This story takes place about ¾ of the way through the second book (Catching Fire), when Katniss and Johanna are standing watch on the island. This is my first fanfic.
I can tell that Johanna hasn't taken the news of Mags' death lightly. In fact, she seems to hold it against me, as if it's my fault that Finnick's mentor is gone forever. I wonder then why she even values an alliance with me in the first place – values it enough to risk her life in keeping Beetee and Wiress, my chosen allies, alive for me.
I gaze into the jungle as I try to work out my relationship with Johanna. Obviously there isn't really much of one at this point, but that doesn't explain the obvious loathing that she seems to hold toward me. The way she's treated me ever since we met outside the elevator in the Training Center. She seemed interested in me, yet somehow removed. And then when she stripped in front of me inside the elevator… Why do I keep thinking about that? I was offended by her display, but why did it make me so uncomfortable? I play the elevator ride back in my head. Johanna telling me that she wanted to tear the dress I wore on my tour of District Two off of me, then letting her own clothing drop to the floor. Her strong thighs, the way the light reflected off her bare breasts…
"Some lookout you are," Johanna's voice cuts into my daydream and I give a start. How long has she been watching me? "You've spent the last several minutes with your eyes glazed over." I guess that answers my question. " It's a good thing there are two of us awake. What were you dreaming about anyway? Your lover boy?" I choose to ignore her question.
"How have you been keeping watch if you were staring at me the whole time?" It seems I've put Johanna on the spot now. Her cheeks flush and she seems about to say something, but thinks better of it and turns to walk back to her side of the camp. "Wait," I find myself whispering. For some reason, I would rather have her keep me company. "Actually, I was dreaming about you," I say a little louder. That stops her right away. She seems hesitant to turn back to me, however, and ends up finding a seat on a patch of sand about an arm's length to my right. She looks out into the jungle for a moment, as if she's gone back to helping me keep watch. And then her gaze shifts toward me and I catch her eye.
It's immediate, the rush of feelings that overtakes me when our eyes meet. It's almost entirely physical, a mixture of longing and hopelessness, and I can hardly control the small gasp that escapes my lips. I realize that this is the first time we've actually really looked one another in the face, and this is the closest I've been to her since that elevator ride.
"I've been thinking about you, too," she says, only now her words aren't laced with venom. Her voice reminds me of the young girl that she appeared as in the game that she won years ago, only she isn't faking this time.
"Johanna-" she cuts me off by placing her hand over my lips. For a second I think she must be warning me of something in the jungle, and I listen carefully, but there is nothing but the gentle lapping of waves on the beach. Then she slowly removes her hand from my mouth, and leans in to replace it with her lips. My body responds with fireworks. It's like I've never been kissed before, and my mouth is automatically kissing back, my tongue longing for more. I want to let her inside of me. Somehow, this doesn't surprise me. Her lithe body melts against mine, and we fall backward together until I am laying with my back on the sand and her on top of me. She starts to get up, and before I can think about what I'm doing, I pull her back onto me. I want this. I need her to know that I want this.
"I want you" I let out. That's enough to convince her to keep going. Her warm hands are under my undergarments, reaching around my back, her left holding me close to her body, while her right fumbles to remove my undershirt. I kiss her neck and get a strong whiff of pine. The scent of her homeland must have stayed in her hair, and as I'm finding her lips again, I am calmed by the thought of fresh air and beautiful trees.
She manages to remove my shirt, but stops there and instead focuses on my mouth again. We are embraced in the most passionate kiss, and her fingers stroke my hair. Then I feel her let up, and she separates her mouth from mine.
"Is this okay?" She whispers, and my heart melts. Here is Johanna Mason, the wicked killer from District 7, the unstoppable woman who wields axes and kills without a second thought, and she wants to make sure that I am completely comfortable as she romances me in the middle of the battlefield. I don't know what to say besides "yes," so I take her hand and guide it between my legs. Then I begin to work off her undergarments, so I can show her what I want her to do to me.
She locks her lips back onto mine and her hand comes away from me for a moment. She breaks the kiss just long enough to put her fingers in her mouth and wet them with a generous amount of saliva. Then her hand returns to my vagina and her wet fingers separate the lips and glide in a circle, close enough to tease, but never actually touching my now throbbing clitoris. We can both feel how wet my vagina is at this point, and her fingers circle once more before plunging in. She pumps two fingers in and out of me, and my hips buck as I ride her hand closer and closer to oblivion –
And then we are interrupted by a soft "plop". A silver parachute has hit me square in the forehead, and it falls next to my naked thigh on the sand as I am reminded that we are being broadcast on live television. Johanna pulls her fingers out of me to pick up the long, slender package, and I let out a prolonged groan in disapproval. I don't care that my naked body, my erect nipples, my longing for Johanna are all being observed by the world right now. I don't care that there are sponsors watching us. I just want Johanna inside me. I want her to bring me to orgasm after endless orgasm. My hands work their way between her legs while she is preoccupied with opening the package, and I find her beautiful, delicious mound with my mouth. I have never done this with anyone before, but instinct kicks in, and I just let my tongue do what it wants. I coat my fingertips in saliva and move the lips of Johanna's pussy out of the way, uncovering her slit, which is nearly leaking fluid, a sign that she wants me just as much as I want her. My tongue runs up it, and I can taste her tanginess before the tip of my tongue stops gently at her small, plump clit. Then I stiffen the strong muscle of my tongue and glide it straight into her hole, opening my mouth to give my tongue length, and burying my face in the soft expanse of her womanhood. I pump in and out a few times before I hear her let out a moan and feel her body relax into the sand. Whatever Haymitch sent us can wait. I continue to pump my tongue in and out of Johanna and bring my wet fingertips to her clit, gently squeezing the soft pink mass. The instant my fingers touch her clit she lets out a long, low moan, and involuntarily bucks her hips a little. My mouth keeps working on her warm vagina for another minute, while she moans some more, and then I come up for air and let my hand move from her clit to where my mouth had been. She is nearly screaming in ecstasy as I finish her off, pumping my fingers in and out while I massage her clit with my thumb.
I watch her face as the orgasm overcomes her, and then my gaze moves to the object she's holding in her fist. The gift from my sponsors, sent by Haymitch. I don't believe my eyes. It's a dildo. Not just a dildo, but a strap-on with a harness and all. Johanna sits up and looks from me to the strap-on in her hand. My body is still longing from the teasing that she gave me before we were interrupted, and it's obvious what I want her to do.
She straps the leather belt around her waist as I look on. My pussy is throbbing again, and I can't wait for her to satisfy me. What a strange gift, especially since what I'm doing with Johanna right now certainly goes against everything that I was pretending to have with Peeta. To the capitol, Johanna and I are engaging in lustful fun, but to the districts, this is even more fuel for revolution – it's proof that the whole Peeta thing was an act. I can't give it much more serious thought at the moment though, because my lady parts are screaming out for Johanna. While she is fumbling with the harness around her waist, I spread my legs in anticipation. It's everything I can do to not finish myself off right now. She finally gets everything in place, and crawls toward me, the erect penis bouncing between her thighs.
I lean back and she leans with me, guiding the tip of the dildo with her hand. The material is slick, some sort of rubber that stays slippery without lubricant. I silently thank the scientists who came up with it. The shaft is warm and Johanna gently lowers it in until it fills me entirely. I let out a gasp as she moves it in and out, slowly at first, and then with a bit more speed. Her pelvis crashes into mine over and over, exciting my clit and making it yearn for more. I can feel the orgasm slowly working up inside of me. Soon I get to the point where I can't help but let out a moan on every stroke that enters me. My moans get louder and I feel myself getting closer, then Johanna pulls the dildo out for the last time and lowers her mouth onto my clit, sucking it in and massaging the throbbing bit heavily with her tongue. And then I let go completely, and all of the feelings overcome me until I am screaming. Johanna collapses onto me and I relax in her embrace. When they wake up the others will find us, naked and entwined in one another's arms, but that's not something I care to think about right now.
Instead, I think about all the questions that have just been answered for me. Why I never wanted to get to close to Gale or Peeta, why the kisses I shared with them never felt like they meant anything. Why Johanna acted so strangely around me before, and why I had never been able to shake the image of her naked in the elevator. I am still in the middle of a battlefield, but somehow answering these questions about myself has lifted a weight off my chest, and with that stress removed, I lay my head in the crook of Johanna's shoulder and drift off to sleep.