Secret | James Hook

so uhh here's a list cuz there's a bunch for Jann cuz yeah he's Jann

Mornings with him

traveling with him

movie night

date night

night time routine (like face masks on eachother)

Jann meeting reader at a gig, they see eachother at a store and Jann recognizes R and they get eachothers phonenumber and they start hanging out and eventually dating (maybe a lil smut or a lot)

Marvel!AU OR Game of Thrones!AU or even as a Sith in Star Wars!AU

After Date Night (could be part 2 to date night and this is SMUTTY AF)

maybe another song of his like you did with Gladiator

Jann with hippie!reader cuz I never see a damn hippie reader (but not like crazy and unhygienic hippies, yk what I mean)

unable to sleep and Jann helps (fluff, and/or smut or maybe even to versions)

CUDDLES

going with him to Eurovision (imagine he actually went), maybe him winning Eurovision and at the hotel after (maybe extreme fluff or very very very smutty)

Jann's instagram when R and him are dating

R being sick and Jann takes care

Jann being sick and R takes care

R gets hurt and Jann gets a little help crazy like wont let her do a lot without him near incase something happens due to R's injury

yeah I got a lot more that I need to write down so I don't forget TY

So This Is Love | Jan Rozmanowski/Jann

Pairing: Jan Rozmanowski/Jann x reader (singer!reader)

Summary: Jann noticed you randomly during one of his gigs. Eventually, you both realize that you will be competing in Eurovision as you start to date and experience the love you have for each other.

Warning/s: long author's note (I'm sorry, but I had to say it cause it's important), possible grammar and spelling mistakes, smut, but like kind of. Explicit, but at the same time not really, idk.

Author's note: Okay, so right now my inbox is literally being stuffed with requests for Jann after I made that one fic, but I'm loving it so much. For this fic I want to say sorry because I couldn't include all of the stuff from the big request, but I included almost everything. I also got another Damiano David request so I will be getting around to that one as well after this so yeah. There will be more Jann imagines and always feel free to request and I will try to get around to everything. Anyway, enjoy!

(F/F) = favorite fruit

(Y/C) = your country

You were truly having the time of your life. You were jumping around with a few friends, dancing, laughing, just having fun on a free Friday night. It was ironic really, you wanted to stay at home and binge watch your favorite shows and sleep, but thanks to your friends you were dragged out in a club where some guy you have never heard of was performing.

You really didn't want to go, considering the fact that you didn't know the singer nor didn't you know any of his songs, but now you were so glad that your friends dragged you out of your apartment to have fun for a while. Even tho you were kind of annoyed, you were so thankful to your friends for this moment.

Now, as you looked at the singer, you noticed something. He was so gorgeous, so handsome. He was simply breathing and it made you speechless for a while. His voice what slightly rough, but he was hitting higher notes and it made you shiver, but in a pleasant way. He was so tall. His hair was a dirty shade of blonde that was perfectly falling on his shoulders. His eyes were piercing black in the dark room. Every inch of his face was proving you that he was an angel sent from heaven. It was truly hypnotizing.

Jan Rozmanowski was in his zone. He was gripping on the microphone as he sang his soul out in front of the crowd. However, somewhere among the crowd, all of a sudden, he stopped his gaze and got quite for a second or two. Thankfully, however, nobody noticed that little moment. Everyone was either too drunk to catch that or they just didn't care about that.

Jan spotted a beautiful, no, gorgeous girl dancing and laughing in the crowd. He was so mesmerized by her beauty that he wanted to stop his performance right there, right at that moment, just so he could talk to her. To get to know her. He felt his breath get caught up in his throat as he watched her sway around the room, her hair flying around her as she danced carelessly. He just couldn't wait to get off of the stage to go and to talk to her. However, once he was done with his performance and one he went to get himself a drink from the bartender, he noticed that she was gone.

But, as luck would have it, it seemed that the whole universe didn't want that to me your last meeting. You couldn't even call it a meeting, really. That was considering the fact that you didn't even get the chance to talk even a little bit. Luckily, you accidentally bumped into each other at the grocery store just two days after his performance in the bar.

You were snooping around the fruit section looking for (F/F). You probably didn't really watch where you were going when you kind of bummed against a tall guy. You felt leather material pressing against you as you did. You started spitting apologizes at the person you bummed into and he was doing the same. However, you felt as if somebody stole all of the air away from your lungs once you saw who you bumped into. It looked like Jan wasn't experiencing something much different from what you were experiencing at the moment.

"Are you stalking me, gorgeous?" He asked you in a playful manner and you couldn't believe that he actually noticed you among the busy crowd.

"I don't know." You couldn't help but blush a little as you talked to the handsome singer in front of you. "Are you stalking me? You know, bumping into each other in a grocery store... it a bit cheesy don't you think?" You joked.

"Perhaps it is." He laughed. "But you know. I am nothing if not cheesy for a pretty girl."

And so you talked. In the middle of the store, you talked for a very long while. It seemed like hours have passed unnoticeable, but you never got bored, never ran out of things to say to each other. After a while, you exchanged numbers and you said your goodbyes. Just as you got in your car, you noticed that your phone light up. Jan wrote you a message.

"Just making sure I got the right number. - Jan" The message said. You didn't even notice how quickly you grabbed a hold of your phone and started to type back a response.

"Yes, you have the right number. - Y/N" You wrote and not even a second later you got another text.

"Great, it would be a shame if I couldn't hang out with a beautiful girl I met at the gig anymore."

You continued to text each other for days until Jan invited you to go and grab a cup of coffee with him. You were so excited about the invitation, you couldn't wait to see him. And so, after you practically jumped down the stairs of your apartment, you stepped onto the cold, chilly weather as you started to walk towards a familiar caffe place. You walked in and immediately noticed him. Jan stood up as you approached him and gave you a hug that was just about as friendly and innocent as it could be.

You got talking and as you did that, you found out that he was still very new to the music industry just like you were. However, you quickly realized that he had much talent and you just knew deep in your heart and soul that he is going to accomplish great things. You also discovered that both of you were supposed to compete in a Eurovision song contest. You were both so surprised, but nevertheless so happy to find out that interesting piece of information.

Time seemed to fly by as you talked about everything and nothing. In fact, it flew by so fast that you didn't even notice how the light outside suddenly disappeared. You also noticed that it started to rain.

So after you paid for your coffees, you ran out into the rain. He was staying in a hotel not so far away from your apparent, so he strongly suggested that he should walk you home and so you had no chance but to accept his offer.

You were running around the city, laughing like a pair of teenagers. It was fine though, you felt like it anyways. You were soaking wet by the time that you got to your apartment. You didn't really know what it was.

Perhaps it was the tiredness, or the silly crush you both had on each other or perhaps it was the coldness that covered your bodies compelling you to find any sorce of heat. You truly didn't know what it was, but at that moment you got closer as you leaned against the door of your apartment. Jan and you could feel the hot breath on each other faces, looking longingly in each other's eyes before Jan finally broke the ice and pressed his lips against yours. And so you let him do just that. You were enchanted and it felt better that anything you have ever experienced.

After the start of the Eurovision song contest it felt like things were getting crazier. Once Jan and you were 100% sure that you will be representing your countries in Eurovision, you started to practice randomly at each other's apartments just for fun. Jan was competing with his song Gladiator and you were complimenting with your song El Diablo (A/N: let's be clear, I don't have any rights for this song, it's just for the sake of fic plus that is one of my favorite Eurovision songs so here you go).

After a while you both had to start with the process of packing for the contest, so it was safe to say that you didn't see each other for about a week because of the busy schedule up until you had to meet in Liverpool in United Kingdom for the competition.

It was all an emotional roller-coaster, truly. The competition was full of nervousness and joy and love and just amazing energy. You made some new friends and your relationship with Jan seemed to get stronger.

The weeks seemed to fly buy and so before you know it, the day to announce the winner has finally arrived. Poland and (Y/C) was sitting right next to each other as you anxiously waited for them to announce the winner. You were currently at 4th place and Jan was on second. Before you knew it, it was announced that Poland was the winner!

Jan and you jumped on each other and started to celebrate. You were hugging for so long that you eventually had to push him away so he could perform and get his prize. You felt utter, pure joy as you watched him sing his song Gladiator. You started to sing and dance, too. At that moment, it was like everyone was happy.

After your winner came down he quickly brought you into another hug and gave you a kiss. You could hear people around you cheer even louder, but you didn't really pay that much attention to them. You felt something else as you kissed him. It was a bit more different than your usual kiss. It was more passionate. More needy. It was full of longing. After that you had to attend a little after party and you just couldn't wait to go away for a bit. Luckily for you, all that wait was worth your while.

The moment that Jan and you walked into his hotel room, you were all over each other. Not like that wasn't a case the entire night, but still. He was kissing you so passionately, it was all oh so greedy. It was perfect.

Both of you slowly started to undress as you moved painfully slow towards the bed. Once you got there he slowly started to kiss your neck. After a while he started to slowly trail his kisses down your body.

"Are you sure?" He stopped to ask you that just as he was about to reach the place where you needed him the most at the moment.

And so, with a needy nodd from you it all began. It was safe to say that you were celebrating his win all night long.

Your life with Jan after you met him and after Eurovision only seemed to get better and better. It was as if it couldn't be more perfect.

You were sleeping in the bed, completely exhausted from the last night's activities. You were rudely woken up by a bright dim of the Sun coming through the window. You steached out in the bed noticing that your hair was spread out all over your pillow. Your hand accidentally fell onto the spot where your boyfriend was supposed to be laying in, but he wasn't. You found the other side of the bed to be completely cold. You groaned softly as you sat up, the sheets slowly falling down your naked body. You grabbed the first shirt that you could find and so you put on Jan's shirt and found out that it was truly to big for you. However, you didn't really care as you started to make your way towards the kitchen.

There he was. Jan was standing in the middle of the kitchen, shirtless, making coffee. As he noticed your presence, he turned around to face you. His messy hair falling perfectly onto his shoulders as his gorgeous crystal that represented his eyes looked at you.

"What are you doing up, gorgeous?" He asked you, his voice still raspy from the sleep. "I wanted to bring you coffee and breakfast in bed."

Yes, everything was truly perfect.

I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE MORE OF YOUR WORKS!!!

OMG, THANK YOU!!❤️ I'm really trying to write as fast as I can. I'm just very busy right now with school and all of that. But I promise that I will publish at least one fic this week. Thank you for the comment, have a nice day/night!

Do you think since Cinderella and the Queen friendship didn’t get ruined? They often visited each other at Wonderland or Cinderellasburgh which allow Red and Chloe to meet each other early on?

Hi!

I feel like this is actually true. I feel like Bridget and Ella stayed besties and visited each other often. I can definitely imagine them hanging out before and after they got their kids. Also, I feel like once Red and Chloe were born, they frequently visited each other for play dates and such.

And just when I thought that my obsession with him was finally over 😫 I love this so much!

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

Add yourself to my taglist.  / Masterlist

.#####.

"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.

.#####.

Add yourself to my taglist.  / Masterlist

Taglist: @writingmaneskin, @oro-e-diamanti, @iamtashaquinn, @teenyweenynightghost, @findaqueenwithoutaking, @foreveryking-thatdied, @findoutwhoyougonnacall, @maneskinbrainrot, @little-moonbeam-666, @ethaneskin, @maneskin-dimensione, @l0standn0tf0und, @butkutee, @gr8rainbowpunk, @maneslut, @maneskintifoso, @weareoddlydrawn, @hiraetheral, @imjustanerdwholikestoread, @cuzimitaliano, @hopelessromantic727, @dating-villain, @maneskinsimp, @till-you-scream-and-cry, @wonderlandishell, @h1ppieth1ngs, @paralianeyes, @livvyysstuff, @que–sera–sera, @roisinmillar123, @romanoffswoman, @lovelyy-moonlight, @crwnnjules, @roisinlove123, @whitewolf-writes, @lizzylynch1, @fugg1977, @maneaterdoll, @imposter-27

Måneskin Masterlist

✭ - smut

♡ - fluff

➳ - angst

۵ - hurt/comfort

°

Damiano David

If Not For You - As Damiano goes away on the tour with his band mates he has to deal with leaving his home behind. You. [۵♡]

Timezone - As Damiano and you are forced to be apart, you both slowly start to feel like you're loosing your mind. [۵♡]

Jealousy Game - You were ready for a lot of things, but you weren't ready for a woman at the competition you were attending to flirt with your secret boyfriend. [۵♡]

Papà - You woke up in the middle of the night just so that you realize that Damiano is not with you, but don't worry. You know where to find him. [♡]

Three Makes a Group - After bringing up the idea of group sex to your boyfriend Ethan, you have to deal with the consequences of your dirty mind. [✭]

How It's Supposed To Look Like - After being abused by your ex, you finally tell Damiano what happened and he shows you how the loving relationship should really be like. [➳۵♡✭]

Only Angel - You were in love with him for a very long time, but you didn't know that he loved you back. Until he decided to do something about it. [♡✭➳]

Thomas Raggi

Torna A Casa - Song that was promised to his one and only that he met on a lonely day in park in Italy. [➳۵]

Ethan Torchio

Three Makes a Group - After bringing up the idea of group sex to your boyfriend Ethan, you have to deal with the consequences of your dirty mind. [✭♡]

I Bet You Think About Me | Coriolanus Snow

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader (District12!reader)

Summary: On the day of his wedding he had everything... except for the bride that he wanted.

Warning/s: angst, kind of like hurt/no comfort kind of thing, wedding, marriage without love, Coryo is drinking alcohol, reader is basically Lucy Gray in this situation, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: I'M BACKK!! I missed writing so much, to be honest. All those Coryo and Lucy Gray edits to this song, plus the music video, inspired me to do this. Enjoy!

3 AM and I'm still awake, I'll bet you're just fine

Fast asleep in your city that's better than mine

And the girl in your bed has a fine pedigree

And I'll bet your friends tell you she's better than me, huh

Coriolanus Snow. The young president of Panem. He truly now felt like he had everything. He did an outstanding job as the Gamemaker. In fact, not long after, his work was praised so much that he could finally take that last step to get what he always, truly wanted. And he, in fact, did it. He was the newest president of Panem, and he knew that that was going to last for a very long time.

He had the title. He had the riches. He never had to starve ever again. He never had to wear poorly made clothes. He had the trust of the people in the Capitol, and he had the control of those in the Districts.

But as a president, everyone expected of him to choose his First Lady of Panem as quicklyaspossible, and he knew that it couldn't be just anybody.

So here he was today. Dressed up in a traditional but quite modern black tuxedo with a white undershirt and a purely white rose tucked into his suit on the right side of his chest. Standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom, preparing his wedding speech that he will have to say once he and Livia Cardew are standing on the aisle.

Livia Cardew. She was truly perfect for him. He didn't love her, of course, but that was also his own choice. That's what made her perfect for him.

Once he was forced to find himself a bride because every elite in the Capitol kept pushing, he realized that he truly had no choice. He had to keep up his reputation respectable. So, of course, he knew that his wife, the Future Lady of the Panem, couldn't be just anybody.

Livia Cardew was rich. Her family was too, of course. Their family was respected and considered quite important. Plus, she was pretty. He couldn't really deny that, really.

He chose power, money and reputation that Livia had instead of the love, kindness and compassion that came with you.

He chose it that day that he left you in the woods of District 12. He never knew what happened to you. Did you die? Did you manage to run away in the storm that somehow messed up his head. And perhaps High-as-a-kite-Bottom was telling him some sort of truth when he said that mysteries had a way of driving people mad. And perhaps, if he stayed with you, he would marry someone for love.

Coriolanus let out a groan, shaking his head in a poor attempt to shake those thoughts away. His love for you made him weak. Weak in a way that he never wanted to experience ever again.

Livia didn't have his heart like you did. He doesn't love her. Therefore, he shall never feel weak ever again. He wanted that. He wanted to never love Livia. It was easy, though. It was easy not falling in love with her. Easy compared to you.

But no! He simply refused to think about you on this day. The day of his wedding. He refused the thoughts of you to consume his mind once again. Coriolanus wouldn't let that happen.

So he turned back to the giant mirror that stood in front of him and started to go over his vows once again.

"My darling Livia. You are the most beautiful person I have every encountered." Coriolanus felt his breath shorten at his own lies. "And today, I am honored to be your husband."

It was so fake. It was so cheesy. It was so untrue.

He had to prepare the speech for his bride. For the bride that he never loved.

"Mr. President?" One of the servants came in and addressed him shortly. "It's time."

"I will be there shortly." Coriolanus replied coldly, and the servant closed the door behind him.

Once the door was closed shut once again, he let out a quite loud sigh. In just a few minutes Livia will become a Snow and he will have to proudly show off his little wife that tormented and made fun of him for years during his academy days.

With that thought, President Coriolanus Snow stepped forward towards the door. On the doorway, he lingered. He looked out of the window across his room. He looked out on the city of the Capitol and its glamor and riches and he once again came to a realization that Livia was a perfect fit for his lifestyle unlike you. But he won't ever think of you again.

With the thoughts of you that once again swarmed his head, he loudly closed the door behind himself. Slamming it shut.

Well, I tried to fit in with your upper-crust circles

Yeah, they let me sit in back when we were in love

Oh, they sit around talkin' 'bout the meaning of life

And the book that just saved 'em that I hadn't heard of

After the priest said everything that needed to be said and after Coriolanus, and Livia, did everything that needed to be done the young, freshly married couple walked towards the reception, quickly being surrounded by the Capitol's elite that eagerly introduced themselves like they were one of the most important people there.

Perhaps they were, not that Coriolanus cared even a slightest bit.

Livia was standing in the middle of the circle made by the numerous Capitol's elite while he was standing next to her, a glass of posca in his hand. He knew that drinking that liquid in his glass was not the smartest thing for him considering the fact that the alcoholic drink was perhaps a bit too strong.

Not like he considered it worth giving a damn. He needed something very strong to wash away the feeling of Livia Snow's lips on his once the priest said that he can now kiss his bride.

And now, as he took yet another sip from the tall glass, he still felt disgusted by her. Himself. The whole situation.

A few more minutes, that to Coriolanus felt like hours, passed by. The people's excited chatter. The joy of the new President and the Panem's First Lady was over-the-top evident on everyone's face, except for his.

Livia was bathing in attention that were given to her, smiling, quite pleased with the whole situation. Coriolanus felt like he was going to throw up as he watched the scene unfold in front of him as he, too, had to pretend to be happy with everything.

And perhaps it was to much of the posca that he drowned that night or perhaps it was all of the whiteness of the entire reception that made him think what he thought. Hear what he heard.

As he took another sip from the glass, he could have sworn that he heard that melodic voice that haunted both his dreams and his worst nightmares.

But now that we're done and it's over

I bet you couldn't believe

When you realized I'm harder to forget than I was to leave

And I bet you think about me

Coriolanus watched with wide eyes as you stood a few feet away from him, dressed in the blood-red dress that reached the floor barely as it hugged your frame perfectly. You, in your red dress, stood out so perfectly among the white clothes that every guest was required to wear. You stood out so much, he wondered how nobody but him noticed you.

You stood tall and proud by the enormously big wedding cake, which required the front door to be taken away so it could be placed where it was. Snow remembered watching the staff bringing in the cake, the door laying on the grass behind the servant as they carried the said cake. It was ridiculous.

You turned towards the cake, not noticing his ever so blue eyes trailing on you as you moved.

Coriolanus felt his breath shorten once again as he watched your everlasting beauty. He was suddenly very aware of the cool glass that contained posca in his hand and the cold sweat that was sliding down his spine. Was it panic? Was it anticipation? He didn't know.

He watched you as you stretched your hand out towards the top of the cake as you stood on the gigantic table where it was placed, your red heels clicking as you did so.

Suddenly, you knocked over two figures, one of himself and one of Livia dressed up for their wedding. He let out a quiet, barely audible, gasp as you did so and then slowly lowered yourself to the ground.

A little girl, dressed in white, a guest, appeared you as Coriolanus watched. You quickly froze, standing completely still. After a very short while, you slid your finger over the icing of the cake and put the finger in your mouth, tasting the cake.

The little girl smiled and did the same. You and the girl shared the smile before you struck your hand into the cake, ripping one piece out revealing the red color under the purely white cake before you shoved it into your mouth, eating it. The little girl ran off after getting the taste of the delicious cake as you chewed on your piece.

As you did so, Coriolanus and you established eye contact. You made a grimace that clearly indicated that you were disappointed that you had been caught.

Coriolanus Snow allowed himself to blink for a moment to compose himself, and once he re-opened, you were gone.

You grew up in a silver-spoon gated community

Glamorous, shiny, bright Beverly Hills

I was raised on a farm, no, it wasn't a mansion

Just livin' room dancin' and kitchen table bills

Coriolanus and Livia sat down at the front of the reception as the entertainer did his job. He entered the guests of the Capitol’s elite with the microphone in his hand, tight grip on it, which showed Coriolanus that he was nervous.

Coriolanus brushed it off because, all things considered, he was doing quite a good job. He even found himself laughing along to the jokes that were being made.

After one more joke, he turned to one of the Capitol’s elite to quietly, with a smile on his face, discuss the joke that was made. However, the moment he turned back around, his smile disappeared at the sight in front of him.

You were standing there, in a red suit, with a red microphone on your hands, making jokes.

"And then," you spoke in the fit of giggles. "He left me in the woods to die after he told me he loved me."

You laughed after it, and every single Capitol’s elite followed. Coriolanus felt like he wanted to die at that moment, the look of pure horror planted onto his face.

"And best of all was that he HIMSELF tried to kill me with a gun!" You smiled as you tapped a few times on the table near Livia as you pointed at him with a smile, and every single guest of the wedding reception broke into laughter once again.

This can't be real, can it? Coriolanus thought to himself as he watched you.

But you know what they say, you can't help who you fall for

And you and I fell like an early spring snow

But reality crept in, you said we're too different

You laughed at my dreams, rolled your eyes at my jokes

After that, you, out of nowhere, pulled out a little red box as you made your way towards Livia, who was looking at you with anticipation and excitement.

You handed her your gift as Coriolanus found it harder and harder to breathe.

Livia quickly, but gracefully, opened the box as she removed the ribbon on top.

And as she pulled out the shawl that belonged to Coriolanus' mother, he felt like he was going to scream at the top of his lungs.

It was the shawl that Coriolanus gifted to you back when the two of you took off into the woods. That was the only thing that he found once he started to chase you through the woods. He never found you, though.

Livia placed it around her as she thanked you for the gift. Everyone around you swooned at your sweet gesture as they clapped pleasingly.

You bowed your head down slowly after you drowned the glass of alcohol, falling into the crowd of guests. Disappearing once again.

Now you're out in the world, searchin' for your soul

Scared not to be hip, scared to get old

Chasin' make-believe status, last time you felt free

Was when none of that shit mattered 'cause you were with me

Coriolanus chased after you, trying to catch you. He was suddenly blinded by the light because of the photographer that was taking pictures.

After the photographer went away, Coriolanus rubbed his eyes as his vision, thankfully, turned back to normal. He looked ahead.

And there you were. In a while wedding dress. The back of the dress was trailing behind you. The dress was also graced by white roses all over it. Your hair was in a type of hairstyle that was holding it all up. Your eyes were watching his every move as you stood in front of him.

Coriolanus felt like he couldn't breathe, and so, for a moment, he felt himself longing to cherish every moment of this.

It was just like Coriolanus had imagined it. You as his bride, himself as your groom. It was everything that he truly needed. Everything he ever wanted. Just you and him. You two of you having your first dance as a freshly married couple.

Suddenly, all lights but one went away. The white light above you shined as Coriolanus tried to catch his breath.

He slowly stepped forward, and you immediately followed his lead. Soon, you were standing in front of each other. Chest to chest. So intimate. So perfect.

He slowly reached for your hand, placing it onto his as he soaked up the feeling of your soft skin against his.

He slid his other hand around your waist, bringing you closer to him as you placed your other hand on his shoulder. For a moment, everything stood still. For a moment, the only thing that Coriolanus could hear was his breathing and the beating of his heart.

Coriolanus and you leaned your foreheads against each other, noses brushing. Coriolanus closed his eyes. He never wanted this to end. Then you started to dance.

You were moving with such grace as he spinned you around. His hand in yours as you slided around the dance floor.

"Coryo," your soft voice that whispered in his ear broke the peaceful silence, and his eyes snapped to yours. His eyes. His ocean blue eyes that were always so cold now looked at you with so much gentleness and pure adoration.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything, my love." Coriolanus answered without any hesitation.

"Does it make you feel sad that the love that you're looking for was the love that you had?"

Coriolanus was speechless. The look in your eyes caused the lump in his throat to be stuck there forevermore. He didn't say anything. He didn't protest to your claim. How could he? You were right. On the day of his wedding, he wished to marry you, not Livia. He never found in Livia what he did in you, and he, let's be honest, never will.

Suddenly, before he could stop you, you moved away from him, letting go of his hand and shoulder.

But now that we're done and it's over

I bet it's hard to believe

But it turned out I'm harder to forget than I was to leave

And, yeah, I bet you think about me

You lifted the front of your dress a little bit so you could walk without tripping over. You gazed over your shoulder at Coriolanus before you continued to walk away.

Once you were far away from him, you turned around, quickly causing your hair to fall down your shoulders as you leaned towards him.

All of a sudden, your dress turned red, and as you took a hold of your guitar that he knew all too well (hihi, get it?) the white roses on your dress were painted red.

The white curtain behind you fell, revealing the red light and the Covey as you played your guitar, softly swaying to the music you made.

"I hope you get what you deserve, Coriolanus Snow," you spoke softly, meeting his eyes once more. "But I don't need to worry. You will get what you deserve one day."

With a soft smile, you started to sing.

I bet you think about me when you're out

At your cool indie music concerts every week

I bet you think about me in your house

With your organic shoes and your million-dollar couch

I bet you think about me when you say

"Oh my God, she's insane, she wrote a song about me"

I bet you think about me 🌹

->

->

->

TAGLIST:

@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @10ava01 @regulusblackcore @writesleah @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @caroline-books @runningfrom2am

Two robbed kings who won public vote but were screwed over by the juries this year

would you be against writing anything for natasha romanoff?

Of course not. Send in requests. Go crazy!

Here it is! I tried my best, hope you enjoy!! ♡ -> Jabberjays

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

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!! Thank you for the request, darling! ♡♡

Coming out tomorrow!!

So I may or may not have another heartbreaking Damiano (song) imagine in my drafts. 🤔

I may also have a Thomas (song) imagine in the works but who know really? 🤷‍♀️