Johanna doesn't understand why it doesn't bother her. It had long since been decided that, being from District Seven, the stocking of the firewood belonged to her. It makes little sense, how watching as Katniss' back arches as she stretches to bring power to her blow doesn't bring up feeling of envy inside of her. It was her duty. The job Johanna did each night to keep their little fireplace well stocked and warm. But the effect that it had was so far from envious that Johanna couldn't help but feeling unnerved. She was no stranger to arousal, absolutely not. She had never been a woman to feel shame, not about her words or her body.
But this was different, in a way. Watching Katniss strike the blade into previously cut logs shouldn't cause the reaction it did. Breath catching in her throat, Johanna couldn't help but feel the slightest bit perverted, watching from inside the window. Her breath fogged on the window and the older tribute found the only thing she was annoyed with in the entire situation was that her breath on the pane of glass was restricting her view. Wiping it away furiously, a glare not meant for the young woman beyond the glass but for the white cloud upon it.
Once the window was clear, it didn't last. The low grunt Johanna could hear from the young brunette only caused her breath to whiten the window once more. It was absolutely arousing and Johanna hated to admit it. So she stepped away from the window, back turning from it. Frustrating, as well as arousing. Johanna wanted to go out, push Katniss against the nearest tree before ripping the clothes off her slim body.
Even though she was turned away, Johanna could still hear the twack! coming from outside. Every one caused a tremble inside her, and the older tribute felt her body reacting to the thoughts of Katniss. Trousers slightly pushed down, shirt and jacket pushed up to expose the abdominal muscles. Feeling them tense under her fingertips as Johanna slipped them under the fabric between the younger girl's legs.
Groaning out loud, Johanna let her head fall against the nearest wall and let her eyes close. It visualized the thoughts, only making things worse than they already were. It was a job that needed to be done, what Katniss was doing. Johanna took pride in it, providing her shared home in what used to be District Twelve with the wood needed to keep it warm. Not only hers, but the home down the dirt road belonging to Peeta, Annie, her son. It was serious business. She had come from District Seven, it was a lifestyle. Wood provided heat, kept them warm when Mother Nature tried to freeze them. Not that the cold had ever particularly bothered Johanna. It was mid fall, after all, and though Katniss, at times, bemoaned the nip in the air, Johann enjoyed it. After all, District Seven was northern. Or where District Seven once was. Cold, heavy winters.
As much as Johanna had tried to distract herself with the thoughts of the oncoming winter, Katniss' strokes into the lumber brought her back to the incredibly stimulating thoughts. With her feet stomping on the hardwood, Johanna pulled on the leather hunting boots Katniss had pushed on her before heading out the door to stop this. She needed no jacket, the air wasn't that cold yet. In fact, her body was far too hot for this. Obviously, it was the issue at hand that caused her blood to flow this way. Door slamming behind her, Johanna paid little attention to the look of surprise written across Katniss' features in favour of storming over to the young woman.
"Stop," Johanna ordered, caring little at Katniss' expressions. Either she was shut off or cold, unreadable, or her emotions were spread like butter on toasted bread across her face. Right now, the befuddlement was satisfying. And infuriating. Katniss had told her once, during the seventy forth games, that Peeta had said that she had no idea about the effect she could have. Johanna could truly feel how Peeta must have felt in that moment. The other girl was so stupidly innocent despite everything, had no idea what she could do to people. Do to Johanna. The older tribute wanted to wrap her hands around Katniss' throat and choke the fact into her head.
For as long as they had done this together, built this house beside the meadow where Katniss had said she and her sister had once played, Johanna still found herself wanting to kill the girl as much as she wanted to press her lips against the young woman's. "You're infuriating, rage inducing, and absolutely frustrating," Johanna hissed as she grabbed ahold of Katniss' wrist, forcing the axe out of her hand to fall. It narrowly missed their feet as it embedded itself in the dirt in the chopping area behind the house. Katniss still had the look on her face like she was the deer Johanna had seen her shoot, just as they realized they couldn't run away from their demise. They made fine meals for the people who had settled in the remains of District Twelve.
"And you're fucking tantalizing," Johanna continued, voice low and hands moving up to grab the girl's shoulders. Pushing Katniss the several feet behind, Johanna relieved some of the pressure on her hold when Katniss' back hit the side of the house her and Johanna had built up from lumber. In other moments, Johanna would have thought to be proud of her handy work. Proud of Katniss' – sometimes rather useless – help she tried to provide.
Swooping down, Johanna wasted little time before she forced her lips against the younger girl's, relishing the small yelp of surprise. It caused Katniss' lips to part, ever so slightly. Enough for Johanna to take control and suck the plump lower lip between her teeth to nip on. Johanna was a bit far from gentle, she never had been. Katniss never seemed to have minded. Much of their relationship was founded on built of tension, expressing it in a whirlwind of messy, helpless and confused kisses in the weeks following the fall of the Capitol and power of District Thirteen. It was satisfying, in many ways. It got out many emotions both felt, such a passion with any emotion. It wasn't like what Johanna had felt with lovers past, and part of her knew that this, what her and Katniss had, was far from what Katniss had with the sexed up miner and handsome baker. The lot of them were better off with who they had now. Katniss needed not a baker, not a miner slash hunter, to survive. Katniss needed no one, and neither did Johanna herself. She was certain this was why they worked, despite the way they acted.
There was no one to owe.
Well, with the exception of sexual reciprocation.
Several long, moments later, Katniss pulled away to take a sharp intake of breath. But that was all she was allowed before Johanna swept back in, a frenzy of bruising lips, Katniss fighting for a dominance she wouldn't be given. Johanna wouldn't allow it, and she reached up to pull at the tie that held the signature braid in place. She pulled it loose, her hands quickly working to loosen the hair before tugging it and successfully tilting Katniss' head back to expose that neck. The neck that smelled forever of forest in the spring, leather from the jacket and mint from her pores due to their post supper drink. It was absolutely intoxicating, Johanna thought as she pressed her face into the crook of Katniss' neck, inhaling deeply before she sunk her lips into the flesh, to taste. The slump, the moan, she got from Katniss caused Johanna to smirk, free arm wrapping itself round Katniss' middle. The last thing Johanna needed was for the other girl's legs to give out and have her slump to the ground. After all, Katniss did go weak at the knees for her. Or so Johanna liked to think.
The earlier images of Johanna sliding her hands under Katniss' clothing would rapidly be turning into a reality at this moment. Out here, there were no cameras. No one to watch their actions with one another unless someone happened to stop by and come around the back of their home. Hopefully the small noises Katniss was emitting as Johanna's finger's danced along the strip of skin between hem and waist band were enough to keep people away. She responded to touch much like Buttercup did, and perhaps that was why they disliked each other. They were alike, even if they were human and cat. Johanna was fond of them both.
Having enough of the playful, teasing touches, Johanna waited no more. With her lips still attached, sucking bruises into Katniss' skin as a mark of ownership, Johanna lead her hand up Katniss' shirt and jacket. The skin was soft, warm. What had been smooth at one point just before the seventy forth games was now beginning to scar again. Cuts on rocks from the small pond they went too, wrestling and grappling at each other with just their underpants on. Not that those had lasted at the time, anyway. Johanna could feel every new little mark of history as her fingers explored her lover's torso. Where Katniss had been hit by a branch, just above her backside, because she had dropped her knife just as Johanna had cut free a limb in the tree. Another where Johanna had been upset, so much so, at Katniss for kissing a hurt and injured Peeta as their own relationship had just taken this turn. Johanna remembered it well, throwing her wine glass so hard it broke against her side. Despite how vigorous her mouth worked at Katniss' skin, her fingers trailed gently over the puckered scar in the only apology Katniss would ever receive for that day.
But Johanna's hands continued upward. Up and under the brazier that kept Katniss' breasts from being the talk of the small town that was still being built here. They were glorious, Johanna couldn't help but admit. Firm, still perky from Katniss' upper body strength due to her shooting. Johanna wasted not a moment before cupping one in her palm under Katniss' clothes, enjoying the low moan and sound of the young woman's head hitting the wood behind her as it tilted more. Johanna was free to remove her other hand from Katniss' soft and dark hair. There were better places to be, as the other was now busy eliciting the small little whimper's Katniss made every time Johanna pinched and plucked at her nipples. Not as nice as when Johanna's lips were wrapped around them, but still satisfactory. Katniss didn't speak much, never said anything more than a soft whisper of Johanna's name during intercourse so the older tribute absorbed every noise Katniss made. They gradually got louder, as Johanna slowly got a bit more forceful in her groping. Squeezing her breast, before sliding her hand to the other to share the attention, Johanna's other hand finally made its way into Katniss' trousers, under the soft cotton underpants. Despite having always preferred being hairless after her own games, Johanna appreciated Katniss keeping her hair. A soft, curly down that matched the hairs on her arms, on her legs. Katniss resented hair removal, but Johanna had hers lasered off long ago after winning her wealth. Johanna, for all she was hairless herself, liked it.
Johanna's fingers were cold, colder than Katniss' heat between her legs anyway. She knew as much when Katniss took in a sharp breath, but the girl managed to adjust herself quickly once Johanna's hand was settled comfortably between her legs. She was always fast to adapt, parting her legs to allow Johanna better access. Smart girl, even if she was brainless most of the time. But perhaps she was just eager to feel Johanna's fingers between her fold, rapidly heating as Johanna trailed one teasingly to feel the wetness between the lips. There was a sense of pride that Johanna felt, for pushing Katniss' buttons in such a way that made her body prepare itself for her digits. Though there was no fun in plunging in right way. Johanna was no ordinary man, after all. She was a woman, one who knew how another woman's body reacted. What it wanted. Index finger sliding up, Johanna pressed it ever so slightly against Katniss' clit, smirking against the girl's skin under her jaw when Katniss pushed down firmer on her fingers for more pressure. Hips gyrating ever so slightly to build pressure. In basic terms, Katniss was attempting to please herself using Johanna's finger as the tool. She wouldn't have any of that. Johanna removed her hand from her breast, slipping down skin to press against Katniss' lower stomach to hold her still. "Quit it, brainless, or I'll leave you begging for more while I have some fun with the toys we got from the Capitol," Johanna teased and grinned when she got a hiss of displeasure from Katniss.
If Johanna wasn't in control, Johanna wasn't happy. With the exception of the New Year where Johanna and Katniss had drank too much. It turned out the young lady had quite the idea for the knots Finnick had once taught her. Bless his soul, what he would think if he could see the two of them now. Katniss, with her little pants as she was slumped against an outside wall with Johanna's hands down her trousers. He'd likely be rooting for them. Good, seeing as Johanna was herself.
When she felt like Katniss deserved a little more than some light friction, Johanna gave her a little more. An index finger slipped inside the hot, wet folds. Johanna could immediately feel the muscles move around her finger, more so as Johanna's thumb continued to press and rub against the other girl's clitoris. Johanna pressed closer, breasts pressed against each other. Arousing, even with the layers of clothes between them. Katniss' body moved in wonderful ways against hers, as Johanna's finger began to pump in and out. Her hips continue to try to move, but Johann wouldn't allow such a thing with her other hand. She was in control, not her younger lover. "I said stop," Johanna said and stopped her movements for a moment, to teach the olive skinned woman a lesson. When she felt the punishment had set in, Johanna resumed her motions, a middle finger – a personal favourite in many ways – soon joined her index. Stretching Katniss wider with a gentle scissoring motion, her other hand went back around to grab at Katniss' buttocks to pull her closer. Send her fingers deeper as Johanna added a third and what would be final finger. She could really feel Katniss' inner muscle clench around her. It was in time with her whimpers and soft moans that brushed against Johanna's ear. "If you want it, kitty cat, you have to say it," Johanna purred, head pulling away to rest against Katniss' forehead to watch her expression better. She only got a glare at the nickname before Katniss' eyes squeezed shut and she let out a high squeal as Johanna's fingers curled, pressing against a spot she had spent months searching for. Soft, like the skin inside Katniss' sex, but once pressure was put on it, Katniss' pleasure built and built. Johanna had kept her from orgasming once that when Katniss begged so sweetly against her will, she soaked their bed with how much she came.
Ever since that moment, Johanna had searched for it to bring Katniss to her orgasm. "Say it," Johanna ordered as she slowly began to withdraw her fingers as a warning that this wouldn't continue. Only then did Katniss snap out, a glare forming on her now opened eyes. "Make me orgasm," the archer snapped. Good enough, Johanna supposed, and pressed a little kiss in reward as she returned her fingers back inside Katniss' heat. Her digits curled again, pressing with short bursts against Katniss' g-spot her thumb continuing it's stimulation on the girl's clitoris externally. It didn't take long after for Johanna to start feeling Katniss tighten so brilliantly around her fingers, crying out as her body shuddered with its release. Moments after, Johanna was free to remove her finger from Katniss, out of her trousers to find their way into Johanna's mouth. Lapping the girl's juices off her fingers, Johanna's other hand held Katniss steady as she tried to recover herself.
"What the hell was that all about?" Katniss asked, breathless but still with a fight to her voice. Johanna just responded with a shrug and a smirk before she gave a short explanation. "You know how to handle my wood," she said with a wink before ruffling Katniss' hair with the hand that was previously inside her lover. Pulling away, Johanna crossed her arms and grabbed the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her body. She wore no bra herself, and the smirk stayed on her lips as she saw Katniss' eyes move to her breasts. To think she had tried to once avoid them. Going to the button on her own trousers, Johanna shimmied herself out of them, leaving them on the ground before she turned away. The underpants soon followed, Johanna walking away as she tossed them over her shoulder towards her lover. Making her way back to the back door, Johanna called out,
"You owe me!"