Scribblings

Extension of My Usefulness (Hunger Games; Katniss/Peeta; NC-17)

bluemoon02 — Mon, 20 Feb 2012 19:26:57 GMT

Title: Extension of My Usefulness
Fandom & Pairing: The Hunger Games Trilogy (Takes place during Catching Fire); Katniss/Peeta
Rating: NC-17 for sexually explicit goings on
Summary During their train journey on the Victory Tour, Peetah finds he may be good for more than just helping Katniss sleep.
Dislcaimer: None of it's mine, all characters & situations are property of Suzanne Collins. I make no money from my meagre Pr0n.
Author's Notes: My first fanfic in a LONG time. Please go easy, I may have become rusty with age!

I start awake when she twitches in her sleep. We had been huddled in the cave again, safe for the time being, warm, naked and alone together, but without the pain of the true memories of that time. It takes me a moment to adjust to the dark and the gentle rocking movement of our train compartment. Katniss’ train compartment.

I expect her to be crying out in her sleep again, but she’s fairly still. A soft sigh escapes her lips, her foot twitching in sleep. I’d seen animals do that but hadn’t realised, until sharing a sleeping bag with Katniss in the games, that dreaming people twitch as well.

In her sleep she twists a little closer, the next puffing sigh of air skittering across my neck. Without my consent, my body gives an answering twitch, and I groan softly. This is becoming a worryingly frequent occurrence.

Katniss needs me to sleep. And in my own way, I need her for a restful night as well. This is my understanding of our arrangement. Her embraces are needy, not affectionate. She burrows into me for safety. I’m the nearest warm body. My mind understands this and, while it’s not nice, has come to accept it. Why, then, does my body insist on betraying me. I can almost see my brother’s smirk. Testosterone. It doesn’t matter that Katniss is my friend, she’s beautiful and I ... want her. My body wants her.

As though hearing my thoughts and cruelly teasing out the reaction of my body, her hand slips in her sleep, shifting lower, small fingers tickling the bare skin between my T-shirt and underwear. My unwanted erection throbs steadily in response.

I will not sleep like this. I look into her face, so peaceful and unaware. If she woke and found out, my wretched life would probably not be worth living. There would be no more time spent in her compartment. She would cease to sleep this easily. With slow, smooth movements, my hand moves to the front of my shorts. That first touch, gentle pressure against the hard, jutting flesh, is a relief and a jolt all at once. I clamp my jaw shut, knowing I must breathe steadily if I’m to make sure she stays asleep. My fingers reach in through the slit in the cotton, gently tugging my erection free before beginning a slow, steady rhythm.

As the pace begins to build and I struggle harder to keep my breathing even, a treacherous voice whispers through my mind: This is better with her so close.

Images of her flicker through my mind. Memories of kissing her. The dreams I have of doing more. A groan catches at the back of my throat, but I think I manage to swallow it back down as my body begins to tense.

Another twitch from the slumbering body beside me. Her hand is on my wrist now. I still, like an animal sensing prey. Slowly, so slowly, I ease my head to the side, and see that her eyes are still closed, mouth still relaxed as she sighs in her sleep. Her face burrows into my chest, and her hand ... her hand slips down my wrist, looking to join with mine. I have less than seconds to panic, before her hand is covering mine, her thumb resting gently on the head of my cock. Her eyes remain closed. Her breathing is still soft. The tension in my body, the arousal flowing through me, is almost unbearable. I have no time to call myself a sick bastard for liking this so much, this unconscious intimate contact with my body.

Too afraid of waking her, I keep our hands still, but push slowly up into their warm, tight grasp. Her thumb rubs over the slit of my cock, and bright colours burst behind my eyelids. It will not take much. Another thrust, two, and a third, and I’m gritting my teeth to stay silent once more as thick semen splatters over my stomach.

I release a long breath I hadn’t realised I was holding, trying to wipe my hand without disturbing her. The warm rush of endorphins slipping through my blood, making me warm and sleepy once more, I turn and smile down at the sleeping Katniss.

But the sleeping Katniss is no longer sleeping. Sleeping Katniss has one eye open. She’s looking at me, her head still heavy on my chest. I take a deep intake of breath to explain myself, though there is no decent explanation I can give.

Her hand moves against mine, her palm to my palm, her fingers wrapping around my hand, and she squeeze. I feel the cooling slide of semen coating her thumb and try to remember that this is despicably embarrassing, not arousing. I watch her face carefully. She is not throwing me from her bed. She is not demanding an explanation. She doesn’t even seem to be fully awake, though I sense she must understand what I’ve done.

Slowly, she pulls my hand to her. I think, for a moment, that she wants me to hold her until she goes back to sleep. Perhaps she’s willing to pretend nothing happened, for the sake of keeping her night guard. But her hand pulls me lower. It’s not until she presses my palm firmly to the cotton front of her panties that I even begin to understand. Her hand retreats, stroking over my wrist, and I am left touching her, the heat of her body scalding through the thin cotton, the heel of my hand pressed snugly against her pubic bone, my fingers curled under and between her legs, moulded to the shape of her body. She still watches me. Her eyes are sleepy, but she is certainly awake. I know because her face is serious in a way it only is when awake. She frown slightly. She shifts her hips. Her hand pulls gently at my wrist. I know what she wants, but I’m not entirely sure how to give it to her.

Thinking of my own preferences, I slide my hand upwards. Her frown deepens for a moment, and there’s a flicker of a strange, new expression – uncertainty, even rejection – before my fingertips slide inside her underwear and my hand reassumes its position. Her hair is soft and sleek, straight unlike my curl. I had thought perhaps her stylists’ obsession with waxing every inch of her might have left her completely hairless, but here they have let her remain natural. My thumb strokes idly over the soft fuzz, and Katniss sighs as though sleeping once more. Only the next slow undulation tells me that she is utterly awake and aware of what I’m doing.

But from here, I am flying blind. She sighs again, shifting her body, but it is not like mine. I don’t know what to stroke. I don’t understand where to rub.

Once more, her hand covers mine, her fingers laid over my fingers. She looks up at me. All I can see in the dim light is the whites and pupils of her eyes, trained carefully on me. She presses my middle finger, urging it upwards. The hot softness yields into a slit, and hot, slick juice coats my finger. She hums softly, and I begin to understand. Slowly, I shift this finger through the slippery folds she has helped me discover. I run my finger back and fore, unable to see what I touch but mentally mapping the landscape of this most intimate part of her. As I draw my finger back towards my palm, it bumps over a hard little nub of skin. Katniss jumps in reaction, her body stiffening. I worry I have hurt her, but she’s clutching my wrist suddenly, trying to guide my touch back to that spot. I do my best to comply, circling the round little nub, rubbing it, slicking my finger down first one side then the other. Her body is taut as one of her bows, just before she releases the string.

Her fingers grip my wrist now – no longer guiding my hand, but hanging on. I am pleased for a sign of her desperation. It indicates feelings I know myself. I look at her frowning face. Her eyes are shut again, but she’s not sleeping. Her body’s twitching, but not from dreams. I know that colours are bursting behind her eyes. I know that she is close to that point.

Though my wrist is aching from her grip, and from the small, fast, constricted movement of my fingers, I try my best to do to her what I would want right now. I rub faster, I press more firmly. Each time I seem to hit the ‘right’ spot, I do my best to duplicate the action.

Then all at once, her back is arched and her eyes are wide. I’m still rubbing, but she’s pulling on my wrist now. Slow down, I think. I slow, rubbing more gentle circles, and wonder if I’m imagining the slight twitch of the slippery skin beneath my fingers.

After I have pulled my hand free, wiping my fingers on my shorts, she looks at me a moment. Her frown is deeper. I wait for her to tell me this was a mistake, with a block of ice lodged in the pit of my stomach. I wait for her to ruin this.

Slowly, she slides her arm back across my chest. She’s still watching me. One of her legs slides between mine. It’s close, the way we slept when cold in the cave. Slowly, as though not trusting what I’ll do when she’s not watching, she closes her eyes. And they stay closed.

I wrap my arms tightly around her and pull her close. It is not a move forward, I know that. It is an extension of my usefulness to her. But I am still here, still wrapped around her sleeping body. And that’s enough.

Tech help?

bluemoon02 — Fri, 24 Dec 2010 09:59:33 GMT

D'oh! I have a Christmas fic I want to post, but my MS Word seems to be broken!

I have Windows 7 and MS Office 2010 (Student copy). None of the Office products will work. They were working five days ago, and there's no other signs of a virus or similar. It says I can repair in control panel, but I can't find how.

Help?

bluemoon02 — Mon, 20 Dec 2010 10:44:44 GMT

I got into work. The buses limped along, driven by very grumpy drivers.

I sit here for twenty minutes, watching the snow start to fall in sheets again.

I look on the First Buses website. They shut down all the buses again.

Anyone in the Morriston area with a spare bed for the night? :S

bluemoon02 — Fri, 17 Dec 2010 11:30:34 GMT

More pics ... Including some of me!

Middle Road. I live on a cul-de-sac that feeds from this road. It's pretty busy, but completely barren today!

Ravenhill Park. Look how pretty!!! I've never been there before, but it's huge! So much bigger than I expected. And lots of very good hills, so might see if I can persuade Mark to go sledging with me when he gets home.

Looking towards the city centre from the highest vantage point I could find. I think that's actually Landore, but not sure.

As you can see, the snow comes to WELL above ankle height. My jeans are now soaked!

Me being all smiley and snow-covered.

My handsome boy! Dai is loving the snow, as long as he's allowed to come in and warm up after half an hour!

bluemoon02 — Fri, 17 Dec 2010 08:31:20 GMT

Managed to finally get an answer from work. One of the directors walked in -- bless 'im! He's the only one in the office. A couple of the guys in the workshop also made it in.

He said if it started snowing again he was going to send them home. The flakes started dropping again as we were speaking! Somehow, I don't think I'll be in work today.

Is This What It Feels Like?

bluemoon02 — Fri, 17 Dec 2010 07:56:46 GMT

The buses are snowed in. The taxi firms are sending all their drivers home. I work eight miles away over a mountain, so I'm certainly not walking. Shit, is this what it feels like to be snowed in?

I'd say we have over four inches now. There was barely a half an inch when Mark left for work three hours ago. And it's still CHUCKING it down. I've said I'll try and find out when they're starting up the buses again, but I'm not hopeful. Walking back up from the bus stop, I watch a guy trying to drive up to my street. It isn't a steep hill, but he was sliding back down every time he tried.

In funnier news, this is Dai the Cat's first snow. He's being very cute!

Dai in the snow. Very curious. He's come back in now, and assures me it's slowed up a lot.

This was at half six this morning. It's now 8, and everything has lost its features.

Holy Crap!

bluemoon02 — Thu, 16 Dec 2010 10:38:36 GMT

My knobhead nephew is in hospital!! Last week he had a cold, this week they're saying if my sister had left it much longer getting into hospital he'd have been in a coma! Some weird kind of chest thing going on -- he's got fluid in his lungs and they've hooked him up to IV antibiotics for teh next couple of days. If that doesn't work they're shipping him out to Cardiff.

He didn't jump

bluemoon02 — Wed, 15 Dec 2010 13:18:29 GMT

He didn't jump. Up there for six hours, and he didn't jump. What IS the point? He's 63 years old, too. You would have thought, you get to that age, you have a little more sense. Well well, never mind.

Poor Gareth is spazzing because a company who should have paid us a month ago, and owe us to the tune of 250K, aren't paying. And won't tell us why. Grrrr.

Also Joan is a pain in my arse.

But on the plus side, the Kink_fest prompts are all up and shiny looking. I have five I want to write(!!), and hope so very very much that someone writes some of mine. Because they're beautiful.

bluemoon02 — Tue, 14 Dec 2010 17:36:14 GMT

Dear Selfish Fuck,

The next time you feel suicidal, maybe you could do the decent thing and dispose of yourself quickly and quietly in one of teh time-honoured fashions. Slitting your wrists, for example. Or an overdose. Or a good old fashioned hanging. I understand they all work pretty well. In fact, probably a lot better than throwing yourself off a bridge which really isn't very high to begin with.

You will note that these methods all have one thing in common: they do not entail shutting down a city while a jobsworth police constable shouts at you through a loud-speaker to tell you that you have plenty to live for. Which is a lie, incidentally. Because the jobsworth doesn't know you, and doesn't care why you're up there, as long as you don't jump, because that would create an awful lot of paperwork.

You also wouldn't be stranding any poor bastards in their workplaces. Poor bastards who probably have depression themselves, who have had to suffer sexual abuse, and uproot themselves from their lives, and havce really had a truly awful day sorting out other people's shit, and would appreciate NOT having to be STUCK WITH NO FUCKING FOOD!!!!

Just a suggestion. Selfish fuck.

Yours in Ernest,

Me. Sad, lonely little me.

Guhhhhhh, work

bluemoon02 — Tue, 14 Dec 2010 13:27:52 GMT

No update yesterday. The HMRC inspectors were in. Fuck a duck, what a day!

The good news:

They only asked to see the petty cash spreadsheet for October just gone, which I did myself and was happy that it could be as good as it could be.

The bad news:

They asked for a shitload of stuff we didn't expect them to want to see. Including credit card statements and receipts. Which I have never touched, and are the remit of Horrible Joan. Joan the Incompetant.

We ask her to produce four months of c/c receipts, and she couldn't do it. Not only could she not do it, but she looked smug while she said she couldn't do it. As though the fact that they're FUCK KNOWS WHERE is our fault. As though she had never seen them in her entire life, and SOMEONE was gonna get it, because it certainly wasn't her fault.

ARGH this woman drives me insane. I had to re-do ALL of her work for the past year and a half in the last two months. The credit card receipts, I couldn't even begin to fathom what system she had been using, if indeed a system existed, so I just put everything I found in one place. This was all we could find of the receipts. The shit that I found that she'd put in the wrong place.

Gareth (bossman) says we're going to have to crack down. We're going to talk about it properly tomorrow, but he says he's happy with the adjustments I've made to the system, but we're going to have to crackdown on it. I told him that it's all very well saying that, but Horrible Joan will not take orders from me, so eitehr he's going to have to make her take instruction from me, or just give her work to me. I don't have time to do her work and mine and the work of the QS assistant who quite, so I may need a monkey as well.

PFFFFFFFFT, not fun. They're coming back in January for another reqciew and to go through extra information. Hopefully we're not too fucked!

bluemoon02 — Sun, 12 Dec 2010 06:41:51 GMT

Watching Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Mark did that thing where he forgets how enormous a geek I am. Specifically, demonstrating that I know the "Page 394" scene by heart. With emphasis. And voices.

Reminds me of an exchange early in our relationship, when we were talking about DH:

Mark: There's that bit where Mrs Weasley totally bitchslaps Bellatrix, and she says "No my kids you slapper" or something.
Vicky: It was Ginny she was after, and she said, "Not my daughter, you bitch". In capitals.
Mark: Yeah, or something like that.
Vicky: No, I was quoting. That's what she said.
Mark: You can't possibly remember that.
Vicky: *Smirks. Gets book. Turns to correct page without fumbling. Points to line."
Mark: ... Geek.

We're having dinner with my uncle tonight. Favourite Uncle. First crush, even. I haven't seen him since I went to my brother's 40th birthday party, when things between Dave and I were first starting to roll downhill and gather momentum. His daughters were bridesmaids at my wedding. I'm getting those horrible feelings I always get when I see members of my family that I don't see very often. Are they going to blame me? Hate me? Has Dave talked to them? Are they going to want me to explain things to them?

This is probably why I was awake at half past four.

I want so much for everything to be normal, for him to just like Mark and accept that I'm smart and know myself and that he'll be able to see that I'm happier now than I've ever been. I hope so much that he won't ask questions. Brother got confrontational when I saw him -- he and Dave were close -- and I had to go upstairs and have a panic attack, while Dad explained some of the abuse stuff to him. I'm so glad Mark will be there with me.

Let's go look at the kinkfest to cheer up, shall we?

GRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!

bluemoon02 — Thu, 09 Dec 2010 13:08:27 GMT

Horrible Joan as being a bitch about Mark. I will not stand for idiots being bitchy about my menfolk!

Apparently if the menopausal ginger troll saw him in a pub, she'd laugh in his face. Not if he punched it first.

So furious I can't even write good insult.

Secret Santa

bluemoon02 — Wed, 08 Dec 2010 13:30:45 GMT

I pulled my boss out for Secret Santa. I happen to think my boss is rather a cutey, and am strongly resisting the temptation to misbehave and get him something naughty.

He'd laugh it off, but I'd die of embarrassment if he found out it was me.

Hmmmmm, what to do what to do

Songfic Fest?

bluemoon02 — Wed, 08 Dec 2010 10:43:56 GMT

Just wondering if anyone would be interested in a challenge/exchange for Harry Potter fanfic inspired by songs? I always leave song-ish prompts in fests, and would be cool to have a whole fest around that theme.

Any interest? Reckon if there were ten sign-ups it would be worth putting together.

Me and My Kindle

bluemoon02 — Tue, 07 Dec 2010 22:00:26 GMT

As I may have mentioned, once or twice or twenty times, I am receiving a Kindle for Christmas (SQUEEEEEEE!!!!!) I've made a whee Kindle book wishlist, but I wndered if anyone had any recs? I read mostly fiction, some history and literature non-fiction. Books I've liked enough to buy for other people/read more than once in the recent past are:

"Atonement" by Ian McEwan
"The Children's Book" by A.S. Byatt
"Wolf Hall" by Hilary Mantel
"We Need to Talk About Kevin" by Lionel Shriver
"Amsterdam" by Ian McEwan
"The Handmaid's Tale" by Margaret Atwood
"Mary Swann" by Carol Shields
"Pride and Prejudice" by Jane Austen
"The Prestige" by Christopher Priest
"Tipping the Velvet" by Sarah Waters
"Fingersmith" by Sarah Waters
"Red Dragon" by Thomas Harris
"The Dubliners" by James Joyce
"The Pursuit of Love" by Nancy Mitford
"Wicked" by Gregory Maguire
"The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundre Christ" by Phillip Pullman

Any suggestions?

bluemoon02 — Tue, 07 Dec 2010 20:12:44 GMT

Passed my exam!! Oh yes, I am actually awesome!

Then gave my tutor a bit of a shock by giving him a bear hug. Passing is always a hue relief!!

I Am Joe's Inflamed Bile Duct

bluemoon02 — Tue, 07 Dec 2010 10:35:05 GMT

Ah, Joan is back. Joan is the bane of my existence. She lives to irritate me. She's one of these people who competes for misery. You know they type, you say, "Brrr, it's cold out there!" and she says, "Cold?! You want cold?! I'll tell you about cold, you don't know the first thing about being cold."

All. Day. Long.

She sits opposite me. There is no escape.

Thank God I have college this afternoon. Because, y'know, an exam is way better than her.

Oh, and I lost three and a half pounds at Weight Watchers last night, and felt like teh sexiest woman in the universe ... for all of an hour. Ho hum, at least it's coming off.

Thanks to me, we have no heat!

bluemoon02 — Mon, 06 Dec 2010 10:41:00 GMT

Arrived at work this morning to a horrific smell of gas in the porch. Mentioned it around and about, and was told it always smells of gas. Unperturbed, I complained to my manager and was told to call TRANSCO (LEM flashbacks!!!)

The main outside the building is pissing out gas. They've cut off the gas to the whole street.

Me and my big mouth!

Hunt for a beta...

bluemoon02 — Sun, 05 Dec 2010 10:11:07 GMT

Hullo! Looking for a Harry Potter beta reader, if anyone's available at some point over the next week.

Fic #1 -- Snape/Lily MWPP era angsty sad Christmas fic, max 2,000 words, top rating PG-13. There might be a Christmas kiss, that's about as raunchy as it'll get. One-shot. I'm looking for a second pair of eyes to check it over grammatically, make sure everything reads OK and, as I've been out of writing fanfic for a while, just to double check that everything's canonically as good as it can be. Not a super-fast turnaround needed on this one.

Fic #2 -- Snape/Lily, Snape/Narcissa, Lily/James, Narcissa/Lucius. I'm polishing off the first chapter, but this one's going to be long. It's going to be the next novella-length fic, I think. MWPP era, starting when our heroes are in school, beginning of fifth year, and running through to the war. In total, I'm aiming for around 50K, around 3K per chapter, and I have no idea how quickly I'll be able to write it. It will be up to NC-17, quite dark, include lots of angsting (grown up as well as teenage), some adultery, I'd *like* to make it political. Looking at the relationships around Snape, what drew him to Lord Voldemort, why he turned into such a Bad Egg. I'm looking for a beta reader who will encourage as well as criticise, and who is willing to help see me through to the bitter end.

Anyone interested can comment or email me at tiggerbouncevix AT gmail DOT com

Request for Signups

bluemoon02 — Sat, 04 Dec 2010 09:35:49 GMT

hogwarts_hols seriously needs some more sign ups. I know 'tis the season to be snowed under, but it looks relaxed and happy there. C'mon, you know you want to...

(And I really need someone to sign up that the want a hugey Snape-centric fic, so I can be happy :P)

HP Fic Exchanges?

bluemoon02 — Thu, 02 Dec 2010 19:54:14 GMT

Um...Did Harry Potter fic exchanges die a death while I was out of fandom? None of the Spring ones seem to be issuing sign ups. springtime_gen claimed that it was going on a year's hiatus, but would be up and running again from December 1st 2010. That was yesterday.

What's happened to my fandommmmmm???

On My Travels

bluemoon02 — Thu, 02 Dec 2010 19:25:43 GMT

Spent today in Worcestor, with my well-deserved last holiday day before Christmas. Went with Mum and sister, ostensibly to visit the Christmas market. Little did we know the Christmas Market was not opening until several hours after we intended to leave. Oops!

But we had a really nice time poking about in nice little shops. Supposed to be Christmas shopping, but the terrible thing when going somewhere new is I always see things that I want for me, and simply wouldn't do for anybody else. I was very good though. Walked straight past the beautiful light shades and hideously expensive but lovely notebooks, AND the hanging stained glass mobiles. Did give in and buy myself a lovely Ron Weasley hat and rainbow fingerless gloves-turned-mittens. Very warm! And they'll brighten up the look of my Christmas Kindle when it arrives (*SQUEE I'M GETTING A KINDLE SQUEE!*)

It snowed alllll day long, but didn't settle. Snow settled on the bnks the whole drive home, but not a single flake seems to have touched down in Swansea. Hugely disappointing.

Oh well, no excuse for not going in tomorrow and hearing the verdict of the accountant then. Cue Funeral March.

Is Competant

bluemoon02 — Wed, 01 Dec 2010 10:33:13 GMT

Taken the first exam, and I have been marked: Competant!

Doesn't sound much, does it? The only choices are compentant or incompetant, so I'll take that as a good thing.

Bad news is we are getting audited by HMRC. They're auditing PAYE, which will be fine, and petty cash, which is a pile of shit. I started reconciling the petty cash account, which has previously been in the charge of our incompetant admin assistant (The director's wife and therefore un-sackable). I had this financial year looking reasonably alright. Gareth wants a shitload of extra stuff done, plus they're auditing four months back from where I had reconciled.

The accountant is coming in tomorrow to look it over. I have a driving lesson at half four. I have six hours.

HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!!!!

Happy Exam Day (Part 1)

bluemoon02 — Tue, 30 Nov 2010 10:35:05 GMT

Today is my first accountancy exam.

I have just realised that I didn't do *any* of the revision I intended to do over the weekend, on account of being falsely boosted up by passing all my test papers. ARGHHHH I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE LOANS GO IN THE BALANCE SHEET!!!!

Thank God for the tinternet.

In other news, I will also be taking my exam through the agony of my pain killers wearing off an hour early. It's crap being a girl. Stupid lady parts.

Still Alive!

bluemoon02 — Mon, 29 Nov 2010 14:51:51 GMT

Bloody hell, what a year! OK, catch up for the past nine months or so:

Moved to Swansea in South Wales, living in a small house with Mark and our idiot cat Dai.

Learning to drive (!)

Studying AAT Level 3 to become an accountant

Working at an engineering company in accounts, where I am hugely appreciated and allowed a fairly free reign (hurrah)

Off the anti-depressants, no longer in counselling, and holding myself together with reasonable success

Looking forward to a Christmas surrounded by my family 

Coming out the other side of year-long writer’s block. Didn’t manage to succeed at NaNoWriMo, but 35,000 words is considerably better than the 0 words I’d previously written since Conversational Vulcan!!

Looking forward to getting a bit more into fandom and, hopefully, into originals again.

So that’s me. What the hell’s been happening while I’ve been vanished?