitchen cooking for later.”

At some point it made click in your head, that the biggest punishment for him is deciding on it himself and some other small thing. Rack his pretty head if he can and wants to take what he chooses for himself. It takes him longer than you anticipate. When he comes into the kitchen, he’s naked. Except for his collar, his cheeks are reddened. He isn’t saying a peep.

“Did you choose?”

He nods.

You eye his collar, you didn’t say anything about it, you aren’t displeased, you almost let it slide completely. You put a finger under it: “Next time you ask, okay?”

“Yes,” he gets out quickly, “Yes, I will. Thank you for letting me wear it.”

Thomas put everything on the end of the bed. He kneels next to it on the floor. You have a closer look. There’s your harness, lube, a condom, a dildo that’s slightly bigger than what you thought he would pick. But the biggest surprise are the nipple clamps he got out. With every passing second he blushes more. You pick the clamps up and let them dangle in front of his face.

“Are you sure about them?”

“Yes,” he looks at the floor.

“Babe, you hate them.” He really does, his nipples are sensitive, he always yelps and looks at you as if in agony. “You can choose something else, you can choose something you like.”

You’re surprised he didn’t go with his usual choice of rope. Or his second choice of a cock ring - there even is a vibrating one that he actually loves somewhere in the nightstand. 

“Can we try?” His voice is small. “Please.”

“Sure,” you get your hand under his chin, “but if this is too much we will change to a ring, okay?”

“Yes,” he smiles, “I would like that.”

You get your harness to step into it. Thomas stretches his hand out before he stops himself.

“Am I allowed to help?”

“Of course.”

He readjusts a strap that twisted, then he adjusts the toy to the o-ring of your strap-on harness. He stays on the floor until you tell him to get on the bed.

“Did you finger yourself?”

He looks at you out of wide eyes. Surprised. It just seems to hit him that this was included in getting yourself ready. 

“No,” he closes his eyes. “Bunny is still good?”

“Yes, you’re good.” You take his hand and squirt some lube onto his fingers. “You can do it now.”

You kiss his thighs, you know that he slid one finger into himself when you hear him moan, and then another one a few minutes later when you hear him mewl. You put some lube on your own fingers, one of them slips easily into Thomas, joining two of his own which he scissors slightly.

“You think that’s enough?”

“Ye-,” a moan rips through his throat, “Yes, I’m ready, please.”

“Good, keep your fingers there a little longer.” He sighs when you pull your finger out. You get the clamps and put them on his nipples slowly and carefully. He whimpers and moans and whines. “Should we take them off?”

You tug on the chain gently. There’s a little silent cry tumbling from Thomas’ lips. 

“Let’s take them off, okay.”

But Thomas shakes his head.

“No?”

“No,” he whines, “I want them, please. I want this, it feels nice … but no tugging harder than this.”

“Okay,” you shush him, “Not harder than this. And when it is too much we will still take them off.”

He watches you when you rub the lube onto the strap-on. Obediently he spreads his legs and he bites his lips when you stretch him out slowly. After a couple of inches you stop, only continuing when Thomas whimpers for more. You go slow on him, and his whimpers turn into moans when you slide in with the whole length. Thomas’ breath goes heavily and he bites his lips when you stop moving, just keeping him full. 

“You’re ruining your lipstick.”

He stops biting, but when you pull out completely, he bites his lip again to muffle his frustrated voice.

“I want you on top.”

You change places. He is over you, and you sitting against the back of the bed, waiting for him. To lower himself down, to get the dildo inside again. You’re waiting for him, he lets it slide back in slowly. He’s betraying his own impatience with how slow he’s going. Before the impatience takes over and he starts to bounce up and down. Hands around your neck. He hisses when you still his hips. It’s the other small thing he hates so much. 

“No bouncing.”

“But …” 

“Don’t move.”

For a minute you both stay still. He’s soft, and whimpering. And sososo desperate. You can see it on his face, it takes him a lot not to move. 

“That’s it, just like that,” you press a kiss to his lips - then to his nose, “such a good boy for holding still.”

“Just wanna bounce.”

You laugh a little: “I know, you’re such a bouncy bunny. But you have to hold out a bit longer.”

He grits his teeth together, everything to just stop himself from moving. He’s impatient, he wants to move. There are whines and growls coming from the back of his throat. You know it’s all he wants to do, just bounce up and down. Have the tip bump against his prostate. 

“You’re pretty when you’re blushing.”

His face and his throat get even redder, the teasing getting to him. He’s trying so hard not to move, to bounce, to wiggle, to grind against you. 

“You’re doing great.”

He loves the praise, his eyes rolling back. The blush isn’t going down, it only gets more, travelling down his chest. The look of his eyes is pleadingly, and he grabs your hand, squeezing it to think about anything else than moving. 

“Now you can move.”

There’s a breath he probably doesn’t know he was holding. He moves, his hips moving up and down. He’s a bouncing mess on top of you, lipstick getting smudged. He’s panting. And he’s so close. His thighs are quivering, his face lit up in pleasure. You tug at the chain from the nipple clamps just a tiny bit, he whines, but he still moves his hips.

“Stop.”

He makes the craziest sound you have ever heard. Alluring. Absolutely pathetic little noise. Still, he stops moving.

“Not fair,” slips out of his mouth before he can think about it. You tug on the chain again. You know that he can’t think straight anymore. 

You give him a short break: “Move.”

He moves, this time quicker, more uncoordinated. You give him a couple of minutes, not enough for him.

“Stop.”

“No …”

He whines, he bounces for a couple more seconds which is why you slap his thigh lightly and then he stops. He flares his nose. You know it’s all so much, too much. 

After the fourth round, you praise him, he isn’t moving. But he’s begging, drooling, the spit running down his chin. 

“Please, pl-please, just, bounce, please.”

Everything coming out of his mouth is a broken cry. His hair is everywhere, his bangs clinging to his forehead, sweat on his chest.

“I’m …,” he shivers, “Please, I’m so desperate. Bunny needs …”

He doesn’t finish. He sloppily starts sucking on your fingers when you hold them out for him. His red lips look beautiful around your fingers. 

“You were so good today,” you smile at him, “You can move.”

Thomas starts moving and this time you don’t stop him. His thighs are quivering harder than before. His breath hitching, his movements uncoordinated. You raise your hips a little bit to meet his movements. He cums with a loud moan when he bounces down and you take one of the nipple clamps off just to have the little teeth snap again. Thomas only slowly calms down.

“Ouch,” he whimpers.

You take them off carefully, Thomas still mumbling. 

“You are fantastic, we will put cream on your poor nipples,” you whisper into his ear, “Such a good boy, I love you.”

He doesn’t make any move to get off you, wanting the feeling for a bit longer. You’re grateful that you took a glass of water and some chocolate from the kitchen earlier.

“Love you too.”

.#####.

Thomas sends a photo of a lipstick to you just before a show. 

Vic’s?

NO

You can see the pout in front of your inner eye. 

Ethan got it from the mua. He said, I’m eyeing it, so I should wear it

It’s a lovely shade of merlot.

Do you want to wear it?

Yes

He sends you a selfie. Thomas in front of the mirror. Lipstick on his lips. He’s beautiful, and he doesn’t rub it off. Only when the stage lights are out again.

.#####.

END.

.#####.

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Timezone | Damiano David

Pairing: Damiano David x female!reader

Summary: As Damiano and you are forced to be apart, you both slowly start to feel like you're loosing your mind.

Warning/s: Language (maybe like one curse word that is repeated two to three times), mention of smut (but not explicit), Google translate

Author's note: Here is another Damiano song imagine I hope you like it. I might make one with Thomas Raggi very soon 🤫

You're wearing my old clothes, but you, you wear it better

And every time I sew your face, the moon should be jealous

And I keep talking to the wall 'til he's a friend of mine

I call you every hour just to tell you that I'm loosing my mind

Now I know you're sleeping

Where I'm supposed to be in

Wish I could've stayed

Damiano has had enough. The fame felt too much and the videocalls, phone calls and messages weren't enough anymore. He was practically pulling his hair out as he continued to mindlessly walk around his hotel room. His completely empty hotel room. He looked at his perfectly made bed and at his perfectly sorted out clothes in the closet and Damiano was finally, officially done. He couldn't take this torture anymore.

He strolled mindlessly to the big window of his hotel room as his eyes roamed around the busy streets of LA. People were rushing everywhere and Damiano realized that they were completely obvious to his suffering. He thought it was unfair.

He roughly ripped the cigarette out of the back pocket of his jeans. As he went to light up the cigarette it begin to accur to him that sun was still shining brightly in the middle of the sky. He realized that the moon must be keeping company to his beloved. Not that you were probably enjoying the darkness that the moon swept in, he thought. You must be still deep in your sleep considering the fact that it was probably middle of the night where you were right now. As Damiano opened the window and stepped onto the balcony he let himself enjoy the bright rays of sunshine on his bare back. He blew the smoke out of his mouth and looked towards the sun. It was shining so bright that Damiano was pretty sure that it was mocking him. He knew that it was mocking him. The sun was pure reflection of his life right now. It was shining on him so brightly, but it also reminded him that you are not in the same position as he is right now. He was covered in sunshine yet you were bathing in moonlight. It wasn't fair.

With a sigh, he threw away the cigarette and returned to the room closing the window behind him. Empty room remained him not only of you, but also that his band mates were out right now. Damiano was pretty sure that they went out partly because of his constant whining about not being able to do more that to just see your gorgeous face over FaceTime. It wasn't his fault that he was whining about it constantly, he thought. Those calls were sometimes quite impractical, anyways. For one, he couldn't touch you. He could only watch your beauty from far away. He couldn't smell your sweet scent. Your shampoo. Your perfume that he sometimes liked to steel away just so that he could smell like you (it was fine you did it with his perfume, too). He knew that Vic, Thomas and Ethan were practically sick of him now because he was talking so much about you. Ethan thought that he looked like a tortured puppy whenever Damiano mentioned how much he misses you. You were talking to everyone on the band, too and Ethan knew that you were like that, too.

In fact, everyone got so worried for you two because as time went by and you two spend much more time away from one another it looked like you both started to not take as much care for your well-beings as you did before. Everyone saw how much this long distance affected both Damiano and you. Thomas barely stopped Vic from buying Damiano tickets back to Italy (you moved there with him) one hour before the show so he could see you.

Damiano was done. But he couldn't help himself. He just kept calling you when the moon is shining in LA, when some people were asleep like dead and some people were partying until they die. He just wanted to hear your voice yet he knew that everytime he calls you, you can hear desperation in his rough voice. Damiano was very well aware that he was slowly loosing his mind. Especially when it was night where you were and you were deep in your sleep. He didn't want to disturb you, so he somehow managed to gain some self control and not call you then. It was all right, though. You were loosing your mind, too.

He took one more look at his perfectly made up bed and knew what was missing.

If you two weren't apart, you would be sprawled out on the bed, bare back facing the door, hair messed up, face pressing into the pillows, deep in sleep after the passionate activities that him and you took part in the night before. His whole hotel room was mocking him. He knew that very well. All this torture... it took everything in his willpower to not run to the airport and never let you go from his arms.

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is seven thousand miles, running like a mad dog

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is a different timezone

So fuck that I'm dreaming, this fame has no meaning

I'm coming home

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is a different timezone

"So how is the tour going?" Your slightly raspy voice asked him.

It was an early morning in Italy and you just woke up from your slumber. In fact, you were still in bed. On the other hand, Damiano has been awake for hours. It was still dark outside and he put his laptop outside on the balcony on the fresh LA air. God knows he needs it.

"It's good." Damiano told you. "It's good..." He repeated slowly as he finally blew out another little cloud of smoke from yet another cigarette.

The way he repeated his answer seemed like he was just trying to convince himself that everything was perfect, that everything was just the way he imagined it to be. But you knew better. You knew he was hiding something and you were pretty sure that you could guess what it was.

"What is wrong, amore?" You asked him and for a moment, when Damiano looked back from the night sky to the screen, he felt himself freeze.

He knows that you are beautiful, but the way that you smiled sadly at him and the way that one piece of your hair fell in front of your eyes, he was once again hit with the feeling of loneliness. It painted him greatly because even though he can se your breathing smile and hear your melodic voice, it wasn't the same. You weren't really there with him. For a bare moment he didn't say anything, you figured that that would happen. So you went on.

"I know when something is wrong." You told him and he started to deeply stare in your eyes, you felt like he was staring into your soul. It was truly curious considering the fact that you had a videocall. "Your eyes start to drop in a certain way. They get more serious." You continued, your voice softening with every word you said and he noticed that. He always does. Just like you always do, too.

"The tour is going amazing. Vic, Tom and Ethan are amazing like always. But you know what is wrong." Damiano took another hit from the cigarette and quickly blew another cloud of smoke out of his mouth. He started to smoke more. You noticed that fact after your 50th call this week. He started to smoke more then he usually does and you could partly guess why.

"You're right. I do know." You sighed as you rubbed your hands over your face. In return, he turned his concerned eyes back to you. "It's killing me, too. I feel like I can't do it anymore either." You admitted to him. He let his hand run through this hair as he put out the cigarette with his other hand. You could just watch how he smashed it in the ashtray angrily.

"I miss you so much it hurts." Damiano heard himself admit this to you for like the millionth time today. "I just want you to be back in my arms. I can't fucking do this anymore. I don't want to."

"Me neither."

Tomorrow I got another plane, I'm not gonna take it

Instead, I'm gonna fly straight to you, I'll pay double for the tickets

And I don't give a shit about the contracts that I signed

And they can say whatever, we'll be making love, I'm fucking you tonight

Now I know you're sleeping

Where I'm supposed to be in

Wish I could've stayed

Victoria, Thomas and Ethan watched Damiano with great concern as he continued to practically pull his hair out. Their manager just told them that they have to stay in LA for one more month. Not one more day. Not one more week. One more MONTH. Måneskin was supposed to leave in three days back to Italy, but the plan changed. This news added the fuel to the fire that was already actively burning. And that was enough for Damiano finally explode. The rest of the band barely stopped Damiano from nearly ripping the manager's head right of off his shoulders. Don't get him wrong. Damiano loved this tour and he loves his band more than anything. But he was supposed to finally go back in your arms and he was pretty sure that he never wanted to leave them, but his plans and hopes were now officially crushed, burned to the ground.

"Questo è tutto! Me ne sto andando! Non mi interessa nemmeno più questo. Voglio solo vederla per almeno un giorno." ["That's it! I'm leaving! I don't even care about this anymore. I just want to see her for at least a day."] He yelled out and Vic jumped up to her feet before she gave him a bone crushing hug. "Non posso più farlo, cazzo." ["I can't fucking do this anymore."] Damiano whispered as he gripped on Vic's hair. Victoria let her hand run down his back as she hugged him tightly. It painted her to see one of her best friends in this state. Suddenly, she let go of her, gripped Damiano's shoulders as she started to yell, too.

"Che cazzo stai aspettando?! Vai a trovarla per un giorno e dille che ci siamo salutati!" ["What the fuck are you waiting for?! Go and see her for a day and tell her that we said hello!"] Damiano looked at her in shock as Thomas and Ethan joined them, nodding.

"Sì! Amico, smettila di deprimerti e vai dalla tua signora." ["Yeah! Dude, stop moping around and go see your lady."] Thomas said. Thomas' confirmation along with Victoria's and Ethan's nodding was enough for Damiano to turn the entire hotel room upside down.

He pulled out his suitcase out of nowhere and started to pack. He was moving so fast and so much that the rest of the band thought that he's going to give them a headache. The point is, he didn't care what he put in in his suitcase. He packed just a few essential stuff, anyways. His mind was already with her, back in Italy, and it was the only thing that was important to him. It was safe to say that he was in and out before anyone could say anything else. And so, with one group hug and quickly exchanged "good bye"s and "have a safe flight"s, Damiano was off.

Practically running down the hall so he could get to the elevator and out of the hotel. He ran out on the busy street of LA and somehow managed to get a cab very quickly. He was extremely excited and kind of nervous. Damiano figured that he simply couldn't wait to get to the airport. The moment that the cab stopped, Damiano practically threw the cash at the driver and ran inside the airport, his suitcase stumbling behind him. Once he finally got into his flight he slumped down on his seat. He just couldn't wait do be home. And the waiting really paid off.

Damiano felt like his heart was going to burst its way out of his chest as he took a look at the building of your shared apartment. The flight was too long and he was just happy to be back. He knocked on the door after he went up the stairs and he was suddenly face to face with your sleepy eyes and your bright smile when you saw who was knocking on the door. Before any of you could get a word out you brought one another into a bone crushing hug. You started to cry in each other's embrace. You missed the way his arms were wrapped around you, you missed the way he always sounded so breathless when he joyfully laughed, you missed the way his eyes were shining, you missed him. He missed the way you smelled like the sweetest candy the way your eyes stared deep into his soul, he missed the feeling of your skin, he missed the beating of your heart. He missed you, too.

"You're home." You let out a soft sob as you hid your face in his shoulder, gripping on him tightly. You felt his arms tighten around you, too afraid to let you go, too afraid that either of you is going to dissappear.

"I am home. At last."

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Jabberjays | Johanna Mason

Pairing: Johanna Mason x fem!reader (District4!Finnick's sister!reader)

Summary: During the attack of the Jabberjays Katniss is introduced to a whole different Johanna.

Warning/s: a bit of angst, a bit of fluff, the quarter quell, jabberjays, panic, screaming, weapons, you know typical hunger games stuff, also this is more like a short blurb but yeah, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: I always wanted to write something about the Jabberjay attack so I absolutely loved the request! Also I made the reader Finnick's sister, I hope that's okay. Hope you enjoy!!

Request -> hi! i have a request for johanna!! could u do one where fem!reader and her are in a relationship that’s not secret just private (like only finnick knows) but something happens in the arena where johanna gets worried about r & finnick and katniss have a talk like johanna and katniss did in the movie abt annie? sry if that was too long or didn’t make sense! ty <33

Johanna just went into the thick forest to get some water with the spile that Haymitch send them so that they don't die of dehydration. She was regretting it now.

Katniss, Peeta, Beetee, your brother Finnick and you were on the beach. You were sitting with Katniss on the dry sand as you anxiously waited for Johanna to return from the forest as you stated at the hole in the sand that Johanna's ax made.

Thankfully, you thought to yourself, she took it with her.

Everything was relatively peaceful, too peaceful even. You didn't like it one bit. Something was coming. The game makers wouldn't allow the things to be so peaceful for so long. You were soon proven right as you heard the ear piercing scream that only seemed to shake through you.

"Johanna!" Your voice screamed back, every bit of common sense leaving you as you bolted towards the sound of Johanna's bloody-like screams.

You left your knives on the beach, along with the rest of your team that were screaming your name, confused from your actions as they tried to keep up with you. You were in a vulnerable place as you waved your hands around, trying to keep the thick leaves, that were swang down blocking your vision, away from your face as you ran still screaming Johanna's name as much as she screamed yours.

"Johanna!" You shouted as you reached the center of the forest where Johanna's screams were.

You were moving around in the circle, trying to determine where exactly her voice was coming from. After a while it hit you as you realized that her screams were coming from above. High in the trees. Then you saw the jabberjays flopping their little wings in the air, swaying the leaves of the trees and you knew that you fell right in the Capitol's trap.

"Y/N!" Finnick's muffled voice came towards you and you quickly turned towards him. Katniss, Beetee and Peeta were there with him, looking extremely concerned.

But why were they not coming closer?

The painful sounds of Johanna's screaming was messing with your head, panick gripping onto each and every fragment of your mind and body.

Why were they not coming over? Why aren't they helping? Why are they just standing there?!

Your felt your arms moving up, your hands gripping your head to try and kill the ever racing thoughts and the continuous mocking of the jabberjays. Then, as your eyes frantically searched the area, you spotted Johanna. Her eyes full of concern only reserved for her close friends and her love.

Then, the next thing that happened just confused you even more. Finnick grabbed her arm quickly, stopping her as she moved forward towards you, ax in her hand. She twisted her arm, releasing her arm from Finnick's grip as she yelled at him while he talked to her about something that you didn't hear. Her expression changed from concerned to utterly horrified.

"Y/N!" You heard Johanna's muffled, concerned voice mixing with the imitation of the screaming that the jabberjays provided.

You didn't think, the constant screaming was too much. You ran towards her, but came to a stop when your body hit something invisible. The force field. You started banging your hands against the force field trying to ignore the looks of pity and concern from your lover, brother and allies. You didn't want to except this.

The screaming intensified as the birds got closer to you, and you found yourself sliding onto the ground, screaming bloody murder just so you could tone down the sound of Johanna's and Finnick's torturous screams. Johanna was taping on the force field shouting at you something that you didn't understand.

That's how Johanna found herself banging her ax forcefully against the force field, trying to break it. Finnick next to her, hitting the force field with his trident, his eyes full of concern as he watched his baby sister's torture.

The new hour began and Katniss watched the scene in front of her not believing the state that Johanna was in. The hurried movements with her ax, the horrified expression on her face, her eyes full of concern. She cared about someone here. She actually, genuinely, cared about someone here.

°

"Y/N!" Johanna's voice reached your ears, tearing through the ringing in them as you swayed back and forth on the ground. "The hour is up! You okay! It's over! I'm here!"

After you finally came to your senses enough to look at her, you immediately wrapped your arms around her as tightly as you possibly could, not letting go.

"Johanna," You gasped through neverending sobs as your body shook against hers. "You're all right."

"We're both alright." She answered you with the softest voice Katniss ever heard.

Later on you all gathered at the beach once again. Peeta and Beetee went of a bit further away on the beach, looking for some food. Johanna and you settled down on the edge of the beach away from the rest of the team, but still in their eyesight, and finally Katniss and Finnick sat down, learning against the trees.

"Are they together?" Katniss asked Finnick, breaking the silence. "Johanna and Y/N?"

"Yes." Finnick answered immediately, his sea-green eyes snapped to look at her gray ones. "They didn't really keep it a secret, it was private. Only Mags, Annie, Haymitch and I knew really. They wanted to keep it in the close circle of friends."

"I've never seen Johanna act like that before," Katniss quietly murmured as she processed this new information that Finnick told her. "It was quite terrifying."

"Yeah, well," Finnick couldn't help himself as he chuckled playfully at her confession. "Johanna loves her so much. It is terrifying, honestly." He, however, continued on a more serious note. "Y/N won her games a year before Johanna. She helped her when she was going through tough times after she went out of the arena. Johanna lost her family. Y/N is the only thing that she lives for, now. She said it herself when I gave her, correction," Finnick held his finger up in the air, noting that he expressed himself wrongly. "Tried, key word tried, to give her I'm-her-older-protective-brother-so-you-better-not-hurt-her speach."

"And how did that turn out?" Katniss couldn't help but to ask, given how Johanna was she knew that his answer was going to be good.

"Oh, she smacked me across the head." Finnick smiled and Katniss found herself laughing at his answer just like she expected to.

Finnick and Katniss gazed to the couple that was still knee deep in the water, arms wrapped around each other as you sat in between Johanna's legs, your back leaning against her front.

"I'm glad that they have each other," Katniss spoke her thoughts out loud. "Even though they are so different they just seem to fit so well with one another."

"Definitely."

"What the hell are you two gossiping about?" Johanna called out causing you to giggle softly as you spoke.

"Yeah! And why the hell didn't you invite us?!"

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@caroline-books

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Feel free to send asks and requests. Don't be shy. This is a safe space and no judgment zone. No hate of any kind on this blog will be tolerated.

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Måneskin Masterlist

Damiano David

Thomas Raggi

Ethan Torchio

Marvel Masterlist

Bucky Barnes

Eurovision Masterlist

Jan Rozmanowski/Jann

Bojan Cvjetićanin

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes Masterlist

Young!Coriolanus Snow

Sejanus Plinth

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Katniss Everdeen

Johanna Mason

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Spencer Reid

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Taylor Swift Inspired Fics Masterlist

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Characters that I refuse to write for:

Old!Coriolanus Snow (The Hunger Games) -> romantically [I do, however write for, young!Coriolanus Snow]

Seneca Crane (The Hunger Games)

Gale Hawthorne (The Hunger Games)

Lord Voldemort (Harry Potter)

Lucius Malfoy (Harry Potter)

Bellatrix Lestrange (Harry Potter)

Peter Pettigrew (Harry Potter)

Albus Dumbledore (Harry Potter)

Severus Snape (Harry Potter)

Thanos (Marvel)

John Walker (Marvel)

Nick Fury (Marvel)

...that's it for now

°

Things I don't write about:

foot fetish

SA kinks

forced pregnancy

innocent!reader

yandere

dark![insert character]/dark!reader

incest

male!reader

romantic ships like Katniss x Haymitch or Peter Parker x Tony Stark...

gn!reader, black!reader or plus size!reader [I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING AGAINST IT, I just don't want to offend anybody by writing something I don't know about ♥︎]

romanticizing depression, anxiety, SA, SH and such

Ahhhh I love your writing so much, but remember it’s okay to take breaks! I hope your feeling okay and get better soon

Hi!

Thank you so much for the support love. This made me feel so much better. ❤️

The Sound Of The Woman Who Loved Her | Katniss Everdeen

Pairing: Katniss Everdeen x fem!reader (District11!reader)

Summary: Katniss needed to survive her games no matter the cost. So the new Capitol's darling does come in handy.

Warning/s: angst, betrayal, using someone for your own benefit, Capitol elite, kind of evil!Katniss, one sided love, lying, short fic (this is more like a blurb, honestly), possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: I can't edit the asks after I save them, so I copied the request like this. I'm dumb, sorry. 😅

Request: @f4riedimples -> I just rlly need Katniss admitting that she started out the relationship using (District 11) reader. Like say reader got treated like capitol after winning her games so after Katniss came back from the 74th they started dating. And just a night before the quarter quell she admitted that she used r?🤌

You were one of the unfortunate, unlucky, people of Panem. Being chosen for your games at 15 wasn't something that you ever wished for anyone including yourself.

But it seemed like your luck started to turn around as you won your games.

People that lived in the Capitol adored you. A young jewel from District 11. As you grew up so did the love of the Capitol's elite for you. You didn't like it one bit, but it did give you some advantages. Just like some disadvantages.

Katniss went into her games a year after you, so you were both 16 at the time. She was lucky she made it out, everyone agreed with that. But just as you got a little taste of luck in your life, everything started to shift around once you met the girl on fire from District 12.

She was desperate. Katniss new that. Since the year you won your games nobody ever stopped talking about you. You were the hot topic on everybody's tongue.

So when Katniss started her Victor's Tour and she realized in just how much trouble she was in, giving the spark of hope during her games, she knew that her family, friends and her needed protection. She was willing to do anything for it. No matter the cost.

Katniss Everdeen heard about you, how could she not? A shiny jewel from 11 that somehow ended up being treated as if she was from Capitol. As if she was one of them. She knew that if she had you not even president Snow, to whom you had become very indenting because of the love his granddaughter had for you, could bring any harm to her family.

She could remember that day as if was yesterday. You were standing behind her, looking gorgeous as ever. She still didn't truly understand how she pulled that act off. But by the end of the month you were officially her girlfriend.

Katniss noticed, as the time passed, that she gained more respect amongst the Capitol elite and for a moment it seemed as if they treated her as almost an equal, too.

Everything was going amazingly up until another party at the Capitol at which she was invited as your guest.

Perhaps it was her lack of self awareness.

Perhaps it was her idiocy at that moment.

Perhaps it was her recklessness.

Perhaps it was too much alcohol that she drank in hopes of drowning the everlasting guilt in the pit of her stomach that grew every single day.

Or perhaps it was the fact that she didn't love you like you loved her. She didn't love you at all. She only loved the benefits that came to her on a silver plate since she was dating you.

"Katniss," your angelic voice that usually sounded like the sweetest song caused by a bunch of little bells now, to her drunk mind, sounded piercing as it reached her ears. "Are you all right?"

"Y-ye-yeah." She slurred and felt herself flinch a little bit. She sounded just like Haymitch did when he drowned himself in alcohol all day back in District 12.

At that moment she noticed that she overdid it, and worst of all, you noticed it, too.

"I think it's time to call it quits," You offered her in, what almost was, a quiet whisper. "Hmm? How about I take you back to the penthouse?"

"N-no," Katniss drunkenly waved you off. "I'm f-fine."

"Katniss," You couldn't help but to let out a sigh that somehow escaped past your lips that were unnatural red color caused by some expensive Capitol's lipstick. "I'm just worried that-"

"Oh, you worry so much don't you!" Katniss snarled at you because, thankfully, she still had half the mind to know that if anyone heard you, you both would be in big trouble.

"Katniss, I love you and I just want to help-"

"Well guess what?" Katniss hissed, grabbing another glass that contained some sort of shiny liquid. "I don't love you."

Your world stopped for a moment as you froze, listening to her. You couldn't believe what was coming out of her mouth. You couldn't believe that this is the person you fell for. The person that you grew to know and love. But now, as you watched her and listened to her speak... perhaps you didn't know her at all.

"I don't love you at all!" She continued to mindlessly whisper to you, not caring about the amount hurt that she caused you at that moment. "I never loved you. But God..." she sighed for a moment, looking at the ground before she looked up at the night sky. "You were truly a jewel. So easy to use. So easy to manipulate into loving me even though I don't feel the same at all."

You were frozen. Nothing existed to you at that moment except for her, her words and one loose tear that rolled down your face as she whispered what you actually ment to her.

"Snow's precious victor. Capitol's little jewel..." she continued to rant, somehow not slurring anymore. "I despise you so much, but at least I got something useful from you. Useful. That's all you have ever been to me."

At that moment Katniss looked up, but you were gone. She would perhaps feel a bit bad about it the next day, she could easily say that she was drugged or something else caused her to say such lies. But they weren't lies and you knew it.

But there was something that Katniss didn't realize at the moment, but will later on.

She will never truly escape the sound of the woman who loved her.

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@caroline-books @thecrowdedstreetin1944

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The Squid Game Masterlist

✭ - smut

♡ - fluff

➳ - angst

۵ - hurt/comfort

☆ - headcanons

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The Salesman

"Would you like to play a game with me?"

Russian Roulette - After doing everything in your power to find the salesman who got you and Gi-hun into all this mess, he unexpectedly shows up in your motel room. [➳]

Red - After a tiring day, you're just trying to go home, but while you're waiting on your train, a handsome man in a suit stumbles on you. [♡]

"You don't trust people because they are trustworthy. You do it because you have nothing else to rely on."

Comfort - You knew that hunting down the salesman was going to be difficult, but after everything that you've been through in the games alongside Gi-hun, sometimes everything feels like it's going to suffocate you. Luckily, he's always there for you. [۵]

Blood Rain | Katniss Everdeen

Pairing: Katniss Everdeen x fem!reader (District4!reader)

Summary: Your mission in the games was to get the victors who the love of your life wanted to be allies with. You did it, but it is never easy.

Warning/s: angst and fluff, this is really just a little blurb, blood, blood rain, death, madness, weapons, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: Send requests for Katniss, Johanna and Cressida, I BEG YOU ALLL!!!

Where the hell is Finnick?!

Your angry thoughts continued to swarm you as you forced your legs to move along towards the beach. The beach. Water. You would quite literally kill for a few drops. All of you would.

Your feet were sticking to the leaves on the ground of the giant jungle due to the blood that covered you completely head to toe. The knifes pressed onto your suit were slightly digging into the skin of your legs as you took bigger steps, trying to get to the water at the Cornucopia as fast as you possibly could.

The biggest mistake you could have ever made was separating at the beginning of the games and now you had to suffer the consequences. Not that you had any choice, really.

When your platform raised up, putting you in the place from your nightmares you were standing quite far away from Finnick. The flash of the bright rays of sunshine were blinding you for a while and before you knew it you had to jump off of the pedastil. However you faced a major problem once you got in the middle of the water. You were rounding up Beetee, Wiress, Blight and Johanna who weren't able to swim. But once you did round them up you were attacked by Enobaria and Brutus. You couldn't fight them on your own as you tried to help your allies. You had no choice, you had to leave the idea of joining Katniss, Peeta and Finnick like you planned to. You had to run for the shore and loose yourselves in the vines and thick threes.

And that's how you ended up alone with Wiress, Beetee, Blight and Jo for a few days. You were severely dehydrated already so you were very happy once you heard something light hitting the leaves of the trees all around you. Only one thing could make those sounds. Raindrops. Now you could only imagine the shock planted onto your face once you realized that the things that were coming down onto you and your allies was not rain. Well, not rain made out of water. It was blood. It was burning you and was covering you too quickly.

This torture lasted for what felt like ages, but once it finally came to the stop you still didn't get out of the forest immediately.

As you ran ahead of the rest of the group, trying to escape the nightmares held within the forest, the living nightmares that tried to get you, the only thing on your mind was the safety of your lover. Katniss. God, you hoped that she was alive.

You didn't see her since the night before the games. You were lying with her in her bed, bringing her comport after yet another life inducing nightmare with which you were a little too familiar with. You met during your Victor's Tour the year that you won, but you became inseparable the moment she volunteered for the games to save poor Prim.

She was your everything. If you lost her you were sure that you wouldn't be able to pull through. So the moment Finnick and you heard about the rebellion you didn't waste a second, you joined immediately. You immediately accepted to join the plan of keeping the mockingjay safe. To get her out.

The moment you stepped out of the forest, yelling for your allies you heard the voice that belonged to an angel shout your name. It was the voice of your angel.

You tuned around as Katniss practically jumped on you, hugging you so tightly that you felt like you couldn't breathe. But it didn't bother you at all. The thought of her was one of the only thing that kept you going for a very long time now. You wrapped your arms around her quickly, afraid that she would disappear.

"What happened, Y/N?" Finnick's concerned voice brought you to reality, you had to separate from Katniss so you moved yourself away so you could look at Finnick but you never moved your hand that felt right into Katniss' away.

"It was horrible," You admitted, sighing a bit. "Jo, Blight, Beetee, Wiress and I rounded up at the beginning, but then Enobaria attacked us by the Cornucopia."

The rest of your allies that came from the forest weren't far away from you. Johanna was right on the other side of you, sticking her axe into the sand on the beach as she desperately tried to catch her breath. Beetee was leaned over, still in pain from the knife that he received in the back. Wiress was walking in the circle around you constantly repeating "Tick-Tock" over and over again. All of them were covered in blood just like you were.

The sight alone brought an uneasy feeling in Katniss. She looked at you once again, clear signs of dehydration were there along with the heavy breathing as you still tried to get the air into your lungs and the fact that you looked like you bathed in blood was enough for her to gripp your hand tighter in hers.

"We had no choice but to run for the forest," You continued your story, Finnick's pair of sea green eyes mirroring your own, a reminder of where you come from, watched you intensely as you spoke. "We stayed there up until now."

"What then?"

"Tick-Tock."

"We heard the rain coming down, but it wasn't rain." You ran your free hand through your hair as you let out a sigh.

"It turned out it was blood. So much blood. It was falling on us, choking us. We were stumbling around trying to get here gagging on it blind. But then Blight hit the force field..." You looked down, grief swallowing you at the reminder of Johanna's face at that moment. "And now he's gone..."

"Tick-Tock."

"What's going on with her?" Peeta asked, looking at Wiress.

"She's in shock," Beetee said as he removed his glasses, wiping his face while he tried to get rid of the blood that covered him. "The dehydration isn't helping. Do you have fresh water?"

"We can get some." Katniss' soft voice next to you spoke and you turned to her again, your eyes full of love.

"How about you go wash up?" Finnick smirked at you, obviously catching the look that you send Katniss. You just glared at your district partner, but you listened and started to walk towards the water, pulling Katniss along with you.

You're not letting her out of your sight again.

As you washed the blood off of yourself, your hair, suit, knives and everything you talked to Katniss. You felt like you could listen to her forever. And at the moment when you dove into the water completely to get the rest of the blood to go away Katniss followed the suit. You never took your eyes off of her as you watched her place her hands on your face, giving you warm smile, the smile that was only reserved for the ones she loved the most, before she pulled you in, locking your lips with hers. Away from the cameras for a few short moments.

From that moment on you swore to yourself that you would follow her anywhere.

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