Work Text:
She’d almost made it to the door when he grabbed her wrist. She barely had a chance to inhale before he jerked her around, hard, and slammed her against the wall. She waited for the inevitable—his hands at her throat again, or Johanna shoving in to help—but this time he pinned her hands down on either side of her head.
“Let me go.”
“What’s the matter, Katniss?” he spat her name at her like it revolted him. “Tired of our little chat?”
Her eyes darted to the glass, imagining she was meeting Johanna’s on the other side. These were the longest sentences he’d spoken since she arrived. She shook her head slightly, just once, and looked back at him. His eyes were cold with rage, but he seemed in control.
“Your angry victim bit’s getting old, Peeta.”
He snorted. “It’s amazing I’m not getting better with all this love and care. It’s almost impossible to believe I need video to remind me that I supposedly love you, you frigid bitch.”
“Well, I need video to remind me that you were actually human once, so I guess we’re even,” she snapped back. “Now let go of my fucking hands.”
“Classy, too,” he said, and as he leaned in further, she shivered. “I like you right here, Mockingjay,” he murmured in her ear. “You need someone to shut you up.” He traced her earlobe with his teeth before biting down, hard. “You need someone to fill your mouth with something other than words,” he said, shifting his hips forward. She gasped involuntarily as the hardness of his cock grazed her clit. “Yeah, I knew that innocent act was bullshit.”
He released one of her hands and dropped it to her breast, squeezing it roughly. “You really expect me to believe we only slept on that train?” He rocked his hips into her again. “I don’t believe anything you say, especially not about that.” When he released her other wrist and fisted his hand in her hair, pulling hard enough to make her see stars, her legs began to tremble.
This wasn’t her Peeta. Her Peeta was gone. They’d stolen him, and left her this angry shell.
But all she could think about was how wet her panties felt.
“You wanna get fucked, Mockingjay?” Both hands were on her breasts now, tugging at her nipples through her shirt. He bit down on her collarbone, hard, and she cried out. “I’ll fuck you like the dirty whore you are.”
When his eyes met hers again—still hard, still angry, but now reflecting his lust—she closed hers briefly, hating herself for her weakness. This wasn’t her Peeta, but this was the Peeta that was left.
She took a deep breath, and released her answer on the exhale:
“Yes…”
She knew it was the wrong decision. Despite the times Jo had told her to “fuck the hijacking out of him, brainless,” she knew that not even Jo had thought this was a good idea. But she had to have known it was an option when she’d agreed to help Katniss concoct this elaborate scheme to be alone with Peeta late at night. Surely she’d seen the desperation in Katniss’s eyes when she spoke of Peeta, the thinly veiled panic whenever the subject of his slow recovery came up. The doctors had tried shocking him in various ways—with video; with visitors; literally, with electricity—and still the real Peeta seemed, for the most part, to be buried. So if letting this…hijacked version…take her virginity would help bring him back to her? Well, she was just desperate enough to try it.
Well, she thought she was, anyway.
In the rare moments she’d ever allowed herself to dream about this moment, the moment when Peeta would make her his in every way possible, it certainly didn’t have a hospital holding cell as the backdrop.
His hands were pulling at her clothes, and she couldn’t believe the things he was saying to her. She’d never heard him talk this way. Was this inside him all the time, or had they trained this into him while he was imprisoned? She knew the Capitol was depraved; she knew what they’d made other Victors do. Had Peeta been forced into sexual acts as part of his torture?
Or was there a part of his District 12 life she didn’t know about?
He stripped her naked, and she was shivering before him, terror warring inside her with lust. He leered at her in a way that made her feel both dirty and aroused, lazily stroking his cock inside his pants. “You’re too skinny, but you’re a fine piece of ass, Everdeen,” he said. “Maybe I’ll fuck that too, after I’m done with your pussy.”
“I don’t think so,” she managed, watching him shed his clothing. She’d seen him in various stages of undress before, but this was different. She wasn’t prepared for the hard lines of his chest, the definition in his arms, the pale line of hair that led down his abdomen and disappeared into his underwear.
He chuckled, and it had a nasty edge to it. “Sweetheart, you’re going to let me do anything I want to you. You wouldn’t be here otherwise. You’ve always thought I was stupid, but I’ve always had your number. You wanna fuck me back into whatever it is you think I was before,” and she blushed at the accuracy of his words, “but that’s not going to work.” He brought his hand up and pinched her right nipple, hard, and she cried out. “But I’m still okay with the fucking part.”
He stepped forward before she even had time to breathe, and slammed her hands against the wall again. He bared his teeth and dragged them down her neck, thrusting his cock against her and circling his hips. “I know how you like it, Mockingjay—fast and dirty. I’m gonna give it to you, right here,” and he thrust against her, hard, “and you’ll beg me for it before I’m done.”
He released her wrists and palmed her breasts, twisting both of her nipples cruelly. She expected the pain, but not the delicious feeling that followed, and she groaned low in her throat. “They all think you’re such a prude, but I know how dirty you are,” he muttered against her neck. “You want my cock in your pussy, as deep and hard as I can get it. You want me to come all over your face and your tits. You want me to fuck your ass, slapping you harder every time I slam into you, my hand in your hair yanking your head back.”
His hands were everywhere, and she didn’t know where he’d learned everything he was doing and saying. She was afraid if she stopped to think about it, she would put a stop to it.
And if she was being honest with herself, she didn’t want him to stop. She wanted him to fuck her, any and every way he wanted to. And if it brought him back to her—well, that would be an unexpected bonus.
If it didn’t, she’d at least know where all of these feelings ended up.
His hand was in her hair again, and he was pulling downward, forcing her down to her knees. His cock rose ramrod straight right in front of her face, and he wrapped one of his hands around it. “Open your mouth,” he snapped, and when she closed her eyes and did, he rammed his cock between her lips.
They’d done nothing more than kiss before he’d been taken, and now her mouth was full of his cock. She choked and spluttered for a long moment, and feared she might actually vomit from the gagging sensation he was causing. But when he pulled out a little she remembered something Johanna had once told her, and quickly wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft before he could shove the whole thing back in.
“What would your precious rebels say if they could see you now, Mockingjay?” he sneered. “The great Katniss Everdeen, down on her knees, her mouth full of cock.” His hands fisted in her hair as she attempted to control his strokes. “I bet they’d all line up to be serviced, to be sucked off by their precious symbol, to come in your mouth or all over your face, like the whore you are.”
She no longer knew who this was for. She hated this Peeta with everything that she was, but at the same time, she wanted nothing more than her mouth wrapped around his cock. She was sure there were disturbing psychological connotations to that, but right now, she just needed him to keep going. Because she was afraid that Peeta was the only one who saw her for the truly flawed being that she was, and she craved his hatred and punishment.
No one else would give it to her.
If she couldn’t give himself back to him, at the very least, she could give him this. This…revenge. She’d certainly done enough to him to deserve this, and more.
And…fuck, she wanted it so much. She wasn’t sure she’d ever wanted anything more.
He pulled upwards on her hair and she let his cock fall out of her mouth, lurching to her feet. Once more he backed her up against the wall, this time seeking her with his fingers and jamming two inside of her. “I knew you wanted this, you fucking bitch,” he bit out, the heel of his hand hitting her clit with every thrust. “Gonna give it you,” and he pulled his hand away and wrenched her thighs apart. “On your back.”
She scrambled backwards to the bed, both terrified and more aroused than she’d thought possible, and laid back. He grabbed her thighs and pulled her forward to the edge of the bed, and without warning, buried himself inside of her.
The sudden pain was terrible, worse than she’d imagined. Of course, she’d only imagined the gentle Peeta who would sooner throw himself in front of a train than hurt her. She couldn’t muffle a surprised, pained cry. For a moment his eyes met hers, and there—for the briefest of seconds—was her Peeta, the real Peeta, horrified he’d hurt her. But that Peeta was gone just as quickly, and in his place was this rage-filled stranger. He pulled out and slammed into her again, and this time it only hurt half as much. And by the time he was bent over her, biting at her nipples while he fucked her, she was raising her hips to meet him with every stroke.
“Yeah, you want it, you want my cock so bad,” he grunted. “Thought you’d be all satisfied, getting it from Hawthorne.” His hands gripped her hips hard enough that she knew she’d have bruises afterward. “But one of us never was enough for you.”
Gale again. She would never escape this nightmare. “Shut the fuck up, Peeta,” She gasped. “You don’t…know what you’re…fucking talking about.”
In response, all he did was pull out and flip her over. “Up on your knees where I like you,” and he shoved at her until she was on her knees on the bed, forearms flat against the mattress in front of her. “Oh, that’s nice,” he murmured appreciatively, dragging his nails down her spine. She couldn’t suppress the shudder than ran through her. “I think you look best from this view.”
“Fuck you,” and her words came out on a half-sob. “Just do it already,” she said, straining backward toward him.
And he took her ass in both hands, spread her wide, and sank his cock in her pussy until his balls slapped against her ass. “You let Hawthorne fuck you like this? Bent over on your knees, down in front of him like a dirty whore? Or is that something you just got from poor pathetic Peeta?” He punctuated his last question with a hard slap on her ass, and despite biting her lip as hard as she could, she couldn’t suppress a deep moan. “Is there anything degrading you don’t like, Mockingjay?” He slapped the other side, just as hard, and a cry escaped from her.
“Mmmmm…so good watching my cock in your pussy…you made me wait for you, and now you’re down on your knees where you belong.” Her head was spinning from his words, and she could feel him getting harder inside her. She lifted her hand and rubbed at her clit, unable to be passive in this. He grabbed ahold of her hair again and pulled back, hard. “You want my come in your pussy, Katniss?”
“Yes,” she gasped, so close to the edge, never hating him more than in this moment.
He yanked on her hair harder. “I’m gonna give it to you, gonna fill you up so…” his words strangled on a low cry as he stuttered in his movements, his hips jerking. She followed him over the edge with a shout only moments later.
He pulled out and shoved away from her. “You got what you came for. Get the fuck out,” he said, pulling on his pajamas. She took a few deep breaths, still perched on his bed, trying to make sense of what she’d just done.
What the fuck had she just done?
She dressed quickly, a feeling of panic rising inside of her, avoiding looking at him until the last possible second. He leaned against the door, watching her through narrowed eyes.
“Get the hell out of my way, Peeta.”
He smirked and stepped to the side. “What will everyone say when they find out what you’ve done?”
She wrapped her arms around her stomach, met his cold eyes briefly, and fled to the outer room where she knew Johanna still waited.
What would everyone say?
His mirthless laughter followed her, both right then and for weeks after, in her dreams.