cabotwife - Tumblr blog

cabotwife · 1 month

Note

TOO WELL WAS SOOO GOOD!! maybe a part two…? 🤭

Mess It Up

(pt2 of Too Well)

Johanna Mason x Fem!Odair!Reader

warnings: poorly written, ooc Johanna(?), not proofread, talk of broken bones, ooc Katniss

word count: 1143

a/n: literally had no idea what to do w this, but the people get what the people want💀🙏🏻

"wait, y/n!" Johanna's voice rings out, she's running towards you, desperation evident in her tone. you don’t respond, opting instead to quicken your pace as the sound of her rapidly approaching footsteps echo behind you.

"y/n, please." Johanna pleads, her voice closer now as she reaches out, her hand closing firmly around your arm and halting your escape.

"what do you want, Johanna?" you don't hold back the irritation in your voice, your words coming out more as a growl than anything else. you look up at her, your glare unyielding.

Johanna stares back at you with a look of utter confusion. she releases her grip on your arm, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. "i don't understand why you're mad at me," she admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

you let out an exasperated huff, your eyes narrowing at her. Johanna simply glares back, matching your intensity. the tension is palpable as you both stand there, one consumed by anger and the other riddled with confusion. neither one of you breaks the silence.

"we have bigger things to worry about, y/n," Johanna says, her voice firm. "you can't afford to be mad at me right now."

your heart pounds in your chest as you stare at her. "you do not get to dictate how i feel, Johanna Mason," you reply, your voice low but intense. without another word, you turn on your heel and walk away, leaving Johanna standing there, watching you leave with a frustrated groan.

⚘

as time passes and the plan to keep Katniss and, by extension, Peeta safe starts to unfold, you find yourself assigned to look after Peeta. Johanna, on the other hand, has been spending an unusual amount of time with Katniss — a fact that doesn't sit well with you. you try to push down the jealousy that bubbles up from the pit of your stomach, reminding yourself that this isn't about you. it's about the rebellion and securing everyone's freedom.

still, it stings. Johanna now seems more interested in the newcomer from the outer districts. the thought of it churns your stomach, but you swallow it down and focus on the task at hand.

rather than trying to mend the rift between you, Johanna has been acting as if nothing happened. as if you weren't intentionally avoiding her, ignoring her. instead, all her attention and energy seem to be focused on the plan. on Katniss.

when the group is divided, everyone expected you to accompany Johanna and Katniss. you'd always been Johanna's shadow, following her every move like a puppy. your decision to stick with Peeta and Finnick shocks everyone, but there's no time for surprise as the plan moves forward and you all scatter in different directions.

things don't go exactly as planned. at some point, you lose sight of Peeta and Finnick and find yourself alone and lost.

suddenly, a blinding light fills your vision, followed by an earth-shattering explosion. the last thing you remember is the force of the blast knocking you off your feet, and then everything goes black.

⚘

when you finally regain consciousness, you're greeted by another blinding light. you groan in discomfort, shielding your sensitive eyes as you try to adjust to your surroundings.

"y/n?" a voice calls out. it's familiar, but your brain can’t quite seem to make the connection.

"jo?" you respond automatically, confusion setting in.

"no, y/n, it's Katniss. you're safe now." the voice reassures you. but despite the words, the voice sounds eerily like Johanna's. your heart aches at the thought of her. you miss her more than you thought possible.

"y/n, are you there?" a soft touch on your cheek prompts you to finally open your eyes. but instead of Johanna's familiar face, you're met with the worried gaze of Katniss. "hey... hey, please listen," she implores, reaching out to touch your hand. "you're in district thirteen now, you're safe," she attempts to reassure, though her voice wavers precariously, as if she herself isn't quite convinced by her own words.

you swallow hard, the action causing a painful scratch in your parched throat. “where’s.. jo?” you manage to croak out in a voice barely recognizable as your own, hoarse from dehydration and disuse.

your eyes track to Katniss's face, watching as her expression contorts, morphing into a look of... sadness. it's a profound sorrow that is etched deep into her features, a regret that shouldn't belong to this girl.

but what could the mockingjay possibly regret?

your gaze locks with hers, the intensity of your stare prompting you to ask again, “Katniss? where's Johanna?”

“the Capitol... the Capitol has her,” the brunette finally confesses, her sigh echoing through the sterile hospital room. “we.. they.. they got Peeta and Johanna… Annie too.”

the words strike you like a physical blow, causing you to strain against the bindings of your hospital bed. “you... you left her?!” you shriek, your voice breaking mid-sentence and descending into a fit of coughing.

Katniss, seemingly prepared for your reaction, hands you a glass of water. "we, i... i didn't leave her behind," she clarifies, her voice barely above a whisper.

you drink the water, each gulp soothing your raw throat. the cup, now empty, is slammed down onto the bedside table as you stubbornly attempt to push yourself out of the bed.

your legs wobble under your weight as you force yourself to stand, “we... we have to go get her,” you manage to murmur, your voice barely audible.

“don't you think i'm already trying?” Katniss reacts quickly, her voice rising in frustration as she guides you back into the bed. “i’m doing everything i can to get them all safe.”

“but-”

“no buts. you need to rest.”

“Katniss, i’m fine. i need to help Johanna.”

the taller girl shakes her head, her expression solemn, “the explosion broke countless of your bones, including your collarbones and your tibia."

your protest practically dies in your throat, “but-”

“what help would you be to Johanna if you can't even stand properly?"

her words cut through you, leaving you feeling small and helpless.

“she'll be okay, y/n. i won't rest until they’re all safe.”

despite her reassuring words, you can’t shake off the feeling of despair. you feel hollow, like a shell of your former self. your bones throb and itch, a painful reminder of your current state.

you want to cry, to let out all your frustration and fear, but your body can't even muster up the tears.

you're useless, utterly useless.

Johanna needs you, and you are incapable of saving her.

Katniss continues to speak to you, her voice becoming a distant buzz in the background. your mind is too muddled, too consumed by thoughts of Johanna to even try to decipher her words.

you're too focused on Johanna, your Johanna.

57 notes · View notes

cabotwife · 1 month

Text

would you guys be interested in reading stephcass fanfics if i made any??

#★彡 𝓬𝓪𝓫𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓼 彡★#stephcass #stephanie brown x reader #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #cassandra cain x reader #stephanie brown x cassandra cain #cassandra cain x stephanie brown #batfam #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #damian wayne #duke thomas #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #tim drake x reader #duke thomas x reader

34 notes · View notes

cabotwife · 1 month

Text

(ii) Kill or Be Killed

series master list, (i),

Finnick Odair x sister reader x brother Percy Jackson, Annie Cresta x sister reader

chapter warnings: not proofread, descriptions of violence, blood, stabbing, bad cliche ig..

word count: 3009

❧ summary: nothing could prepare you for the tortures of the arena.

✮

the room is so silent and still, it's as if the world has paused around you. the young girls around you, sensing the tension and the impending doom, move away from you, creating a vacuum.

you look around, your eyes welling up with tears as two stern peacekeepers push you towards the stage with an unnecessary force.

"don’t be shy dear, come on,” the tall woman chuckles, but her laughter only echoes emptiness and insensitivity.

her words make you feel sick. they are an unpleasant reminder that this is all just a big, twisted game for the people of the Capitol, a sickening spectacle of their power and cruelty.

you stand stiffly on the stage next to her, staring out at the sea of people, their faces a mix of fear, sorrow, and resignation.

the woman, oblivious to your discomfort, smiles at you, her hand rests lightly on your shoulder before pulling it back to pull the name of the male tribute.

your eyes lock with Percy’s and you can tell he’s fighting back tears, struggling to hold onto his composure.

your throat feels dry as you glance at the woman next to you, praying to every deity in existence that she doesn’t read your brother’s name.

“Brooks Royle!” she calls in a singsong tone, her voice echoing through the square and bouncing off the silent buildings.

you let out a shaky breath, your watery eyes frantically scanning the crowd to find the boy. Your heart sinks to your stomach when your eyes land on a small, scruffy-looking 12-year-old. he looks so tiny, so out of place in this scene of horror.

you watch as he's brought to the stage, a permanent frown playing on your lips. you feel a sense of foreboding, a dread that is hard to shake off.

once the boy is on the stage, standing on the opposite side of the woman than you are, the woman places her hands on both of your backs as she talks to the crowd.

your eyes soon find Finnick’s, despite the situation, he's trying to remain stoic so he can comfort Annie. your eyes then fall from those of your older brother to the crumpled mess of his girlfriend.

you squint your eyes slightly as you stare at her and the tears form in your eyes again, threatening to spill over, but they never do. they remain a silent testament to your fear, your despair.

you gnaw lightly on your bottom lip, a silent thought running through your head, she shouldn’t have worn that sweater. you try to convince yourself that this is the reason the redheaded woman was sobbing against your brother. now she has to stay out here longer.. she’ll overheat.

your thoughts are interrupted when you feel yourself being dragged off the stage and into a room.

“Y/N!” you hear your name being screamed, the voice echoing in your head. but before you can look behind you, the door slams shut. and before you know it, you're in a room, all alone.

you stare at the door, trying to wrap your head around everything. it feels like a nightmare, one you desperately want to wake up from.

after a few minutes, Annie pushes into the room, her face pale and red all at once. Finnick and Percy follow her in, their faces mirroring her despair.

“oh, y/n.” Annie cries, her voice choked with emotion as she crashes into you, pulling you into her arms, “oh my sweet girl.”

you swallow hard, biting back the urge to cry. you have to stay strong for them.

the redhead pulls back, cupping your cheek as she stares down at you. her cheeks are soaked with tears and her eyes are so red they're nearly bloodshot.

you fight harder to keep the tears at bay, your bottom lip trembling as you stare up at the woman who has been like a mother to you since your own had passed.

Percy and Finnick stay silent, just watching. but the younger of the two is practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, itching to get a word in before they’re dragged out.

you’ve all done this before, twice. once for Finnick and once for Annie. this isn't new, but it's still terrifying.

Percy is staring at his hands that hang down by his side, he’s counting how much time remains. time, it seems, is running out.

Annie pulls you into another hug, looser this time, and she rests her chin on the top of your head. “it’s okay to cry, y/n, i know you’re afraid. it’s okay.” she whispers through a shaky breath. her words are meant to comfort you, but they only serve as a reminder of the hopelessness of your situation.

you swallow once more, shoving the tears down. “i’m fine,” you respond, your voice low. you pull back from the redhead. you smile up at her, then you turn to look at your brothers, “i’m fine. everything is okay," you reassure them, but your words ring hollow, even to your own ears.

Percy’s watering eyes meet yours and you frown at him. you pull back completely from Annie, letting your entire body face the shorter boy. you open your arms, inviting him forward.

the blonde wastes no time, quickly rushing forward into your arms. you immediately wrap your arms around him in response, “oh, Perce..” you whisper, pressing your nose into his hair as you two hug tightly, holding onto each other as if you’ll never see each other again.

because you might not.

“i love you, okay?” you whisper against his blonde curls, “i love you so much,” you mutter. your words are desperate, pleading almost. you need him to be strong, to be brave.

Percy nods against your shirt and you can feel his tears soaking the cloth. his silent tears are more powerful than any words he could ever say.

you look to Finnick, his eyes are teary and his cheeks are wet. you’ve never seen your older brother cry. he didn’t cry when he got reaped, he didn’t cry when mom and dad died, and he didn’t even cry when Annie got reaped.

the sight is new for you, and it makes a wave of nausea hit you. it's a stark reminder of the reality of your situation.

you know you don’t have to bid the older blonde farewell, seeing as he has to come with you, to mentor you and young Brooks. still, though, you nod your head at him, motioning him closer.

the tall boy hesitates for a moment before he rushes over to take you and Percy into his arms. Annie joins shortly after.

you can’t find it in you to enjoy the hug, though it does bring a sense of comfort. it's a small respite in the midst of chaos.

but soon, that comfort is torn away. two tall peacekeepers barge into the room to take you to the train.

one of them escorts Annie and Percy out of the room. Percy tries to fight but its of no use, the door is slammed behind them.

leaving you, Finnick, and the other peacekeeper in the room. the room is suddenly too big, too empty. and you're left alone once again, to face the reality of your grim fate.

⚘

the journey to the Capitol was surprisingly silent, broken only by the soothing tones of Finnick as he tried to comfort young, weeping, Brooks Royle. your older brother's indifference towards your presence was an unexpected sting.

he acted as if you were a ghost, an invisible entity.

Mags was seated nearby, her gaze lost in the distance. she seemed to be consumed by her own thoughts, perhaps reliving past horrors or contemplating the grim future.

the thought of her and Finnick, burdened with the responsibility of mentoring young children destined to die, filled you with a sense of dread.

your eyes met those of a tall blonde. you offered him a gentle, comforting smile - a feeble attempt to lighten the heaviness that hung in the air. but he merely averted his gaze. disheartened, you returned to your aimless gazing of the passing landscape through the window of the speeding train.

⚘

upon arrival, you were immediately whisked away for bathing and dressing. before you knew it, you found yourself adorned in a rather elegant dress of blue and white ripples, embellished with countless pearls. pearls were everywhere - stitched into the fabric of your dress, draped around your neck, and woven into your hair.

Brooks' attire was a reflection of yours, a ruffled tuxedo in varying shades of blue. you suppressed an eye roll at the sight of the young boy covered in pearls.

assisting Brooks, you both mounted your chariot, your arm on his back to steady him. chariots were not designed for comfort or safety; they were built for speed.

everything happened so fast. before you knew it, the introductions were over and you were reunited with Finnick and Mags, who escorted you to your suite.

tomorrow training begins.

⚘

the next few days were filled with anxiety and tension. Finnick's obvious avoidance of you only added to your unease. he focused his attention on Brooks or frequently disappeared with the district seven girl he was odd friends with, Johanna Mason.

Johanna was intriguing, though you had never really spoken to her.

Johanna was pretty, you guess, far prettier than many other members of her district.

your skill demonstration earned you a score of 8, which only proved to upset Finnick. when you tried to approach him, he stormed off before he could witness Brooks' score of 6. you comforted the young boy with a hug and words of encouragement, you told him you were proud of him.

⚘

"stay diligent. expect the unexpected. you're never safe, not in that arena, always keep your guard up," Finnick warned, his words tumbling out in a rush as you prepared for the arena. he cupped your cheeks and planted a dry kiss on your forehead, "stay safe, little sister."

you hugged him quickly before entering your tube. tilting your head, a small smile played on your lips. "i love you," you say quietly just before the tube closed and propelled you into the arena.

the bright light was blinding as you emerged onto the podium for district four. your gaze was drawn to the cornucopia, but before you could take in your surroundings, a loud explosion startled you.

a competitor from district ten had stepped off their podium early. that's when you noticed the entire ground was covered in sand.

your head whipped around, a hot, dry desert extended in all directions.

fuck.

soon a blaring gunshot sounds through the arena and at least 17 tributes ran towards the center.

you knew better though, you hopped off your stand and hightail it towards one of the nearby sand dunes.

this arena is godawful, nowhere to hide.

that’s probably what they wanted.. a quick game.

it’s doubtful it’ll last even a few days, not like the other games.

you’re not even running for two minutes before you get tackled, the two bodies rolling down the opposite side of the dune, wrestling the entire time.

once you stop rolling you shove the body away from you, scrambling to get to your feet.

when you look to the form, now pushing themselves to their feet, you see a tall, dark haired boy who you recognized from the training room.

he’s from district two. he’s a career.

you have to act fast, he probably has a weapon while you have nothing.

you see him reaching towards his thigh.

act fast

you hurriedly kick a foot-full of sand towards the tall boy’s face, inwardly cringing as he falls backwards with grains of sand caked in his eyes.

you rush to him, grabbing a silver dagger from his pocket before standing over him.

kill or be killed. you remind yourself.

you then plunge the sharp blade into the boy’s chest, swallowing harshly to ward off the nausea at the sickening crack and pop you hear. the sound is quickly followed by a bubble of blood forming in the career’s mouth before popping all over your forearms.

you rip the knife out of him, wiping the blood on his shirt before you run, trying to get as far away from the remaining tributes as you can.

and trying to push what had just happened out of your mind.

kill or be killed.

you run as fast and as far as you can, your feet sink into the fine sand with every step but you pay it no mind. all your thoughts are on surviving.

the sun sets quickly and soon the blazing hot desert is turning into a freezing cold tundra, caked in snow.

you sleep through the night, sending a silent prayer to any gods listening to keep you safe and from freezing to death.

you know your prayers were answered when you wake up the next morning to three canons going off in the distance.

you try to count in your head as you push yourself up from the moist sand. between 15 and 17 deaths.. you don’t know for sure. but that would leave somewhere around 9 and 7 tributes left.

honestly, the numbers confused you.

24 kids were unleashed into a barren desert and told to fight to win. there is nothing around, nowhere to hide.

how is anybody still alive?

you scale the sand dune you had been sleeping at the base of, kicking sand out behind you as you climb.

once you reach the top the first thing you notice is the remaining tributes had made teams. two teams of 4 to be exact.

once team of the remaining careers, and the other of two tall but scrawny boys, a mid-sized dark haired girl, and young Brooks Royle.

you feel unreasonably relieved when you notice your district-mate still standing, and seemingly better off than you.

Finnick’s training paid off, you think to yourself.

that thought brings a new feeling to your chest. you miss your brother, your brothers, and you miss Annie too.

you miss district four, the beaches and the fish, the warm salty air and the feeling of the sun kissing your face.

if you were to make it out of this arena, you don’t think you could ever see the sandy beaches in the same rosy light you always had before.

that day passes rather slowly, you keep your distance from the two teams who have seemingly forgotten about your existence, targeting only each other.

by the time the sand turns to snow, 3 more deaths raked through the arena. one career and two from Brooks’ side.

his chances are slimming and you find yourself worrying for the boy.

this night was colder than the last, making you unable to sleep.

so you stay awake, plotting.

both teams are asleep just a while past your dune, you could leave then to kill each other off and fight whoever is left standing.

or you could sneak down there now, in the dead of night, and put an end to this all.

you decide against the latter, still feeling sickened by your first kill.

kill or be killed, you chastise yourself mentally, swallowing harshly.

you settle in your, for now, snowy bank. closing your eyes and trying to get some sleep before the blazing morning comes.

your awoken again by a canon firing, and just like yesterday, you scale the sandy dune to see who has died this time. before you get to the top you hear another canon.

you peer over the top, expecting to see Brooks and his remaining teammate, a tall scrawny blonde boy you recognize as district twelve, laying dead on the scolding sand. but instead you see two dead careers, stabbed to death in their sleep it looks like.

the district twelve boy is fighting the remaining career while brooks is hidden by the cornucopia.

you furrow your eyebrows as you watch this play out.

you swallow down the large, dry lump in your throat at you hear the third canon fire.

the final career is dead. beaten by a outer-district boy.

your eyes land on where Brooks is hidden, now realizing the gravity of his situation. he is now being hunted by the bloodthirsty blonde boy who is at at least five years older than him.

you fumble around with the silver dagger in your hands and before you know it you’re clumsily running down the dune, towards the cornucopia. towards young, terrified Brooks Royle.

as you get closer you can hear the clashing of metal on metal, it sounds like an old-timey sword fight.

the loud sound of a canon firing echos through the air.

“NO!” you scream, your voice raspy and shaky.

you continue to run, your voice shocking the, much taller than you, boy and causing him to spin around to face you.

he’s holding a long, metal sword.

you plunge your dagger into his gut, causing him to stumble back while he swings his sword at you.

you kick sand at him, trying to repeat what you did to the district two boy only two days earlier.

it works the same, sand caking in his eyes, causing him to fall back, rubbing his eyes almost violently.

you stand over him, hands shaking as you hold your dagger.

you close your eyes tightly before you raise your arms above your head and quickly thrust the blade down into the center of the boy’s chest.

you hear the same sickening crack and pop, followed promptly by an echo of a canon booming.

you stand there, eyes squeezed shut and your hands covered in the blood of the boy underneath you.

when the distant victory music begins blaring through the arena you collapse onto your knees beside the lifeless body.

you let out a shaky sob as you bury your face in your arms, your forehead pressed against the warm sand.

[(taglist) : @yourfavmiki @poppyalice2001 @importantpotato @lisedanie @babyzzlove @yhaywhwvsh @sleighingstella @kendaltip190-blog @gianni7867 @urbisexualfriend @comets-tail2 @sh1nnryuu @randomgurl2326 @incorrect-sherlock @kenzieisgone @leathesimp @tacomumun3r @chanelmelon ] (lmk if i missed a tag / if u wanna be tagged.)

60 notes · View notes

cabotwife · 1 month

Note

^ my fav johanna author.

i'm gonna need some more hyper fem headcannons or smth 😓

my people don't get enough appreciation

would you consider doing a small drabble/headcannon of hyper fem r putting bows on johanna and/or her friends 🙏🏻🙏🏻

💙i hope you have a great day/night💙

anon thank you so much for the request!

you'd practically have to wrestle johanna into sitting still (or at the very least bribe her with a snack and plenty of kisses). johanna would insist that the bows be red to match her hair and you're more than happy to oblige. she’d do anything to see you smile— even if that means wearing matching necklaces, bows or bracelets etc! imagine walking through victors village with matching bows in your hair, it'd be so adorable!! finnick would tease her for being a sap but as long as you're happy, she thinks its worth it <3

#★彡 𝓬𝓪𝓫𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓼 彡★#fic rec #the hunger games #wlw #thg #johanna mason #headcanons #wlw headcanons #johanna mason x reader #fem!reader

26 notes · View notes

cabotwife · 2 months

Note

johanna who picks at her fingernails as a nervous habit

reader who holds johanna's hand when she notices to help calm her down / stop her from picking at her already stubby nails

oh anon i love this so much! johanna one thousand percent picks at her nails —there’s times when theres nearly nothing left anymore and that probably happens more frequently after she’s taken by the capitol. she’s so used to picking at her nails that she doesn’t even notice half the time, so when you’re ever so gently taking hold of her hand, it takes her a while to realize what your ulterior motive is. she may roll her eyes but she definitely doesn’t mind because she adores being close to you <33

#johanna mason #johanna mason x reader #my gf (real)

38 notes · View notes

cabotwife · 2 months

Text

i'm sorry ch2 for PTG is taking so long:( i have ~1k written, but my mental health got really bad all of a sudden and a lot has been happening, so i've jus been trying to deal w & fix everything:(

#★彡 𝓬𝓪𝓫𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓼 彡★#🌊↪𝕻𝖑𝖆𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕲𝖆𝖒𝖊 #the hunger games #percy jackson and the olympians #clarisse la rue x reader #johanna mason x reader #clarisse la rue #johanna mason

12 notes · View notes

cabotwife · 2 months

Note

are you going to discontinue the clarisse x fem reader hunger games fic bc of what Dior said?

..what did Dior say?

but as of right now, i'm still working on it, i'm js not very used to multiple part stories, so writing longer chapters is abnormal to me 😭🙏🏻

#★彡 𝓬𝓪𝓫𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓼 彡★#🌊↪𝕻𝖑𝖆𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕲𝖆𝖒𝖊 #the hunger games #percy jackson and the olympians #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason

32 notes · View notes

cabotwife · 2 months

Text

why do my domestic fics do so bad 💔

why u hate soft Johanna 😓🙏🏻

#★彡 𝓬𝓪𝓫𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓼 彡★#the hunger games #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason #thg johanna #johanna my love #soft johanna

27 notes · View notes

cabotwife · 2 months

Text

i let out a little squeal of joy every time someone reblogs my posts

#★彡 𝓬𝓪𝓫𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓼 彡★

4 notes · View notes

cabotwife · 2 months

Note

Hi hello! I saw that you opened your request again. I’ve got one for Johanna Mason. It is post war and reader has been helping Johanna through her trauma and healing. Johanna has taken up wood carvings and during a rainy day, when reader checks up on her carving progress, Johanna responds happily and includes “I’m so happy to be alive” at the end. And then she realizes that for the first time she really meant it. Maybe she gets emotionally happy at that milestone too.

The Sun Shines Once More

Johanna Mason x Fem!Reader

warnings: ooc Johanna, (man baby Johanna..), not proofread

word count: 1224

a/n: this took me 5 hours (most of which was spent scrolling through tiktok after forgetting what i was doing)

✮

“Jo?” you mumble as you’re brought out of your peaceful sleep by the shuffling woman.

Johanna freezes at the sound of your voice. her eyes snap towards you, guilt flashing across her face for having disturbed you. "shit," she mutters under her breath, an apology quickly following. "sorry," she murmurs, making room for you to snuggle closer to her, your eyes still squeezed shut and your mind fuzzy with sleep.

curiosity nudges you towards wakefulness. "why're you up?" you mumble, peeling your eyes open to look up at the brunette. it is still dark outside, and the soft pitter-patter of rain against the cabin window only adds to your confusion. nothing but a serious case of insomnia could have pushed Johanna out of bed this early.

"got antsy," she avoids your gaze, her eyes darting away from yours.

you hum in response, burying your face in her bicep as you try to come up with something to say, "what were you gonna do, baby?" you finally ask.

Johanna takes a moment to respond. "was gonna go work.."

"outside?"

"outside."

you can't help but roll your eyes at her stubbornness. "you're not going outside, it's raining, stupid."

her glare is almost palpable. "i'm not fucking blind."

a silent standoff ensues, your mutual glares clashing in the dim light. eventually, you relent, "can't you just work on a smaller project.. one you can do inside? maybe use a piece of firewood."

she huffs, obviously not thrilled about the change in plans, but she considers your words. "i guess i can," she finally mumbles, her voice gruff.

you smile in satisfaction, "okay then, you go do that." you give her arm a playful shove, rolling away from her to reclaim your sleep.

⚘

after a few hours you get awoken again by a particularly loud crash of thunder. you groan in annoyance, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you push yourself out of the comfort of your bed, making your way to the cabin kitchen to get something to eat.

as you enter the kitchen, you notice the hunched over form of Johanna at the small dining table. you tilt your head, puzzled at what she could possibly be doing. then you remember your conversation from earlier in the morning.

a smile tugs at your lips, "how's it going, baby?" you ask softly, walking over to her. you place your hand gently on her shoulder, careful not to startle her.

Johanna looks up at you, a grin lighting up her face, "good," she hums in reply.

curiosity piqued, you try to get a glimpse of her new project, "whatcha working on?"

her chuckle is low and teasing, "not telling," she says, pulling the sculpture against her chest to hide it from your prying eyes.

you huff in mock annoyance, "why not? i just wanna see your pretty art."

"it's a surprise, dumbass," she retorts, rolling her eyes as she glares up at you.

you squint your eyes back down at her, "ugh," you grunt, pushing away from her and walking back to the kitchen, "what ever am i to do without my lovely girlfriend's attention?" your words are playful, a light tone teasing the edges of your voice as you begin to prepare something to eat.

Johanna chooses to ignore your dramatics, her response limited to a small chuckle.

the cabin is filled with a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the steady rhythm of Johanna's carving knife against the block of wood.

"want anything to eat, Jo?" you ask, breaking the silence as you pull out a carton of eggs from the fridge.

Johanna's head snaps up at your question, her eyes brightening at the prospect of food. "yes please," she responds.

you raise an eyebrow at her, "and what do you want?"

"whatever you're making. i'm starved," Johanna mutters, shuffling in her chair as her gaze lingers on you.

with a sigh, you turn back towards the counter, "did you eat anything for breakfast?" you already know the answer but ask anyway.

"no."

you can't help but huff in exasperation, "what am I gonna do with you, girl.."

a wide grin spreads on Johanna's face, "feed me?"

you roll your eyes, hiding the smile that threatens to spill over your lips. "eggs and bacon okay with you?"

"and toast?"

you turn to her, squinting your eyes suspiciously, "you gonna toast your own bread?"

Johanna grunts in reply, turning back to her work.

"needy ass," you grumble, reaching for the bacon. but despite your words, you can't help the warmth that spreads in your chest knowing that Johanna trusts you enough to let you take care of her.

the brunette merely mimics your grumble, a teasing note in her voice as the two of you lapse into silence once more.

the soft sizzle of bacon and eggs cooking on the stove fills the cabin, accompanied by the rhythmic sound of Johanna's carving.

after a while, the food is ready. you carefully dish it out onto two plates and walk over to the table. "here, baby," you say as you place a heaping plate of food in front of Johanna.

her face lights up at the sight of the food, and she quickly pushes her carving knife and the half-finished sculpture away so she can dig in.

you seat yourself next to her, an eyebrow raised in question as you watch her eat. "you're not going to wash your hands?" you ask, a hint of judgment creeping into your voice. Johanna, however, chooses to ignore your words, focusing solely on the food in front of her.

you roll your eyes in defeat, "whatever, nasty." but despite your words, you can't help but admire the small sculpture that now sits abandoned on the table.

"what is it?" you ask, nodding towards the piece of wood.

Johanna looks up from her plate, her eyes following your gaze to the sculpture. "it's you," she says.

"me?"

"yeah. you."

you can't help but smile, "it's very pretty, i love it."

"very pretentious of you," she teases between mouthfuls of food.

you huff, rolling your eyes, but stay silent, choosing instead to focus on your meal.

you and Johanna have this routine, comfortable silences punctuating your day. she's not one for idle chatter, and you respect her boundaries. you don't force anything on her, not even a simple conversation.

eventually, Johanna finishes her meal, pushing her empty plate away as she pulls her sculpture back towards her, eager to resume her work.

you remain seated, watching her as she works, fascinated by the way her hands shape the wood into intricate forms.

"hey, Jo?" you say, your voice soft as you lean forward, your eyes still locked on her hands.

"mhm?" she hums in response.

"i love you."

Johanna looks up at you, a cheeky grin on her face. "yeah?"

you nod, holding her gaze. "i love you too then," she chuckles out her response before returning to her work.

it’s silent for a moment before she speaks again, “i’m happy, y’know.” she mumbles, not looking up from the wood as she glides her knife over it. “that i’m alive ‘n able to live this life with you.”

your heart clenches at her words. "yeah?" you whisper back, mimicking her previous response to your words.

she chuckles softly, nodding in response, "yeah."

#johanna mason #johanna mason x reader #the hunger games #thg x reader #thg #catching fire #mockingjay #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #katniss everdeen #katniss everdeen x reader #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark #coriolanus x reader

114 notes · View notes