Summary: The Hunger Games were a place of blood, death, and misery. A place where you know your death was inevitable, unless you were a Career. Not a place for ridiculous love triangles and forced kisses. But obviously, Marvel and Cato did not understand that. At least to Katniss they didn't.

Rated: M slightly in this chapter, because Cato and Marvel have sick fantasies.

A/N: Can anybody recommend a Cato/Katniss or Marvel/Katniss fic to me? One that is smiliar to mine, as in Katniss is unwilling and is a complete spitfire?

I need to get hype again.


Cato was leaned back against the tree base of a tree that was opposite of Katniss's, sitting down his blue eyes staring at Katniss while his hands occupied themselves by sharpening his swords with the tip of a sharp rock.

He eyes were trained on the sleeping girl in the tree, but he was very far from actually noticing her current state.

She wouldn't know it, but right now Cato was hard. It wasn't exactly something he could help, the fire in her eyes were just so fucking arousing, he couldn't help but think of them in every moment of freetime that he had.

Cato could just imagine it, his strong body pinning her small, dirty one, the fire in her eyes slowly breaking at the sight of him. She'd have bruises and cuts from putting up a fight, and she would squirm helplessly underneath him.

She'd know she was done for, but Katniss would continue to struggle cause that was just her thing. It was what Cato loved and it riled him up. He would cut her clothes open and shred them to pieces, so that she can't ever put them back on if she ever escapes, which she won't Cato is sure.

He'd torture her slowly, rubbing everywhere and anywhere, relishing her screams of both pain and pleasure. He'd lick, and suck and finally he would plunge deep into her making her yell so loudly her voice would be hoarse.

But in due time she will enjoy it, she'll be begging and screaming in ecstasy. Yelling his name over and over again in intoxicated pleasure.

Cato bit back a groan and fidgeted placing the rock down and getting up. He needed to walk this off. Deciding he'll just walk around the tree area and 'secure the perimeter' once or twice, he'll wake up Marvel for his shift and he can dream of fucking Katniss all night long.


In his sleep, Marvel's eyebrows furrow and he has a slight frown. He tosses and turns, before finally settling in with his back facing the fire and his fellow Careers (and Peeta of course).

"Katniss?" Marvel questions quizzically, the sounds of people dying and screaming suddenly gone and now it was only him and her in front of the Cornucopia. Only, although it looked like Katniss, Marvel could tell it wasn't really her.

Her eyes were burning, but not to the extent of the real one, and they were burning with not of defiance and fierceness that Marvel had grown used to, but of love and lust. And Marvel was sure Katniss would never willingly present herself to him wearing only a skimpy green (his favorite color) bra and matching panties.

"Hi Marvel." She says seductively, her voice dropped low, his name rolling off her tongue like honey.

Marvel gulps and he feels himself getting hard, "What are you doing here?" He asks, stepping closer to her.

"Oh nothing," She replies, eyelashes fluttering innocently, "Looking for you." Suddenly she is only a millimeter away from him, dragging her finger down from his chest to dangerously near his manhood.

She motions for him to come closer, and Marvel unconsciously lowers his head down until his ear is fanned by the warm breath of Katniss, making him shiver in delight. "Do you want to have a little fun Marvel?"

He didn't have to answer, without warning he smashes his lips onto hers and he feels her slip her tongue into his mouth, tracing sinful patterns inside. He groans into her and pulls her waist to him, feeling her legs wrap around his abdomen. He slams her back onto the metal surface of the Cornucopia and the two continued to play tonsil hockey right there in the arena.

Marvel slips his hands behind her back, trying to unclasp her bra as he starts to grow even harder than he thought possible. She rakes his hands through his hair and swirls circles around his back, pushing her chest up for better access and Marvel hears the click of the unclasped. He grins and reaches down-

"-arvel! Marvel!" Marvel lets out a groan and his eyes flutter open. He groans again at the boner he had and he flips himself over to have his green eyes lock themselves in Cato's blue ones. "Wake up retard, it's your shift."

Marvel narrows his sleepy eyes at him and rubs his eyes. "And you were muttering in your sleep stupid, about something about a stupid bra."

Marvel sits up straight and facepalms. "Cato, I was-"

"I don't want to hear about your wet dreams Marvel."

Marvel glares at his back as he plops down into his own sleeping area and cracks his neck. "Sweet dreams," Marvel sneers mockingly, only to have him flip him off. Cato really gets on his nerves sometimes.

As he sniffles and gets up, he doesn't realize Cato hasn't even tried to fall asleep. Instead Cato's eyes are cold and hard, glaring at the tree base in front of him. Marvel wasn't just whispering about some stupid bra. No. Cato thought he heard something along the lines of his property. Something along the lines of, Katniss.


Short, but very... disturbing. I should change the rating later on, because it'll probably get a little limey...

Review my lovelies!