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#peeta mellark x female reader
bruisedboys · 5 months
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reader and peeta showering together after a hard day (just some innocent intimacy nothing suggestive) 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 love this man sm 😭🤞🏻🤞🏻
!!!!!! thank you for the req angel <3 this inspired me so so much! thanks for kickstarting my writing for peeta era hehe
peeta mellark x fem!reader 16+ please for non-sexual nudity. not really in universe but can read as post mockingjay if you want it to!
Peeta’s sketching on the bed when you come inside. One knee propped up with his back against the wall behind the bed, his sketchbook pressed against his thigh. His golden hair falls over his forehead, messy where he’s been too distracted by his drawing to push it back.
He looks up when you enter, smiling a bruising smile you don’t feel deserving of.
“Hey. Hey, sweetheart.” It’s alarming how quickly he sets aside his book and pencil to reach for you, as if he hadn’t been immersed in his sketching mere seconds ago. “C’mere, I missed you.”
As much as you’d like to be wrapped in his strong arms right now, you’re filthy, and he’s just changed the sheets earlier today.
“I can’t. I’m all dirty, see?” You wiggle your dirt-covered hands at him. You’ve been in the garden all afternoon. Time drifted away from you as you planted a new batch of tomato seeds. By the time you were done, the sun was setting and you hadn’t even realised. Your knees are stained dark brown and you’ve got dirt up to your elbows. “I’ll shower first, then we can cuddle. Sorry, baby.”
Peeta looks decidedly put out. You turn away from him before he can convince you any further, because you know if he looks at you like that for much longer you’ll give in. You pull fresh clothes from your side of the dresser and then move down the hallway to the bathroom.
The showers warming up and you’re starting to undress when Peeta knocks on the door. It’s unlocked, and he doesn’t have to, but he knocks anyway.
“It’s me,” he says. Who else would it be? You think. Silly man. “Can I come in?”
You pull the door open for him instead of answering. You’re halfway out of your clothes but it doesn’t phase him. Sure, he looks, but not for long, and not in a way that would suggest anything other than affection.
“Hey,” he says. He pushes the door closed behind him. The shower runs in the background, a peaceful thrum. “Do you mind if I join you? You can say no.”
You huff a soft laugh. He should know by now that saying no to him is a near impossible feat. “Yeah, of course. I don’t mind.”
You finish undressing quickly, eager to be clean and warm. Peeta leaves to get fresh towels while you hop in under the hot spray. The majority of the dirt on your skin has been rinsed by the time he gets back. You hear him moving around the bathroom for a minute or so before he pulls the shower curtain aside. You let him in, moving aside to make space for him. It’s tight, but it’s not uncomfortable. Weirdly, it’s almost a perfect fit for the two of you.
Peeta moves under the shower head and the water quickly drenches one half of his hair and one of his shoulders. His big hand slides over your hip and he carefully moves you into a position where you’ve both got equal spray.
“Hi,” he says, smiling. He’s so close you could count his freckles, each light brown spot scattered across his collarbones.
“Hello,” you say back. His thumb rubs your hipbone, up down, up down. “Is it too warm?”
“No, it’s perfect.”
You smile and touch your palm to his cheek. “You okay?” You’re not asking because he seems out of sorts. You’re asking because you want to know, and if he’s not he’ll tell you. He does the same for you. It’s just how you love each other.
Peeta nods. “Yeah, I’m okay. How did your gardening go?”
You beam. You love that he cares about what you care about. “Good. We’ll have tomatoes growing out of our ears by summer, I think.”
Peeta laughs. It’s a brilliant sound that bounces off the shower walls and warms your chest. “Awesome,” he grins. Then, “Hey, you’ve got dirt under your ear.” He reaches behind you to grab the flannel hanging on the shower caddy. “Look that way for me?”
He holds you still with a hand at your jaw and rubs the dirt from your skin so gently you barely feel it. His touch is like a magnet — you’re drawn to it over and over again, no matter how generously he gives it to you. When he asks if he can wash your hair, you’d be crazy if you said no.
“Yeah, please,” you tell him, past caring how desperate and needing of his touch and love you are. He knows, anyway.
Peeta turns you by the hips so your back is to him, then gently tilts your head backwards. You hand him your shampoo and he squeezes a dollop onto his hands, rubbing his palms together before spreading the bubbles over the top of your head. He’s very, very gentle with it, much more than you’ve ever been, massaging the soapy, sweet-smelling bubbles into your hair, fingers rubbing circles onto your scalp. His dedicated touch, along with the gentle thrum and warmth of the shower spray, is enough to almost put you to sleep.
“Okay, you can rise now,” Peeta speaks up. His tone is soft and you suspect he’s noticed your sleepiness. He gets very soft with you when you’re tired. “Shut your eyes, please.”
You do as he says and he directs you under the spray. He holds a hand over your forehead like a barrier so the bubbles can’t escape and sneak into your closed eyes. The action in itself makes your chest ache. He cares more than you could ever comprehend.
When he’s done rinsing you finish scrubbing the dirt from your knees, your elbows. Peeta washes his own hair, and you help him rinse the same way he did for you.
“Thank you, angel,” he says. Warm water and soapy bubbles stream over his shoulders, his neck. His eyelashes are wet, clinging to each other in sparkly triangles. He dips down and kisses your shoulder, then your cheek. “Love you.”
You beam. You love him more than anything. You get on your toes to kiss him properly, a warm press of your mouth on his, a promise for more of the same later, when you’re clean and dry and fed. “Love you too, Peeta.”
-
thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if u enjoyed 🤍
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destourtereaux · 9 months
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just a little bit of hope - peeta mellark x fem!reader
⤷ summary: with katniss and gale both gone, peeta steps in as an unlikely hunting partner for y/n. ⤷ wc: 2.6k ⤷ requested? yes. see request here. ⤷ follow @lovebirdupdates and turn on notifs to be on my 'taglist'!
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⤷ a/n: two things - one, peeta has dimples here, it's just how i imagine him, so please bear with me; two, pretend gale's father is alive please, i didn't think our girl would be able to support two families, no matter how strong she is.
___
The day is horridly warm, exacerbated by a heavy humidity. As you wake, hot air suffocates your surroundings, and the sun glares through the window, hung on a span of blue sky. Pushing yourself up on your elbows, your bare feet find the ground, then immediately retract. The floor is burning hot, baked by the sun. You grit your teeth and force your feet back onto the wood, ignoring the searing heat. You have things to do.
You make a bowl of porridge, watery, but edible. You drink half, and leave the rest for your mother. Your father is off to the mines already, his boots absent. You get dressed, pulling on the prettiest dress you own. You're ready. Or, as ready as one can be. 
Today, there will be no hunting with Katniss and Gale, no trading at the Hob. Today, there is only the reaping.
___
You spot Katniss at the edge of the square, gripping her sister's hand. Your friend looks nothing like she normally does. Gone are the boots and hunting jacket, replaced by a simple blouse tucked into a modest skirt. You nod grimly at her; neither of you feels like smiling.
Gale is over on the other side of the square, across from the stage they've set up. Your eyes meet, and he mouths "good luck".
After a few minutes of the routine announcements, Haymitch is introduced, then Effie. By now, the crowd has settled into an air of grimness, despite the clear blue sky overhead.
You don't hear Effie's jokes, and nobody laughs. She finally stops smiling, looking extremely awkward – you almost feel bad for her. Almost.
Then, she sticks her hand in the ball of names, each carrying a life, and pulls one out. Her smile is back on her face when she announces, "Without further ado, our female tribute is: Katniss Everdeen!"
You freeze, repeating her words in your head as if hoping they'd sound different. Your oldest friend – determined, brave Katniss, given a death sentence.
But Effie doesn't wait. Her next words are just as devastating. "And for our male tribute: Gale Hawthorne! Come on up now, dear, don't be shy."
Peacekeepers erupt through the crowd, grabbing your two best friends in the entire world by the shoulders, and forcing them up to the stage. Katniss whips her head around, looking at you with pleading eyes. You know what she's asking for.
"I'll take care of her, Katniss. I won't let her die. And you can't let yourself die, okay? Promise me. Katniss! Promise me!"
Your last words are hysterical, but ironically, Katniss is not. Having heard your commitment to Prim, she is satisfied. She yanks her arms free of the Peacekeepers and walks by herself, her head held high and her face serene.
You grab Prim's hand. Her whole body is shaking, wracked with sobs. You don't hear Effie's last words, but you know what they are.
"May the odds be ever in your favor."
___
It's been two weeks since the reaping which stole your best friends. It's shocking how quickly you fell back into routine, as if nothing has even changed. The only indicator of their absence is an added part of your day: splitting your earnings between your family and Prim's.
There are now double the mouths to feed, so you spend double the hours in the forest hunting. Villagers are sympathetic – that may be the only reason you're all still alive. They love Prim, and they trust you. Everything you hunt manages to be traded.
But still, you're cracking. It's just too much, and you don't know if it'll ever get better. You have no idea what Katniss and Gale are going through right now, and you don't let yourself think of them. It would break your heart.
___
Peeta Mellark has always been observant. His teachers told his parents this, back when he was a child. It's this trait that makes him notice you. The girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders, killing herself day after day to provide for not one, but two whole families.
He doesn't understand how no one else sees it. But maybe they do – it's just that no one in District 12 is really in a position to do anything about it. Still, the fact remains that you're close to breaking. You can't keep doing this alone.
Peeta Mellark has never been brave. His mother yells at him, beats him, and he takes it. He has never talked back to teachers, or dared disobey the Peacekeepers. So when he offers to hunt with you, he surprises even himself.
"What?"
"I'm Peeta Mellark. We were in the same class, and my parents run the bakery. I was wondering if I'd be able to hunt with you?"
So you weren't hallucinating. The baker's son – a boy you didn't think could kill a fly – had just asked to hunt with you. Your shock translates into a small laugh, not that anything about the situation is funny, really. Hurt flashes in Peeta's eyes, and you quickly backtrack.
"I'm sorry, that was rude. I'm Y/N L/N, I know who you are. I just didn't think you'd be the hunting type," you explain. Because you're gentle, and kind, and I've never seen you hurt anyone, with your words or physically. But you don't add that last part. 
"I've only ever hunted with Katniss and Gale, you must know them, they were reaped this year." Your voice cracks a bit with those last words, and Peeta acknowledges the fact with a nod. His hand twitches; he wants to pat you on the back, or grip your shoulder, anything to stop the melancholy leaking into your eyes, but he doesn't.
"But you're welcome to join me," you end with a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.
___
The new partnership starts early the following day. You meet a groggy Peeta near his home, and the two of you begin the walk to the Meadow.
You hear no electrical hum from the fencing, which means it's safe to touch, and you guide Peeta across the boundary which separates the Seam from the forest. This is all illegal, you know, but you're too used to it to even notice. Peeta, on the other hand, feels an exhilarating sense of rebellion as he crosses the barbed wire, following your figure into the woods.
"You've never hunted before, have you?" you probe, although it's more of a confirmation than an actual question.
Peeta nods. "But I'm a quick learner. And I won't get in your way, I promise."
You smile, a genuine one this time. "We'll see about that, Mellark."
Over the next hour, you go over all the traps you had set from the day before, collecting from Katniss and Gale's traps as well. True to his word, Peeta picks it up quickly, and even has a great eye for camouflaging the traps. This becomes his task, using grass and twigs and flowers as his medium, painting a deceptive scene which looks safe and welcoming to the many squirrels and rabbits in these parts.
You also start him on foraging. Only one type of berry is poisonous in the Meadow, and it's easy to identify. You make sure he's clear on which to avoid, and leave him to it, while you head to the hollowed out tree where you've hidden your knives. The familiar sight of Katniss' bow and arrows within the trunk brings a pang in your heart. You leave them nestled within and retrieve only your daggers. You were never a good archer.
Another hour passes, and you return to Peeta with a deer. You're happier than you have been in weeks – this will be enough for almost a week's worth of food. Peeta is not empty-handed either, he has two buckets of progress, one filled with strawberries, the other with raspberries. He gives you a soft smile – he has dimples, you think. He then immediately turns a faint shade of green, having noticed the dead deer. 
You're seized with the desire to laugh, "Why'd you offer to hunt with me if you get queasy from the sight of game?"
He looks at you with an indignant pout, and you can't stop the giggle that tumbles out, then the full on laughter. 
"I'm not like this with all game, just, you know, the larger animals. I can look at dead squirrels just fine – stop laughing!"
Making your way back, within the District, you stop just outside of the fence to split your gatherings.
"Take the squirrels and rabbits, and the bucket of raspberries. I'll keep the deer and trade the strawberries with the mayor," you offer.
"No, you take it all," he crosses the barrier carrying the buckets, and you follow after him, shaking your head.
"I can't, Peeta. That wouldn't be right. This is a fair split."
"I never said I wanted to keep what we hunt. Only that I wanted to hunt with you, Y/N. Take it. I know you need it more than I do. I'll see you next weekend?"
And with that, he pops a strawberry in his mouth, smiling at the sweetness, and walks away.
You're left with your mouth open, unable to process what had just happened.
___
The next morning, you show up at the bakery. His bakery. You earned a few dollars from selling your strawberries to the mayor, and you figure that if Peeta won't take anything, you should buy from him instead.
A few dollars is enough for two loaves of good bread, and so you head to the bread aisle. But your gaze catches on the beautiful cakes on display, decorated with multi-colored icing and swirling script written in melted chocolate.
"I did those," comes a voice from behind you.
Whipping your head around, you see Peeta himself, looking at the cakes with fondness and a bit of pride.
"You did what?"
"The cakes. I decorated them. My mom bakes, but I decorate. I like doing it – it's like painting, just on a different canvas."
"They're really lovely. You have a talent for it," you confirm, "I bet that's why you were so good at hiding traps yesterday. You can see nature's patterns."
He gives you a soft smile in return, and you can see the dimples again. They're adorable, you think. I want to see them every day.
He gives a small cough, looking at you questioningly.
You startle, and blush a deep crimson. "Sorry, I lost my train of thought. I'm here to buy bread. Two loaves," you say as you lower your head to stare down at the ground, refusing to meet his eyes.
It's only when you hear a chuckle that you lift your head back up. Peeta's eyes are sparkling, and his dimples are clear as ever.
"I'll give you three."
___
Two months after the reaping, your partnership with Peeta is still going strong. Every Saturday, the two of you head to the woods, and spend half the day fishing, gathering, and hunting. Originally silent company has evolved into true friendship, with witty banter, fleeting touches, and shared smiles.
You have come to know Peeta Mellark. He isn't just the baker's son, the one who decorates cakes and hates seeing dead animals. He's the boy who saved you, when no one even knew that you needed saving. 
Day after day, he has shown up, offering kindness, companionship, and warmth, without expecting anything in return. You care about him more than you thought you could ever care about someone who wasn't family. You care about his messy blond hair, and you care about his broad shoulders. You care about his blue eyes which sparkle when he tells a joke, and his beautiful heart which leads him to give the occasional customer an extra free loaf. Most of all, you care about his dimples, which come out when he smiles at you. You care so much about him, that it scares you.
And Peeta cares about you. He cares about your hands, calloused but nimble, lethal when holding onto your twin daggers. He cares about your face, how it glows when you laugh at his jokes in the woods, but dims a bit when you're back in the district. He cares about your hair, always tied in a ponytail when in the Meadow, but left to flow freely down your shoulders when hunting's over. Most of all, he cares about your smile, which comes out when Prim thanks you week after week for your help, and forces you to take bottles of goat milk and pet Buttercup. He cares so much about you, that it scares him.
___
This hunting day, Peeta comes with news from the Capitol. A few weeks back, he started giving you updates on the Games, after you told him that you couldn't stomach the thought of watching your friends fight to the death.
"Y/N! Good news!" he greets, exiting the bakery. As the two of you begin your walk, he adds, "I'll tell you when we get to the Meadow."
"You're insufferable, Mellark. You can't just hook me like that, and not tell me what it is."
Peeta doesn't answer, so you start walking twice as fast, ushering him toward the edge of the Seam so you could figure out what exactly he wanted to tell you.
Once in the grassy plains of the Meadow, between the forest and the fence, you turn back to the boy, the impatience evident in your face.
"Tell me, Peeta, or I swear I'll –"
"Alright, alright," he laughs, "but it's not really good news, per se. It's just a little bit of hope."
You nod, urging him to continue.
"It's about the Games. About Katniss and Gale."
The last traces of your smile fade. Concern is etched onto your face, and your eyebrows scrunch up, your jaw tightens.
Noticing this, Peeta pulls you in by the waist, so that your head lands on his shoulder. "It's good news, Y/N. Don't look so defeated. They're both still alive, and they're fighting."
"But at least one of them won't be coming back," you whisper into his neck, so quietly you wonder if he even heard. But Peeta always hears you.
"Y/N. That's the news. They could both come back. Caesar Flickerman has just announced that they will be changing the rules this year – allowing two victors of the Games, provided they're tributes from the same district!"
You look up at him in awe. A change to the Games. Katniss and Gale, not one or the other. Both could win. Both could come back.
You choke down a sob, staring at Peeta's brilliant smile and those mesmerizing dimples. And before you can process what you're doing, you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his in a bout of bravery.
Peeta's frozen for a second, before he begins to reciprocate the kiss in earnest. He pulls you in, one hand holding your neck and the other wrapped around your torso, pressing himself impossibly closer. He tastes like icing and strawberries, and you can smell the comforting scent of warm bread.
The kiss ends far too quickly for your liking, and you're suddenly impossibly shy, all bravado gone. You lower your eyes so you won't have to meet his eyes, but realize that you're practically sitting on his lap, having moved there at some point during the kiss. This observation brings a flaming blush onto your cheeks, and you scramble to move away, but you're held in place by Peeta's arms, forming an iron-tight cage around your figure.
He brings a hand to your chin, lifting it up, and kisses you again, more gently this time.
"Don't go all shy on me now, Y/L/N," he teases, and holds the back of his hand against your forehead, as if feeling for a fever. "You're burning up, darling."
"You know damn well that's not a fever–", you start, but you're cut off by his laughter, and once again distracted by those dimples of his. 
Maybe Peeta was right. Maybe there is just a little bit of hope left for you.
___
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ghostofskywalker · 5 months
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Hi how are you? Well, I hope. I wanted to request:
"Should I stop talking?" || "Don't, your voice is very soothing" with Peeta Mellark please.
Thank you!
i'm doing well, thank you!! i absolutely loved this prompt, thank you for giving me a chance to write some hunger games fic!
words: 822
summary: You and Peeta spend time in a cave, attempting to fall asleep in the arena.
Belief in Love Can Outweigh All Odds
note: in this fic the reader is taking katniss' position as the female tribute from district 12 in the 74th hunger games. no specific combat specialty or other description is noted.
peeta mellark masterlist
It was cold, damp, and dark in the cave, and you knew that there was no way you were going to find sleep anytime soon. The amount of adrenaline currently flowing through your body was making sure of that, along with the sharp pain that still emanated from the sizable wound on your arm. But as bad as you felt right now, Peeta was looking a lot worse. He shivered and twitched in his sleep, the medicine you had almost paid for with your life working much too slowly for your liking. 
You didn’t necessarily believe the Head Gamemaker’s voice in the sky, that the Games could have two victors if they came here from the same district, but you also didn’t want to give up on the tiny flicker of hope that had taken hold in your heart, the hope that you would be able to go home without having to kill a boy you had grown up with. 
You cared for Peeta, and that alone was worth the pain of betrayal you might feel down the line. All of this had started as a ruse to get sponsors, the way you felt about each other, and so far it had worked. But what you didn’t really want to admit to yourself just yet was that those feelings were very quickly becoming real. It was a side effect of the games, you tried to tell yourself, the way that your emotions heightened by the hour, but you knew it to be false. The Capitol would never knowingly facilitate the growth of emotions like love or kindness in this arena, they laughed and cheered at the appearance of tributes’ animalistic tendencies, taking a perverse comfort in the way human beings would do anything if it meant they would get to walk away alive. 
And speaking of your fellow District 12 tribute, you watched as he began to stir awake. “Are you okay?” he whispered, immediately turning his attention to you. 
“Yeah,” was your slightly shaky response. “No one is going to find us here.” 
“How’s your arm? Does it still hurt?” 
You shook your head. “I’m fine. And you know, I should be the one asking you how you’re doing, not the other way around.”
“I told you not to risk yourself for me and you still did,” he said, a smile flickering over his face as he registered your weak attempt at a joke. “I don’t think I will ever be able to repay you for that.” 
“You don’t have to repay me.” 
“I can’t-” 
But you cut him off before he could finish speaking. “Peeta, I mean it. We’re in this thing together until the end, and right now just being alive is enough for me.” 
His hand reached out to rest on your cheek, and the look in his eyes was something you never wanted to forget. He certainly was able to act the part of the lovesick teenager better than you were, and part of you almost believed that this moment was real. 
And of course, it only became more believable when he leaned in and kissed you. 
You had shared a chaste kiss with him once before on the tour, as a way to ward off any rumors of deceit or trickery, but this was much more passionate. Both of you were covered in dirt and grime at this point, but you didn’t care one bit as you kissed back. The little voice at the back of your mind informed you that the entirety of Panem was probably watching you right now, but even that didn’t really matter. Right now, you just wanted to enjoy this moment. 
When you finally pulled away, there was a smile on your face that you would never be able to hide, no matter how hard you tried. “We’re going to be okay,” you said softly as you settled next to him, your head gently resting on Peeta’s chest. “We’ll win the Games, and then we can return home together. We can-” 
But he cut you off by reaching down to take your hand, getting you to turn and look up at him. “We should get some rest,” he said. “We’re not out of here just yet.” 
You weren’t sure you could truly get yourself to sleep, especially after what just happened between you two, but you nodded. “So what you’re saying is that I should stop talking?” 
“Maybe,” he said, a small laugh escaping his mouth. “Don’t actually, your voice is very soothing.”
You smiled before continuing to speak, telling Peeta random bits of information about the forest and stories from your family back home in District 12. You could tell when he finally fell asleep, his breathing slow and steady as you listed to his heartbeat, and all you could do was desperately hope that the two of you would actually be able to make it out of here alive. 
- the end -
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chaosology · 1 year
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seven series
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Peeta Mellark x fem!Reader
Driven apart by time, Peeta and Y/N are chosen to represent their district in the 74th annual Hunger Games.
1. we can be pirates 2. i can't recall your face (soon, if its successful)
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deadgirlzneedlovetoo · 6 months
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omggg whenever you're free can you do more nsfw josh hutcherson headcanon 😭 hes my love and i'm obsessed with your writing!!
𝐉𝐨𝐬𝐡 𝐇𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 pt : 2
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  He’ll leave hickies all over your neck and body for everyone to see (and also in places they can’t see) to mark his territory. he thinks they look so pretty on you.
     He has an obsession with fucking you. he’s addicted to how good it feels to be inside of you. 
    Trying to sleep? doesn’t matter. trying to study? doesn’t matter. trying to cook? doesn’t matter. he’ll force your thighs open whether you want it or not. 
  “aww you don’t want this? then why’s your pretty little pussy dripping for me?”
    He gets a little too rough sometimes and he loses control. he’s got some pent up anger that becomes increasingly apparent from the way he chokes you as if he’s trying to break your neck. or the way he leaves purple hand prints on your ass. or maybe it’s the way he fucks your sore cunt relentlessly and you’re bedridden for days. 
    Bruises accompany the hickies he leaves on your skin. 
  He will make you suck him off till your jaw aches. loves the way your pretty lips wrap around his swollen cock. 
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summerdiphylleia · 5 months
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The next right thing
Chapter 1: The 74th Hunger Games
Summary: Felicia has always been succesful at overlooking the tributes' names and faces, but ignoring Katniss Everdeen was proving to be a rather difficult task. And she hated herself for it.
pairing: coriolanus snow x wife!oc
Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2
*******************
“Are you ready, my dear? Our guests are arriving.”
Felicia stood against the bathroom counter, staring at the mirror. The same mirror that had been looking back at her for over twenty years. Two decades, wasting away in that mansion. It was hard to believe so many years had passed, but the reflection in front of her reminded Felicia of all the years gone by. There were wrinkles around her eyes, and the skin sagged a little around her cheeks and her neck.
She was often offered ‘enhancements’, as they liked to call it in the Capitol, but she refused all of them with a polite smile. She liked the way she looked, worn down as she was. Her eyes remained the same tender, amber brown, although they carried more wisdom and worry than before. Her hair still bore hints of the soft, buttery blonde colour she kept from her youth, but was starting to get lost within the handful of grey hairs she’d grown in the last couple of years. She usually had them fixed by her hairdresser, but didn’t brood on it so much. She took pride in carrying sixty years of age, and she didn’t mind showing it. 
She turned around, and found her husband waiting with a hand extended for her. He also showed signs of ageing, even more so than her: his once impeccable blonde hair had turned completely white, and his face looked withered down; like her he had declined any offers of going under the knife. 
But he had kept his height —he still very much towered over her— and every so often, when the Games were far off and politics sat low on his mind, Felicia could swear she got glimpses of his younger self on his eyes: on the way they curved into a smile after she teased him, on the way they shone whenever they discussed a subject he was keen on, on the way they kept on sharing that spark, that boyish grin, with a man from her past that hadn't been as yearning for power, as corrupted by it. 
“Your bowtie is not properly fastened,” she chuckled, reaching towards him, “let me get it.” 
He studied her, while she worked on fixing his tie, leisurely scanning her from top to bottom. She wasn’t wearing anything too fancy, a simple maroon dress embroidered with small golden flowers, and a pair of small heels matching in colour. Her hair was half up in a bow, and makeup sat simple, not at all too extravagant, on her face. “You look ravishing, dearest.” He whispered, lovingly. She kept focused on straightening his bowtie, but she could feel her cheeks turning the colour of her dress. She wished he wouldn’t say such things so often. It sounded so real. 
Felicia simply hummed in response. “Arabella called,” she explained, in a soft voice, “she told me Max and her wouldn’t be able to attend today’s… gathering.” He stiffened at her words. 
“As they couldn’t last year. And the year before.” He remarked. Felicia briefly glanced at him, and returned her gaze to his collar. “There,” she mumbled, patting on it, “all fixed. You look very handsome.”
He didn’t reply to her, and simply adjusted his suit. He didn’t share his words with her, but she could guess what kind of thoughts raced through his mind. Every time they drifted onto that particular issue, her mind replayed one conversation they had many, many years ago. 
“What exactly are you accusing me of? Turning our infant children into rebels?” She snickered, chasing after him at an amused pace, but Felicia quickly regretted her words. Coriolanus went still, and when he turned around, the look on his face made her flinch. That was the only time she ever felt truly afraid of him. He didn’t just convey rage through his eyes, his whole body swelled on it. He suddenly grew inches in height, and his expression darkened, and she was nothing but a little girl once again. She felt all of her boldness flush away at the sight of him, regretting having allowed herself to yield into such insolence. 
He strode towards her, eyes narrowing in a viperous manner, “don’t joke with that,” he hissed. She raised her gaze, her eyes met his, and anger dropped from his face all at once, and he swiftly glanced around. “Don’t say things like that out loud, you know better than that.” 
She lowered her head. She did know better than that. 
She hated losing her temper. Every time she lost control, he took it. 
Felicia pursed her lips. “I’m sorry,” the words dragged out of her mouth, “but I’m setting my foot down on this. I don’t want them watching that… that thing.” 
Irritation flashed through his eyes once again, then he turned his back at her, and started walking away. “Fine.” 
That was the first time, but not the last one, that an orange pill found its way into her nightstand. 
Felicia blinked the memory away. “Don’t dwell on it, darling,” she sighed, “they’re too busy with work, that’s it. I’ll call them and arrange dinner for the five of us some other time, alright?” 
It was his turn to simply hum in response.
***********
The day went by in a blur. Felicia put on the same act she does every time she’s surrounded by such a crowd: she smiles, and laughs and comments on everyone’s gowns, and makes sure no guest ever has to stand with an empty glass on their hand; and she keeps close to Coriolanus and kisses him and pretends they are a perfectly loving couple. Surprisingly, that remains the easiest part of the facade. 
She doesn’t really pay attention to anything in particular during those days, rather she seeks a void within her. To her, the reaping was nothing but an affair she needed to get through, as cautiously as possible. She doesn’t focus on any of the tributes, she always tries to ignore their faces; they would all die anyway. All but one. One lucky Victor. A lucky child she would get used to seeing in most of the pretentious parties she attended, usually accompanied by a disturbingly older man from one of the high positions in society, who didn’t need to care about keeping his hands to himself. Only seldomly she wouldn’t see said Victor around in such gatherings and, not long after their absence was noted, she would hear the news of their family passing away in some tragic accident. Those nights she went to sleep concluding she’d made an art form out of turning a blind eye. 
The reaping came and went, and before she knew it she found herself in front of the whole Capitol, watching along the parade of the twenty four tributes. Once again, Felicia forced herself into haziness, avoiding to stare at any particular tribute. But the cameras kept on focusing on two of the tributes, though, and their faces were shown on the screens more often than not, even during the President’s speech. She recognised them, they were the two tributes from District 12. Felicia remembered her reapings. That girl… Katniss Everdeen, she’d volunteered for her sister, a little girl whose expression of fear made it obvious it was the first year her name was on the bowl.
Felicia scolded herself for remembering her name. It would hurt so much more when she ultimately learnt of her death. 
***********
The gardens were in full bloom that time of the year, and Felicia often found herself walking around them, buntal hat on her head, and a pair of pruning scissors on her hand. That morning she was being accompanied by her husband, and Theodore, their youngest son. He was a tall boy, with piercing blue eyes, just like his father. His older brother, Maximus, had also inherited most of Coriolanus’s appearance. It was Arabella, the marriage’s only daughter, who looked the spitting image of her.  
They were strolling around the rosarium, tending to the flowers, when Ivan, Coriolanus’ personal bodyguard, a big, brooding man with eyes of a hawk, approached them in a soft trot. “Mr. Crane is here to see you, sir.” 
“Ah, yes,” her husband nodded, putting his scissors on Theo’s hand, “I’ve called for him.” Felicia turned her gaze towards him, annoyance creeping on her mien, but didn’t say anything. She forced her face into a welcoming expression, as Ivan brought the younger man to them. 
“Seneca,” she greeted him in a kind tone, with a warm smile while offering her hand to him, “how lucky of us you’re visiting us.” 
“Mrs. Snow, you look as exquisite as always.” He addressed her, leaving a kiss on her hand. He bore a worryingly stiff grin on his face. “Sir, young man.” 
“Do tell me you’re joining us for lunch?” She urged him, with a cadence only her husband would be able to recognize as fake. “The cook is making some delicious salmon bites, you would be a lunatic for missing them.” 
“I’m afraid I’ll have to decline, Felicia, the Games don't run all by themselves.”
She turned her lips into a cheeky pout, and then her face split into a grin. “Then you’ll have to let me invite you over some other time, so I can properly commend you for the wonderful job you’re doing on them.” 
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He smiled.
Coriolanus and Felicia shared a brisk glance, and she took Theodore by his shoulder. “Come on, sweetling, let’s keep our path. There’s a rosebush over there that desperately needs our help.” 
They waved the gamemaker goodbye, and moved on with their way. Theo looked at her like he wanted to say something else, but she discreetly shushed him, guiding him into a more isolated spot, away from the two men and prying ears of the greenkeepers. 
The pair sat on a bench, next to a particularly unkempt bush, and she showed him where the plant needed to be trimmed and neatened. 
“Mom, why do you hate Seneca?” The boy asked, cautiously, while indifferently working on the roses. 
The question caught her by surprise, and Felicia couldn’t help but giggle, until she saw the serious expression on his face.“What makes you think I hate him?” She questioned him, puzzled. 
“It is because he’s in charge of the Games, isn’t it?” He muttered, “I don’t like him either.” 
Felicia put the scissors away, and gently stroked his hair. “Sweetheart, where is this coming from?” She asked. 
“They make us watch the Games at the Academy, did you know?” He explained, meeting her gaze. She nodded. Of course she was aware. She knew it was only a matter of time before he started commenting on it. “Most of my classmates think it’s some kind of… show, like it’s nothing but entertainment.” 
It pained Felicia to see the defeated look on his face, but she couldn’t help but think of how lucky she was to be having such a conversation with her son, condemning the Games from their very privileged position. She couldn’t bring herself to imagine what mothers in the districts were forced to tell their children. Once again, a sneaky thought crept into her mind. “What if you killed him?”  She blinked it away. 
“Well, you can’t blame all of them, honey,” she sighed, “it’s what they’re instilled.” 
“I know,” he murmured, “I guess I’m just glad you taught us better than that.” 
Felicia smiled, and wrapped him in a hug, leaving a kiss on his head. “You know you can’t say that kind of thing around others, right?” She whispered into his ear. He nodded. She grimaced. She had taught them right. 
***********
The rest of the week went by just as fast. Felicia was demanded to be in the front of the crowd for the tribute interviews, and she did it gracefully. Despite her efforts, she couldn’t help but notice the tributes from District 12. They had bewitched all of the Capitol citizens, especially after the boy had come forward with his crush for Katniss. For the girl, she reminded herself. Everyone swooned over the star-crossed lovers, but Felicia could tell a performance when she saw one. And she had to recognise, it was a very smart one indeed, surely it was securing them with a good amount of patrons. 
With the interviews gone by, and the tributes already within the arena, Felicia could finally numb the rest of the Games out. They were the only thing everyone in the mansion and the Capitol could talk about of course, but she had always found it easy to disappear into her tasks. She answered correspondence, decorated the mansion, went for fashion fittings, attended charity events, visited her two oldest children, occasionally helping them with their work at the hospital. It felt nice reminiscing about her days as a surgeon, when she actually felt useful for something. 
She had Lan, her trusted bodyguard for over twenty years, update her on any news about the Games, in case she found it necessary to discuss such events with anyone of political importance, and day after day she was surprised she felt relieved to hear the District 12 tributes were still alive. 
One day, she heard Cesar Flickerman come into television, announcing that if two tributes of the same district were the last remaining survivors, the two would be declared winners. And for the first time in over thirty years, Felicia sat down and watched the Hunger Games.
******
so, this might be turning into a series after all! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it!
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posionhaze · 7 days
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dollhouse
❥ summary: having to work with an old flame doesn’t exactly go to plan
pairing: finnick odair x fem! victor reader
warnings: brief mentions of prostitution | dark themes | slight toxic-obsessive behavior | some fluff!!
genre: I don’t even know
❥ words: 2k
please read at the end of the fic for more information 🫶
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It hadn’t always been so tense between you and Finnick.
You were friends before his games- and before yours. You would have been the youngest victor, just a year younger than him- but of course he got to it first.
After he came back he was different, you expected that- but he had put up a front.
He had never told you what actually happened. What happened with Snow. You found out later- you witnessed it.
With that being said, you were reaped. Mags and Finnick himself mentored you.
Finnick never told you but he wished that you would’ve died in that arena. He knew your fate would be the same as his. Even at the age of 15 during your games, he knew.
He knew how sick Snow was.
You had made it out, purely based on hiding and stealth. You did it.
It took days, 28 to be exact.
They both thought you would’ve died off either by starvation or hypothermia.
You didn’t- you almost did.
You could recall the snow surrounding you, really almost choking you.
The arena was an iceland- cold and white, nothing to it.
You remember after your victory tour Snow wanted to meet with you.
You wished you had died in that arena.
Finnick remembers when you came back to the victors village- you hadn’t spoken to him or even looked at him.
That day you were never the same- like someone took your soul, and in a sense- Snow did. He did much more than that.
Three years passed, you and Finnick had brief interactions when needed.
He was the Capitols Darling and you the Capitols Doll.
Your eyes widened- why was Finnick here?
You were at a Capitol clients party as his side piece for the night- rather his doll. He was actually a regular, he wasn’t that bad considering the extent of the situation.
You didn’t understand why Finnick was there, he could only have been invited by your client…
“Oh! And I’m sure you know Y/n!” Your client says with a wide smile, arm wrapped around your waist.
You were wearing an extremely uncomfortable dress, not that it was bulky or unnecessary- no it was quite the opposite.
Thin and revealing, a baby pink mixed with seafoam green, clients request.
Finnick had a lady at his side, wearing an equally revealing and stupid outfit.
“Of course..she’s a doll..” Finnick replies with his charming grin- you knew it was simply an act. He reaches for your hand, pressing a kiss to it.
You saw the flash of realization in his eyes- you both had the same fate, the one he tried to hide you from.
You give him a sweet smile, letting out a giggle at his words, “You flatter me Finnick!”. Those words never felt more sour coming out of your mouth.
After that night you both grew close again.
You were often in his arms at night, both wanting a sense of normalcy, just for a few hours.
And for a bit it did feel normal, and at some point it felt real.
It was real, you both loved each other. You couldn’t pinpoint when it had happened but you guys ended up in something more than a friendship but never said it out loud.
Now of course you couldn’t tell anyone- not even Mags.
But somehow Snow found out, you weren’t sure how but he did.
Two years of peace disturbed.
Now you figured Snow had only talked to you- only threatened you.
He would’ve killed Finnick if you didn’t comply.
You begged him not to hurt Finnick. For Finnick you sacrificed what was left of you.
When you had gotten back to victor's village, you had ended it with Finnick. That day you broke his heart. Yours was already broken by Snow- much of you was.
You and Finnick stopped talking. Well you did, he didn’t stop.
He was insufferable, petty, pathetic but most of all someone you still loved.
That’s what you hated. That you couldn’t move on.
So it was a year of no contact for you, not playing into whatever game he was playing.
Not until the 73rd hunger games. Yourself 21, Finnick 22.
You both were chosen to mentor district 4. You didn’t know why- well you had a guess.
You and Finnick had two great tributes, a boy named Bay and a girl named Alana.
Bay was shy, a soft spoken teenager who just wanted to go home- while Alana knew what she was up against, she was more insightful- observant.
Alana and Bay knew each other, not very well but close enough to not hate each other.
“Y’know..you can’t spend all this time ignoring me, doll” Finnick says, looking at you from across the table.
It was the second day at the penthouse, you hadn’t spoken to Finnick since the reaping or during the train ride, you didn’t bother.
“Yes I can” You state simply, briefly glancing up at his beautiful sea green eyes. But you quickly avert your eyes, suddenly taking an interest in the glass of scotch you had been “nursing”.
“Really now?” He says with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, “And do you think that’s how an actual conversation works?” His voice is still playful, but he can’t help his curiosity.
Why were you ignoring his presence, why was it so easy for you to do after everything?
You wish you could tell him, let him in again, but you couldn’t. It would have pushed you over the edge, the one you were so close to falling off of.
It was painful having to keep up your capitol act, but you had to. Over and over again, night after night, party after party.
It was that- or have Finnick killed.
“Yeah- I do” You say with a tight lipped smile, focusing on the ice slowly melting in the liquor you barely touched.
“Y/n, you can at least attempt to hide the disdain, the fake smile, and the eyes that are screaming to run straight for the hills.”
Finnick can’t help but notice how you seem to act as if you never loved him, never cared. In that moment his face softens, a rare sight.
“Oh and, let’s not forget the drinks you hardly drink!” He teases a bit, leaning back in his seat. There was the Finnick you knew- the one who would pick and prod until nothing was left.
“You are such a pain” You say with a roll of your eyes, fighting back the urge to punch him in the face- really you would never do that, but it would feel nice to, at least in this moment.
“Yeah well it’s my speciality!” He smiles, leaning over the table as he takes the glass out of your hand- he finishes what is left in one gulp, putting the glass down before leaning back in the chair.
He’s still looking at you, clearly amused by how you act- you can’t help but wonder if it all is an act.
“Will you stop staring?” You grumble out, irritation clear on your face and tone.
“Only when you look at me.” He replies, leaning on his elbows, propping his chin up on fist.
He’s staring you down, he wants that reaction. It’ll tell him everything he needs to know.
And eventually you look at him, your eyes look dull and tired. Your mouth is a straight line.
You notice how his smile has disappeared- he studies you closely, like you did all those years ago- wondering what’s actually behind your eyes.
For the first time in a while you take in his features, his golden-bronze hair, and those sea green eyes.
Oh how you love those eyes.
You let out an awkward cough, breaking eye contact after a moment, “Bay and Alana seem good..I think Alana has a good chance of making it out..” You say, trying to distract Finnick.
“You think so?” Finnick says almost in a hum of approval, a smirk etched on his face.
Your distraction was futile, Finnick is stubborn- he’d get the truth out of you tonight.
He nods, “Bay, I can tell he’s a sweetie, a quiet one- but I think he’ll surprise us. Alanna though! Oh I’m putting my money on her- we’ll see her in that arena.” Finnick takes his eyes off of you for a moment, “You should help them with the training more, doll.”
“Stop Finnick- stop whatever it is you’re doing” You say, the tone of his voice- it disgusted you.
That look, his tone, why does he keep using it on you?
“Aw am I hurting your feelings? I’m so very sorry, doll.” There’s that damn smirk again, how did he not see the look on your face.
It was as if he was teasing you, enjoying the slight torture he was bringing on.
“I just want you to tell me those secrets you’ve been hiding..”
Your eyes flick up to meet his, “Drop it Finnick”
“No.” He replies, his voice sharp and stern- he wasn’t going to let you brush him off.
He reaches for your hand, your skin so soft under his fingers, your hand so perfect under his.
He brings it up to his mouth, and kisses one of your knuckles, “Just talk to me…please…”
But you could still feel his smirk.
You’re quick to pull your hand from his grasp, a sick feeling forming in your stomach.
“I’m going to sleep” You mutter out, leaving your seat and the table, going to your room in the penthouse.
“Damn it..” He mumbles, leaning back into his chair.
He couldn’t leave it alone, he just couldn’t.
He wouldn’t let himself rest either, getting up and walking towards your room- he knew you wouldn’t appreciate it.
He stands outside your door for a minute, trying to gather his thoughts.
Before eventually opening the door and inviting himself in.
“Go away Finnick..” You mutter out, not even having to turn and look to see who it is.
“No.” He says in a stern voice, but there’s hesitation in it.
“I’m not leaving until we talk.” His voice softens as he takes a step forward, “Doll, don’t do this…”
“Finnick..” You say, pausing momentarily. Maybe it was time to let him in again?
“I can’t- I can’t do this right now..” You finish.
“Do what, Y/n?” He steps forward again, closing the distance between you and him- his hands rest on the sides of your hips, chest against your back.
You can feel his breath against your neck, your muscles tense up but he just waits for your reply.
“Just talk to me, please. Let me in, doll.”
“Snow had found out about us..” You say blankly, “He talked to me, threatened your life..he didn’t want us together..because we were so- so useful to him..”
“I didn’t want to hurt you, I thought it would be better to just end it” You add on.
Your words didn’t come to a surprise, he knew Snow would find out eventually.
He’s silent for a moment, before his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close against him- he doesn’t care how tired you are.
You could feel the anger and rage building inside of him, towards Snow.
Finnick moves you in his arms, kissing your forehead before looking right in your eyes, “I still don’t understand why you never just talked to me about it…”
“I was scared he’d do something to you Finn..” You mutter out softly.
“I’m not that fragile, doll.” His lips brush against your temple, he can tell that you’re tired.
“I would’ve been fine, you know that right…”
You honestly didn’t know what to say, what could you?
“I’m sorry Finnick- I’m tired..I- I need sleep..” You say, pulling away from him. You wouldn’t let yourself go back, why wouldn’t you?
“This isn’t a good time....” You add on, averting your eyes again from him.
His grip tightens on your hips slightly- he can tell you’re pulling away from him yet again- and it’s driving him mad.
You’re refusing to let him in completely, refusing to let him love you.
“And I’m telling you- we’ll talk about this now.” He’s persistent, unwilling to be denied.
“Finnick..we’ll talk after the games, after this is done” You say, voice soft yet stern.
Your eyes meet his, both of you don’t say anything for a moment.
“Fine”
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❥ notes: hi!! so this is my first fic on this blog- I want to say I’ve written fan fiction before, so I’m not new- but I’m not the greatest either! I’m new to the hg fandom, so bear with me if my work isn’t accurate or the best! I will be making a masterlist of who I will write for soon!!
❥ uploads certainly won’t be frequent or consistent- I’m sorry to say. I do have an old blog, which I won’t be mentioning. that blog negatively impacted my mental health so I wanted a fresh start with a new fandom and blog :))
❥ once again- I am new so sorry if this isn’t accurate or not the best!! I’d love for any comments or suggestions! I was scared to post this, mostly because of backlash but I hope this was good!! ☺️
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
second part
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slowburningechoes · 6 months
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bee's peeta recommendations ⤵
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key: * represents nsfw material always adding to this list! (:
↳ peeta mellark
: ̗̀➛ your loser boyfriend* | @zombatss
: ̗̀➛ sex pollen* | @gogogodzilla
: ̗̀➛ capitol lights* | @lovekendri
I also write fics (whenever grad school schedules permit). Request here!!!
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freak-accident419 · 5 months
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People misusing afab has me shitting bricks.
if ur reader is a cis woman then just say fem!reader please instead of plain afab!reader 😭 in fics, afab was coined by trans people to like idk include us w/out having everything be woman-coded yknow (lmao)! its used to signify that their gender doesnt align with the sex they were assigned at birth! thats what it stands for!! assigned female at birth!! for example, the tag afab!gn! is basically a gender neutral reader but with afab genitalia, same with amab. bc if the reader is a transman or genderqueer, they can include them in smuts without it having to always be a female reader. like it would seem too redundant to put afab!fem! bc that basically just means cis woman and i cant tell if youre trying to be progressive or transphobic 😭
idk when some writers decided to label cis women as afab for smut, but it just feels so wrong 😭 just use female 😭 idk im just tired of being baited 😭 like i see afab!reader and i think oh nice its for my nonbinary ass BUT I GET HIT W “good girl” AND “panties” AND DIE INSIDE…
Please label ur fics and label them properly 🙏🙏
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zqmbiescorpse · 1 year
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GLADIATOR, PART 3
johanna mason x female reader
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a/n: i feel like they part is really wordy lololololol, also everytime i try to proof read i get very bored, so i will do it eventually (probably)
summary: after winning the 72nd hunger games, quite a name had been made for you in the capitol - quickly becoming a favourite across panem. because of this, naturally, you find yourself thrown back into the horror of the games due to the 3rd quarter quell, representing district 5 one last time. though, not all is lost, fellow tribute and close friend, johanna mason of district 7, finds herself in the same position.
tags: graphic depictions of violence (sometimes), johanna mason, katniss everdeen, peeta mellark, finnick odair, johanna mason x female reader, catching fire, mockingjay part 1, mockingjay part 2, 72nd hunger games, 75th hunger games, gore, eye gore, detailed descriptions of eyeball squishing, disabled reader, female reader, reader is missing an eye, reader is missing limbs, missing fingers, traumatic events, blood, choking, johanna mason needs a hug, rebellion, slow burn, mutual pining, scared of feelings, fluff, angst, making out, kissing, confessions, peeta has his prosthetic leg, maybe smut idk, tension, awkwardness, wlw, i love johanna so much
warnings for this part: making out, kissing, some angst
word count: 3.5k
(part 4) (masterlist)
The tribute parade was definitely something. Experiencing it for the first time, three years ago, it hadn't seemed so bad at the time - possibly due to the overwhelming anxiety and fear that kept you from processing any other emotion. However, going through it again made you realise how ridiculous the whole thing was. You hated everything about it. Sure that it was a humiliation tactic provided by the Capitol for entertainment, you had observed each of the various tribute outfits and were unable to detect anything that looked decent. Aside from the dazzling black material, which caught aflame, worn by Katniss and Peeta, everybody looked as stupid as they felt. How were your stylists allowed to do that to you?
In all honesty, it was a major struggle to keep a straight face, at that point you were just completely over it and couldn't take it seriously, eventually accepting the fact that you were dressed disgustingly. During the parade you found yourself distracted, fortunately, concerned with one thing. Johanna. Especially after the previous night, she remained prominent in your mind throughout the entire day and you were quite desperate to see her again.
You'd caught a few glimpses of her, each time you did you fought with yourself to stifle a laugh, although, to her credit, she managed to pull off the outfit in an odd way. Maybe it was because you found her extremely attractive, but even dressed as a tree, Johanna looked exceptional.
You were waiting in the lobby of the apartments with your stylist, mentor, and the male victor of your district, Gus. He was about 20 years older than you, the greys scattered in his hair growing more obvious with each day. The two of you weren't close and you hadn't discussed alliances with one another, assuming that in the arena you would be going your separate ways, which you were fine with, you didn't mind Gus at all, he was a nice guy.
"Ah! You both did so well today! Y/N, Gus, you looked amazing!" Your stylist, whose name you hadn't bothered to retain, announced delightedly, clearly very pleased with her work. She clasped her hands together and smiled widely before suggesting all of you return to the District 5 apartments for a meal, to celebrate.
Politely, you declined. You feigned exhaustion, excusing yourself and going on ahead with the intention of hiding away by yourself for a few hours. You said you were tired because of the hard work you'd done today, playing it up massively, yet, your mentor bought it and let you go.
You approached an elevator at the far end of the corridor, failing to see the victors from District 12 and their mentor enter it. About to step in, you finally noticed that you wouldn't be alone, becoming hesitant at the presence of Katniss and Peeta. Haymitch caught your eye with a look of reassurance, he was encouraging you to join them.
"Y/N Armstrong, District 5." While the idea of leaving them be and getting on the next elevator sounded a lot more appealing to you, Haymitch didn't give you the opportunity to decide for yourself, loudly declaring your arrival before you had the chance to back away.
"There's my favourite warrior," he joked as you nervously made your way, standing by his side to create some distance between yourself and the other victors.
"Hello, Haymitch," you spoke with an easily detectable awkwardness, causing your cheeks to heat up slightly at how strange you thought you'd sounded.
Similarly to most winners of the Hunger Games, you'd been given a nickname relevant to your triumph, branded by the Capitol for all of eternity. To them, you were known as the warrior, or, more commonly, the gladiator. Someone who was a ferocious fighter and absolutely brutal during a battle of life and death. Unfortunately, it was an accurate description considering the circumstances of your victory, but you found it funny how gladiators were usually slaves, trained and forced to fight, and weren't predicted to live long lives. The latter half you found you related to more.
Normally, hearing people call you that made you uneasy, cringing each time you were addressed as such, yet, when Haymitch called you that you knew it was him poking fun at the Capitol - mocking them, not you so you didn't mind it at all. Besides, you were close enough that you found some humour in his methods too.
Not much more was said, the atmosphere was uncomfortable and it didn't help that you could feel both Katniss' and Peeta's eyes constantly on you, both of them staring at your injuries.
"I'm not a fan of prosthetics," you blurted, brushing off any insecurity you had, faking confidence while you smiled at them. You sensed the comment had broken some of the suspense, since the elephant in the room had been acknowledged. Sometimes you walked around without even an eyepatch covering your socket, shortly after the tribute parade you removed the one given to you, discarding it. Consequently, you were feeling quite exposed standing there with people, who were pretty much strangers, the old wound on display for them to see.
"If I didn't need it to walk, I wouldn't either," Peeta spoke up, a welcoming warmth to his voice. You appreciated his response, the both of you were able to relate to each other, him wearing a prosthetic leg due to an infection that made him need to amputate. At least you could say that you and Peeta were somewhat friendly. You knew that Haymitch was probably pleased, happy that you were taking the plan of rebellion seriously by attempting to connect with the District 12 tributes.
"Why don't you wear them? If anything, you're just putting yourself at a huge disadvantage." That was the first time Katniss had ever said a word to you, her tone harsh, communicating suspicion and uncertainty perfectly. For some reason, you were getting the feeling that she wasn't very fond of you. Then again, untrusting and closed off was a large part of who Katniss was, understandably, so you didn't take it to heart.
"I like how it makes them uncomfortable." You were totally honest, having your injuries on show often satisfied you in a weird way, refusing to let the Capitol disguise what they did to you.
You could tell Katniss was a fan of your response, something in her face changing, it relaxed a little as suspicion morphed into respect. Imprinting a positive impression, the air felt a lot clearer than before and you felt you could breathe better, any anxieties about the situation disappearing.
Little conversation continued but you still felt that you'd managed to make a good amount of progress today regarding alliances. Then, the elevator doors slid open, allowing Johanna to saunter through them, that frustratedly amused expression, which she commonly wore, present. She briefly acknowledged you, enough to make the blood start rushing. You could tell that she was up to something, intrigued and glad to see her, you watched on intently.
"My stylist is such an idiot. District 7, lumber…trees. Ugh, I'd love to put my axe in her face." She rambled on, anger seeping through her words while she let her crimson hair flow free and removed any extravagant jewellery inconveniencing her.
The image of Johanna axing someone in the face. No matter how hard you tried to not be attracted to the idea of her doing that, you couldn't stop thinking about it. You too hated your stylist for what she made you wear, consequently seeing no issue with what the fired-up redhead was saying. God, just the thought of it made you feel…something.
Seemingly lost, drifting away in the daydream, you'd missed the part where Johanna got undressed and was now completely naked in front of the four of you, flashing everyone standing in the elevator. You'd heard that earlier on in the day, Finnick had approached Katniss in the same playful manner, more subtly since he didn't strip off. It was a way of lightly intimidating her, observing how she would react in an uncomfortable situation; having some fun at her expense yet seeing whether the person they were risking their lives to protect was worth it.
Haymitch and Peeta were clearly enjoying themselves, shamelessly taking in everything Johanna had to offer. On the other hand, you struggled to not stare at her stunning body, her bare chest perfectly in line with your sight if you were to look ahead like a normal person. Your eyes fixated on every spot around your area that wasn't the person in front of you, you were a flustered mess, blushing all over, now feeling rather warm.
Although what she was doing was not aimed towards you, Johanna took notice of every reaction you were having, relishing in how nervous she made you feel, every smidge of red splattered on your cheeks was because of her, and she was proud.
You could almost smell the disgust radiating from Katniss, unimpressed by Johanna's stunt, she tried seeking support from you as together you'd discovered a newfound respect for one another. She expected you to be equally repulsed, only to find that you were trying so desperately to not pass out because of Johanna. Katniss bit her tongue, rolled her eyes and came to the conclusion that you were into Johanna, though, at least you were being more respectful about it. Haymitch and Peeta gawked while you had the decency to look away, even if it was because you felt awfully tense and awkward due to the attraction and feelings you had for her.
With the rise of a perfect brow, the fierce woman gave one last glance at everyone, winking at Haymitch, the pair exchanging knowing looks. Sensing her departure, you quietly let out a sigh of relief, having been holding your breath, allowing your heart rate to regulate. Regaining confidence, your vision altered itself from a top corner of the elevator to what you expected to be an empty space ahead of you. To your surprise, Johanna remained unmoving, her dangerously mischievous eyes already on yours.
You had no chance to inquire, her hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, her grip firm, practically dragging you away with her - a delighted cheek plastered to her face.
"Thanks! Let's do it again sometime!" marvelled the domineering woman, her voice getting lost to Peeta and Katniss while she made her way into the hallway, a very confused, uneasy you trailing behind, sort of against your will?
"I was supposed to get off ages ago, this isn't my floor," the sudden realisation hitting you, displaying stupidity since this was unmistakably not your floor.
"No, it's my floor, and you got off at the right time, with me. We're going to my apartment," Johanna informed you, leaving no room for protest.
At that moment, she spun around to face you after leading on in front, finally releasing the hold she had on your reddening wrist. However, she made sure to run her thumb gently over the mark, sparking jolts of an electric sensation down your left arm, then she dropped your hand.
"Why?" Your voice was laced with bewilderment. There was an additional something you were meaning to vocalise, but any recollection of what it was disappeared once you were faced with the naked woman again.
"Johanna, I can't believe you're wandering around without any clothes, shouldn't you, yknow, put something on?" Fumbling your words here and there, a cloud of scarlet dust crept its way back up your neck.
"Well why do you think we're heading back to my room?" She mocked, inching closer to you, whispering, “What is it, baby? Do you not like my body?”
You froze, slightly wide-eyed, a feeling of dread at the lack of ability to think of something to say. Johanna just laughed.
“Okay…whatever, let’s hurry up then. I mean, what if someone sees you?” You finally responded, purposefully ignoring some parts of what she’d said, apparently more embarrassed than she was.
“You’ve already seen my plenty,” She smirked, her pointer finger jabbing into your shoulder, “So has Katniss, so has Haymitch, so has Peeta. It doesn’t bother me, I’ve been seen in worse states anyway, crying, shaking, covered in the blood of others, right? And the whole of Panem saw that.” The seductive expression never left her face while she was talking, a huge contrast to the words coming out of her mouth, the sinister undertones lacing them.
Johanna witnessed a change in you. She was enjoying the teasing and seeing you tense up every time she took a step closer to you, until getting any closer wouldn't leave room to breathe. Although it was doubtful that she would ever confess it, she disliked seeing you sad, and you were looking pretty dejected after she reminded you of the world you were living in, having been immersed in whatever was occurring between you both.
Eventually, you had gotten back to her apartment and Johanna wasted no time getting dressed into a more casual attire, disappearing into her closet. Her room appeared identical to yours: same rectangular shape, same double bed with the same luxuriously styled sheets, same window, and even the same bedside table.
"Is everything alright, Johanna?" You asked, growing ever more curious as to why she brought you all the way here.
"Mhm, yeah, why'd you ask?" She called back, still out of sight.
"Because…is there a reason why you wanted me here?" You could only imagine how timid you sounded, glad that she couldn't see you fidgeting about.
"Was you expecting something? I bet you thought you were gonna get lucky," Johanna almost howled, reappearing suddenly.
"What? No… we're friends… I don't know, maybe I thought you needed something…" Your voice trailed off, each word getting harder and harder to hear, almost a fearful whisper as you awkwardly laughed your way through your speech.
The unique effect Johanna caused whenever she was around you was extraordinary - a tense thrill that you could never want to dispose of. It was humiliating how you seemed to melt into a goopy, uncoordinated puddle on the floor each time she gave you the time of day. Considering the less-than-ideal world you lived in, not many things brought joy to your life, hence your strong attachment to the short-tempered tribute from District 7, thus, it would be a total lie to pretend that you weren't expecting anything to happen.
Seeing her on the opposite side of the space, you were caught in her cheery gaze, provoking a smile to form on your lips. This seemed to satisfy her ever-growing playful mood.
"Well maybe I do need something, baby…" Johanna suggested, a nonchalant grin gracing her alluring features.
It was aggravatingly slow. She wasn't even that far from you. Yet, Johanna took her sweet, sweet time moseying over, each step she took closing the gap keeping you apart.
"Whatever it is, I can try my best to help. I'm always here for you and stuff…" You claimed, the nerves rapidly ramping up. Fully aware that advice and a conversation weren't what the enticing woman before you desired.
An approving hum tickled your ears, Johanna was now so near to you that you could feel her warm breath on your lips, mere centimetres apart from hers. You were desperate to close the gap but couldn't bring yourself to do it, something was stopping you from finally putting an end to all the agonising tension. Maybe it was the fact that you couldn't possibly fathom the idea of someone as beautiful as Johanna expressing a romantic interest in you. Maybe her bringing you back to her room, backing you into a corner, was just another teasing gesture that in a few moments would be over and everything would die down the moment things started to feel serious between you and her.
"What is it, pretty girl? What are you thinking?" Johanna almost whispered against your lips, a whole new wave of red coating your cheeks.
Lacking a response, the beautiful woman took it upon herself to cup your face in her soft hand, feeling the heat radiating off your skin, while she gently tilted your chin, forcing you to meet her gaze. You observed an odd mix of emotions, her eyes suggesting seduction, lust, desperation, longing, yet, there was also uncertainty and fear.
"Johanna…please…"
As much as she was giving in to your pleas, Johanna was giving into herself, she'd been craving your affections and couldn't hold herself back any longer, though there was an isolated nervousness to her that was hidden excellently, you didn't notice a thing, too excited and wide-eyed her lips meeting yours.
It was barely a brush, a soft press, sudden feelings of hesitancy present again and the kiss did not last long. You felt quite satisfied, having managed to feel her lips against yours, even though it was short - yearning for more. Sparks ignited your entire bodies because of the tender moment, spurring Johanna on.
Her mouth soon connected back to yours, crashing into it hungrily, her tongue swiping across your lips, which you parted, accidentally whimpering into her mouth. This kiss continued to deepen, becoming bruising, you couldn't help but feel like she was being a little rough, not that you minded, triggering a similar amount of passion from you.
The past three years have brought a strange relationship into your life through the likes of Johanna, it had been very gradual, for starters, not seeing her as much as you had wanted caused your friendship to build at an excruciatingly slow pace, the romantic feelings that came later were danced around for far too long - tensions constantly high, the desire for one another ever-growing
Her hands roamed your body, fingers trailing around your hips, she grasped at your clothes and guided you backward pushing you flush up against the wall in her apartment. Clearly the more dominant out of the two of you, Johanna seemed to be in control, leading the kisses and the occasional touches over each other's aroused bodies.
Breaths were few and far between, more concerned with keeping the movement of your lips entwined; like your mouths were glued together, impossible to part, the simplicity of inhaling and exhaling became their least significant thing. But you did part, eventually, not wanting to lose the closeness, your hands remained tangled in her dark hair and Johanna left a series of pecks around your lips, regaining air every other second.
The erratic atmosphere came to a halt, presenting an opportunity to calm down. Faint pants could be heard, but that was all. A grin stretched across your face, wide and hopeful, never breaking eye contact with a content Johanna. She wasn't smug, amused, or teasing, appearing genuinely pleased. It was a moment you could bask in for hours, a golden glow basking you both, in her arms, playing with her luscious locks, reshaping the spikes that added so much to her personality without fail.
And then, she pulled away.
Immediately, you could sense something was wrong. The previously loved-filled eyes looking down at you in a memorised trance turned sinister, the happiness washing away and being swiftly replaced by…regret?
You could feel a shake against your waist, her smooth palms let go and she retreated back into herself. A distance had been put between you, physically and emotionally.
"Johanna, what is it? Did I do something wrong? Are you okay?" Whereas the words would usually come tumbling out of your mouth due to nervousness caused by a silly, awkward crush, here, you were stumbling and stammering because you could see the cogs turning in Johanna's mind - caught up in her own dreadful thoughts, a painful expression flashing her features.
She didn't respond. Growing worried by the second, you tried to move nearer, consequently, Johanna became infuriated, the intense anger she would aim towards everyone in the Capitol, a side of her you hadn't witnessed directly.
"You need to leave, go, I don't want you here!" She yelled, repeating it until her throat went sore and her eyes started to water from frustration.
Initially, you stood there, perfectly still. To understand would take a while. It was obvious how scared she was and that frightened you, you struggled to comprehend the abrupt change occurring so drastically, your world crashing down around you. The sweet bliss and sheer joy you had felt were rare, the last time you had felt so happy was hard to recall, however, your naive heart was being crushed by the one who had made it beat so freely.
Your stomach turned, nausea corrupting your senses, the shouts for you to leave never ending, and getting through to Johanna was impossible. Tears flowing, streaming down your cheeks, you made haste, slamming the door as you left - consumed by sorrow and bewilderment.
That night, you didn't get much sleep.
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ofhouseusher · 1 year
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Against The Odds ↣ The Hunger Games fanfiction
She'd lost everybody she'd ever cared about. Katniss was the only family she had left. If Katniss died, she would follow. Two broken souls scarred with the wounds from their demons, playing a dangerous game of trust and love.
There is just one catch. If she embarks on this treacherous journey would she be able to handle the unlocked truths that could shatter the fragile balance of her world.
PROLOGUE
Chapter 1
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Hunger Games Phoenix (OC story)
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Chapter 1: The Everdeen Children   (Before we start, this was written years ago. It was one of those projects that due to busy life i never finished so i though why not add it here and see what happens. Forgive me if not the best as i said it was written years ago)
It was quiet in the forest, it always is at dawn. In this forest a boy was sitting on a branch, enjoying the sunrise and the view smiling to himself, slowly humming to himself. This is Jack Everdeen the brother of the 73th hunger games winner Katniss Everdeen, unlike prim not everyone knew about him, everyone knows about prim since Katniss volunteered herself and in interviews Katniss never mentioned the boy. It also doesn't help that he doesn't talk to anyone other then a select few. He continued to hum the tune of the song he read about in one of the books he found in the forest years ago until he started to sing the words
Jack: "When god is gone and devil takes takes hold, who will have mercy on my soul" The song is called "O Death" from the lyrics Jack could relate as it's about the person asking death to spare them to live longer, in this case Jack is the person asking to be spared whilst the reaping is death "O death, O death, consider my age please don't take me at this stage" its a dark song to a lot of people but it somehow calmed him "O death, O death, won't you spare me over another year" He finished softly
Peaceful he thought, the birds, the view and the warm breeze
Then a mockingjay started to sing the mocking jay song
Jack frowned and turned his head to the mockingjay with a really look "Really? Do you have to sing that specific song" The boy said irritated at the song that became a constant reminder of Katniss and people call me a dick" The bird tilted its head "Yeah i called you a dick and what are you gonna do about it?"...... It started to sing again which made jack's mouth agape "You little shi-"
"JACK!!" Jack was cut off by the voice of a girl he knows to well, he looked down to see primrose who had a amused look on her face
The boy gasped "OH MY SAVIOUR. PLEASE HELP ME DESTROY THIS FOUL BEAST" Jack shouted in a mock capital voice as he pointed to the mockingjay which made primrose roll her eyes
"How many times do i need to tell you to stop arguing with birds" Primrose put her hands on her hips amused at the scene. Jack grabbed his bag and Knife and climbed down the tree
"When one" Jack grunts getting ready to jumped down "pecks" The young Everdeen lands in front of his younger sister "one of Katniss's eyes out" He said smiling innocently
*Smack*
"Ow why ya slap me!!* Jack whined as rubbed the back of his head
" You deserved it. Plus its funny" Rolled his eyes "Come on Katniss is hunting and i know it won't go well if you two bump into each other an-" Prim and Jack started to walk but someone was in front of them 10 feet away..... "Oh hey Katniss?"
Katniss had her bow and kept glancing at Jack awkwardly
"I wonder if that mockingjay is hungry for eyeballs right now" he whispered to prim and in response she elbowed her brother in the stomach who tried to play the pain off
Katniss: "H-how have you been?"
Jack:"Uh fine i guess" This is awkward
Katniss: "Oh ok, i-i um missed you" Jack blinked
Jack: "Oh uh me too" Katniss slightly smiled "OH HI PEETA" Katniss turned to see no one, peeta wasnt there, she turned back to see prim on her own and a jack running off into the distance
I wish we could be closer brother, i love you Katniss thought.
Jack woke up differently not because of the awkward meeting with katniss yesterday but because its the day of tge reaping.
He woke up ate the bread Peeta gave him and got dressed in his well normal clothes which was a old hooded jacket and ripped jeans with boots but all in light blue, he glanced out the windows and saw peacemakers or shitmakers jack likes to call them.
They were preparing for the announcements, so he hurried to get in the crowd and when he got there and stood between two kids at least are both 13. Jack couldnt help but be so sick that kids get dragged into this they don't deserve it......no one does he thought to himself. He saw the kid to his right sniff,  jack placed his hand on his shoulder
"It will be ok" the boy who was scared started to tear up. Jack started to feel bad and had a sick feeling in his stomach. He bent down and whispered to the boy. "I promise if you get picked I'll volunteer" he smiled to which the boy looked shocked and jack then stood up and look at the podium
Jack: "Please for the love of god be someone who is over 16 and not me" he whispered. He put his name in 19 times but he doubts he would be reaped but the odds aren't always in your favour
Walked up to the peacekeeper who was going to jab his finger
*jabbed*
"Ow"
Wow Effie has less makeup on her then the last time, she looks human, jack thought whilst the video package finished. Surprisingly peeta, haymitch and Katniss were not on the stage properly waiting on the train an get out of here
Effie: "Now as always ladies fir-. Actually let's do boys first *chuckle*" jack rolled his eyes so modest he thought sarcastically
She put her hand into the bowl and mixed it and pick a name. Jack felt everyone's nerves build up and held it up and went to read but she frowned then it turned to a shocked expression.
"Oh my.............Jack Everdeen" Jack looked at Effie wide eyed, he couldn't believe it. He is going to "Where are you darling" crap he thought as quickly walked out of the line and walked up the stairs making eye contact with Effie who had a look of sorrow and what looked like a little bit of heartbreak.
Jack looked out to the crowd, he saw gale in the crowd who looked to be thinking. He was going to volunteer, he locked eyes and mouthed the words "Katniss needs you" please listen for once asshole. Gale looked conflict after a couple of seconds but nodded and looked down
Effie: "Now t-the girls* She repeated the action " Tina summers"
There was mumbles but nothing prepared jack for what he saw, a small, brown short haired , skinny girl stepped out and walked to the stairs. Jack tilted his head at the youngster with horror building inside him
No, not a kid. He thought. He staying to pray and hope that someone volunteered for her. But no one came. A million scenarios ran through his head. What if she dies, who will keep her safe if he is dead...what if they are the last two
"District 12's tributes, Happy hunger games" Effie said trying to remain professional "Yeah happy indeed" Jack mumbled
Jack waited in a room for his mother and sister prim and speak of the devil he turned around with pairs of arms hugging him
"Why! We could of given you food damn it peeta gave you food jack!"
After looking at his family he couldn't blame them
"Someone had to help the families here, I'm sorry but do you know how many kids are there dying whilst we are being fed!. I couldn't stand by"
His mother gave a sad smile but started crying again as she hugged her only son
Prim: " please win, I can't lose you. Katniss can't, she does love you" Jack looked at his sister with sad eyes Maybe she was right, did Katniss love him. There past isn't the prettiest
A Peacekeeper marched in "Times up"
Mother: "Goodbye Jack, i love you" both were pulled out shouting his name
Jack waited and looked out the window and looked over the city of District 12. Was this the last time he would see it.
The door opened, Jack looked behind to see... Gale?
Jack: "What in the hell you doing here?" He said in a weird high pitched manner. Gale sighed
Gale: "I know why you put your name in but why not go to katniss she would of helped" Jack raised his eyebrow
Jack: "You think she would let me put myself in any danger, despite our feelings toward each other she wouldn't let me" gale nodded "And don't go blaming yourself for not volunteering, Kat needs you as much as it annoys me and your nearly over the age limit to be free from all this" Gale sighed before looking at Jack with some admiration
Gale: "I know we aren't fond of each other but I'm glad you think that, I'll see you soon, goodbye jack...and win" He turned to leave, jack smirked
Jack: "Just keep it in your pants asshole" Jack said in a arrogant voice, Knowing Gale's feeling towards Katniss
Gale stopped and sighed shaking his head but then left. Jack smirked, he loved pissing him off
Jack, Tina and Effie were riding to the train that will take them to the capital
"I can't believe you put you name in! You stupid boy Katniss is going to kill you before you enter the arena" that would help, Jack couldn't believe he was chosen but someone had to help those kids. Jack glanced at Tina and sat opposite her "Are you listening, young man" Jack sighed and gave her a look "Fine. Katniss will deal with you hope pain free" Jack looked at Tina
"Hi there my name is Jack" he extended his hand, Tina looked at it and then back at him. She then jumped into his arms and buried her face into his shoulder and started to cry "Hey, hey it's ok. Your gonna be fine Tina" Jack looked at Effie, who teared up. Jack for the first time in a long time doesn't know what to do. All he knew was he HAD to protect this girl
Jack stood there in the train holding a sleeping Tina, rocking her back and forth. Effie went to look for Katniss, peeta and Haymitch. She said she wouldn't tell he is a tribute because she simply can't tell them because she scared of their reactions. Jack on the other hand was scared for Tina and also scared shitless of what Katniss will do. He looked done at Tina those scenarios still playing in his head, he feels so powerless.
*Door opening*
Jacks eyes widen and gulped as he heard the doors behind him open
"Aww the tributes are bonding" very funny Haymitch
Katniss pinched Haymitch "That's not funny Haymitch" She then lowered her voice "One of them is just a kid" she couldn't help but remember Rue
"We are your mentors?...would you like to tell us your names and turn around??" He heard Peeta say. Here we go the boy thought
Jack (Fake high pitch voice): "The girl's name is tina" He heard haymitch snort
Haymitch: "Whats with the fake voice, nervous kid?" Jack sighed and slowey turned around to see his mentors
Haymitch was mid drinking and started to choke on his drink and looked backed at Effie with shock
Peeta eyes went wide with shock and tried to speak but couldn't find them he then looked at katniss
Katniss stared at him with wide eyes, she started to shake
"No n-no no no no" Katniss started to tear up and covered her mouth
Well this is different, He thought Katniss who be furious at him. Katniss then frowned and stared daggers at her younger brother and started to walk towards him like she was going to kill him
To be continued
So yeah that's the first chapter. Honestly have no idea where i was going with this. But i still have the same end goal of the story But what did yall think? Why do Jack and Katniss have a odd relationship. How is Jack going to protect Tina and will Katniss kill Jack before he enters the arena
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schmidtsbimbo · 3 months
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―୨୧⋆ ˚ welcome !
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hi! my name is rosie, i go by she/her prns and i like to write ! i mostly write for josh hutcherson characters but im willing to branch out if you ask and i’m familiar with the character<3 i love getting dms from new friends and moots so dont be afraid to interact !!! pls be aware that i do write some nsfw from time to time.
requests/blog guidelines !⁀➷  
things i will NOT write: ddlg/sexual age regression, scat, water sports, somnophilia, cnc, pet play
things i will write about: basically anything else that’s not mentioned above, feel free to send anything else that’s not listed, worst case scenario is that i simply wont respond ^_^
requests are open !!
masterlist
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deadgirlzneedlovetoo · 6 months
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𝐉𝐨𝐬𝐡 𝐇𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬
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He LOVES having control, however sometimes he'll let you take control so you can take care of him.
He might whimper, but mostly groans.
He'd fuck you anywhere in your house, or in his car and at work but thats about it.
He isnt a selfish lover, he wants you cum at least twice. 
He'd place your pleasure first no doubt.
Daddy kink, breeding kink, maybe just maybe hes into hair pulling, blood kink hes into marking, loves hearing you scream, loves your tears, hes into bondage.
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milkywaygalaxygurl · 5 months
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Sleepy - Peeta Mellark
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another self indulgent fic lol, i had a dream like this and wanted to write about it. sorry it’s so short, i honestly struggled a little with writing it:’)
Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Female!Reader
Warnings: none this is just pure fluff
Word count: 400
Peeta loves that you nap so much and that your reaction is always the same whenever you wake up and see him<3
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The first time it happened, Peeta had come back inside from gardening and found the house silent. He knew you were probably asleep because you had complained about not getting enough sleep the night before and not feeling well, so he tried to be as quiet as possible as he took his shoes off at the door. He figured you would be in the bedroom, but as he walked into the living room he caught sight of you curled up on the couch. He smiles to himself, taking a second to admire your peaceful expression.
As if sensing his presence, you open your eyes slowly. The second you see Peeta, a sleepy grin spreads across your face as you stick your arms out from under the blanket. He chuckles when you make grabby hands at him, much like a child who wants picked up would do. He doesn’t hesitate to come lay down with you, wrapping you up in his arms.
“You’re so warm.” You mumble into his shoulder, nuzzling your face into his shirt and tightening your hold on him. He hums in acknowledgement, but doesn’t say anything in return. He just looks down at you instead, studying your side profile like it’s the most beautiful work of art he’s ever seen.
It became a normal occurrence after that. Every single time you woke up and he wasn’t already next to you, you’d make grabby hands at him and he’d come lay with you. Peeta swore he could feel himself fall even more in love with you every time it happened.
He had once asked you why you did it and you shrugged, a small smile on your face. “You’re always my first thought when I wake up and I just wanna hold you.” You had said it so nonchalantly, not even aware how much of an effect those words had on Peeta’s heart. It made his heart feel warm, the fact that he was the first thing you reached for if he wasn’t already close to you.
Peeta always wondered how he had gotten so lucky, it regularly bewildered him that he had managed to get you to be his girlfriend. He often couldn’t believe that you loved him just as much as he did you. Moments like that, where you just so casually said something that meant everything to Peeta, were his reminders that you truly do love him.
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slowburningechoes · 6 months
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bee's rec navigation⤵
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↳ spencer reid
↳ peeta mellark
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