#johanna x yn

[ilguna]

Could I get a soulmate AU Johanna mason x victor reader enemies to lovers? like they spend the entire time hating each other just to find out when they’re in district 13 that they’re each other’s soulmates? even after they find out reader is still reluctant with not wanting to talk to Johanna but Johanna kinda trying to make an effort cause she’s seeing her differently now thank u & congratulations on 3k follows

☼ falling leaves (Johanna Mason) ☼

warnings; swearing, death mention, johanna's mean and self-centered, mild name calling.

wc; 4.7k

notes; enjoy all angst, no happy ending.

--

When it comes to being delusional, Johanna Mason takes the cake. 

There has not been one conversation you’ve unwillingly had with her where you didn’t think that she’s crazy. The way she holds herself and blatantly disrespects the people around her as if she has some sense of superiority is absolutely mindblowing. It’s like she has yet to realize that all of you are in the same shitty boat, regardless of how you may or may not have won your Games.

If you had to guess, you’d say it has something to do with the popularity and how you handled it. It wasn’t outrageous or anything, at least you don’t think so. It was a normal reaction. You did what any other sane tribute would do in an outlying district that found themselves with every pair of eyes in the Capitol—you wholly and completely embraced the people. 

Every move you made was catered to them, that way if you were in need in the arena, you’d be able to get exactly what you wanted. This would come with consequences later on, but you didn’t know that, and you don’t really care now, either. As long as you got the advantage and a sliver of a chance of making it out alive, you didn’t care.

And with you feeding into the fire with your cooperation, you easily ended up being the most popular tribute, surpassing the Careers. That was far from your goal, you flew a little bit too close to the sun, which got you this massive target on your back. 

Still, you persevered. You let the Careers hate you, minded your own business, gaining sponsors by the minute. When you received a score of seven, they took a step back. In your interview with Caesar, you drew them back in by talking about how glamorous the Capitol is. If there was one thing you learned, it was that they were a sucker for compliments. Whatever made them feel better.

Well, it worked. All of it. You won the Hunger Games two and a half weeks in. The hardest part was shaking the Careers long enough to split them up and frame a betrayal, which never should have worked. They turned on each other, forgetting about your existence, until there was one left. He was too injured to win, anyway. You picked him off, and your announcement came five minutes later.

You continued to sing praises in the Capitol’s direction up until your Victory Tour, where you were finally able to stop when you got home to District Eleven. You were no longer important enough to focus on, allowing you to settle into victor life. And every time someone asked you if you really thought the Capitol was so great, through a bright smile you’d tell them no.

You met Johanna the following year, and from the very second she laid eyes on you, you knew that the two of you were not going to get along. Her face was twisted, eyes narrowed in your direction. She had her arms crossed over her chest, and she was standing with Finnick Odair.

You remember thinking to yourself, this is not victor solidarity. How could they judge you for a strategy that worked? It wasn’t at all what you were expecting from a pair of people that had suffered the way you had. Especially when they were the talk of the Capitol, themselves. 

You came to the realization that you had survived the Hunger Games, but you’d never stop living with the scrutiny of your win for the rest of your life. No matter where you’d go or who you’d talk to, everyone would have an opinion. They’d either think it was smart or a blatant cheap shot.

They would never stop to think that they had come into the Capitol with a different list of things they were willing to do. If they wanted to leave with dignity, if they were fine seeming shallow, if they would settle for nothing less than tough, if they wanted to be a nobody.

For Johanna, you quickly figured out that she wasn’t going to let them help her. She wanted to figure it out on her own, and she did. She downplayed herself to make it seem like she wasn’t a threat. By crying through the reaping and the Tribute Parade, she ensured the idea that she was soft.

When it came to training, she purposely failed at everything she touched to make her seem weak. After scoring a three, all the remaining potential sponsors flew out the window, furthering her agenda. No one would think twice about her, not even the tributes. They wouldn’t have a need to hunt her down in the arena, because she was helpless.

She couldn’t have planned it any better. She hid and waited for a bulk of the tributes to be dead before she decided it was time to show off who she really was. And that was smart and brutal. With there being so little people left, she was able to take out the remaining tributes in less than a week, and was promptly crowned victor.

Her cowardly act was dropped in the interviews that followed. You remember seeing them in passing, noting how she was barely able to hide her distaste for the Capitol. At the time, you thought about how if you were in her shoes, you wouldn’t be as openly hateful.

And as if it were a test, you were reaped the next summer.

It’s just an odd experience to be shunned so heavily by her and Finnick. You expected it more from the Career mentors, but Cashmere, Gloss and Enobaria were so welcoming. They didn’t care where you were from, just the fact that you managed to get their level of popularity coming from nothing.

You suppose that didn’t help your case. Still, that shouldn’t have mattered, anyway. You all won in your own respectable ways. You used the sponsors until they were dry, Johanna pretended to be a damsel, and Finnick won young by trapping tributes in his net and stabbing them with his trident.

She’s been caught on your actions ever since. Despite the fact that you’re merely a year younger than her, or that you’re not the same person you were for the Games, she can’t see past the fact that you threw yourself into the Capitol’s arms. In fact, she called you childish for it.

When you heard that through the grapevine, you knew that any hope of friendship between you two was gone. You wanted to give her time to realize that you’re not a terrible person, but if she was going to start to go down that path, you weren’t going to entertain her. She could be who she wanted to be, you’d just have a pole to keep her at a distance.

It worked for a couple of years, and then it washed down the drain when the Quarter Quell came around. Chaff told you that if you wanted to go back into the arena, you’d have to be willing to help. If not, Seeder would go in instead. As much as you would’ve liked to stay home, you knew that you couldn’t sit back and do nothing. Seeder would be a better leader in District Eleven, and you’d be more helpful in the arena.

When you learned that you’d have to work alongside Johanna and Finnick, you began to regret it. Johanna’s entitled, all she does is run her mouth. She likes to push buttons—yours especially, because she knows that you’re trying to be better than her. It was a tragedy when you accidentally found her in the jungle, because you’d rather deal with Finnick. At least his comments are passive-aggressive.

Besides Johanna’s attempts to piss you off, the arena was surprisingly easy to get through. You ignored her, only speaking to Finnick when it was necessary. You’re sure it was glaringly obvious to Katniss and Peeta that you and Johanna hated each other, but that didn’t get in the way.

And while not everyone made it out of the arena, you did. A nasty period of survivor’s guilt followed, because it wasn’t easy knowing that the ones who got taken by the Capitol were being tortured. It should’ve been you with them, because you’d left Johanna early to make it back to the lightning tree before midnight.

She has not let you live that down. It’s all she talks about—how you abandoned her and Peeta to save your own life. She’s called you every bad name that she can think of to anyone who will listen. Her favorite one being selfish. That one comes out of her mouth so often that it sounds foreign to you now. 

It’s funny, because Finnick nearly did the same thing. He initially left the tree to find you, Katniss and Johanna because the wire snapped. And when he realized he wasn’t going to find any of you in time, he started to go back to the tree after he heard Katniss shouting for Peeta. By the time you got there, Katniss had already shot the arrow at the dome, and they were all paralyzed on the floor.

No matter how many times you bring this up to her, on the occasions you feel like arguing, she tells you that it’s different. Finnick was doing his job by going to save the Mockingjay. And that he was to guard the tree with Beetee, anyway. It made sense for him to go back to it.

You know you dig your grave a little further each time you throw Finnick under the bus, but you refuse to be held to a higher standard. It’s hypocrisy, because he’s her best friend, and she’s wearing rose tinted glasses when it comes to him. Sometimes you contemplate how much trouble you’d get in for wringing her neck, and then you wonder if you’ll earn an ounce of respect from her for doing it.

“I didn’t know you had tattoos.” A voice says.

You jump, pulling the top of the jumpsuit to your chest as you turn to see who it is that’s intruding. It’s Finnick, of course. He’s standing in the doorway of your assigned room, which you occupy alone. They had tried to make him your roommate, because from the surface it looked like you got along. 

It didn’t work out for multiple reasons. The main one being that he had so many breakdowns from his girlfriend being in the Capitol that he repeatedly got sent back to the hospital to be monitored. They kept his name on the plate next to the door with yours for a few weeks, but ultimately took it down when it was apparent that he wasn’t going to be stable enough to be on his own. 

And now that Annie is here in District Thirteen, he lives in a room with her.

“So is knocking not a custom in District Four?” You ask, face twisted. “Or are you a creep?”

Finnick’s eyebrows shoot up, and then he lets out a laugh. “I did knock, I thought you heard me.”

“Clearly not.” You snap, pulling your arms through the top of the jumpsuit. You button the front, looking over him. “And my tattoos are none of your concern.”

He ignores what you’ve said. “Did you get them in the Capitol?”

You press your lips together. “Where else would I have gotten them?”

He makes a face. “I don’t know, District Eleven?”

“We have more Peacekeepers than any of the districts combined, and you think we have tattoo parlors?” You ask. “And one of them is my soulmate mark, so it doesn’t count.” 

“Doesn’t mean you don’t know how to have fun.”

You glare. “What do you want?”

He takes in a breath. “You’re needed in Command.”

You sigh, motioning for Finnick to lead the way. He happily turns around in the doorway, heading out. You shut the door behind you, following him to the elevator. 

“Which tattoo is your soulmate mark?” Finnick asks.

“None of your business.” You tell him, trying to shut him down.

“Mine is this one.” He rolls up the sleeve on his right arm, getting it above his bicep to show you a pair of koi fish. “Annie has the same one.”

“I figured.” You mutter.

“Is it the one on your back left shoulder?” 

It is, he probably got a good view of it while you were trying to get dressed. You’re not sure how he came to the conclusion it’s that one in particular, because you have a group of tattoos on your back. It was advised for you to keep your front half clean for pictures. No one would want a picture of your back.

You went with it, even though you would’ve liked to be able to see them. You convinced yourself to wait a few years before you decide to do what you want. You thought by the time the next generation of victors came out, you’d be out of the spotlight and no one would care then.

“Why does it matter?” You counter.

“I’ve never seen a soulmate tattoo that big before.” Finnick shrugs, “Usually they’re smaller.”

“Yours isn’t that small.”

“I said usually.” Finnick looks at you.

When you make it to Command, you step inside to find it as cold and dark as it normally is. There’s a group of people standing on the far side of the room, the closer you get, the better you’re able to see who it is. The most notable faces are President Coin, Plutarch Heavensbee, and Haymitch Abernathy. 

Plutarch gives you a wide smile when you stop at the table. “Here she is now.”

“There’s no telling how Peeta would react to her.” Haymitch shakes his head. “If you want him to do this, he would have to do it alone.”

“Nonsense.” Plutarch waves him off. “Tell me, (Y/n), you used to bake, right?”

Your face scrunches. “How do you know that?”

“Your Victory Tour.” He says. “You said you made cakes and pies.”

You look from him to the table, because you honestly don’t remember mentioning that during your Victory Tour. “At home, yes.”

“And for weddings and parties.” He insists.

You stare at him in bewilderment. “I guess.”

Plutarch nods, looking at Coin. “I told you that she’d fit the description.”

“What do you need cakes and pies for?” You ask, looking at Haymitch for help.

“Finnick and Annie are getting married.” He tells you. “They would like Peeta to make the cake for the wedding.”

“So why do you need me?” 

“To help.” Plutarch says, as if it’s obvious. “Peeta won’t be able to make a cake that large on his own. And the staff in the kitchen aren’t prepared to tackle this task.”

“And I am?” You raise your eyebrows.

“Peeta will be in charge.” Coin clarifies. “You’ll help.”

You turn to look at Finnick, who’s approached the table, standing between you and Plutarch. You stare at him for a long moment, thinking of all the times he was an ass to you. How you swallowed it because you wanted to be the bigger person. Yet, he’s older than you so he should know better. And he never once stepped in to stop Johanna.

You decide to cash in on your good behavior. “No.”

When you look back at Coin, she’s got a hard expression on her face, encouraging you to challenge her further. Plutarch gawks for a second. “Well, we were hoping—”

“No, I’m not doing this for them.” You shake your head. “I have nothing against Annie, but Finnick is a different story.” You motion in a circle with your hand. “He does not deserve my help.”

Finnick makes a noise of disbelief. “Why?”

“Because we’re not friends.” You deadpan. “You made that explicitly clear during my first year of mentoring—you and Johanna. And while she was smearing my name, you didn’t once think to stop her.”

Haymitch sighs, eyes on Plutarch. “I tried to explain this to you.”

“That’s petty victor drama.” Plutarch tries to brush it off. “This is for a greater purpose, we want to film a propo to show the Capitol that we’re still celebrating.”

This bothers you too, but not nearly as much as making a cake for Finnick. “If Finnick wants me to help, he’ll apologize and ask me, himself.” You look at him, “Otherwise, Peeta can make the cake on his own.”

All eyes shift to Finnick expectantly. You watch as his skin begins to turn a gentle shade of red, embarrassed. “(Y/n), I’m sorry that I didn’t help you. Will you please make a cake for Annie and I?”

A part of you wishes you could make him beg a little bit more, but for now, this is good enough. “Sure, Finnick. It would be my honor.”

—

“Peeta, I knew you baked, but I didn’t think that you were this good.” You tell him, chewing on a piece of cake that he let you try.

“Thanks.” He lets out a laugh, using the back of his hand to move a stray hair out of his face.

“You said your parents were bakers?” You ask. “How did you manage that?”

“Yes, we all were. My parents ran it, my brothers and I worked. It wasn’t easy. The only reason why people could afford it was because we had to lower our prices.” He reaches for the blue dye at the end of the counter. “It was easier to run after I won.”

“I can imagine.” You nod. “I could finally buy the ingredients I wanted, instead of working with what I had.”

Peeta drops some of the food coloring into the icing. When he decides it’s enough, he stirs the color in, and you watch as it turns from white to a dark blue. Once it’s not getting any more potent, he backs away, reaching for the towel to dust the flour off his hands before reaching to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

“It’s so hot in here.” He shakes his head. “And stuffy. At the bakery, we’d open the windows to keep it from becoming a sauna.”

“There are no windows here.” You laugh. “It’s just a cement box. It’s a good thing I convinced Plutarch to give us tank tops. Could you imagine trying to work in those jumpsuits?”

He practically rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t be.”

“I don’t think you were given much of a choice.” 

“Yeah, and neither were you.” He moves to the sink to wash his hands before returning to icing the cake. 

He’s finally gotten to the final tier. It’s taken him almost two hours to do the top half with how intricate the design is. It’s a good thing that he’s talented in that aspect, all you can do is make the cake base taste good on its own. 

You yawn, chin resting on your palm while you watch him create more waves. Your eyes flicker to the guards standing in the corner, who are here just in case Peeta has another one of his moments. He’s not himself yet, there are still times where he slips and freaks out. You’re sure you had them on the edge of their seat when you mentioned the family’s bakery.

“You can go, (Y/n).” Peeta tells you, backing off to fix the pipe in his hand. “I’m probably going to be here for a while longer to make the finishing touches.”

“Are you sure? I’m fine staying to keep you company.” You offer.

“No, it’s fine. I like the quiet.” He waves you off. “Go ahead.”

“Thank you.” You smile. “Will you be there tomorrow night for the wedding?”

“Most likely not, but feel free to visit me in the cell.”

You hold back your laugh, walking away. “I’ll keep that in mind. Goodnight, Peeta.”

“Goodnight.” He murmurs.

You push the door to leave the kitchen, shutting it gently behind you. A small hallway leads you directly into the dining area, where there’s dozens of picnic tables set up to eat at during the day. At this time of night, they should all be empty, but there’s one person here, sitting at the table closest to the walkway.

Johanna.

You plan to ignore her and head straight for your room a few floors up, when she clears her throat. “We need to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.” You tell her, not bothering to stop. She gets to her feet.

You can hear her shoes against the floor, and then you feel a hard poke into the back of your left shoulder. “This is a problem.”

Your jaw sets as you turn quickly, grabbing her wrist. “Do not touch me.”

“When Finnick told me you had those leaves on the back of your shoulder, I didn’t believe him.” She says, face twisted. “Now that I’ve seen them, it’s different.”

You throw her arm back at her. “It’s none of your business, like I told him.”

“It is my business.” She tells you. “Considering it’s your soulmate mark.”

“Why? So you can spread rumors about that, too?” You shoot back. “I’m bulletproof, Johanna. Your words ricochet. All you’re doing is making an ass of yourself.”

“I have the same mark, idiot.” She snaps.

The insults you have sizzling on your tongue begin to die. “What?”

“The falling leaves? I have the same mark on my ribs.” She unbuttons her jumpsuit, pulling it wide open to show you the pale skin inside. By the dim light provided in the dining room, you’re able to see that she’s telling the truth.

Your face contorts. “You have to be kidding.”

“I’m obviously not.” She fixes the jumpsuit.

“That’s unfortunate.” You spit. You were hoping that you’d have someone that you could stand to be around.

“I don’t mind.” She admits.

“Well, I do.” You tell her, she locks eyes with you. “I wanted someone I actually liked and could get along with, not some egocentric asshole.”

“Egocentric.” She echoes.

“Yes, because you’re apparently better than I am, don’t you remember that? I’m inferior, you said so yourself.” You tilt your head. “I also remember you calling me pompous, and conceited, and hedonistic, and vain. And of course, your personal favorite, selfish. All words that mean the same thing, not that you’d know that.”

You throw your hands out. “Just because I had a different strategy on how to win the Hunger Games. This is actually so fucking ridiculous that it’s not funny anymore.”

Johanna stares at you, not knowing what to say.

“I mind.” You emphasize, “Now leave me alone.”

–

The next few days are a new level of torture that you’re not quite used to. It seems that word travels fast in this bunker, because you’ve heard everyone’s opinion about the matter on your hands. As if what they think will make a difference or change your mind.

The good thing is that you’re used to this treatment to a certain extent. It’s what happened while you were mentoring. Which would be amusing, if you’re not tired of being treated this way. You’re right back to being scrutinized, this time for a new scenario.

As if it couldn’t get any worse, you were informed earlier this afternoon that you’d have to participate in the wedding ceremony. Plutarch said he wasn’t going to pull you aside for an interview or demand you make a toast. He just wants you to be here, so that when they do catch you on camera, there’s a sense of camaraderie. Even if it’s clear on your face that you’d rather be elsewhere.

After working on that cake with Peeta for several days, you formed a friendship with him. You were hoping that they’d let him out so that you could talk to him throughout the wedding. They can’t risk it, not with Katniss in attendance. One wrong move and it could trigger him into another attack.

You’ve settled for blending in somewhere in the middle of the crowd. You’re keeping close to the front so you seem interested in the traditional dancing, but far away enough to the point you’ll be easily looked over. And you’re keeping your distance from Johanna, who’s still by the chairs on the other side of the room, because she hasn’t let the soulmate thing go. 

She wants to fix what she broke, not caring that you’re uninterested. Maybe if she knew how to treat people with dignity, it wouldn’t have gone this far. Instead, she chose to make assumptions about you and ran with it. While telling the people around her that her beliefs are true.

You can’t stand her.

When the crowd comes to a lull, they decide to bring out the cake, the only thing you were still here for. You wanted to see the reactions of the people around you, that way you’d be able to report it back to Peeta later on. While you might not have done much besides building the foundation, he did a fantastic job of making sure that not a single detail was missed on that cake. He deserves every ounce of praise.

There’s gasps, low murmurs. They don’t announce who made and decorated the cake, only that it had taken the two of you days to complete it on time. Once Finnick and Annie have cut out their slice, you quietly slip out of the room, wanting to go back to your bed, tired after the long day.

You don’t even make it a step before the door is opening behind you. You glance over your shoulder to see who it is, and see that it’s one of the many random people that were selected to participate.

“You’re a loyalist, aren’t you?” He asks, tone threatening.

“Excuse me?” You ask, slowing down.

“That’s why you kiss-ass when it comes to the Capitol.” He’s walking in your direction. “Always defendin’ them.”

District Twelve. The people of Thirteen don’t cut corners with words, a lot of the people of Katniss and Peeta’s district do, whether they realize it or not.

“I don’t defend the Capitol.”

“Your interviews said otherwise.” 

“Those were done years ago.” Your face twists. “I was a teenager when I was being asked those questions.”

“That doesn’t change anythin’. My skin crawls just knowin’ you’re sleepin’ on the same floor as me.”

“Then sleep on a different floor.” You tell him through gritted teeth. “You have a problem with something that isn’t even real. If I was a loyalist, would I have helped the rebels get Katniss out of the arena?”

“You left them behind.”

You roll your eyes, unable to help it. You were hoping you’d be through with this, but it seems as if Johanna’s words will continue to follow you. And now, they’re going to get you into some questionable situations. They aren’t dangerous for you, though. It is for him, coming up to you like this. You’ll flatten him on the concrete.

You take a step toward him, planning to teach him some manners when the door opens behind him, stopping you. Johanna’s face is screwed tight. “Leave her alone.”

The man scoffs. “I’d be doin’ us a favor, gettin’ rid of her.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” She snaps, striding forward to grab him, yanking him back. “If you so much as lay a finger on her, I’ll break every bone in your body.”

The tone of voice keeps him from pressing her further, raising his hands in defeat. He gives you a look before twisting out of her grasp, going back to join the party. 

You eye Johanna for a second, “I don’t need your help.”

“I know.” She heads for the door. “Doesn’t mean I won’t step in.”

You catch the look she sends your way before leaving the hallway. If this is what she plans to do in order to make you forgive her, she’ll be doing it for the rest of her life, because it’s practically meaningless to you.

Still, you suppose that you can give her some credit for trying.

--

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

#ilguna #johanna mason #johanna mason imagine #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason oneshot #johanna mason fanfic #johanna mason x you #johanna mason x y/n #johanna mason x yn #johanna imagine #johanna oneshot #johanna fanfic #johanna x reader #johanna x you #johanna x y/n #johanna x yn #thg #the hunger games #3k celebration #anon #ask #request #angst

[heartss4val]

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ྂ DATING JOHANNA MASON | gender not specified, but fem!aligned.

johanna mason, whose preferred love language is being an asshole. (affectionately)

johanna mason, whose walls always remain up after her two experiences in the arena, but somehow crumble involuntarily when she's around you.

johanna mason, who lets you touch up the cherry red streaks in her hair, standing between your legs while you sit on the countertop, face cradled in your hands as you coat every strand of hers with the color.

johanna mason, whose eyes flicker from sharp and piercing to ever so soft as her gaze lands on you.

johanna mason, who talks of future plans with you during the games should she not survive the quarter quell, dreaming of the house you would have bought and the life you would have shared if it weren't for the corruption of the capitol.

johanna mason, who teaches you how to wield an axe, her scarred hands cradling yours as she guides you through the motions.

johanna mason, who tends a nasty gash on your arm after your attempt at wielding said axe.

johanna mason, who scolds you for attempting to use her axe and mocks your 'stupidity', as if she hadn't been totally terrified just seconds earlier.

johanna mason, who's the black cat to your golden retriever.

johanna mason, who lets you call her by all the cheesy nicknames you wish—nicknames that she would rather die than hear come from anyone else's mouth. johanna mason, who feigns disapproval of such affectionate names, but you can see the slight upturn of her lips whenever you address her by one.

johanna mason, who is constantly afraid of you leaving her, due to her snappy and impatient personality that she uses as a defense mechanism to cover up the vulnerability and trauma that lies underneath. johanna mason, who has never let you know about her insecurities, but maybe she'll let it slip as the years go by.

johanna mason, who's a total winter bug and immediately clings to you the second the temperature drops. latching onto your leg and gazing up at you with red, puffy eyes and a runny nose as she suffers through the flu, begging for you to stay with her when you try to go brew her some tea.

johanna mason, who smiles a lot more when you're around. and not her usual cynical 'i'm lowkey judging you' smile, but a quirk-lipped smirk that appears every time you enter the room.

johanna mason, who wakes up thrashing and trembling in the middle of the night, as the nightmares of her time in the capitol continue to haunt her even after she escaped. she either clings onto you for dear life, needing to feel your touch, or pushes you away completely, struggling to come to grips with her reality.

johanna mason, who holds you firmly against her when you both go back to sleep, her eyes unblinking for the first few hours because she needs the reassurance that she isn't dreaming and that you won't leave her.

johanna mason, who whispers to you in your sleep, telling you how much you mean to her because there's no way she can be this soft when you're awake.

in conclusion, johanna mason. that's it.

©heartss4val — do not steal, edit, or repost my works. plagiarism is prohibited.

#johanna mason #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason fanfic #johanna mason x yn #johanna mason x y/n #johanna mason x you #johanna imagine #johanna oneshot #johanna fanfic #johanna x reader #johanna x yn #johanna x y/n #johanna x you #thg #the hunger games #fluff #catching fire #johanna mason imagine

[nebulablakemurphy]

Moves & Countermoves (Part 13)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing. Trigger warning: discussions of trauma surrounding ‘desirable victors’ and mentions of sex.

Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve

The tribute parade is a glimmer of hope after a losing streak. Capitol citizens screaming and chanting for Katniss as the chariots are drawn out for display. Even the elites are vying to sponsor the star crossed lovers, who saved their mentors and the sweet little baby in Y/N’s womb.

There is no waving or smiling this year, at Cinna’s request.

“Way to make friends out there, you two.” Haymitch waves over Peeta and Katniss once they dismount the carriage.

“Well, we learned from the best,” Katniss shoots back.

“I want to introduce you to some special friends of mine, this is Chaff and Seeder.”

Seeder smiles in acknowledgment.

While Chaff closes the distance between them, giving Katniss a kiss on each cheek; then pulling away in a fit of laughter.

She is caught off guard, dismay painted across her features.

“He’s very friendly.” Haymitch chuckles, clapping his friend once on the back. “But don’t invite him over, he’ll drink up all your liquor.”

Y/N approaches with Cashmere and Gloss in tow, as if Finnick introducing himself with the sugar cube, before the parade, hadn’t been enough.

“There she is,” Chaff opens his arms, “come here.”

Y/N smiles, slinking around the side to greet him, for what might be the last time.

“It’s good to see you, baby.” He tells her, in earnest. For a minute there, I thought you were coming in with us.

“Good to see you.” She pulls away, giving Seeder a quick hug. Tears welling up in her eyes, without permission.

The older woman taps her chin, when they break apart. “Don’t you cry.”

“We wanted to come introduce ourselves,” Cashmere explains. “I’m Cashmere, this is my brother, Gloss.”

“We’ve heard nothing but good things.” Peeta says, truthfully.

“Pleasure,” Gloss grins, extending a hand to Peeta, allowing his sister to mirror the gesture with Katniss. Moving in perfect synchronization, like a well oiled machine.

“And to thank you,” Cashmere squeezes Katniss’ hand.

“For what?” Katniss wonders.

“Saving my friend.”

You love her too. The realization sits heavy in Katniss’ chest.

“Alright, let’s go get some of that makeup off you.” Haymitch spares Katniss from farther floundering.

They move into the elevator, just the victors of district twelve, until a hand slips in to stop the doors from closing.

Johanna she struts in with a heavy sigh, pressing the button for the seventh floor. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you,” Katniss responds, under her breath.

“My stylist is an idiot.” Johanna tosses her bracelets to the ground. “District seven, lumber…I’d love to bury my axe in her face.” She shuffles closer to Peeta, moving her, long, red, ponytail over her shoulder. “Unzip?”

“Sure.” Peeta stammers, earning him a death glare from Katniss.

Johanna does not look away as she strips down to nothing, without preamble.

Katniss’ mouth is slightly ajar, Peeta’s lips set in a nervous smile.

“Not in front of the children,” Y/N gasps, rushing to hold a hand over both sets of eyes.

“Come on, you know you like this.” Johanna chirps, playfully.

“I remember when mine used to sit up like that.” Y/N cranes her neck to meet Johanna’s gaze, “enjoy it.”

“Cry me a river, you’re a walking wet dream.” Johanna rolls her eyes.

Haymitch is strangely silent, enjoying their banter.

Whether they are fighting or flirting, Katniss cannot tell. In any event, she’s glad when the elevator dings on the seventh floor.

“That was fun, let’s do it again sometime.” Johanna grins, quite pleased with herself as she exits.

“Johanna Mason, district seven.”

————————————————————————

“Explain to me exactly how this is going to work.” Y/N whispers, beneath the spray of the water.

Whoever is tasked with monitoring the audio from their room, in the tribute center, must think they have the highest libidos in Panem. Though they are here to exchange information, they are also in the shower, nude, at very close proximity.

“Plutarch has access to the trackers, he can override the information.” Haymitch allows his eyes to close, at the feel of familiar fingers in his hair. “Cannon goes off while the tribute is still alive. They are extracted by the crane, from the hovercraft, same as always. One by one. Ideally, Katniss and Peeta near the end, Snow will want to see their bodies for himself. By the time he realizes what’s happened, everybody is safe, underground, in thirteen.”

“What about twelve? First thing he’ll do is retaliate.”

“We have open lines of communication, we’ll be able to warn them.”

Y/N nods, in understanding. His lips are on hers then and they are no longer pretending.

————————————————————————

Keeping this secret from Katniss and Peeta is easier than Y/N anticipated. They assume she is distancing herself out of self preservation, reverting to the calculated woman they’d met on the train last year. Neither of them blame her.

They score twelves during individual assessment, painting even larger targets on their backs. And tonight, the last night before the games, they are prepping for their interviews with Caesar.

Katniss is almost certain that the master of ceremonies will ask about her volunteering. She does not regret it, even now, she would do it again in a heartbeat. No one deserves a happy ending more than you. Katniss hates that she is being laced back into Y/N’s wedding dress.

“I think you’re going to be happy with the alterations.” Cinna fluffs up the layers of fabric.

Haymitch downs his drink, drowning the vision of his sweet girl in the dress; squeezing his fingers when it hurt too much. The way she shook like a leaf beneath him, “it’s just you and me.” She is still after that, steady; allowing him to bring her pleasure she has never known.

Crying when it is finished, because he locked himself in the bathroom to vomit. Sick over what he had done to keep her safe, while she thought he was disgusted by something she’d done.

Apologizing profusely when he returns. “Haymitch, I- I was just nervous. Not because of you…I’m sorry it wasn’t, I’m sorry you didn’t like it. I’ll do better next time.”

His heart seizes, thrumming to an unbearable ache. “It’s nothing you did. Please never think that I-” Haymitch stumbles over the words. Evidence of his ‘enjoyment’ is mixed with her blood on the sheets, rolling forth a fresh wave of nausea. “Like you said, it’s not because of you. It’s everything else.” Snow and the cameras and-

Y/N knows how much he’s already given up, the deals he made for her. “I still want it to be real someday.”

Their marriage, their love story.

“You tell me when it’s real, and I’ll ask you to marry me again.” No more rushing, no more bullshit.

“Promise?”

“I promise.” Haymitch swears. I’m getting you out of here. No matter how long it takes, I’m getting you out.

They are no longer in that room, trapped beneath the mechanical whirl of the cameras. They are here, with Y/N’s arms around his waist, one hand resting over his heart. Holding him where it hurts, because she understands him better at thirty than she could at nineteen. This dress is a prison, he hopes the girl on fire lights it up.

“These victors are angry, Katniss. They’ll say anything to try and stop the games, I suggest you do the same.”

When it is her turn to be interviewed, the audience is enamored at the sight.

“Welcome, Katniss Everdeen!” Caesar is humming with excitement. “Look at you, absolutely stunning.”

“Don’t go crying on me now, Caesar.” Katniss retorts.

“Oh, you know I can’t help it.”

“You know I wouldn’t believe you even if you did.”

“Ah ha ha, the girl on fire, so cheeky. I love it. Now, Katniss…on a more serious note, we’re all here a little disappointed, well more than a little, that a certain wedding will not be taking place.” Caesar laments, sharing his sorrow with the nation. “But here you are, in Y/N’s dress, the dress you would have worn. How do you think she feels, seeing you on stage tonight?”

“I hope that…” Katniss exhales. “I hope that she’s proud of me.” She searches beyond the blinding stage lights for Y/N, finding her in the sea of faces. She looks at Katniss the same way she always has, with love, sadness; something more. Perhaps it is pride.

“Awww.”

“I know she is,” Caesar nods. “It has been so beautiful to watch your story, to see this family you found. How you volunteered, first for your little sister and then to save your mentor. You are incredible. Would you do us the honor?”

The twirling.

Katniss finds Cinna, beside Y/N and Haymitch, catching his eye. He gives the go ahead and she begins to turn. The skirt of her dress igniting into flames, leaving a black and gray design in its wake. As fire reaches the top, it has transformed completely. Feathers at her shoulders spread with her arms. Wings.

The crowd rises from their seats, her mentors and stylist among them. Cinna has an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, “for both of you.”

“Thank you,” she leans into him.

“It’s like….it’s like a-a bird! Like a-” Caesar racks his brain.

“Like a mockingjay,” Katniss finishes for him.

“Your stylist has certainly outdone himself. Cinna, take a bow.” Caesar turns the camera’s focus to the audience.

Cinna kisses his hand and holds it up, sending all his love to Katniss. When the applause has died down, she joins the other tributes, on the risers near the back of the stage.

Peeta is last, in a pristine white suit, designed to match his wife-to-be.

“So, Peeta, the wedding.” Caesar gets right down to business. “The marriage, never to be.”

“Actually, we got married. In secret.” Peeta says, captivating the crowd to a stunned silence.

“A secret wedding? Tell us more.”

“We want our love to be eternal, Katniss and I. We’ve been luckier than most and I wouldn’t have any regrets at all if-” Peeta breaks off. “If it weren’t…”

“If it weren’t for what, Peeta?” Caesar is all but holding his breath. “What?”

“If it weren’t for the baby.”

Once again viewers are out of their seats.

“Baby!?!”

“Tell us more.”

“Well we knew that Y/N would be too far along and we all agreed that Katniss would have a better chance.” Peeta explains.

“Stop the games!” The cry heard around the Capitol, is resurgent and in full force. The victors of district twelve have not one baby at stake, but two.

“Alright now, this is news to all of us.” Caesar reminds the audience.

Their outrage echoes off the walls. “Stop the games!”

“We’re going to find out what we do about this.” Caesars attempts to stop the riot. He leans in to Peeta, asking him to go stand with the others. “It’s a great night.”

Peeta trots up the stairs to Katniss, embracing when they meet.

“Oh, my heart.” The woman behind Y/N leans over the seat. “That’s why you tried to stop her from volunteering. Because of the baby.”

Y/N nods, sniffling for effect. “I just can’t stop thinking about the babies.”

“Don’t worry, President Snow is a good man. He’ll get this figured out.” She rubs at her back.

The victors joining hands only serves to further rally the crowd. Together they watch as the lights cut off. Leaving them all in darkness.

————————————————————————

The deliberation is long, or Snow makes it out to be. Y/N, Haymitch and Effie wait, impatiently, on the bench with the other mentors. It was a good show, with a response better than they could’ve asked for. But in the end, the games are still on.

This is more or less the outcome Peeta and Katniss were expecting. Somehow that doesn’t make it any easier to deliver the news.

Haymitch has to hand it to Peeta, “baby bomb was a stroke of genius. Unfortunately, the games are still on.”

The room is still.

“This is goodbye for now.”

“Presents,” Effie reminds them, their tokens. “Bracelets for you two.”

Y/N opens her box, revealing a slightly thinner version of the bangle her husband’s been gifted.

“And for Peeta, the medallion we talked about.”

“Thank you, Effie.” Peeta hugs her, in parting.

This year is different. Mentors will not be seeing tributes to the hovercraft, only stylists. Presumably for the districts that only had two victors to begin with.

“Thank you, Y/N.” The boy finds her next and she squishes him to her properly.

“You’re welcome,” she sighs. Stay safe.

When it is Katniss’ turn to say goodbye, the girl on fire is struck by the realization that she cannot. Instead she buries her face in the woman’s shoulder.

“You can do this, Katniss.” Y/N passes a hand over her hair, “I believe in you.”

Katniss nods, “thank you.”

The five of them remain together for a while. Katniss and Peeta splinter off first, sending them all in different directions. Effie to her room, Y/N and Haymitch to opposite floors of the tribute center.

Y/N reaches the last level before ground. Cashmere is waiting, wringing her hands. “We almost did it,” stopped the games.

“This isn’t over yet,” Y/N reminds her. “I have something for you.”

Cashmere sighs, the rebel plan is a wild one and there’s no guarantee it will work in time.

Y/N turns over the gold bangle, “Katniss knows it’s mine. As long as she sees it, she’ll honor the alliance.”

“I’ll do what I can to keep her alive…the boy too.” Cashmere assures her.

“Keep you alive too, while you’re at it.” Please.

The blonde gives her a sad smile, “you know me.”

Part 14

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k @magical-spit @greaser9902 @jessicamellarky @yourebuckingkiddingme @smuha2004 @sendhelplease @ninimackbrews @wittiestrain184 @r1dd1kulus @erenluvr69 @helpimhyperfixating @jackierose902109

#the hunger games fanfiction #thg haymitch #the hunger games #haymitch x reader #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch abernathy fanfic #haymitch fanfic #haymitch abernathy x y/n #haymitch abernathy #haymitch x y/n #haymitch abernathy x you #haymitch abernathy x yn #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #johanna mason

[toomanyfandomsimfanvergent]

Finnick Odair x Reader

Finnick starts asking for her. Y/N.

"Y/N, Peeta, Enorbia, Annie, Johanna, they didn't make it out. We don't know what happened to them," Plutarch informs.

Finnick leaves for his room. She's gone. His love. Losing her isn't what hurts, not knowing where she is. That's what hurts

She could be being tortured by the capitol. She could be dead. He hated it, but he wished she was the later.

"I'm sorry," he says to her. Hd knows she can't hear him, but he has to try.

**

"I don't know anything," you yell as the white cell fills with water. That was a lie.

You gasp for air as the water comes in waves, quickly reaching the ceiling, and draining.

"Y/N," you hear Johanna yell.

"Johanna, what's with this fucking water," you reply.

Her reply was cut off as thousands of volts of electricity shot through their bodies.

It was just them, there. Being electeocuted.

The first wave of electricity stops. You writhe on the floor, still shaking and gasping for breath.

You can hear Johanna panting, before you manage to stay anything more screams echo throughout the cells. Yours and hers.

The electric shocks are back.

This continues for hours. By time they finish, neither one of you can stay conscious.

**

All Finnick can hold is that Y/N, his Y/N is still safe.

He cries himself to sleep that night, And many others.

He never does get used to the feeling of an empty bed.

One day, there is a other capitol announcement.

Peeta and Y/N sit on some chairs as they speak.

"Hello Katniss. People are dying. If you wish to save lives, you will help us a cease fire," Peeta explains.

That's not what hurts Finnick. Y/N is.

"Hey, Finny. Why haven't you come yet? Are you to busy with one of your new lovers? If you care you will end the war. Please, Finnick," Y/N says.

Finnick is drug back from all T.V.'s.

He starts crying the second he is alone. She thinks he left her.

He did.

Within a few weeks, they are back.

The screaming and chaos is, well chaotic.

"She's bleeding out,"

"Get me Finnick,"

"Knock her out,"

Finnick rushes down the hall and stops. He sees you.

Your radiant smile is non existent. It's replaced by a fake, horrible one.

You are bruised, have many cuts, partially bandaged as they hook you up to an IV.

Finnick runs and hugs you careful not to upset any injuries.

"Finny," you sigh tears in your eyes.

"Yn, I'm so sorry, I love you. Never leave me again," he softly kisses her. After 6 long weeks . He can kiss her. He can have her. Hold her. Love her.

"You didn't have a choose finnick," you reply resting your forehead on his, "I love you, to,"

#finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick smut #the hunger games #thg #katniss x finnick #finnick x you #finnick x y/n #finnick odair x reader

[smokeprincess24]

Hey could you make a Morpheus x reader story where yn finds out she's pregnant whit his child but she doesn't want the baby so she leaves and dissapears so he makes it his mission to find her..😅ik it's long but it would be an honor!

At first I was going to decline the question because I haven't done anything written for a fandom since 2014-5 and what I've done as a sandman has been more phrases and loose ideas than anything else, besides that when I read it the first few times I didn't know how or what where to direct the idea but then I said fuck it I'll do it with the OC that I have in mind and its story (I'm more of creating my character with a back story and everything but never taking it to "paper")

So here's a warning 1 (and the most important) I don't speak English I can read and listen to it but I'm not that good at writing it so here I am using google translator for this (if there's something wrong let me know so I can edit it, sometimes the translator It is not so exact and although I check that if it is well written, I may miss some errors)

2. for convenience because I'm not so good at writing (not even in my own language -Spanish-) this will be a headcanon (I think it can be considered like this) but very detailed

so here goes nothing

(ps: I always give my OCs the same name but for the convenience of the sandman community I will refer to the character as her or y/n)

•Everything was going well, she had an boyfriend, they already had a year of relationship (and almost two since she found him in the basement)

•Johanna once jokingly told her that she was going to end up with a hot emo boyfriend who looks like he pouts 24/7 (and it would probably end badly), she definitely wasn't wrong. Luckily having a hot emo boyfriend means tons of hot time.

•Y/n usually alternated the days between The Dreaming and her apartment

•Morpheus was simply attached to her, always seeking her touch, from holding her hand to laying her down and fucking her on one of the library tables, but he was always close to her in his free time, it was as if they were in a honey moon phase (for a whole year)

•But then it started

•Y/n do not tend to get sick (or stay sick for a long time) thanks to their ancestry, she also hates vomiting and basically doing so is the peak of a possible illness.

•One day she began to feel tired, aching all over her body and one morning she woke up quickly from a dream to run to the bathroom

•Out of the corner of his eye she could see Matthew at er window, possibly his abrupt exit from The Dreaming caused Morpheus to send to look how she was

she was in bed all day but she thought they were just seasonal illnesses

•Oh boy, they weren't

•Fortunately the days passed and Y/N was able to recover even feeling nauseated from time to time (convincing herself that it was because she hadn't eaten much because she was sick)

• It wasn't until a week later that his roommate and best friend commented (joking) that it was a good thing she had taken a break from her boyfriend, because if they kept fucking like that she was going to end up pregnant.

•At first Y/N just laughed and let it go, until she remembered that she had been weeks without her period, this definitely freaked her out

•She waited until she was alone in her apartment to go to the pharmacy so she could get a test, a simple piss on a stick, a negative and everything ended, probably she was just thinking to much about it and really was nothing

•Over the years, she'd learned that the universe's favorite game was to contradict her and make things difficult, and this time the universe had given her the big middle finger.

•A bit of a panic attack here, okay? a fucking baby is a big responsibility for 18-20(ish) year olds

•Yep she was definitely screwed

•She could only think of Johanna when she had told at the beginning of her adolescence how she should have to scare the boys (emos and edgys) away from her, or else she would end up "knock up"

•Yeah she was definitely fuck up (and not in a good way)

ok here is the first part, I have several things planned for the morpheus part but I needed to cut it and upload this to know if (I) this had a future or what

ps: I accept suggestions for a title

ps2: you can make requests and I can try to write something, both within the sandman universe with or without my OC

#sandman x reader #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless #the sandman #why i do this to myself #the dreaming #matthew the sandman

[your-averagewriter]

The Quarter Quell

Summary: (y/n) won the 63rd Hunger Games, almost twelve years ago. She won at the age of twelve making her the youngest victor ever. She's reaped for the Quarter Quell and has to leave her brother, Max, behind in District 4. Finnick and (y/n) are in an established relationship at the start of the Games. (the reader is female in this).

Includes: Violence, things involved in the Hunger Games books/movies, saying god in a non-religious way.

Word count: 2.2K

“This entire arena seems to be laid out like a clock with a new threat every hour, but they stay only within their wedge.” We walk along the line of rocks heading towards the island. We’re going to get more weapons and supplies seeing as I’ve lost all of mine and everyone seems to be running low. “It all starts with the lightning. Then the blood rain,” I was caught in that, not an enjoyable experience to say the least. “Fog, monkeys. That’s the first four hours. At 10:00, that big wave hits from over there.” She points to where I assume the wave came from.

“Wiress, you’re a genius.” Finnick who was just in front of me speeds up and walks past her.

“Look, the tail points to twelve.” Peeta points out with his machete.

“That’s where the lightning strikes at noon and midnight.” I chime in.

“Strikes where?” Beetee questions looking towards me and Katniss points it out.

“That big tree.”

“Good.” He replies. I’d be worried about him if he wasn’t my friend.

I jog straight past Finnick who stands holding his trident and I look around the Cornucopia. Most of the swords have been taken assumably by the careers. I examine the sets of knives testing them out and eventually picking a set. I move on further into the structure towards the non-weapon supplies. There’s backpacks and flasks and a bag of apples. I grab the bag of apples and rip it open, I take one for myself.

“Hey Finn, heads up.” I throw an apple towards him which he catches with a smirk before biting into it. “Jo!” I shout to her as she’s further away. She turns to me and I signal to the bag in my hand, she nods and I chuck one at her. She catches and bites into it. I place the bag on the floor making a mental note of it’s position before biting into the apple. It tastes nice, especially compared to the taste of blood. As I eat the apple I look around at the other weapons, spears, axes. I search around for better weapons but the best I find is a mace. I guess others took the better weapons.

I pick it up and smirk, it’s actually a very good mace, good weight and length good for bludgeoning and throwing I think to myself before returning back to the group. I pick up the bag with a few apples left and bring it with me. I return to Wiress still chanting nursery rhymes by the edge and everyone just standing around. But Peeta crouches down in the sand, he pulls out his machete and starts drawing in the black sand.

“So 12:00 to 1:00, lightning. Then 1:00 to 2:00 is blood. Then fog and then monkeys.”

“Then 10:00 to 11:00, the wave. What about everything else? Did you guys see anything?”

I shake my head as Wiress’s singing echoes through my head.

“Nothing but blood,” Johanna says. She was in the blood rain as well but we weren’t together.

“It doesn’t matter,” Peeta says. “As long as we steer clear of whichever sector is active, we’ll be safe.” I scoff.

“Yeah, relatively speaking,” Finnick says the obvious.

Then Wiress gasps loudly, everyone turns to her and Gloss pulls a knife out of her chest. The canon goes off and instantly Katniss shoots him in his chest, he falls and another cannon goes off. Cashmere jumps out of the water behind him with a knife. I push Katniss to the floor, out of the way and I throw the mace at her. Finnick yells as he ‘spars’ with Brutus. Finnick pushes with a trident whilst Brutus mimics him with a spear. I think her name is Enobaria. She runs around the corner yelling and tries to throw a knife at Finnick but she narrowly misses. I leap over the rocks and I chase her picking up my mace along the way. She runs back to where she came from and I follow close behind her then Brutus follows behind me. She runs along the line of rocks and I throw a couple of knives at her, one falls into the water whilst the other is lodged into her shoulder.

I glance over my shoulder and see that Brutus isn’t that far behind me, I speed up but decide that I'd be at a disadvantage chasing her so I dive into the water.

“(y/n)!” I hear Finnick’s distorted shouting under the water.

Gripping my mace and the bag of apples I swim, still submerged, towards the island but suddenly larger waves crash over me.

I swim up to get a breath and I watch as the island spins. The waves around it thrash and blind my vision, I try to swim backwards away from the island. I can hear them screaming, I think it’s Johanna, I swim away but the tides aren’t working like normal tides, it’s pulling me in more than I’m pushing away. It’s pulling me down, I take a quick breath before being dragged down.

Suddenly another figure is thrown into the water on top of me, I grunt internally as the force is indescribable. I’m sent further underwater now not even controlling my swimming, I’m spinning around being taken with the tides along with the other person. The tides get weaker but I can feel my consciousness leaving me, my breath shortening. I feel the water becoming calmer again but my body goes limp. I can hear people shouting my name but I can’t even open my eyes. I finally feel myself losing the battle with consciousness but as I do I feel a pair of arms wrap around my chest and I’m filled with more hope for my life.

I’m pulled out of the water but the shouts still sound distorted. I feel a pair of lips on mine, the feeling of warmth blessing my cold skin. I can feel the air being forced into my lungs and finally, I have the strength to breathe. I spit out some water before gasping at the overwhelming excess of oxygen. I spit out a lot of water, still laying on the floor. My eyes flutter open and I’m met with Finnick looking down at me, crouching next to me looking quite worried.

“(y/n). (y/n), thank god.” He says before sitting back on his heels. He tilts his head back breathing heavily, relieved I assume. He looks back down to me and kisses me. It’s hard and desperate almost, I can feel his worry dissipating slightly. It’s a sloppy kiss but what else could you expect it’s quick. It stops as quickly as it started. He smiles down at me.

“Can you stand?” I notice that almost everyone else is standing around me. I nod.

I sit up and he offers me his hand. I take it and stand up properly.

“7/10, do not recommend drowning.” I say slightly joking.

“Let’s just get what we need and get off this bloody island.” Johanna says scornfully. I give her a joking thumbs up before realising I don’t have my mace and that it has likely sunk. I sigh before walking over to the edge. I look over and see the glint of metal from the bottom of the sea. I roll my eyes before walking back over to the Cornucopia and grabbing a harvest knife left on one of the boxes. I walk back over to Finnick and the others, they’ve sorted themselves out.

We walk back over to the rock lines and walk back towards the beach. The island is a nightmare just like the jungle. We all sit down on the sand and I follow suit standing by a tree. Everyone talks about what to do now. Johanna suggests we hunt them down and Finnick says that they won’t attack again

A voice suddenly comes from the jungle, someone screaming.

“Katniss! Katniss, help me!” It’s a young girl’s voice, I assume it's her sister’s.

“Prim! Prim!” She bolts into the jungle and I’m quick to follow her. I chase her as she runs in front of me. I’m fast, not amazingly strong, but I’m really fast.

“Katniss! No! Katniss” I yell but she keeps running, under vines over logs. She sprints through the jungles and towards the voice, both of them still yelling out but ‘Prim’s’ voice doesn’t react to Katniss at all.

Finally she stops running and looks around, she pulls out her bow and shoots something above her. The screaming stops and a bird falls to the floor.

“(y/n)! (y/n) help me!” Max’s voice.

“Max?” I yell back questioning the voice looking for him.

“(y/n).” Katniss says standing in front of me. I start to run towards his voice as he yells again. “No! It’s not him!” She tries to warn me as I yell out his name and run towards it jumping over the plants. He screams out in pain.

“Max!” His voice is shrill and hoarse. I chase the voice out into a more open section of the arena and I stop looking around for him.

“(y/n)! It’s not him!” Katniss yells at me from behind me grabbing my shoulder. “It’s just a jabberjay, it’s not him!” She says with her hair slicked to her forehead.

“Well, how’d you think they got that sound?” I ask her as if it’s obvious. “Jabberjays copy.” I point out and her face contorts with fear as another unfamiliar voice shouts.

“Gale.” She mumbles as he shouts again. I look around for where it’s coming from and a load of birds fly in.

The mutts scream in Max’s voice, they yell out and scream in pain. Then it’s Finnick’s voice, he yells and his voice sounds twisted like he’s being tortured. The screams echo through my head, reverberating as I run away from the flock of mutts. I place my hand on Katniss’s shoulder and lead her away with me, we duck as more birds fly in screaming and pecking at us.

“Come on! Come on Katniss!” I shout at her and she runs ahead of me. The crowd of birds grows and grows until even the screams of this Gale make me feel distressed. We run through the jungle towards the beach and away from the mutts as quickly as we can but they stay merely a metre away at all times. I duck again as the mutts swoop down to pull at my hair and clothes pecking at my skin.

Katniss runs ahead as I try to cover my ears blocking out the screams but they’re so loud. I look up from the ground and the others are near us, on the other side of some invisible wall.

“Katniss stop!” I yell as she runs into the wall but my voice is lost in the mutts’ screams. She hits the wall hard and I slump down the side of it away from her. Finnick’s banging on the wall on the other side, his mouth is moving but I can’t hear him. I bang the wall aggressively as tears start to fall from my eyes. The screams, cries and pecking from the mutts finally breaking through. I scream out to Max and to Finnick even though I can see him in front of me. His face is painted with worry and mine is coated in tears and blood. I finally give up on banging the wall and revert back to covering my ears. I lean against the invisible wall and thread my hands into my hair pulling rough but covering my ears as best I can. It works to an extent but within a minute my nails are digging into my scalp and soon after I’m drawing blood. It trickles down the side of my face along with the tears.

“Max.” I whisper. “Max. Max.” I can imagine him watching the Games right now at his school watching me bent over suffering. “Max.” I cry out.

I remain crouched on the floor screaming and clawing at my ears until the hours up. I yell and scream and I cry. Every negative emotion is portrayed on my face at different moments during the hour.

As soon as the hour is up I hear Finnick’s voice. He calls out my name and I hear a small thump as he falls (the wall disappearing). He quickly gets up and runs towards me kneeling next to me. He wraps his arms around me as the tears flow uncontrollably down my face and I shiver.

“Max!” I yell out extremely concerned for his safety. “Max! Where is he?”

“No, he’s fine. He’s fine, love.” Finnick says, rubbing my shoulder as I look up at him, eyes wide. “It’s not real. It’s not real.” He reassures me slowly. “They wouldn’t hurt your brother, the Capitol loves him.”

“The whole country loves your brother.” Johanna points out and my head whips up towards her. “Both of your siblings, really. If they tortured them or did anything to them, forget the districts, there would be riots in the damn Capitol.” Johanna smirks at Katniss and I look back to Finnick. I stroke his face frantically looking into his eyes.

“You’re okay. You’re okay.” I say to myself trying to reassure myself. He places his hands on top of mine with a hint of a smile. Johanna rants to no one in particular but I can’t hear her, all I can do is look at Finnick. “You’re alive.” I say quietly.

I hope you enjoyed reading!

My tumblr page is a bit of a mess at the moment, I love so many franchises and fandoms and I have so many ideas to write. Eventually, I'll make a masterlist to order everything.

You can comment any requests or franchises you'd like me to write for, I'd love to hear your ideas!

#finnick x reader #finnick x y/n #x yn #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #finnick odair #catching fire #mockingjay #primrose everdeen #peeta mellark #hunger games #katniss everdeen #the hunger games #johanna mason #hunger games x yn #hunger games x reader

[fandom-puff]

Longing

Pairing: Tywin Lannister x reader

Requested by: @saintlike78 ‘Babes 👀 if you’re feeling it, then I’m craving some good fluffy smut with Tywin Lannister… maybe him realizing that his feelings for the reader is more than just a political marriage, yk’

This is my first thing I’ve written in 2022!! I tried writing it in a third person pov rather than the 2nd, so lmk if you prefer this person :)

Warnings: political marriage/arranged marriage, older man x younger woman, soft smut, unprotected sex

Sighing, Tywin shuffled the reams of parchment on his desk, filing the papers filled with neat columns of sums and budgets into his desk drawer for tomorrow. He had been trying to get the finances of Westeros in check for weeks, but every time he thought he had reached a solution, his reckless grandson had made another outlandish purchase, or another unnecessary indulgence.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, swiping his hand over his face in a rare but private demonstration of the frustration that bubbled constantly within him. A look over his shoulder confirmed the late hour; from the window he could see that most of the windows in the Red Keep, and further into Kings’ Landing, were darkened, the majority of people likely fast asleep.

With yet another deep sigh, he lit another candle and drained his goblet of wine in three gulps. He was most definitely beyond stressed; his muscles were tight and thrumming for action that was never going to come; his mood was low and irritable, having little patience for everyone; worst of all, his brilliantly sharp mind was muddled, clouded with conflicting images of his first and second wife.

His true love Johanna always had a place in the back of his mind, and if he believed in such superstitious drivel, he’d be certain she was the one watching over him, not the Seven. But she was gone, and all he had now was his second wife. YN was a woman grown, yes, but tywin had over twenty years on her. He married her out of necessity, refusing to allow his title and land to be passed on to the Imp, and though almost a full year had passed without any success, he found himself wanting her in his bed, to feel her hands grasp at his arms and back, her sweet voice to call his name, her eyes to stare at him, all hazed from the pleasure he knew only he could bring her. But what was more concerning to him was his desire for her outside of the bedchamber. He wanted her close by, he needed to ensure her safety. At first he thought he wanted to keep her safe in case she was with child, but even as her moon blood came each month he found himself enquiring about her health and well-being, ensuring she was guarded by someone he trusted and not one of his daughter’s pawns.

Put simply, he longed for her, not as a man longs for a woman, but as a husband longs for his lady wife, for her touch, her presence, her adoration…

For her love.

***

“YN,” his voice was low, not quite a whisper, rumbling deep in his chest as he attempted to rouse her from her sleep. As the young woman stirred, he paused, admiring her in the pale moonlight, smiling gently as he saw a lock of hair escaped from her plait, fluttering up and down with each of her deep breaths.

Gently, he tucked the lock of hair behind her ear, keeping his hand resting gently on her cheek, his knuckles gently stroking her face, fingertips tickled by her hair. As her eyes slowly opened, he shushed her gently, easing her panic at being woken in the middle of the night by a shadowed figure stood in her bedchamber.

“Why’re y’here?” She murmured, voice raspy and barely more than a mumble, yet he caught every garbled syllable.

“I found myself wanting you, wife,” he said, and even in her sleepy state, he could feel the heat rising to her cheeks as her eyes opened ever more widely.

“My Lord,” she whispered, making to sit up. “I… there are better times, my Lord… for my fertility-“

But Tywin shushed her again. “I did not come here tonight with the intention of putting an heir in your belly,” he told her, watching as her eyebrows tugged into a small (and admittedly adorable) frown of confusion.

“Then why else would you come here, my Lord? You could have summoned me earlier this evening if… but… you said you weren’t here for that…” Tywin smiled gently as she got herself tangled in circles, her thoughts not quite keeping up with her mouth as she fought to shake off the rest of her sleep.

“I came here tonight because you are my lady wife,” he told her, twirling the mischievous lock of hair around his fingers. “And I am your lord husband,” she nodded along slowly. “And yet you were fast asleep here, far away from the tower of the Hand,”

“I thought… we were married for political reasons, my Lord,” she murmured, yet her head nuzzled subconsciously into the hand petting her hair.

“We were,” he murmured, helping her to sit up, but still stroking her hair, freeing more and more of it from her loose braid. “And yet I find myself longing for you, Lady Lannister,” his sharp green eyes roved over her face, on the lookout for any twitch that would expose her emotions. Instead she leaned forward, pressing her lips to his in a firm kiss, her palms resting on the tops of his thighs.

“It’s good that you’ve been longing for me,” she whispered. “Because I’ve been pining after you since our wedding night…”

“Is that so?” His voice had a playful lilt as he teased, delighting in how flustered his inexperienced wife got.

“Mmhmm,” she nodded. “I’ve wanted nothing more than for you to treat me as your wife- your true wife, not just as a payment for some political pact. For you to… to take me as often as you like, and for me to provide you with many children, all the carry on your legacy… for you to… to…”

“Say it,” he murmured, already laying her back, fitting seamlessly between her parted thighs.

“For you to love me,” she whispered, her wide eyes locked with his as he hitched her nightdress up over her hips, smiling as she tugged the garment to rest of the way off, baring her breasts to him as she arched her back.

Tywin almost groaned aloud, his large hands already holding onto her thighs, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure as to have her squirming beneath him. “I love you,” he murmured, tossing his own shirt and undershirt across the room. “So long as you reciprocate,”

“I do,” she whimpered, watching as his chest flexed with the movement of undressing, her palms stroking flat over his pectoral muscles, the hardness of them making her shiver and grasp onto his shoulders. “Please, my Lord, please, Tywin, I’m yours entirely,”

That was all Tywin needed to loosen his breeches and take his cock out, stroking it to full hardness with one hand, his other teasing her swelling clit with his thumb until she was sufficiently relaxed and wet and desperate for him, before slowly pushing into her, the two of them releasing low groans at the addictive sensations of fullness and stretching and warmth and connection.

When she had comfortably adjusted to him, his hips began to rock, undulating against hers in a way that was more of a grinding motion, their bodies pressed flush against one another as each stroke hit her deepest pleasure points, making her cling onto his body as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Tywin too was overwhelmed with pleasure, both physical and emotional, at the connection of their bodies, so unlike the usual frenzied fucking with the only hope being conception rather than pleasure.

Despite her face being buried in the crook of his neck, he could feel her coming closer and closer to the edge, unable to control the spasming of her body and her cunt as he guided her towards her pleasure, holding her thighs wide apart in order to stimulate her deepest points, their close position enabling him to keep her throbbing clitoris stimulated.

As she teetered on the edge, he grunted, guiding her head up to kiss her, his mouth working hers into a passionate, messy kiss, his tongue trailing over her lips and mouth. Feeling the first waves of her orgasm as her cunt clenched, he moaned into her mouth, pulling away to watch her face contort in bliss before his own release approaching. With several more thrusts he was toppling over the edge, pounding into her as he groaned her name- her given name.

Spent, panting and relaxed, the two of them tumbled onto her bed, trying to tug the twisted blankets over them both, YN huddling close to her husband’s warm chest.

“I meant it, y’know,” she whispered after a while, her head resting on his chest as he drew swirling patterns on her back with lazy hands. “That I love you, and want you to love me back,”

“I know you did, little one,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “And I meant it too. I think I am quite in love with you, Lady Lannister,”

“And I, you, Lord Lannister,” she smiled up at him, eyelids already heavy thanks you interrupted sleep and exhausting activity.

“Sleep, sweetheart,” of course Tywin noticed. “I shouldn’t have woken you, you’ll be tired on the morrow,”

“Fine by me,” she mumbled, although she was already drifting off. “Perhaps we could hide away in bed all day long…”

“That sounds marvellous,” he smiled, now rubbing her back to soothe her back to her deep sleep, and together they drifted off to sleep, the two of them completely serene for the first time since their marriage was finalised.

Tags: @sociallyawkward-princess @lazyotakujen @janelongxox @honeyofthegods @lxoxtxtxi @fullmoonshadowwrites @nyxrae

#tywin lannister imagine #tywin lannister smut #game of thrones one shot #game of thrones smut #Tywin Lannister x reader #tywin lannister x you #game of thrones fic

[plaidstiel-wormstache]

Finding Home

This is for Becka @beckawinchester and Johanna’s @boredoutofmymindwriting Challenge ... hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it. Prompt - “He knew that he was home when her lips touched his.” Song - Free Fallin’ by John Mayer Word Count - 2511 Characters - Jensen x Reader, Jason Manns, Rob, Rich and so on... Warnings - none I hope; fluff, hints at smut, more fluff Summary - It’s nice when you find someone you’re so at home with, so comfortable with, but can still surprise. A/N - Let’s pretend Daneel is living her happily-ever-after with someone else. Thank you to the wonderful @avasmommy224 for beta-ing! And a shout out to @whispersandwhiskerburn just for putting up with me!

He’s a good boy, loves his mama, loves Jesus and America too. He’s a good boy, crazy ‘bout Elvis, loves horses and his girlfriend too. YN had her headphones in and was singing away to her favourite song as she scrubbed the kitchen sink. She’d managed to clean the whole house. Jensen would think it was because he was arriving home, not that her nerves were getting the best of her.

It’s a long day living in Reseda, there’s a freeway runnin’ through the yard. I’m a bad girl ‘cause I don’t even miss him, I’m a bad girl for breaking his heart. Jensen pulled the suitcase from the trunk and wheeled it to the door, finding it was unlocked, as always if she was home. No matter how many times he begged her to lock it, she seemed to always forget. And I’m free, free fallin’, fallin’. And I’m free, free fallin’, fallin’. He placed his case inside the door and followed her voice, she was singing. He loved to hear her sing. He wished she’d come and record for Jason, he’d even suggested a duet, but she wouldn’t, she’d get nervous just at the mention. She tried to record something for him once, but her anxiety took over and she almost threw up. Jensen leaned against the doorway and watched her as she washed out the sink of bleach she’d been scrubbing with. All the vampires walkin’ through the valley, they move western down Ventura boulevard. And all the bad boys standing in the shadows, and the good girls are home with broken hearts. He smiled as she wiped at her face with her shoulder and arm, catching a glimpse of him in her peripheral. She jumped, spinning. She pushed the inside of her wrist to her chest and shed the glove from her other hand, ripping out an earphone. “Baby!” She squealed. “Did I scare you?” He asked, the slight chuckle from knowing he had, only built when she shoved him in the chest. “Why didn’t you say something?” She asked, finally free of the other glove and headphone, she pulled him back to her by twirling a finger in the hem of his shirt. She slid her fingers over his chest, snaking her hands over his shoulders and around his neck. And just like a practised routine, Jensen bent to meet her awaiting lips with his, wrapping his hands under her thighs and lifting her with ease, wrapping her legs around his waist. “How long are you back for?” She asked, leaning away from his lips, brushing his nose with hers. “Tonight, conventions start tomorrow.” He breathed, it was a tough life, coming and going. She had her job, friends, and life here and he was constantly on the road. But every time he was home, or she came to visit, they spent every second together, they’d even bought this house together. But all this time apart meant that YN could get up to mischief, she’d known he was starting the convention circuit now, knew he was more than a little annoyed that he only had one night with her. So, with Jason’s help, she recorded a demo of his favourite song. With Rob and Rich’s help, she was joining the convention. Little did Jensen know, she’d taken the next five months off, partly for him, partly for the expansion of her company into Vancouver. And with more help from friends, she had a little something up her sleeve, if only the butterflies and the doubt would ebb long enough. “So we better make the most of it.” She breathed against him, he smiled and fit their lips back together, like the puzzle pieces they were.

“YNN, let…” Jensen chuckled as he tried to gently pry your fingers open from where they’d locked behind his neck. “No. They have you for long enough.” She pouted into the crook of his neck. “You’re stronger than I remember.” Jensen said, resting for a moment, awkwardly across the top of your body on the bed, his feet still planted to the floor. “Please don’t go.” She whispered against his collarbone, relinquishing her grip. He held himself up, hovering over her, searching her eyes. “Need me to stay?” He asked, she could see how serious the question was. She sighed and reached up, letting her lips linger against his till her muscles ached and her neck threatened to seize up. “They need you. I want you.” She murmured against his lips, pecking them one last time. “I love you.” He said, pushing his lips against her forehead before he stood up. He cupped her cheek with his hand, rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone as he memorised the look of her, naked under his gaze, warm and blushing for him. She turned her head into his palm, holding his hand in place as she planted a kiss in the center, then folded his fingers around it. “Hold on to it for me.” She made him promise and he nodded. “Now, Mr. Ackles, go or else you’ll be late.” She warned, kicking at his bottom as he walked around the bed. He stopped at the door and looked back at her, she raised an eyebrow at him, they both chuckled after a moment of silence and he turned, shaking his head. She got up and watched him from the window, still naked as he looked up while climbing into the car, he smiled and winked. It didn’t go unnoticed that he still had his fist clenched around her kiss.

“Hey Rob, how you doing?” She answered the phone as she collected her luggage off the carousel. “Where are you?” He asked, it sounded like it had all kicked off already. “Just got off the plane. They already on?” She asked, hearing Jared’s distant laugh through speakers, the question answered itself. “Yeah, Jason said he’d collect you. He’ll run over the song a few times and get you in without anyone seeing.” Rob answered, she could hear Rich in the background, second last question, I’ll go find our lucky last. “Thanks Rob, for everything.” She said goodbye and hang up, tucking the phone into her pocket, she looked over her bags, satisfied she had everything, she wheeled out to the awaiting families, friends and cabbies. Sure enough Jason was there with a sign SUPERSTAR. She smiled and navigated through the crowds over to him. “Really?” She asked, nodding at the sign after hugs and kisses were exchanged. He took her large bag and guided her to the exit. “Thought you’d get a kick outta that!” He smiled. Once in the car he put on her demo and insisted they go over it. She sung, timid at first, but with a nice long pep talk from Jason, she belted it out the second time round. “Nice, we’ll get you recording for real, yet!” He said, nudging her arm with his elbow. She shook her head, letting her Y/C/H hair hide her reddening cheeks. “Can we listen to anything else, I swear this song has been the only thing I’ve listened to for months.” She whined, turning their attention to anything else. Jason punched a button on the dash and the radio blared ‘Proud Mary’ at them, they shared a smile before joining in, happy and carefree, her nerves settled for the moment.

The band played their last note, Rob swung his guitar and everyone finished. YN was watching from the very back of the room, standing behind one of Cliff’s men, Steve. Rob pushed his guitar round to his back and stepped back to the microphone. “We should make a move.” Steve whispered over his shoulder, pushing the door behind her open. “Please welcome to the stage, Jensen Ackles.” Rob’s voice echoed through the speakers just as Steve ushered her out. She turned around and pouted at him as he nudged her forward while chuckling. “You’d be surprised at just how perceptive he is to an audience.” Steve promised, but she knew that all too well already. “You can wait in the green room, he won’t be back till the songs over.” Steve explained, opening the door to the open room that housed most of the bored cast. “YNN!” Jared called, crossing the room and hoisting her into a bear hug, lifting her off the ground. “Nice to see you too, big guy!” She laughed, her arms were pinned by her side as he squeezed her tight. “I thought you were working?” Misha said, looking at Steve and Jared as he pecked her cheek. “So does Jensen, please don’t say anything!” She begged, he gave a sly smile and nodded. “YN! What are you doing here?” Kim asked, jumping out of her seat to pull YN into a swaying hug. “Trying to surprise Ackles!” YN answered, collapsing onto the sofa between Brianna and Matt. “Hey, YNN?” Rich called as he came through the door that lead to the stage. YN put her hands out for Rich to pull her up from the couch, which he did and straight into a hug. “Jason asked me to run through warm ups with you…” He pulled a face as he saw the colour drop from hers. “Just breathe, YNN. Remember why you’re here.” Jared was suddenly whispering reassurances in her ear, thankful she had a friend like him. She squeezed the hand on her shoulder and nodded at Rich.

Jason’s prepared something special for us, so while we take a breather, please make him feel welcome! Rich introduced before placing the mic next to Jason, who was already seated and setting up his guitar. The crowd quieted down as Jason tapped the mic. “Howdy y’all, thanks for having me.” The band behind Jason squeezed past YN on their way off stage, all patting her back and wishing her good luck. Jensen and Rob were still on stage, meandering back as Jensen wasn’t aware of the switch up of plans. “Do y’all mind if I bring a special someone out here?” Jason asked, the crowd whooped and applauded in agreeance, “Thanks! She’s someone I’ve wanted to work with for ages, she’s a last minute addition to the show…” Jason looked round at Rob who whispered something into Jensen’s ear, his jaw dropped. “Please give a warm, Jax welcome to YFN YLN!” He called, holding his hand out to the side of the stage, Rich gave YN a push out into the light. All the nerves and butterflies and doubting voices had assured her it would be terrifying, that she’d see disapproving faces and the lights would be too bright. But it wasn’t. The audience was screaming and cheering and whistling, but she couldn’t see their faces, the lights made the room in front of the stage black, yet they didn’t blind her. She smiled at Jason and waved at the anonymous pit of applause. Rob was walking toward her, leaving a dumbfounded Jensen standing on the side of the stage. “You’ll smash it.” Rob whispered as he pecked her cheek on the way past, she winked at him and continued over to Jason, patting him on the shoulder, collecting her microphone, ignoring her statue of a boyfriend for the moment. “Hey y’all! Thanks for having me!” The crowd cheered again, a few people yelled out different welcoming phrases. YN turned to Jason and nodded, he smiled and began strumming, she looked over at Jensen then, holding one of her hands out to the side. “Surprise baby! This is for you!” He’s a good boy, loves his mama, loves Jesus and America too. YN began, enjoying the shocked look on her man’s face, but there was an audience and they deserved a show if you were gonna interrupt their paid weekend. He’s a good boy, crazy ‘bout Elvis, loves horses and his girlfriend too, yeah, yeah. YN really got into it on stage, broke free from her stand by Jason’s side and moved across the stage, relishing in the fans singing along to the chorus. Now I’m free fallin’, now I’m free fallin’... I wanna glide down over Mulholland, I wanna write his name in the sky. I wanna free fall out into nothing, I’m gonna leave this world for a while. Now I’m free, free fallin’, fallin’ Free fallin’... YN finishes, letting Jason playout the ending. Once the last note from the guitar fades, it’s silent for a moment, no one moves, no one breathes, then the room erupts. Jason removes his guitar and places it in the stand, bringing her into a tight hug, whispering congratulations and how she HAS to record for him now. Jensen crosses the stage, mouth open. He’s speechless, and Jensen speechless is truly a compliment. He lifts her in his arms, his mouth moulded to hers, hoping beyond hope that he’s conveying everything through touch as words would not do him justice. He releases her lips and lets her slide down his body till she’s on her feet. She brings the mic she hadn’t let go of, back up to her mouth. “I believe you have something of mine.” She says clearly, no one in the room understands except for him. He smiles and brings his fist around from her back. The room goes quiet as he releases her and brings his hand between them, opening his fingers, one by one till his palm is facing her. A simple ring in the center of his hand. No one else can see what she can, they don’t understand the reason she almost drops the mic, or why her eyes begin to water. Then he gets down on one knee. There are shouts, whistles, cries, and sobs from the crowd as he takes the mic from her hand and gives it to Jason who’s still on stage, Jason positions it between the couple. “YFN YLN, would you do me the absolute honour, of becoming my need.” He asks, beaming up at her, tears flowing from both their eyes, another small comment only they and close friends would understand. “My want an’ need.” She answers, pulling his face up to hers, pecking his lips several times, running her thumb under his eyes to wipe away the tears. He slips the ring on to her finger, then pulls her back to him, cradling her in his arms, so tight that her molecules might just shift and fit together with his to form one perfect combination. “Did you just say wanton need?” He whispered into her ear so only she would hear, he felt her lips pull up into a smile as her head faintly nodded yes. “I didn’t tell you, the business is expanding to Vancouver, we’ll actually have a home that we both live in.” She said, pulling back to look into his eyes, searching for a sign that this was another good surprise. Fresh tears spilled over as he pressed his lips back to hers. But it doesn’t matter where they live for he knew that he was home when her lips touched his.

Tagging: @impala-dreamer@jalove-wecallhimdean@whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname@melonberri@percywinchester27@avasmommy224@wayward-mirage@waywardjoy@wi-deangirl77@sdavid09@ellexirmalfoy@bringmesomepie56@babypieandwhiskey@kristaparadowski@gabby913@charliebradbury1104@blacktithe7@thegreatficmaster@impala-dreamer!@mrswhozeewhatsis@i-like-your-assbutt@yoursmilemakesmeloveyou@chaos-and-the-calm67@frenchybell@chvalkenberg95@ackleholic-hunter@green-love-red-fantasyhearts@impalaimagining@leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid@lucifer-in-leather@manawhaat@nichelle-my-belle@lipstickandwhiskey@grace-for-sale@hasta-impalasta@hideyourdemoneyes@oriona75@ilostmyshoe-79@eyes-of-a-disney-princess@kazchester-fanfiction@ellen-reincarnated1967@beckawinchester@notnaturalanahi@jalove-wecallhimdean@autopistaaningunaparte@loveitsallineed@mogaruke @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @purgatoan @clairese1980

#beckaandjohannaschallenge #finding home #spnfanficpond #huntercentral #jensenxreader #fluff

[ilguna]

☼ drowning in love (Johanna Mason) ☼

summary; you promised Johanna you'd support her with anything she needed when she came back from the Capitol.

warnings; swearing, they shower together, torture mention.

wc; 1.6k

–

“I’ve changed my mind.” Johanna says, you tilt your head at her, unamused.

The two of you are currently inside of, what must be, the smallest bathroom you’ve ever seen. You thought that when the medical team of Thirteen said they had a private bathroom, they meant something bigger. You weren’t expecting it to be the same size as the bathrooms in the Capitol, but at least half that. It isn’t, though. Everything in here has been crammed to ensure that every inch of space is used.

Johanna’s sitting on the toilet lid, hunched over in her towel, arms wrapped around her abdomen to make herself smaller. You’re standing directly in front of her, your kneecaps touching hers because there is nowhere else to stand in here. You’re lucky that there’s even enough room for the two of you to shower together in the first place.

“Babe, that’s what you said ten minutes ago, you can’t keep changing your mind.”

She shakes her head, staring at the floor, “I’m not ready.”

“You’re going to have to do it either way.” You tell her, “If you don’t do it with me, then the nurses will do it, and they don’t really care about your feelings.”

She meets your eyes, “They’ll sedate me.”

“And then you miss out on an opportunity to start the process of healing. You can’t keep pushing it back. What will you do when the rebellion’s over and we’re no longer in Thirteen? There won’t be anyone to sedate you.” You raise your eyebrows.

“You will, if I put up a big enough fight.” She says, you think you can see a smile hinting at the corners of her lips. She’s not entirely joking, though. She knows that you don’t like seeing her in pain.

“You’ll be okay, I’ll be right here.”

“Except, I don’t want to go in there alone. What if—what if I have an episode?” She asks, you watch her shudder.

“Do you want me to go in with you?” You ask, “You know I will.”

“What if I attack you? Like Peeta did to Katniss?” 

“You won’t. They didn’t use tracker jacker venom on you.” You say, “And the doctors would’ve caught it by now.”

Johanna begins to bite on her bottom lip, face contorting while she thinks. She knows you’re right, but she doesn’t want to admit it. She just wants to find a way out to avoid having to face the water. And you understand why, the issue is that you won’t be putting up with sponge baths for the rest of your life. 

Her eyes dart to the door momentarily, possibly planning an escape. She won’t make it far, not with you standing in front of it. She wouldn’t be able to pull it open before you have her on her ass again.

“Johanna, the water can’t hurt you.” You slide down the wall, taking her hands in yours, “You know you’ll have control in there. You’ll be able to move the shower head off to the side if you can’t handle it, and change the temperature if it’s too close to what they used in the Capitol.”

She presses her lips together, “I don’t want to freak out, (Y/n).”

“You won’t. I’ll get in there with you. You’ll be safe with me in there, you know I would never let anything happen to you, not when I’m right there.” You squeeze her hands.

She nods.

“It’s only a few minutes, we’re just getting your body washed. You’ll feel so much better once the grime is gone, and you’re washing away their touch.”

“Okay.” Johanna breathes.

“Okay.” You echo, letting go of her hands as you get back to your feet. 

You slide the glass door open, leaning in to turn the shower on. You can feel her hands grip around your wrist when the water starts. And without you even saying anything, she begins to take deep breaths in through her nose, and exhales through her mouth. A technique she was taught by the head doctor, it looks like she’s paying attention after all.

You guide her hand to the water slowly so she can feel the temperature, adjusting it the way she tells you to. She goes on the hotter side, staying away from the warm to cold range. You’ll have to keep that in mind for the future.

“Alright,” You hold your hand out to her.

“Can you go in first?” She asks.

“Johanna, if you run out of the bathroom, I’m going to be pissed.” You tell her.

“I won’t. You’ll be closer to the water.” She says, “Please?”

You watch her for a couple of seconds, gauging whether or not she’s telling the truth, and find that she is. You pull your hair up, figuring that you’d rather accidentally get the ends wet than your whole head. You then take off District Thirteen’s jumpsuit, and the underwear underneath.

You keep a hand on Johanna when you open the glass door, backing inside a few steps. This forces her to her feet, where she uses a shaky hand to release the towel, letting it fall to the floor.

“It’s only a couple of minutes.” You remind her, “One step at a time.”

“I know.” She breathes, “I don’t think I can get my face wet.” 

“How about we do your collarbones and down?” You ask, “Does that sound okay?”

She hums in agreement, coming into the shower. She slides the door shut behind her, and you watch her begin to take deeper breaths. You reach back to feel how close the water is, and find it only an inch further back.

“How do you want to do this?” You ask her, “You have to face the water.”

“Just my back right now.” She closes her eyes.

You move her around, slowly backing her into the water, watching as her face twists at the anticipation. When it begins to rain down on her back, she jumps slightly, a shudder running through her body. You can see the goosebumps rise on her arms.

You step closer, placing your hands on her hips, watching her face. She’s got her eyes closed, trying to focus on not freaking out. She moves slightly to allow the water on her shoulders and down her sides.

“Do you think I’ll be better by the end of the rebellion?” She asks.

“If we keep working on it, it’ll be a step in the right direction.” You tell her, “It won’t happen overnight Johanna, as much as I know you wish it would.”

“I wish he’d chosen something else.” She mutters, eyebrows drawing in, “The District borders will finally be down and we won’t even be able to see the ocean. Finnick makes me so jealous when he talks about how beautiful the beach is. And all we’ve got are fuckin’ trees.” 

“That’ll be our goal, then.” You say, she opens her eyes, “To go visit Annie and Finnick on the beach.”

“That could take years, (Y/n).” She says.

“Good thing we’re gonna live for a while.” You smile, she lets out a laugh, “Ready to turn around?”

She nods, you let go of her hips, allowing her to turn around to face the water. She lets out a breath, hesitating.

“I didn’t take you as a beach person.” You say, hoping it’ll take her mind off of the shower water, and instead put her somewhere else. She doesn’t move for a second, before stepping forward. You place your hands on her hips again.

“Yeah, well, neither did I. Finnick talks about the summers there, how he and his family would jump off the docks as kids. The water is cold and refreshing. The sand is warm, and sometimes too hot to walk on with bare feet.” She murmurs, reaching over to grab the bar of soap on the shelf, you smile slightly. “They build sandcastles and play games. It’s like a picnic we have at home, but on the beach. And the best part is the sunsets apparently.”

“I think Finnick just wants us to move there.” You laugh.

“Probably.” She agrees, “I wouldn’t mind, Annie and Finnick are our best friends. It’d be nice to be close to torture them often.”

“I’m sure it’s an option.” You say, “Even if you’re not ready to see the water, I’m sure they have houses away from the water.”

She pauses, “You’d move there with me?”

“Where else would I go?” You laugh, “Do you think I’d stay in Seven?”

“Well, no.” She says, carefully rubbing the soap over her skin. It’s still tender from the scabs that have recently fallen off. “I just thought you’d be more against it.”

“We’ve lived in Seven our whole lives, I’m sure it’ll be okay if we move somewhere new for a while.” You tell her.

“That’s true.”

You lather her back in soap, so it’s less effort for her. She rinses the scentless bubbles down the drain, and then steps out to dry herself off. You get rid of the soap that she’d accidentally gotten on you, before shutting the water off.

When you step out, you’re able to see Johanna wiping her eyes, sniffing. She looks at your briefly, eyes already turning red.

“Hey,” You pull the spare towel around your body, before pulling her into a hug. She wraps her arms around you, letting out a sob. “It was so easy, you didn’t even think about it.”

“I know.” She places her forehead on your shoulder, “I know, I’m afraid it won’t be like this every time.”

“It can be, though.” You press a kiss to her cheek, squeezing her tighter, “And I’ll be here with you the entire time, I promise.”

#ilguna #johanna mason #johanna mason imagine #johanna mason oneshot #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason fanfic #johanna mason x yn #johanna mason x y/n #johanna mason x you #johanna imagine #johanna oneshot #johanna fanfic #johanna x reader #johanna x yn #johanna x y/n #johanna x you #thg #the hunger games #fluff #requested

[ilguna]

Can I please get #14 from list 1 with Johanna either prepping for the 75th or in the area during the 75th? Thank you!

☼ slippery show (Johanna Mason) ☼

warnings; swearing, johanna's naked, a little nsfw.

wc; 1.5k

prompt; 14. getting turned on when they see the other succeeding.

—

“Finnick, genuinely, do you know anything about archery?” You ask, watching as he pulls a medium-sized bow off of the display table.

He briefly glances at you, unbothered by your tone. It wouldn’t be the first time in your life that you’ve questioned his abilities, because of this, he doesn’t let your doubt waver his confidence. With the bow in one hand, he reaches to grab a matching arrow with the other.

“I think you’ll be surprised.” He says.

“Really?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. “Let’s see it, then, golden boy.”

Finnick gives you a look, one that tells you that you’re about to eat your words. When he holds the bow up, sliding the arrow across it, you take a step back to give him more room. He pulls the string back, taking in a deep breath, and releases the arrow when he breathes out.

The arrow hits the very outer circle of the target.

You sputter out a laugh, Finnick’s head whips in your direction to give you a nasty glare. You cover your mouth, but the giggles escape through your fingers. You can’t take him seriously, ever, and this is the exact reason why. He pretends like he knows what he’s doing, and then he does something stupid that you saw coming.

“I really can’t say I’m surprised.” You manage to get out. “Do it again.”

The corners of his lips twitch upward. “Shut up.”

“Come on, Finnick.” You grin, eyes wandering away to the rest of the gymnasium.

“No, it’s your turn.” Finnick holds the bow out, “You can’t just laugh at me without doing it, too.”

“Oh, yeah I can.” You tell him, eyes landing on Johanna.

She’s halfway across the room, standing next to a wrestling mat with one of the training experts. She’s got her arms crossed, head tilted to the side while she listens to what the woman has to say about the station. She must get bored, because she turns her attention away, landing on you.

The two of you lock eyes for a long moment, neither of you moving. And then, Johanna gives you a slight smirk.

“Here.” Finnick takes your hand, putting the bow in it. “We can take turns laughing at each other.”

You force yourself to look away from your girlfriend, to Finnick. You’d much rather be over there with her. The reason why you’re not is because she wanted to try out some of the solo training stations, and Finnick wanted to see if you had any hidden skills he should know about.

Despite telling him that you know as much as he does, considering you come from the same district, he’s going to drag you around the gymnasium until he’s satisfied or it’s lunch time. So far, he’s taken you to the more obvious and easy places to start. You can throw a spear and a trident with your eyes closed. And a knife isn’t that difficult, either.

With those out of the way, he decided to take you to the archery area. It’s clear that he can shoot an arrow, just not very good. You’re not entirely sure if you’ll be any better at it. In fact, you might be worse.

You sigh, fixing the bow in your hand. “I’m going to suck.”

“Yeah, I know.” Finnick says. “I want a turn at laughing at you.”

“Thanks.” You make a face at him. 

You turn to the table with the arrows, plucking one of them off. You hold it up, looking it over. It’s made out of silver, glinting in the light. You bring up the bow, mimicking the way that Finnick had prepared the arrow against it. The archery expert seems to have already removed Finnick’s arrow, giving you a blank slate.

You press your lips together, pulling back the arrow, closing one of your eyes to aim, and then letting go of the arrow. It whistles through the air, filling the moment of silence, before it thwaps against the target, sticking in the circle surrounding the center.

Once again, you let out a laugh, a smile crossing your face as you turn to see a disappointed Finnick. He rolls his eyes at you, and you place the bow back onto the display table. You raise your eyebrows at him.

“That was luck.” Finnick says.

“Or pure talent that you seem to lack.” You suggest, Finnick squints at you.

“When did you become so mean?”

“Probably right around the time I started dating Johanna.” You say, and the two of you look over.

Johanna’s peeling her tank top off, starting at the bottom and pulling up. She gets to her ribcage and stops, making sure your eyes are on her. The further she pulls up, the more skin she exposes, and reveals that she didn’t put a bra on this morning.

Finnick looks away, not interested in seeing her topless. You, however, are a different story. She wanted to make sure that you were watching, so you will.

She reaches down, thumbs hooking on the inside of her white leggings, slowly pulling them down her thighs. You shake your head at her with a smile, knowing full well that she thinks this is a game. She doesn’t care what anyone else in this room could possibly think.

When she’s got her leggings around her ankles, she swings it up with one leg, catching it in her hand. Only left in her underwear, she raises her eyebrows at you, and you cock your head to the side. 

Is she going to go any further?

The training expert comes over, taking the clothes from Johanna. She pinches at the fabric hiding her lower half, talking to the expert. The expert shrugs, motioning to her underwear. Johanna smiles, and then you watch as she begins to pull that down, too.

“What station is she at?” You ask Finnick.

“The wrestling one.” He says, turning away, “Let’s go fight with sicles.”

“Nope, I’m done playing with toys.” You tell him, “I’ll stay right here.”

“You’re going to watch your naked girlfriend wrestle with another woman?” Finnick asks, and then he starts laughing. “Why don’t you two just get a room?”

“You’re just jealous your super hot girlfriend isn’t here, instead.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest again.

You watch as the expert hands something over, Johanna squirts it into her hand, and then begins to rub it over her body. It takes a few seconds for you to realize that it’s oil that she’s spreading on her skin. Which means that this is going to be a slippery match.

“Well, I’m not going to sit here and watch Johanna.”

“That’s fine, you can go and bother the teenagers. I know that’s what you’ve been waiting for.” You sit down on one of the benches that are scattered across the room. “I’m going to enjoy the show.”

Finnick lets out a gag, walking away, you laugh at his reaction.

As soon as Johanna’s done oiling herself down, she and the wrestling expert go head to head. This is when she’s able to show just how good she’s gotten at fighting up close with people. It should be hard for the expert to get her hands on Johanna, but by the way she grabs your girlfriend, it’s like the oil doesn’t even affect her.

Still, Johanna takes the expert down on the mat easily, several times. She’ll twist her body around the legs, or do a maneuver where she flips the expert onto her back. She does it so effortlessly, like she’s done it her entire life. 

It’s mesmerizing.

Not only is Johanna incredibly gorgeous, but she’s also smart and talented. No matter how many times you tell her this, she always brushes you off. Then moments like these come around and you wonder how you managed to get so lucky ending up with someone so wonderful.

You press your knees together, gritting your teeth as you watch her pin down the expert, hand wrapped around their throat. It’s tense for a moment, and then Johanna backs off, letting out a laugh.

The two of them get back to their feet, where the expert walks off to the table, picking up a white towel. She tosses it to Johanna, who immediately begins to wipe the oil off of her body. You don’t move from where you sit, letting her pull on her underwear before getting to your feet.

The moment she’s noticed that you’ve gotten up, a smile comes across her face. She’s managed to pull on her leggings by the time you reach her, but she’s still missing her top. You don’t really care, and neither does she. 

Johanna doesn’t resist when you pull her in by her hips, lips hovering over hers. She closes the gap, a warm and breathless feeling comes over your body. There’s something about Johanna that’s intoxicating, and you can’t get away from it. Not that you’d ever want to.

She pulls away, lips turned up.

You lean in close, your right cheek pressed to hers as you go to her ear, murmuring, “Maybe you should come back to mine tonight, yeah?”

--

this is part of my 3k celebration!! you can join until the cure is released on October 31st, at midnight!!

#ilguna #johanna mason #johanna mason imagine #johanna mason oneshot #johanna mason fanfic #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason x you #johanna mason x yn #johanna mason x y/n #johanna imagine #johanna oneshot #johanna fanfic #johanna x reader #johanna x you #johanna x yn #johanna x y/n #thg #the hunger games #3k celebration #request #an--actual--human--disaster #ask #fluff

[ilguna]

Hi a johanna x reader break up? They’re in D13, they get in a fight, and they break up. Make it extra angsty pls 🫢 and thank you

☼ wrong place, wrong time (Johanna Mason) ☼

warnings; swearing, torture mention, prostituion mention.

wc; 2.8k

--

When you met Johanna, it was during the Tribute Parade for the Seventy-Second Hunger Games. It was her first mentoring event, and despite having another victor with her, it was clear that she was getting overwhelmed with the sheer amount of tasks mentors have to take on at once.

As a newer victor yourself, who remembered exactly what it was like to be thrown to the wolves with little to no help, you thought you could give her some advice. However, from the moment you approached her, it was clear that she was not a fan of yours. Judging by the way her face twisted in the center—a clear display of disgust—she had some preceding opinions about you. 

You still have no idea what she was thinking to herself when you began talking to her, because even now she refuses to tell you, as if it’s some big secret. She thought you were full of yourself, going up to her and giving her advice that she never asked for. Like you knew what was best for her tributes or that her mentoring style was wrong.

She knows now that your intentions were innocent. At the time, District Seven and District Ten had this half-alliance that’d been working out in the tributes' favor recently. Well, with the exception of her, because she’d gone by herself the year prior, but her tribute partner took advantage of it for as long as he did.

Either way, they must not have filled her in on this, because the second you began to introduce yourself, she completely stonewalled you. This is not what you were expecting from the girl who managed to play one of the smartest hands in history, but you can’t blame her. How can you?

After this, it was hard getting Johanna to talk to you beyond formalities, which seemed to be against her will. It wasn’t until your tributes began forming an alliance between your two districts, did she finally come around. By then, you were tired of her brushing you off, and everything you said was no longer sugar coated. 

Surprisingly, Johanna didn’t like this.

A little fact about her is that she’s terrible at communication. From the surface, all conversations with her seem to be straightforward. She says what’s on her mind, disregarding the feelings of the person she’s talking to. She believes it’s a waste of time and effort to censor herself, when she thinks that people need to toughen up.

However, if you do this to her, she can and she will lose her temper. It might not be all at once, but she starts to show signs. The beginning is usually passive aggressive comments, and it only escalates from there.

You didn’t know this at the time of talking to her, obviously. You did figure it out pretty quickly, and instead of just letting it be, you were forward with Johanna. You forget exactly what you told her, but it was something along the lines of, “Before this gets any worse, I would like to talk about it. I can tell we started off on the wrong foot, was it something I said?”

Of course, in classic Johanna fashion, she thought that you weren’t being serious, and in the middle of a sarcastic remark, you stopped her. You told her that it was a genuine question, and you’d like the opportunity to fix what happened in order to continue the alliance between Seven and Ten. Otherwise, you two were heading for a rivalry that you did not have the time nor the energy for.

It took several tries, but you managed to squeeze it out of her. She was honest, she told you that it was the Tribute Parade, your know-it-all attitude and your righteousness to her tributes. This allowed you to explain to her the former alliances and the friendship that you mostly held with the previous mentor of Seven.

She blinked in surprise when you apologized for assuming she knew already. From there, the relationship between you two got better—and eventually grew to be more. By the end of the Seventy-Second Hunger Games, you’d rubbed off on her enough to allow her to communicate the same way you did. There wasn’t a hurdle she couldn’t get over.

It’s different now, three years later. Now it seems like she can’t get her legs high enough, getting her foot caught in the plastic, causing her to land harshly back on the track. Now she doesn’t seem interested in fixing the issue, letting it get worse.

It’s been four weeks since Johanna got rescued from the Capitol. And the only consistent sentence Johanna has said to you in this span of time is, “Get out of my room.”

For the first fourteen days, you did everything you can to change that. You went to visit her every chance you got in District Thirteen’s hospital. If there was a gap in your premade schedule, you took the time to go and see her, with the hope that she wouldn’t turn you away that time. And despite the fact you should’ve known better by then, you still showed up in her doorway. And you were still met with the same answer.

It hurts.

A piece of you shattered when you watched her begin to shake her head at the sight of you alone. She doesn’t want you near her anymore. When before, she couldn’t hold you close enough. She always had you within arms reach, especially during the Quarter Quell because she was afraid of losing you.

When you try to bring this up to Finnick, he brushes you off. All he has to say to you is that she went through a lot. Given the circumstances, you’re lucky that she did come back from the Capitol. She could be another copy of Peeta, who can’t even look at Katniss without getting unnecessarily violent.

It feels like she is, though. Just, instead of the Capitol reengineering her brain to be afraid of you, she’s willingly choosing to push you away. And you let her. After fourteen days of suffering through this, you decided that you weren’t going to do it anymore. You went to visit her on the fifteenth day, right before the hospital stopped taking visitors for the night. 

You hadn’t bothered to see her all day, not that you had the time to, either. Plutarch had them change your schedule to include more combat and weapon training without asking you first. Then, they pulled you in for a meeting to talk to you about potentially sending you to District Two to be with Katniss while she does propos and helps the wounded.

Their reasoning was they wanted to show more hands-on victors to the Capitol and the districts. If they have a little bit of variety, it might inspire loyalists to become rebels, or something stupid like that. Either way, they couldn’t choose Johanna and Peeta for obvious reasons, as much as Plutarch would’ve liked to. The recently rescued could feed their cause.

Which naturally takes Finnick and Annie off the table, as well. Beetee is needed for Special Defense, Haymitch isn’t really a camera-type. This leaves just you, something they were excited about. You could offer a different perspective to the districts that are more like yours and less like Katniss’s.

It didn’t take much for them to convince you to go to District Two, but that’s besides the point.

You went to see Johanna directly after that meeting, exhausted from a long day—something you hadn’t experienced in over a month. They had you go through every physical and mental test they could’ve thought of. And when you were finished with that, they had you training with weapons that you thought you’d never have to touch.

You were frustrated, too. The idea of Johanna shutting you down again was getting to your head. Still, you wanted to go to her. You wanted to see her, tell her that you’d be gone for a couple weeks. She would have plenty of time away from you to collect her thoughts and put her emotions in order. While you wouldn’t mind doing video calls, like Katniss and Haymitch have been doing, you weren’t going to initiate it.

You had a whole speech prepared.

When you saw Johanna through the glass, she was sitting with Finnick on her bed. An occurrence that wasn’t uncommon, they’re best friends, after all. You knew that he was visiting her anyway, because he was letting you in on snippets of their conversations. He knew that she was driving you crazy by not letting you check in with her, so he took the liberty of telling you how she was feeling every couple of days.

It peeved you that she would let him into her room, but you had to remind yourself that they don’t have the same relationship that you two have. He’s not dating her, he’s just her friend. She’s going to trust him with details that she’d never consider telling you. Even though you feel it should be the other way around.

Johanna was smiling, Finnick was laughing. And then her wandering eyes caught sight of you, the expression on her face disappearing completely. You didn’t get to open your mouth before she said, “Right when I think I’m finally going to get a day with you—here you are. What about ‘go away’ do you not understand?”

You haven’t seen her since.

District Two helped that considerably. The tasks weren’t as mind-numbing as you were hoping they’d be, but it was easy to get caught up in helping people. That’s the part you enjoyed the most. If you could keep your hands busy, then you weren’t thinking about her or the expression on her face.

Well, during the day it was easy to forget about her. At night it became different, you’d spend hours tossing and turning, replaying every moment you spent with her leading up to the final day of the Quarter Quell. How she specifically instructed you to go to the tree and wait there to be rescued. You were not to wait on her.

She told you she loved you before she sent you away.

Your trip in District Two was suddenly cut short when Katniss got shot, and you were grazed with a lazy second bullet. Unable to secure your safety, you were promptly whisked onto a hovercraft and flown straight back to Thirteen. You were uninjured and allowed to sleep in your own room, with Katniss having bruised ribs so she was taken to the hospital.

You were going to go with her, since you’d grown closer from working side by side for two weeks. The moment you stepped foot into the first hallway, you changed your mind. You asked Haymitch to get you when she woke up, and then you left.

Since, they’ve resumed your training schedule. Which is strangely more work than being in the district itself. It works as a better distraction, at least. It keeps you from getting the urge of seeing Johanna all hours of the day. Although, with every passing day that you don’t try to fix your relationship, you slip further and further from each other’s grasp.

Except, you did try. It was Johanna that repeatedly shut it down. 

“Are you sure you can officiate the wedding?” Plutarch asks again. “A guy from your district just came forward and said that he could do it.”

“Dalton.” You murmur, straightening out the grey jumpsuit. “I talked to him the other day about it, he told me that he’s never actually done it before.” You turn away from the mirror to look at Plutarch. “I have, that’s why Finnick and Annie said they wanted me to do it.”

Plutarch nods. “Right, well, Coin wants to start in about twenty minutes.”

“Gotcha.” You sigh. “I’ve got to run up to my room real quick, I grabbed something for them while I was in Two. I’ve just been holding onto it until the right moment.”

Plutarch places a hand on your shoulder before walking in the direction of the kitchen, where Peeta should be with the cake. You start for the exit immediately because you have such a limited amount of time to make this trip. You walk a long hallway, up a flight of stairs and then onto the elevator. From there, you have to walk from one side of the building to the other.

A part of you had a feeling that Finnick and Annie would seal their love sometime soon, especially after what happened. The last thing they’d want is to wait any longer when they love each other now. That’s why you went ahead and worked with Haymitch to get something done for them.

The night before the Quell, Mags had given Haymitch a special picture of Finnick and Annie together. It’s clear that they have no clue the photo was being taken because of the little bit of blur. In the photo, Finnick is dipping Annie as far back as she’ll go, face buried into the far side of her neck. While Annie has the brightest smile on her face, mid-laughter.

You took the photo with you to Two, where you struggled to find a business that was still running, even with the battle happening. A single woodworking shop was open, and as soon as you mentioned needing a picture frame, she jumped at the opportunity. She had many prepared, but you wanted a white frame, and you wanted it to be engraved with, ‘The Odair’s, forever and always’. 

It truly is a gorgeous piece, as simple as it is. She went above and beyond for them, and you’d like to think that Mags would be happy with it.

As you swing the door to your room open, you know something is off. The lights are on, despite the fact that you turned them off before you left. When you sweep the small area, your eyes land on Johanna, who’s sitting on your bed, picture frame in hand, eyebrows furrowed.

She doesn’t look the way she did the last time you saw her. In fact, she looks much healthier, even with the deep bags beneath her eyes. She’s put some weight back on due to the meal plan the hospital has her on, and her hair has grown a little bit more. A dark fuzz covers what used to be her exposed skull.

Johanna looks up at your presence, but all you can think about is how she’s leaving finger streaks on the glass you’ve meticulously cleaned. 

“I need that.” You tell her, holding out your hand. “I have to get back downstairs.”

“I didn’t realize I meant so little to you.” She ignores what you’ve said, but sets the frame aside. “You’ve moved on pretty quickly. I bet you were hoping I was going to die in the Capitol.”

You stare at her blankly, lips parting. Has she hit her head recently? Or maybe it’s the torture finally catching up with her. “Moved on?” You repeat. “Johanna, I have not.”

“You haven’t come to see me in weeks.” She accuses.

A scoff leaves your mouth before you can catch it. Her eyes widen, not expecting that from you. “Are you feeling alright?” You ask. “Because last time I checked, you’re the one that told me to ‘go away’ five times a day. Every time I went to see you, you told me to leave. I listened. Is that not what you wanted?”

“If you actually loved me, you would know the answer to that.”

“I do love you!” You suddenly shout at her, she flinches at your tone, regret seeps into your chest. You lower your tone, “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to stand here and let you tell me that I don’t love you. I was pushing for you to get rescued since I woke up in that hovercraft without you. I begged them to go back for you.

“And all those secrets that Finnick told live weren’t just his, they were mine too.” You tell her, watching as her face drops. “I had to tell him what happened to me. I was the first one through those hospital doors when I heard you were here. And even though it was obvious you didn’t want me, I still came around for two weeks hoping that you’d suddenly change your mind.

“I am not gonna let you blame this on me.” You snap, striding forward. You swipe the picture frame from the bed. “And I am not going to let you treat me like shit. This relationship is done. Get out of my room.”

--

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

#ilguna #johanna mason #johanna mason imagine #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason oneshot #johanna mason fanfic #johanna mason x you #johanna mason x yn #johanna mason x y/n #johanna imagine #johanna oneshot #johanna fanfic #johanna x reader #johanna x you #johanna x yn #johanna x y/n #thg #the hunger games #3k celebration #mutuals #planet anon #ask #amonett

[ilguna]

☼ runs in the family (Johanna Mason) ☼

summary; lately you've been flirting with Cashmere, and Johanna can't watch anymore.

warnings; swearing, death mention, hints at prostitution, weird little sister idolization for a second.

wc; 3.4k

notes: reader is finnick’s sister.

–

The biggest problem you have with being Finnick’s younger sister, is the fact that you pick up on his behavior and make it yours as well. It doesn’t sound so bad at first, maybe you’re just idolizing him, because that’s what younger siblings do. Except, you two are grown adults now, and it shouldn’t be that way anymore.

When your parents were alive, they used to encourage the behavior by saying that you and Finnick were meant to be twins, with how similar you were. Everything he did, you were right behind him. For the longest time, he loathed your existence, and didn’t bother hiding it, either. To him, there was nothing worse than being constantly compared to his younger sister, of all people.

It only got worse from there. You got enrolled into District Four’s Private Academy at the same time that he did. Which meant that you were in the same classes as him, despite being two years younger. He got the achievement of being the top of the class with boys, and you followed a couple of days later with the girls.

It got so bad to the point where he stopped speaking to you unless he had to.

You have to admit, there were a few times where you begged to be with Finnick, because he was the only person you could trust. You didn’t have many friends your age, because Finnick’s friends were yours. On the other hand, you used to go blue in the face telling your parents that Finnick hated you because they insisted you be attached at the hip.

Finnick got reaped at fourteen, of course. He won the title of the youngest victor ever. As well as the biggest sponsor gift in history. He came back from the Capitol, traumatized but triumphant over the fact that he could finally be differentiated from you. He started talking to you again, because you two were no Cashmere and Gloss. You didn’t care, you didn’t want to be important like them.

Finnick got to be in the spotlight without you having the chance of taking it over, and you were forced to focus on your studies if you even wanted a sliver of your parents' attention. It was a heavy trade-off, because everything fell back onto you to be successful too. Not quite in the same way, but they didn’t want you to give up solely because he was a victor.

The year Finnick turned sixteen was a hard year for you. It started off that way, because you hit Finnick’s age when he was reaped. And while you were suffering from nightmares, your parents filled every free hour of your day with the Private Academy or studying at school. You were exhausted.

Finnick wasn’t even on the train for an hour before you got into a fight with them over it, tired of the pressure to succeed when that’s all you’ve ever done in your life. 

That was the last conversation you ever had with them. You left the house for two days, something you’d never done before, but you couldn’t face them. When you came home, they were nowhere to be seen. You waited hours and hours for them to return, and still, they were gone.

No one in Victor’s Village had an idea of what happened. No one on the way to the Justice Building had a single clue. The Mayor of Four completely shut you down and threatened to arrest you if you pursued the matter any further, sending you home.

You spent three weeks alone in that house, struggling to preserve any sense of normalcy, terrified that you were going to be taken by the Mayor, since he knew that you were by yourself. It didn’t even dawn on you that he must’ve had some part in their disappearance when he sent you away. You were worried about the two most important people in your life gone.

You were doing things that you never had to do before. You didn’t usually cook for yourself in the first place, so you were left with easy meals that you had been eating before his win. The problem is, with Finnick’s money, they stopped buying food like that, which brought in a whole new issue. You’d never had to go buy groceries before.

You spent three days trying to find any cash whatsoever, unaware of the fact that Finnick’s Victor ID was in the top drawer in the kitchen, and would pay for anything you asked for. You were starving, and ended up at one of the other Victors’ houses, in full-blown hysterics because you couldn’t handle it anymore.

Everyday you woke up and wished that Four’s tributes would die quicker, because that meant Finnick would come home. He would be able to take care of you, and understood where everything was. He would have a clue as to what happened.

When Finnick came home, he shut you out. He spent days locked alone in his bedroom, denying any idea as to what happened to your parents, refusing to talk to you once again. You knew he was lying to you, he wasn’t trying to hide it either. Your parents were gone, not a single trace as to where they’d gone, and he decided you didn’t need to hear why.

After a month of pestering him for an answer, you stopped. You couldn’t do it anymore, with the stress of everything hitting you at once, you gave up. Finnick must’ve thought that you’d forgiven him, when really you didn’t. You were angry with him beyond words, and you punished him the same way that he punished you: you stopped talking to him entirely.

You pushed him away, and kept it like that for the next year. He tried to take up your parents’ role in the house to make up for their absence. He made breakfast, lunch and dinner. He walked you from your school to the Private Academy, where he was forced to work for the next few years. He cleaned your clothes, and restocked your bathroom items, and he kept trying to make up for it.

You had a whole year to plan how you were going to get back at him for the final time, because you refused to be with Finnick for the rest of your life if he was going to lie to you and treat you like a baby. The only answer you came up with in the end was the one that would likely kill you.

You volunteered for the Hunger Games at fifteen. 

At the time, there was a part of you that wished you would die inside of the arena, to punish Finnick for the very last time. You would be the last person taken away from him, by your own choice. And he would be forced to live with it for the rest of his life. Alone. 

Just like how you were for almost two months.

Finnick wasn’t mad. You would say that he was extremely upset with you on the train to the Capitol. All you could do was taunt him. What was he going to do about it? It was too late to go back. You told him that he had two choices—he could tell you what happened to your parents and what caused them to be taken away, in which case you’d fight to come home. Or he could continue to treat you the way he was, and you’d let the Games play out the way they always do.

He was less than thrilled with your existence before you were reaped, but he didn’t leave you alone for a second when he was mentoring you. By then, he was seventeen. He’d had three years to perfect the way he mentors, and there wasn’t a chance in hell that he was going to let his little sister die inside of the arena.

Well, Finnick wasn’t going to let you act that way and get what you wanted at the same time. He told you to figure it out yourself. Which meant that there was a way to find out without asking him about it.

You spent the week analyzing his behavior, how odd it was that he’d leave the apartment frequently but Mags never did the same thing. The times he’d come home, how late in the night it would be. The night of the interviews, you managed to get Mags alone. It wasn’t for long, less than five minutes.

From the very first second to the last, you spent the entire time spewing terrible theories about your brother and what he could be doing when he went out. You figured out earlier in the week that Mags liked to be correct sometimes, which meant that at the end of the conversation, she corrected you. She told you what Finnick was really doing.

You had never felt so much regret in your life like you did at that moment. On the same token, you couldn’t believe that Finnick would keep something so vital from you.

Since, there’s been several times that while you were in the arena, he’d say he wished how much he could be in there with you, to protect you. He’s grateful that they don’t let victors volunteer to go in again. If he had, one of you would be dead today, and the other would be living without them.

As much as you know Finnick was wishing he’d be able to save you from the horrors of the Capitol post-victory, it wasn’t realistic. There might not have been any family for Snow to kill, but you had other people you loved. Your friends, your neighbors, and the people who took care of you and Finnick after your parents were gone.

It’s a shame, being sucked into Finnick’s personal vortex.

Lately, you’ve picked up on something you swore you never would—his stupid casanova personality. It’s like he automatically defaults to flirting with people when he talks to them. You started off by making fun of him, because you wanted him to knock it off. It was weird to watch for a while, especially since that is not the same version of Finnick that you know.

However, he ended up telling you it’s because that’s how he’s supposed to act with these people. A young ladies man. As for you, you’re his cute little sister. Gross.

You honestly thought you had him figured out because he uses it to his benefit sometimes, whether he realizes it or not. It might have started off as an act because the people here need to see him that way, but it’s turned into a manipulation tactic. 

When you found out, you couldn’t believe he didn’t use it to get leverage on people, to flatter them and get what he wants. So, you started doing the same thing. So, in the end, it’s your fault that you picked up on this, but really, it’s funny how people react when they’re being flirted with. It’s like being seen as desirable away from the Capitol’s standards is a new high. It’s a form of validation, especially with the victors you work with every year. Like Cashmere, for example. 

If you flirt with her, or the other career mentors, they’re more likely to team up with you for the sponsors. You get to be on the good side with the people around you, and your tributes get taken care of. It’s a win-win situation.

“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful your hair is?” You ask, leaning into the table.

Cashmere looks at you through her eyelashes, a smile coming over her face, “I used to.”

“People don’t tell you anymore?” You gasp, “Your curls are so natural and cute.”

She shrugs, “Guess they’re not my biggest quality now.”

“It must be your smile that won over, then.” You wink, Cashmere rolls her eyes, but her smile doesn’t leave her face. “What are you doing after this? Have any plans?”

“No, I was thinking about going out to lunch with Gloss.” She looks over at him. He’s sitting at a different table with Enobaria. Finnick was over there for a while, but you can see that Johanna’s come into the Betting Room. He’ll choose her over anyone nowadays.

“Oh, where?” You raise your eyebrows, “Got room for two more?”

“You and Finnick? What is this, a sibling lunch?” She laughs, “I mean, we’re thinking of going to the new restaurant that opened down the street. It’s all cold stuff, like sandwiches and salads. Do you think he’d be interested?”

“Finnick doesn’t care, as long as it’s edible.”

She shakes her head, “Gloss too, I really don’t know how they do it.”

“You’re telling me.”

Cashmere reaches up to play with her earring, “I’ll let Gloss know, I’m sure he doesn’t mind.”

“Neither will Finnick,” You agree, scooting back.

“Does one work well for you?” She asks, getting to her feet.

“Sounds like a date to me.” You wiggle your eyebrows, biting your lip.

You can see her cheeks flush red before she turns away, heading toward the other table. You wave to Enobaria and Gloss before going to Finnick, who’s suddenly standing alone.

“Hey, I was just talking to Cashmere about all of us going out to lunch this afternoon,” You cross your arms. “Where’d Johanna go?”

“She got upset.” Finnick’s eyebrows twitch, “And who’s ‘all of us’?”

“Siblings, no Enobaria or Johanna.” You say.

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll love that.” He makes a face before turning to the Line Odds board.

“What does that mean? Who are you talking about?” You ask, moving around him so that he has to look at you. “Johanna? Why would she care?”

“She cares about a lot, haven’t you noticed?” He asks.

“No, not really. It’s Johanna, I thought she could give a rat’s ass.”

He makes a face, “Well, not when it comes to you.”

You stand in silence, staring at him for a long minute, trying to figure out what he must mean. Sure, you and Johanna are friends, but that’s the extent of it. You think that the two of you could be closer, if she lets you be, but she holds you at arms-length no matter how hard you try. There’s been times where you’ve tried to get to know her more, and she’ll shut you down. It’s almost like Finnick has something to do with it, because she’s his only friend. 

However, if he’s mentioning it like this, then that can’t be the case.

“You can’t say that and leave it that way.” You tell him.

“Really, I can.” He makes a face at you, “I’m older.”

Oh, he wants to go there?

“And you have a bad track history when it comes to secrets.” You say, knowing full well he doesn’t like it when you use this against him. You’re referencing your parents each time, and he’s told you that you might as well say it instead of beating around the bush. You like to rub salt next to the wound, not directly in it. It means it can’t be your fault if it gets inside. “Tell me.”

“Johanna likes you, idiot.” He says, “Happy?”

You can feel your face fall. No, you’re not happy. In fact, you’re not entirely sure how he expected you to know this information, much less react to it. All you’re doing it going out to lunch with Cashmere and Gloss, you’re not sure why she would take it the wrong way.

Johanna likes you?

Finnick can tell you’re lost, “You’ve been flirting with Cashmere for the past hour. She saw you do it.”

“She knows that I don’t actually like her.” You wave him off, looking over at Cashmere, Enobaria and Gloss.

How can Johanna like you when she never lets you get close enough? It’s different for you, you hear about her everyday of the week and then more. You’re fairly sure you know more about herself than she knows about you, at this point. Even when you go back home, Finnick will continue to talk about her throughout the rest of the year. He sprinkles details about her every now and then because he knows it drives you up the wall.

He knows how badly you want to get her alone, and she won’t let it happen. And he won’t tell her that because he thinks it’s some game. Another person that he has that you never can—just you taking away his spotlight again. He’s afraid that if you really do start dating her, then he’ll never get to see the same side of her ever again, much less get time with her.

You begin to grind your teeth, pressing your lips together. Johanna can’t possibly like you. This has got to be Finnick messing with you again.

When Finnick doesn’t say a word to confirm what you said, you let out a sigh through your nose, “Where’d she go?”

“She left to go back to her room.” He tells you, “She’s probably gone by now.”

“She has a tendency to hang out in the hallway for a minute to calm down.” You tell him, starting toward the exit doors, “You’d know that if you paid more attention.”

“Or maybe you pay too much attention!” He shouts back.

You ignore him, leaving the Betting Room and heading down the first hallway. How long has Finnick known that Johanna likes you? What has he been telling her in response? That you do like other people? Or that he doesn’t know for sure?

Sure enough, as soon as you round the corner into the second hallway, you find Johanna. She’s running a hand through her hair, and she doesn’t bother to look at you at first. When she does, she makes a noise.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You ask, not wanting to start with what Finnick said. There’s been a few times where he’s fucked with you because he knows it’ll get you stuck in a rabbit hole that you’ll wish you’d never jumped down in the first place. It’s better to hear what he said from Johanna, herself. “I saw you left. Are you okay?”

“You and Cashmere seem very close.” She says, you blink, surprised that she’d start so strong. “Didn’t take you as a career-lover.”

“Well, yeah. Her and I are friends.”

“Friends.” She echoes, “Friends flirt with each other?”

She’s upset. She’s really upset if she’s not even bothering to hide her feelings like that. You shake your head at her, “I wasn’t flirting.”

“Right.” She nods, rolling her eyes, “Because it didn’t come off that way or anything. I heard you’re going out to lunch together?”

You squint at her, “I’m confused as to why you care so much. I’ve offered to get lunch with you before. The difference between you and her—”

“Is that I actually like you, and she doesn’t give a shit!” She shouts, “She’s not even into girls!”

You stare at Johanna, genuinely speechless for the first time in your life. You never thought that you’d find yourself in this position, much less with Johanna. 

“So it’s true.” You manage to get out.

“What’s true?” She sighs, crossing her arms.

“Finnick told me you liked me.” You raise your eyebrows, “And it’s true.”

You watch her think for a moment, before her entire expression shifts into anger, “He told you?”

“Yeah, and I came out to make sure, before I did something stupid,” You say, smirking slightly, “Like this.”

You cup Johanna’s face, bringing her lips to yours. The moment they touch, you can feel your stomach skyrocket into your mouth, almost in denial that you’ve just done this. Her lips are soft, and warm, and you can feel the heat slam into your face. Johanna almost pulls away, before she presses into you, kissing you back.

When you take a step back, you brush a strand of hair out of her face. 

“I didn’t think…” She trails off.

“I don’t like Cashmere.” You tell her, “I like you. And you would’ve known sooner, if you actually let me talk to you.”

“It won’t happen again.” She breathes, her eyes on your lips.

#ilguna #johanna mason #johanna mason imagine #johanna mason oneshot #johanna mason fanfic #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason x you #johanna mason x yn #johanna mason x y/n #johanna imagine #johanna oneshot #johanna x reader #johanna fanfic #johanna x yn #johanna x y/n #johanna x you #thg #the hunger games #angst #requested

[ilguna]

Expired medicine! 25 for Johanna Mason please?

☼ the weight of the world (Johanna Mason) ☼

warnings; swearing, needle mention, pain medication abuse, gun mention/use, murder, gore, death.

wc; 1.6k

prompt; 25. "Please, not now."

—

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The morphling bag next to Johanna’s hospital bed never seems to empty. When it comes close, she’ll press the button that summons the nurse for another. She never actually risks running out of the addictive medicine.

She’s only been back for a week and a half, and she’s already been through about fifteen of the bags. At least one and a half a day, which is far from healthy. Each time the nurses try to advise her to slow down, she loses her temper on them. It’s hard to watch.

It’s even worse to handle when they look to you for help, because you’re the one that’s dating her. Hypothetically, you should be able to tell her that they’re right. At the rate she’s going, she’ll become another one of those District Six tributes that never come off of the stuff.

You can’t bring yourself to argue with her, you don’t have the energy to. Besides, she thinks that you’re on her side about everything when it comes to District Thirteen’s doctors. When really, the last thing you need right now is to pick a fight with her. It’ll end up escalating into something worse.

She’s on fire, and she’s targeting anything that moves against her. Earlier, you tried to help her when it came to propping up her pillows, because the beds only move so far up. All you did was tell her to stop getting in the way, frustrated because it seemed like she was doing it on purpose. Then she slapped your hand away and told you to leave her alone and she’ll figure it out by herself.

You love Johanna, you have for the past couple of years. Which means that you’ve managed to build up patience for her attitude and actions. However, now is not the time for her to be wearing it thin. You’re barely holding on as it is. You can’t afford to lose her entirely. 

Johanna’s the last person you have from home. 

She is the last one that made it out of there alive. You don’t even have your family anymore. One minute, they were alive. And the next, the Peacekeepers were executing them on the streets. If they couldn’t have you, the orders from Snow were to take them, instead. They were going to be the consequence for your rebellion.

You weren’t even in District Seven. You were a mentor for Johanna and Blight for the Quarter Quell. He knew that he could get away with it, because they were so far out of reach. What were you going to do? Convince Coin to get you on a hovercraft home? She never would have gone for it.

The only reason why you know they’re dead is because that’s what the rebels from home reported. Originally, Coin had given you the synopsis of the report, either trying to spare you of the goriness or simply because she thought it wasn’t important enough. 

As soon as you asked her if you could read the full paper, she handed it over, no question. It was the first time she had ever met your demands without digging her heels in. The report was long, painfully detailed, and the first line started with, ‘Per your request…’ meaning she had reached out to them, instead of the other way around.

It turns out, your family had been hiding from the Peacekeepers the best they could in the neighbor's basement. It wasn’t in victor’s village, but in your first neighborhood, where you’d lived before you won the Hunger Games. There, they were fed and clothed. The rebel said that they looked healthy, well taken care of.

The rebels were on their way to retrieve them to bring them to the more official rebel base in District Seven, where they were going to be safer. When they got to the neighbor’s house, on the street, your mother and your two sisters were dead, shot in the back of the head.

The blood in the gravel was still wet, meaning that they were just a few minutes too late. A half hour sooner and your family would still be alive, living in the warehouse. When they investigated the house, they found the front door in splinters because it had been kicked in. And your neighbor was shot in the living room, likely for aiding and abetting.

This news came a few days ago, delayed because they couldn’t convey the message. 

All you want is to be left alone to think, but when you tried, Johanna sent five different people after you to bring you to her. When you explained to them that you couldn’t, they told you to tell her, yourself. It wasn’t until Finnick and Annie came around to ask you to see her, did you finally budge.

You didn’t want to tell Johanna right away, because you needed a day to be able to feel what you wanted to. As good as Johanna is at channeling anger, it’s not what you were feeling. It’s not what you are feeling. There’s an empty pit in your chest, and sitting in a room with her yelling, doesn’t fill it.

When you asked her to quiet down, she told you that she just came from the Capitol, she has every right to scream if she wants to. Except, you’re not allowed to leave, because then you’re just as bad as them for some reason. You’re stuck in this fucking room with her.

“I’ll kill them, (Y/n).” Johanna says, bringing you back to the same rant she was on an hour ago. “I’ll kill every one of those fuckers that put their hands on me.” 

The vase that sits at Johanna’s beside is filled with a bouquet of flowers, each one of them native to District Seven. Finnick and Annie brought them in yesterday, Johanna rolled her eyes at the sight of them. You don’t know if she even realizes the significance of them, beyond the plant. Or how hard it must’ve been to get them here.

It was a sweet gesture, one that you had to thank them for privately. When you came back into the room, she shook her head. “What do they think a bunch of flowers is going to do? Magically heal me?”

“They took my freedom from me.” She says, picking at the scabs on her skin. You stopped telling her to knock it off, because you were met with nasty words in exchange when you did. “I can’t even shower by myself anymore without the help of the nurses. And all of them are afraid to look at me, like I’ll fucking snap into pieces if they do.”

You bite your tongue. That is definitely not the reason why. 

“Once they let me out of this bed, I’ll join the rebels. I’ll march straight to the Capitol with the rest of them to see that they actually kill Snow, but I’d much rather do that myself.” She says.

Your mouth twitches, not happy with what she has to say. She would really risk putting herself into danger again, wouldn’t she? Even though she just got out of the Capitol, barely alive as it is. They’ll kill her if they get the opportunity to have her in their hands again. There’s no question about that.

She would do this alone, too. There’s no way in hell that you’d willingly join her in something like that. No amount of guilt-tripping could change your mind on this.

“God, I would do anything to get my hands around his neck.” She says, no longer scratching at her arm. “I would give everything I own, which I guess isn’t much now that he’s burned it all up. Just like with what he’s done to you.”

You blink, coming back into the room. What did she say?

She presses the button on the wall, the one that’ll summon the nurse. Your eyes briefly flicker to the morphling bag to see that it is getting low. “We’ll get him for what he did to them, (Y/n). We’ll make him pay.”

“Please, not now.” You murmur, looking back to the flower vase. You won’t be able to handle this.

“What?” Johanna asks, you can see her move to sit up out of the corner of your eye. “He murdered your family, (Y/n), and you’re acting like it doesn’t even matter.”

“I said, not now.” You snap, getting to your feet. “I know that they’re dead, Johanna. They’re my family, not yours!”

Her eyes narrow. “Then why are you just sitting there?”

“What else am I supposed to do?” You shout, throwing your hand in her direction. “Sit in a fucking hospital bed, hooked up to morphling like some fuckin’ addict and complain all day?” You shake your head. “I couldn’t even hold a funeral for them.”

The room is quiet for a long moment, all you can hear are your breaths, tears building in your eyes. You’ve blown it.

“(Y/n)--” 

“No,” You cry, wiping away the first tear that falls. Your feet begin to back you toward the door, eager to make your escape. “Just, no, Johanna. All I wanted was to be left alone.”

You turn, reaching for the door handle and swinging it open at the same time the nurse tries to come in. You’re already moving though, you slam right into her shoulder, almost flattening her against the doorway entirely. And you don’t stop to apologize, letting her scoff at you.

You’re halfway down the hall by the time you hear the door click shut behind you.

--

this is part of my 3k celebration!! you can join until the cure is realsed on october 31st, at midnight!!

#ilguna #johanna mason #johanna mason imagine #johanna mason fanfic #johanna mason oneshot #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason x you #johanna mason x yn #johanna mason x y/n #johanna imagine #johanna fanfic #johanna oneshot #johanna x reader #johanna x you #johanna x yn #johanna x y/n #thg #the hunger games #angst #anon #ask #3k celebration #request

[ilguna]

☼ harm's way (Johanna Mason) ☼

summary; you would do anything for her, including killing anyone that lays a hand on her.

warnings; swearing, gore, death mention, murder plot, torture mention, violence.

wc; 3.4k

–

“(Y/n), you need to step back.”

A hand is placed on your shoulder, trying to pull you away from the gap in the floor. It’s the only open window you have to see the arena below, and it’s the one being used for the claw. Currently picking up the tributes at the tree below, one by one.

“Don’t touch me!” You snap, slapping Haymitch’s hand away. “I’m trying to see.”

“There’s a less dangerous way to do it. There’s cameras on the bottom of the hovercraft, you can go into the Control Room to see.” He tells you.

“As if I give a shit.” Your face twists when you glance at him, “I’m not going in there, either.”

You’re hanging over the gap by a single hand, held tightly onto the perfectly placed handle. It’s usually used for those who are pulling people into the hovercraft, like those coming inside from the ladder. This is where Haymitch wants to be, no doubt. It’s easier and faster than dragging the bodies off of the claw, but either way, the claw will make it difficult.

You can’t let him be here, though. He wouldn’t be searching the ground the same way that you are, looking for Johanna. Plutarch’s saying that there’s only three people at the tree, and you don’t believe him. How could you? There’s got to be more. There’s more than three tributes left in this stupid rebel alliance that they organized. They’re supposed to be rescuing everyone out of the arena, but right now, they don’t seem so concerned about that.

The claw’s coming up faster now that it doesn’t have to fight against the air bellowing out of the bottom. In the claw’s clutches is Beetee, unconscious with char marks along his body. Haymitch works to grab him by his arms, pulling him into the hovercraft. And immediately, without hesitation, they send the claw back down again.

You watch as Haymitch gets to his knees, pinning Beetee’s forearm down, grabbing out a sterilized scalpel from the first aid kit that they ripped off the wall as soon as Katniss got inside of the hovercraft. They needed to bandage her arm before she lost any more blood from Johanna ripping the tracker out.

The sight of the knife slicing through skin is only slightly nauseating, mostly because you’ve seen worse. The skin doesn’t even resist the knife because of the sharpness, making it easy to open up his arm. It’s only a second later when the blood starts gushing out of the wound, running down Beetee’s dark skin.

Haymitch sticks his fingers inside, absolutely not sanitary, defeating the purpose of the sterilized knife. Beetee begins to squirm at the pain, letting out a noise, but doesn’t wake up during the process. Haymitch pulls out the tracker, inspects it for only a second, and then tosses it through the gap in the floor. You’re able to watch it fall for the first few seconds, and then it disappears completely. Like a water droplet out of a rain cloud.

The claw secures around another person. You dare to lean down more, hoping to get a better look at who it is, hoping it’s her dark hair that you find. 

“(Y/n)!” Haymitch snaps at you, “Don’t.”

“Well then, who is it?” You ask, rolling your eyes, “Since you have the cameras and whatnot.”

“It’s Finnick!” Plutarch shouts from the Control Room. “We still have access to the trackers. From what I can tell, JOhanna and Peeta are still too far to be rescued, unless they come right now.”

You whip around to look at the room, even though you can’t see Plutarch because of the wall that divides the rooms. Your eyebrows turn downward, “We are not leaving Johanna in there!”

“We’ll be left no choice, (Y/n). We have to get Katniss to safety.” Haymitch reasons.

“But we’ll leave Johanna?” You ask, pissed, “Blight died for this! We’re not leaving her!”

“If we stay, we risk getting shot down by the Capitol, and this will all be for nothing.” He argues, “Do you really think that Johanna would rather you die than leave her behind?”

“Haymitch, I don’t think you understand either of us very well if you have to ask that fucking question.” You stare at him, “I would actually rather die than leave her behind. They’ll be taken by the Capitol.”

“You don’t think we know that?”

You sigh through your nose, “Obviously not if you’re suggesting we leave them both! Forget Peeta, do you have even the slightest idea of what they’ll do to Johanna because she knows rebel secrets? They’ll kill her! And before that, they’ll torture the information out of her!”

“She knew the risks when she agreed to help.” Plutarch is coming out of the room, heading your way, “And so did you. We took the precaution to tell her only what she needed to know, the same way we did with Beetee, Finnick, Cecelia, Seeder—”

“To hell with you!” You shout, cutting him off.

The claw has made its way up again, and still, there’s no sign of Johanna or Peeta coming into the clearing next to the lightning tree. You knew this was a bad idea. You can’t believe you agreed to let her go in there instead of you. You begged her to take the mentoring position because it was safer.

You couldn’t tell her no when she asked you to let her do something like this for once, not when you take away big decisions like this from her normally.

“Fuck, Johanna.” You murmur, leaning over the gap.

“Finnick’s got to be the last one.” Plutarch says, checking his watch.

“No, we can hold on for another minute.” You tell him, “One more minute.”

“Yes, and then another four minutes to send down the claw and bring it up again.” He scoffs, “Pack it up.”

“No!” You shout, “Just wait! You don’t—!”

“They’re on their way, (Y/n).” Haymitch tells you.

He’s got Finnick’s arm in the same position that he had Peeta. Only this time, Finnick seems to be wide awake. His lips are moving, but no words are coming out. Something must’ve happened at the tree if they’ve all been rendered useless like that. Finnick surely would help defend Johanna like this, right? Right?

“I don’t care!” You slam your foot into the metal flooring.

Plutarch ignores you, pressing a button on the wall, and you watch in horror as the floor begins to close up, sealing the only passage to your girlfriend. “Bring us to Thirteen!” He shouts to the pilot.

“No!” You cry, “That’s not fair! You can’t!”

“Life isn’t fair!” Plutarch yells back at you, tired of your behavior, “A rebellion isn’t fair! Johanna knew what she was getting herself into. She made the decision, you just need to live with it.”

You begin to cross the room wordlessly, going straight for him for speaking to you like this. Haymitch reaches out to grab you with his bloodied hand, and you slam your boot into his shoulder, sending him backwards away from you. You barely miss Finnick’s fingers when you stomp over him, picking up speed the closer you get to Plutarch.

He begins to retreat into the Control Room. “Stop,” He orders you, “This has gone far enough.”

“Or what?” You snarl, “You gonna leave me behind, too?”

He presses a button from the inside, likely hoping that it’ll block you from getting inside. You slide your arm through the space, unconcerned about harming yourself. The door, unable to shut with an object in the way, flies back open, allowing you access.

“(Y/n)!” Haymitch shouts behind you.

You corner Plutarch in the control room, grabbing the front of his nice Capitol suit with both hands, slamming him against the wall first, before throwing him off to the side. He can’t catch his balance, so he falls to the ground. Haymitch stops where he stands at one end of the table, knowing better than to get in your way.

“You’ll regret this, Plutarch.” You manage to get out through gritted teeth.

“Is that a threat?” He asks, glaring at you.

“It’s a motherfucking promise.” You hiss at him, balling your hands into fists, doing everything you can not to kill him here. They’ll arrest you in Thirteen and you’ll never see the light of day again. Or worse, they won’t take you seriously and put you and your demands at the bottom of their priority list. “If Johanna isn’t saved out of the Capitol before she’s killed, you will wish you could come back to this moment and rescue her out of the arena. If she’s killed, then you can consider yourself dead too, because I won’t stop.”

—

Johanna will be here soon.

That’s what you continue to tell yourself as the minutes tick by, with still no hovercraft containing them. You lost count of how many times you’ve asked Plutarch how much longer until you get word—if he has even the faintest idea of a timeline to go off of.

Katniss and Finnick have done their best to ease your mind and try to keep all of you occupied while you wait. You’ve been all over District Thirteen today. You started off in Special Defense, where you waited for updates. They sat down to tie knots to keep themselves busy, and you went down to the cafeteria long enough to eat lunch before returning.

When there was still nothing, the three of you wandered your way down to the shooting range. You all took turns blowing things up, but it didn’t last for long, not with your anxiety eating away at the back of your mind. You gave up, and sat down and watched as they tried to keep their own spirits up.

All you could think about was how you were going to have to kill a whole team of people if they failed this rescue mission. You’re a lot of things, a murderer being one of them, but you aren’t a liar. Especially not to Plutarch. You still can’t believe they didn’t ask you if you wanted to go to the Capitol as a volunteer to help rescue the victors. You’ve got the experience after all.

Either way, they got bored of blowing stuff up, so at 15:00 you three moved to a room full of screens and computers to watch as Beetee and his team tried to dominate the airwaves against the Capitol. Who he was in the arena didn’t even compare to who he was in that exact moment. You were seeing a completely new person.

The interview that Katniss did in hopes of a distraction was just enough to let the Capitol know that she’s still alive and kicking. It’s Finnick’s interview that gets the main focus, because it single handedly turns the attention back onto Snow for how he’d unfairly treated the victors. And worse, the fact that he’s betraying the people around him. 

You’re only briefly featured at the end. You show up in the pit that was bombed, arms across your chest, telling the story on the day you came home from your Victory Tour after being defiant the whole time, refusing to bend to his will. That’s the day you found your entire family gone.

The whole hour was full of Beetee and the Capitol struggling, going back and forth to keep control over what’s being broadcasted. They give up on smothering Beetee, trying to work another angle by feeding regular afternoon news. When it doesn’t work, they then try to shut down the system entirely. Beetee doesn’t let it happen, they override the blackout and manage to keep control until the very last word that leaves your mouth. 

Gone.

“Let it go!” Beetee said, throwing up his hands and scooting his chair away from the desk. He used a cloth to wipe the sweat that drenched his face. “If they’re not out of there by now, they’re all dead.” And when he turned around in his chair, he was faced with the three of you, each reacting to his words in a different manner. He wasn’t concerned. “It was a good plan, though. Did Plutarch show it to you?”

When none of you gave him the response he was expecting, he took you to another room to show you how the team of volunteers in the Capitol had tried to free the underground prisoners. All while a combination of series of events allowed it to happen in the first place. A knockout gas through the Tribute Center’s ventilation, a power failure, a bomb detonation in a government building, and the disruption broadcast.

Beetee was triumphant when he found out that the plan was hard to follow, because that meant the Capitol did, too.

“Like your electricity trap in the arena?” Katniss asked.

“Exactly. And see how well that worked out?” Beetee asked.

After that, the three of you went over to Command to sit and wait for the word, but you were pushed out because they were discussing serious war business. Instead, you moved to Special Defense to sit in there instead.

That’s where you’ve been for the past few hours.

Katniss and Finnick tie their knots with their ropes, not speaking to one another, while you pace the room impatiently. If it bothers either of them, they don’t speak on it, allowing you to get the bottled energy out. You’re not sure how much time passes before you’re being offered dinner, but all of you deny it. 

Katniss’ fingers begin to bleed, but this doesn’t stop her. Finnick gives up on the knots, and ends up sitting on the floor, hunched over with his head between his knees. Katniss makes a miniature noose.

“Did you love Annie right away, Finnick?” Katniss asks.

“No.” He says. He doesn’t speak for a long time after this, but follows up with, “She crept up on me.”

“And what about you, (Y/n)?” Katniss asks.

“What about me?” You pause long enough to see her face.

“When did you find out you loved Johanna?”

It’s a genuine question, she must be trying to figure her and Peeta out, that’s the only explanation that makes sense. You press your lips together, eyebrows screwed as you go back to pacing the room.

“On the Victory Tour, when I figured out she was the only person that actually cared.” 

Katniss doesn’t ask anymore questions, and you’re grateful. However, your thoughts turn dark in the matter of minutes, as you begin to figure out how exactly you’ll be able to kill them all, if your girlfriend doesn’t come back. Who will you go first? How will you get them all in the same room? Surely, they’ll want to offer their condolences to you, and you’ll be able to attack them, then. You’ll start with Plutarch, of course, for moving that stupid hovercraft before Johanna reached the tree.

And then you’ll escape, however it must be done, because you’ll be damned if they try to kill you for their own mistakes.

You don’t know what time it is when the door finally opens, revealing Haymitch on the other side. “They’re back. We’re wanted in the hospital.” Katniss opens her mouth to speak, Haymitch shakes his head, “That’s all I know.”

You’re the first to move out of the room, unapologetically pushing Haymitch out of the way. The two of you haven’t talked to each other in the few weeks you’ve been here. You’ve been so angry with him, that each time you even see his face, you resist the urge to tear it apart.

The moment you step foot into the hospital, you’re overwhelmed by the sheer amount of chaos. You stop a few steps in, unsure where to start. There’s too many people in here being treated, voices shouting over others. The volunteers seem to have taken a  few hits themselves.

You’re sweeping the hospital, when you find her. She’s unconscious on a gurney, being pushed by a doctor into a private room. You almost don’t recognize her, because she doesn’t look anything like she did the last time you saw her. Her beautiful dark hair is gone. Now, her head has been shaved and her skin is covered in bruises and fresh scabs.

You can’t help the wave of anger that hits you at once, “Johanna!” You shout, starting toward her.

One of the nurses following the gurney moves to block you, but you elbow her out of the way, following them all the way to the room they’re taking her to. You won’t let her out of your sight.

“Miss—you can’t be in here!”

“She’s my girlfriend!” You yell over her, “You’ll have to drag me out of this room to get me away. You hear me?”

The nurse doesn’t look happy, but she decides you’re not worth the effort, giving up the rules she wants to throw back at you. You quietly take a seat on a stool in the corner of the room, giving them plenty of space to work. It’s hard not to intervene when they harshly grab her and jerk her in certain directions. You have to remind yourself that they’re helping her.

In the span of ten short minutes, they seem to be slowing down. They’ve taken several blood samples to run tests on her, have an IV running out of her arm, and wires stuck to her body to track her heartbeat. She’s also hooked up to several machines to keep track of every little thing about her. 

“She was sedated when we received her, she should be coming off of it soon.” The nurse tells you, “Let her wake up on her own.”

“I will.” You move the stool closer so that you can sit next to her, “Trust me.”

“Use the call button if you need help. We’ll come back to check on her soon.”

She leaves the room after that, letting it be just you and Johanna. You reach over to hold her hand, gently moving your thumb over her bruised skin. Once this rebellion is over, the people who did this to her will get what’s coming for them. Which means you need to let it go for now. You’ll come back for them. You always go.

It’s not even five minutes later when the door opens to the room, and you see Haymitch standing in the doorway, apprehensive, “She hasn’t woken up yet?”

“No, the nurse said they were sedated.”

“It was the gas they used in the ventilation.” He clarifies, “Listen, if she shows any sign of hostility—”

“She won’t, not with me.”

“That’s what we thought with Peeta, until he attacked Katniss.”

Your face twists, “How? Is she okay?”

“She’s fine, she’s got her own team of doctors looking over her right now. Peeta tried to strangle her as soon as she came into the room. The nurses want to set someone up with you, but because Annie didn’t attack Finnick, I told them not to.”

“Thank you, Haymitch.” You look back at Johanna, her eyebrows are twisting.

“Don’t worry about it.” He says, “We should have a meeting after this.”

“I’ll come out in a bit.” You agree.

He nods, happy with your compliance. The door clicks shut behind him.

Johanna lets out a noise, a whine as she squeezes her eyes, and then opens them suddenly. She takes in her surroundings wordlessly, eyes searching around her, looking for something. And then her head jerks in your direction.

You watch her entire body relax, “(Y/n).”

“Johanna.” You breathe, getting off the stool.

She opens her arms for you, you pull her to sit up, gently squeezing her in the hug. You can feel her shaky breath on your shoulder, you rub her back.

“You’ve been here the entire time?” She asks, voice hoarse.

“Yes,” You pull away, touching her cheek, “I tried to make them wait for you, but Plutarch said it was too risky. I tried.”

“I believe you.” She gives you a small smile, but it vanishes soon after. “I missed you.”

“I fought for you everyday.” You tell her, “I’m never letting you do that ever again, Johanna.”

You guide her face to you, so that you’re able to press your lips against hers.

When you pull away, you’re able to watch the tears trickle out from the corners of her eyes. You cup her face with both hands, using your thumbs to carefully rub the tears from her eyes.

“Every last one of them will pay, my darling. I’ll make sure of it.”

#ilguna #johanna mason #johanna mason imagine #johanna mason fanfic #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason oneshot #johanna mason x you #johanna mason x yn #johanna mason x y/n #johanna imagine #johanna fanfic #johanna oneshot #johanna x reader #johanna x you #johanna x yn #johanna x y/n #thg #the hunger games #requested #angst

[ilguna]

☼ popcorn kernels (Johanna Mason) ☼

summary; Johanna takes you to the drive-in to spend more time with you.

warnings; swearing,

wc; 1.2k

notes: modern au!

–

“Johanna, you really are terrible at making popcorn.” You tell her, digging through the bag. The bottom has so many kernels that you wouldn’t even think she cooked it if it weren’t for the popcorn on top.

“(Y/n).” She swats at your hands, tired of your judgement. “That’s for the movie, knock it off!”

“How long did you put it in the microwave for? An hour?” You laugh, pulling out a burnt piece. “How did you manage to burn half and not cook the other?”

“If you’re going to complain, you don’t have to have any.”

You reach back in to grab a kernel, rolling it back and forth between your fingers. A bad idea comes to mind, and you can’t help the smile that comes over your face. You pop it in your mouth, and turn your body to face Johanna, shooting it at the side of her neck.

Johanna slams on the breaks, forcing you to catch yourself on the dash. You let out a choked noise, trying not to laugh at her reaction. She clenches her jaw, picking off the wet kernel from where it’s stuck to her neck, and rolls down the window. She slowly turns to glare at you, flicking it out the window.

You sputter out a laugh.

“Put the bag of popcorn away or I’m going to strangle you.”

“Fine.” You zip the bag up, placing it back with the other snacks she bought earlier.

“Thank you.” She eyes you, making sure you have nothing else planned.

She pulls the car forward to the booth, where you two need to buy tickets. She turns and gives the lady a smile. The lady smiles back, “Hi, what can I do for you two tonight?”

“Two tickets to Safe and Sound, please.” Johanna pulls her card out of her wallet, holding it out with two fingers.

It’s not often you and Johanna go on dates together, because of your conflicting interests and idea of fun. For her, she doesn’t necessarily like to go out and have a nice dinner. The whole point of dressing up to go out, just to take it off when you get home is a little beside her. As for you, it’s the time spent together, and not having to worry about cooking your own meal. Instead, you can devote that time to asking about what she’s been up to when you’re not there.

This doesn’t mean that she doesn’t like to go out and enjoy other activities, though. She just likes to make it an all-day trip, rather than just a few hours, to maximize time spent together. Which can be nice sometimes, but other times your social battery is sensitive, and there’s only so much you can handle.

She’ll take you anywhere you ask. You could plan a trip to a neighboring city for the day, and she’d try to clear her entire schedule to make it work for you. And to compromise, you have an open mind when she plans day dates, because you know she’s sacrificed her time, where she’d likely rather be doing anything else.

There’s nothing you haven’t done yet. You’ve gone to plenty of movies, whether it be drive-in or theaters. You’ve seen musical theater, too actually. You’ve gone to amusement parks, concerts and comedy shows. She’s taken you to the beach, park picnics, and window shopping.

This time, she’s decided to take you back to the drive-in theater because your guys’ favorite movie is being featured this week. You watch Safe and Sound at least once a week, and sometimes you’re watching it in the background while doing other things, but other times you’ll sit down and watch it.

It’s one of those movies that you can’t get sick of. You will say though, if you and Johanna ever do break up, you won’t be able to watch the movie ever again without thinking about her. You found this movie with her, which means it’ll be left with her.

“You two are all set!” The lady chirps, “You’ll be screen seven, and on the receipt is the station you’ll tune into. Enjoy!”

“Thank you.” Johanna smiles, beginning to drive away.

She rolls up her window, sitting up in the seat as she starts looking at the signs to make sure you’re heading in the right direction. This drive-in has nine screens, and it’s still fairly popular, despite an actual movie theater being preferred these days because of the air conditioning and the seats.

You and Johanna like it because it’s generally more intimate. You don’t have to worry about disturbing others when you speak during a quiet part of the movie. And you’re able to sit on your phone when you get to the slow part of the movie. With tickets being cheap, you don’t have to worry about wasted money.

“We should’ve come sooner.” Johanna murmurs, making a face, “It’s so dark already.”

“Yup.” You look out the window. “I guess I was right then, huh?”

“You did not tell me we should leave early.” She says.

“You said that last time, too.” You let out a laugh, “It’s okay Johanna, maybe we’ll come early next time so we’re not blinding the other cars when we back in.”

“(Y/n), stop.” Johanna shakes her head, “I forgot about that part.”

You smile to yourself. You have this argument every time, and every time she swears that it'll be the last time you show up after the daylight’s gone, because her headlights have a vendetta against others. They’re automatic, which means that sometimes, when you’re surrounded by darkness, they’ll turn on the brights to help out.

Johanna can’t figure out how to turn off the automatic setting. It never works.

Johanna follows the road to the seventh screen, where you’re able to see that the lot is half full. You sink in your seat, trying to hide from the windows. She briefly glares in your direction.

“Don’t do that.”

“It’s too late.” You tell her, taking off the seatbelt as you try to make home on the floor, “You’re on your own.”

“No, I need you to spot me.”

“It’s not happening.”

“I fucking hate you.” She sighs, you watch as her hands reach to mess with the headlights. You press your lips together. “I don’t understand.”

“I can pull out the manual.”

“We are definitely not doing that.” She tells you, “Just be quiet down there if you’re not going to be helpful.”

“That was helpful!” You laugh. “I have an idea, how about you just turn off your headlights entirely?”

Johanna’s fingers pause, “That might work.”

“Just don’t run over anyone.”

“If I do, I promise it won’t be on purpose.” 

Johanna finds a nice space to pull into, and gives you the clear on when you can get up from the floor. You immediately start pulling the snacks and drinks from the backseat to the front. You drape a blanket over your lap, watching as Johanna sends her seat flying into the backward so she has more leg room.

“Give me the popcorn.” She holds out her hand.

You pull out both bags and drop them on her lap, “Sure.”

“You’re so ungrateful.”

“No, my standards are higher than yours.” You snort, “You know what, give me a bag, actually.”

She squints at you suspiciously, “No.”

#ilguna #johanna mason #johanna mason imagine #johanna mason fanfic #johanna mason oneshot #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason x yn #johanna mason x y/n #johanna mason x you #johanna imagine #johanna fanfic #johanna oneshot #johanna x reader #johanna x you #johanna x yn #johanna x y/n #thg #the hunger games #requested #fluff

[ilguna]

☼ deadly pt4 (Johanna Mason) ☼

summary; you and Johanna join the star squad to invade the Capitol.

warnings; swearing, death mention

wc; 2k

part one, part two, part three.

–

“Do you have anything brighter?” You ask, face twisting at the sight of the flowers, “Or light? I was thinking white, pink, yellow…” 

The clerk’s eye twitches, clearly done with you and your specific request that he’s been working on for the past thirty minutes. There’s not a doubt in your mind that he’s just throwing together shit to get you out of here faster.

“Miss, if you had preordered a bouquet—” He begins, impatience shining through.

You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes, “Yes, I know. You’d be able to meet my needs because you would’ve been able to order the flowers from a different district, and all that bullshit. I’ve heard it from the six other flower shops I’ve been to in the past week.”

He stares at you, probably deciding if this is worth it or not. He takes in a breath, “So why are you here, if you know that I don’t have what you need?”

“Because it’s urgent.” You tell him.

“Well, let’s hear it, then.” He crosses his arms.

“I don’t have time for that.” You shake your head.

He makes a face, tilting his head, “If your story’s good enough, I’ll pull the flowers from the other preordered bouquet’s, but I doubt you’ll be able to convince me.”

You let out a scoff, “All due respect, do you even know who I am?”

He looks you up and down, “Should I?”

“My name is (Y/n) (L/n), I’m a victor—was. I was a victor of the Hunger Games.” You begin, watching the wrinkles smooth from his face. The smug look is gone, “A few weeks ago it was the tenth anniversary of Johanna’s Games. And today marks ten years since Snow killed her entire family. I need flowers.”

“How many?” He asks, “How big are you thinking?”

“I have four tall and skinny vases, I can’t fit more than a few stems in each of them.” 

He nods, turning around to leave the counter. You can’t help the small smile that crosses over your face. Finally, luck is on your side. You thought that you were going to be fucked. Of course, Johanna wouldn���t have known the difference if you didn’t show up with them, especially since you’ve got a load of other gifts that would take away from it.

You would know. She might not care, but you always have.

In the span of fifteen minutes, he’s able to put a bouquet together for you, helping you pick out the bright flowers, and telling you the meaning behind them. White lilies, pink carnations, white orchids, yellow tulips. He tells you why they’re important for the message you’re sending, but the gist is that they’re to offer support.

You compensate him greatly for the flowers, and the fact that they’re coming from other customers. He tells you to come back anytime you need, and to tell Johanna that he’s sorry for her loss. You wave goodbye, and then start the long journey back to your house in Victor’s Village to gather everything else you’ve bought in the past week.

You’ve had to throw together a gift basket—you can’t even call it that because half of what you’ve gotten wouldn’t even fit in a basket—at the last minute. You weren’t going to do this for her originally, since the two of you are still far from being friends. You might be neighbors, but that doesn’t mean you go out of your way to figure out what’s going on with her.

The details you do get about her are from people who don’t even live in District Seven, like Finnick. The two of them talk frequently enough that he knows way more about her than you do at this point. Which was upsetting at first, because you used to be the first person she would go to if she had something to say, and now you can’t even look her in the eye without feeling guilty.

However, it had been a few months since you last talked to Finnick. He’s dealing with his own kids and Annie, and you’re beginning to pick up more projects in Seven to feel useful. You can’t sit around for the rest of your life, as much as you wish your mind would let you. 

Finnick sent you a letter a week ago, though. It was a couple pages long, and at first, it started with him telling you about what he’s been up to, and how Annie’s doing. He doesn’t bother with the Katniss updates anymore, considering she and Prim regularly keep up with you, as if you’re their own sister.

The more you continued to read, you began to realize that it wasn’t him trying to catch you up to speed with his life. It quickly transitioned into concern about Johanna and what she’s been up to. Apparently, she’s been expressing some concerning thoughts about herself and what she’s been through in the Capitol, knowing full well that Finnick can’t drop everything and save her. Even if he wanted to, he’s got other responsibilities now.

You almost sent back a letter telling him that it wasn’t your problem anymore. The day you broke up with Johanna was probably the best decision to make at that time. You’ll admit that you did regret doing it so harshly without thinking it through, but it took a lot of time to work through the anger that you felt towards her.

If the two of you had stayed together, you’re sure you would’ve ended up miserable.

You didn’t send Finnick the letter. Instead, you did some digging to find out why Johanna might be feeling this way, in the middle of summer, of all seasons. It’s the one time of year that she used to feel so bouncy and energetic during. She likes the heat, and being outside, and the breeze on her face. She’s all about being productive, so for her mood to take a twist like this was concerning for you, too.

When you found out that it was a couple of important anniversaries, you dropped all plans to organize this.

When you finally get back to your house, you have to find every bag of Johanna’s new belongings, pulling all of them onto your arms and carrying them next door. You knock on her front door a few times, waiting for her to answer it. After the fifth time, you realize that she’s not going to let you in.

You purse your lips, unhappy. You should’ve guessed that she wouldn’t answer the door if she’s feeling like this. You know how she feels about people showing up unannounced. Unfortunately, she’s going to have a bigger problem on her hands, because you’re not going home.

You do the irresponsible thing, and check to make sure her door is unlocked. It turns without issue, the door swings open slowly, letting out a creak because of the old hinges. You stand on the porch for another few seconds, staring into the abyss that’s Johanna’s home. You’re not sure how she navigates this place without any lights.

Either way, you step inside, leaving the door open for some light while you walk into her kitchen. Once every bag is on the counter and shows no threat of rolling off, you walk away. While heading to the front door, you open all the blinds, flipping open the locks and pushing up the windows to get some airflow through the house.

It doesn’t smell that bad, luckily, but the air is heavier.

You shut the front door, heading back into the kitchen. Before you can start with what you’ve planned, you go and clean the dishes in her sink, setting it on the drying rack when you’re done. Then, you rinse out the vases, cut the end of the stems of the flowers, fill the vases with water, and place the pre-arranged bouquets in each of the vases.

They smell beautiful.

You place one in front of the window in the kitchen, and place the last three in front of the windows in the living room, and one by the front door’s window sill. Immediately, the room feels lighter because of the color, and the fact that there’s flowers in here. You knew that there would be a difference. 

Back in the kitchen, you pull out all of Johanna’s baking supplies, taking your time cleaning out the pie pan, the rolling pin, the whisk, and every other possible thing you’ll need. With still no sign of her, you go ahead and make the pie, place it in the oven, and clean the dishes.

While you wait for it to bake, you arrange the few baskets that you did buy, into categories. In the first one, you’ve got all of—what used to be—Johanna’s favorite bathroom products, at least when you knew her. Her favorite scented shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and shaving cream. You’ve got a new toothbrush, toothpaste, a set of bathroom rags and soft towels. 

For the second basket, it’s things she’d want in her bedroom, like a whole new comforter set, and a few soft pillows to use. You also neatly fold clothes for the summer, stuffing them into the limited space you have. Shirts, shorts, jeans, tank tops, shoes, hats. 

You move the baskets to the dining room table, which is right in front of the stairs. This is when you decide to move one of the vases onto the table, because it’ll look nicer than in front of the windows. 

The timer goes off for the pie, so you return back to the kitchen to pull it out of the oven to cool. While you wait, you make the lemonade into a pitcher, and bring two glasses to the table, setting them down. Finally, you make the cold-cut sandwiches, placing them neatly onto a tray, alongside some fresh fruit and vegetables that you got today from the market.

And tonight, when it’s time for dinner, you’ll make her the same meal her mom used to make her on her birthdays.

When you come back into the dining room to set the food onto the table, you nearly jump out of your skin at the sight of Johanna standing on the stairs. You don’t look at her until the food is on the table.

Her lips are pressed together, eyebrows drawn in. You think she’s scowling at you at first, because she has all the reason to. You haven’t spoken to her in months, broke into her house, opened her blinds, and made food for yourself and her, and you didn’t even ask ahead of time.

Johanna’s hair has grown out since the last time you saw her. Ever since her time in the Capitol, she’s kept her hair pretty short, not wanting to grow it out any further. Now, it seems that it’s grown to the same length it was before the Quarter Quell. The only thing she’s missing is the dyed streak.

You watch as her bottom lip juts out suddenly, her eyes fluttering. She covers her mouth with her hand, shaking her head. You can see the tears begin to run down her face.

You start walking to her, arms out, “Come here, Johanna.”

She doesn’t argue, coming down the last couple of steps. You wrap your arms around her tightly, letting her sob into your shoulder. You can feel her tears on your skin.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask, placing a hand on the back of her head, “You know I would’ve been there for you.”

“I was scared.” She admits through tears, “I didn’t want you to send me away.”

“I’m here for you, Johanna.” You lean your head against her, “The last thing I want is to lose you, even if we’re not talking.

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