Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision
Option B
By: KaKaVegeGurl
Author's Note:
Hey, hey everyone!
How has ya'll's weekends been so far? Enjoying the lack of things to do? Gosh, I wish I could have some of that. XP
Despite not having werk anymore, I'm still busy as hell. Heh, writing nonstop rly, playing games with TristAn, watching serieses and movies. _
So, guess what's in four days? Huh? Hmm? My birthday. XP Yeah, no kidding. July 14th.
And guess what's in 5 days? Ah, yes, yes, HP 7 Part 2. Ahh... nothing like HP coming out fer my birthday. It's not the first time, not the first time at all. ^^
You all going to see it? I hope so. And have any of you heard of The Potter Games? No? Look into it, it might interest you.
Other then that, nothing else to report. Oh, yes as hell there is. I'm an AUNT! No freaking kidding. My bro's gf had her baby. Another Cancerian like me, win. XP
And yes, that really is it now.
Thank you all fer coming back, enjoying the story, enjoying the options. And reading all of them, some of you are tards, I swear. XP
Love you all anyways tho, have a nice steaming cup of yaoi and enjoy! And I'll see you fer Chapter 3, Option C on Wednesday!
~KaKaVegeGurl (A)
Review Response:
To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love...
Sam: "I always respond. XP And aww, yer comment made me blush a little. I get high praise often, but it never stops getting old. Gosh, that sounded conceited. Well, I'm not lying. T_T I always thought that Peeta would handle demands so much better then Katniss, so I tried to think of some good ones... right on the spot too. _ And I had to add in some Finnick, do expect more. Along with Chaff, Haymitch, you know. I'll try to keep it linear."
Side Notes:
A new age of reason.
Brain treason, to trick the mind.
What good is searching,
If nothing's there to find?
We arrive at this place,
Of no return my brothers.
Only to discover that our minds have led us away,
So far from the painful truth,
Of who we are.
What's right is wrong.
What's come has gone.
What's clear and pure is not so sure.
It came to me.
All promises become a lie.
All that's benign corrupts in time.
If it's real for me, do I have to prove it to you?
Why do revelations fade to cold blue untruths?
It's oh-so relative.
Subservient in total to one's perspective.
Chapter 3 - Like Hunger
She looks best like this. She looks amazing underneath me, screaming, struggling, and afraid. She looks right.
I can't stop the thoughts, I can't help feeling like I should be enjoying this. It's... it's always been like this, hasn't it? There's no way I could've missed it.
I could've just... just ignored how aroused I was, because I was afraid she'd die.
It was Cato, not me. That's the part that was disappointing. How could I not have seen it before? I want to do these things to her.
The feelings I had when I pleasured her, when I made her feel good, they were nothing compared to this.
I stare up, stare so hard into her horror-filled eyes, rubbing myself out until I'm exhausted, and I just can't do it anymore. And despite the pleasure, and sensitivity, I can't help feeling like something's missing.
It's not really her, I remind myself, it's still not really her.
The only time I'll feel anything completely and utterly satisfying is when I'm back with her. When it's just me and her, and not this stupid video screen showing me what I want.
I've done up my pants, I've made myself comfortable now that the video is off and the overwhelming urge to do... other things has went away.
The screams from the room beside mine has stopped now, I can only guess that Darius is dead, that he's finally, finally, not being tortured.
It's completely quiet, unusually quiet, since I can almost hear the whistle building in my ear as something else becomes apparent. There's no screaming, no video, no reason for me to be here alone. Where are the Peacekeepers?
I'm glad I've calmed down and taken care of my clothes though, because the door suddenly bursts open and a small can is thrown in.
I have a second to look at it before it explodes and the room fills with gas. I have less time then that to breathe it in and annoyance fills me because: it's knock out gas.
And I'm knocked out.
Sounds fill my ears at last as I wake up from the dead sleep I was forced into, and I'm seated upward as someone flashes a bright, blinding light into my eye.
There's pressure on my hand and I look down as another person is... checking my pulse, I think.
I look up from that as I hear some sort of commotion ahead, and my eyes immediately meet Katniss's.
The only set of eyes that matter anything to me at all. And ever have.
I stand up, shoving the doctors away as my heart fills with adoration and comfort at the sight of her.
She runs, directly in a bee line, until she's just steps away from me.
I move forward, grab her up into my arms, swinging her around to slow the momentum, and squeeze her tightly, as tight as I can, until her sobbing settles down.
"Peeta," she's breathing, surprised, overwhelmed, "Oh, Peeta."
"I know," I whisper into her hair, refusing to take my arms from her, "I know, it's alright, Katniss."
She laughs, crying while she does it and pulls away to look at me, "I'm so... I'm so..."
I grin at her, lean in and press my lips flush against her own. She doesn't have to say a single word. I'm so overwhelmed myself, kissing is the only thing I think I can do at this point to express how happy and pleased I am.
Katniss kisses back, excited, hands burying themselves in my hair, eyes squeezing shut so tight, because when I open my own to stare at her, I can see that she looks like she's in pain.
At ease now, I break the kiss and press my forehead to her's, "You don't have to explain, Katniss. I know."
She smiles wide, the corners of her mouth nearly reaching her ears and she hugs me again.
The doctors finish checking me over and release me at last.
Haymitch joins me as we walk, keeping me up to speed on District Thirteen. It's overwhelming after a while and I just raise my hand at last to quiet him.
"Haymitch," I say, head pounding in ache, "I'll listen to it later, I'm exhausted right now. I don't really want to talk about anything."
He grins, nods, and then lets Katniss and I walk alone together.
"Do you want to sleep?" She asks softly, "You're probably tired."
"Not really," I explain, "I slept some there, but I'd really just like to lay down or something, talk with you."
Katniss reaches over and grabs my hand in hers, "We can do that."
We don't really talk much more as we walk though, not until we're down in her quarters, where she pulls me onto the bed with her.
After she's laid down, I plant myself firmly, laying my head in her lap and taking her legs in my arms.
Her hands run through my hair as I stare across to the door.
We're both silent, even then, just laying comfortably with each other. I'm not tired, honest, but it's so comfortable, so ideal. This beats the cold ground or that board bed any day.
Katniss's fingers trace through my hair, line my brows, caress my cheek, and finally she says something first. "They never once showed you, I was so terrified that they'd killed you without ever saying a thing."
I nod, silent, but I should say something.
"I thought they'd at least interview you, make me even more worried that way, show the effect of what they were doing or something, at least something to show me that they were making you feel awful."
"I convinced Snow that you weren't important, that I was the 'Mockingjay'," I explain at last, "I think he might've given me the opportunity to talk on screen, if I hadn't done that. He seemed to want something of the sort. But changed his mind."
Katniss stays silent then, for a while, and then she asks: "I don't know if I want to know what they did to you."
"You might," I respond softly, "First, they were trying to convince me that you were a Mutt."
"What?" She asks in surprise.
I turn my head up from her lap to look into her wide eyes, "They tried to make me think that you were some sort of Mutt, and that you didn't care about me, not really. But it didn't work. They kept trying though, trying to manipulate memories. I got so angry once that I just... I just lost it. I think I killed some of their Peacekeepers, but I can't remember much."
Katniss frowns at this, her eyes watering, "Oh, Peeta."
"How they made me feel about you," I say, sitting up to touch her face, "It... it wasn't right. They did something to me, and it horrified me. I couldn't control myself."
She nods, she thinks she understands but I can't bring myself to explain it. How can I tell her what I'd done?
I'd... I'd enjoyed it, at first. I'd honestly enjoyed it. How can I tell her that?
"And the two Avoxes," I start explaining, licking my lips, "I know it was just some ploy to get under my skin, what they did to Darius and Lavinia. I... I don't want to think about it."
She nods again, brushing my cheek and kissing me, "Don't then, you don't have to, just lay down."
I do, I lay down, this time facing her stomach. Her lap is still warm from my head before and I allow my free left arm to trace up her right side.
We're both silent again and I move my hand to smooth over her stomach.
"You're getting bigger."
She laughs softly as I lift her shirt and start to kiss the skin underneath it, her slightly swollen belly, protruding now in an obviously pregnant way.
"No woman has ever looked more beautiful," I find myself saying, wanting to express my adoration, "I can't explain what you look like to me, Katniss. You just look beautiful. And that's too simple."
Pregnancy should always look so healthy, it doesn't look bothered. She's practically glowing. Life is growing inside of her. And there's nothing more beautiful then that.
I kiss up her stomach so much that I have to push her shirt over her breasts and she raises her arms to take it off.
It works for me. I grab her body and pull her down more, onto the bed completely, her head resting against the pillows instead of her back. I unclasp her bra with my hand firmly pressed against the sheets below her frame and remove it.
"Peeta," she breathes as I lower myself over her.
But as I move to kiss her flesh, an image of what I've been subjected to for the past few days flashes over my mind. Grabbing her body, forcing her, squeezing her chest, despite how fragile and soft they are.
I stop, looking up at her in fear, afraid she's seen it too, but she just looks at me in confusion.
"Why did you stop?" She asks.
I shake my head, trying to clear it and move on.
She lets out another gasp as I bite down softly on her right breast, pulling it between my teeth, running my tongue over it.
Another image flashes this time, as I look up at her from where I am. Instead of moaning, enjoying what I'm doing, she's got tears streaming down her cheeks, and she's upset. She's struggling to stop me.
I can't help the excitement, the adrenaline rush that courses, the tightening in my pants as I imagine her disagreeing with what I'm doing.
This time though, I can't shake the image. I can't stop her from looking like that. I almost... almost don't want to.
I continue being gentle though, taking her other breast in my palm, but it becomes more annoying then anything to pretend that this is what I want. This isn't what I've wanted, ever. How could anyone find something so simple so exciting?
She opens her eyes to look at me in horror as I grab her wrists, kiss her so hard that it bruises. She even struggles, she doesn't like it at all. But I do.
I'm annoyed at the buttons on my shirt, so I rip it open instead, the buttons tearing and dropping over the sheets of the bed. I toss the ruined shirt to the ground and drop my hand to her pants to unbutton them.
"Peeta?" She asks in concern.
I ignore her though, remove the pants from her legs, complete with underwear as well, and begin to take off my own.
She's staring up at me in surprise as I push her legs open wide and lower my hips against hers, but it's not nearly... still not nearly as exciting as I want it to be. I have to do something more, I have to really bother her.
I reach my hand up and close it over her neck, if there's anything that can stop her want from showing, it's attempting to harm her.
She struggles against me finally, hands reaching up, grabbing at my own to try and stop me, to try and breathe. But I tighten my hold.
"Peeta, stop!" Her eyes, wide in fear, and her nails scrape across the skin of my forearm, drawing blood. She's trying to get completely free now, moving her legs, moving her body back against the bed until she knees me in the stomach.
I grab her leg, push it out of the way, but her arms are shoving at my chest, trying to push me away, trying to get free.
"Peeta," She breathes as I let her neck go, she's crying, sobbing, shoving against me, so completely afraid.
But when she tries to get off of the bed to get away from me, I grab her back down and force her underneath me again. After all of that effort, I'm not going to let her get away.
I struggle against her but she opens her mouth to scream and I can't stop her, so instead, I slam my fist down hard against her cheek to shut her up, and even then she doesn't. So I hit her again. I hit her two more times and she's reduced to only sobbing.
Blood sprayed over the sheets of the bed, her lips busted and bleeding, she struggles, weak and useless against me, legs trying to kick free.
"No," she breathes through the blood I can see between her teeth, "Stop, Peeta. Please, don't do this."
It wasn't rape, not until I made it that way. She would've been completely willing. But I don't want her willing. I want to see her like this.
Tears stream down her cheeks as she finally gives up.
Now, I'm so excited with the violence, the blood and terror in her eyes, my hearts thumping in my ears, adrenaline racing through my veins. The same feeling I have when I'm in the Arena. It's almost overwhelming. The feelings I had in that room, they're nothing compared to really doing this, not at all.
I start thrusting into her at last, holding her chest down with my right hand, making it difficult to breathe for her, my other hand holding her right leg up, out of the way.
Blood pours from her nose as her hands still claw at my arms to break free, they're useless now though, and I can see that she's not really trying at all anymore. She's out of energy, out of effort. Beaten, broken, and I love it more then anything.
Instead of struggling or screaming, or pleading with me, she just cries now.
And at last, I release inside of her and shove her from me, rolling over on the bed, away from her, and falling asleep to the sounds of her finally breaking into pieces, sobbing so hard that she shakes the bed.
When I wake up, Katniss is curled close to my chest.
Her fingers move in lazy circles over my nipples, she looks asleep; with her eyes closed, but the soft smile on her lips suggests otherwise.
"Good morning," she says, smiling wide, lifting her body up and kissing me, her large breasts press firmly against my chest.
I stop though and sit up to get away from her.
"Peeta?" she asks, confused, "Is something wrong?"
I look at the bed, at the sheets, and there's no blood on it from her nose the night before, I stand up, looking around the room.
My shirt, on the floor, still has all of it's buttons intact.
Ending Notes:
I didn't put Darius and Lavinia being tortured in, mostly because I didn't feel like repeating myself.
If you haven't seen it tho, and don't read Option A, go on back over there and read that part. It's basically, more or less what happens in Option B as well.
I just didn't want to have to throw that in again.
Oh and... reviews are VERY much loved. ^^ See you Wednesday!
~KaKaVegeGurl