#request away

that depends...is the request about roydick?

Thank you all so, so much for your amazing requests! They’re going to be so much fun to write, and I genuinely can’t wait for you all to read them 🫶🏻

I’ve gotten a lot of requests already, so I’ll be leaving them open for one more hour for anyone who still wants to send something in. After that, I’ll be closing them so I can start getting the fics out!

Just wanted to let you know that requests for scenarios are OPEN still! Feel free to request something you like!

Have a nice day/night!

Hello my wonderful beautiful people! My birthday is today and it's not just any birthday! It's my 30th birthday! I never imagined I would reach such a milestone in my life but I have and I'm very happy and grateful for that!

To celebrate, I'll be doing a writing event all month long to celebrate! 30 prompts to choose from for any of the fandoms on my list! You can do up to 2 prompts per request and try to be as detailed as possible with your request! If this event is popular enough, then it will last all year long instead!

Here are the prompts!

“You know I love you right? Good because I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

“You deserve so much better. Better than a screw-up like me.”

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“My only regret is ever trusting you. I will never make that mistake again.”

“You’re not that valuable to me and you never will be.”

“I can’t live without you. I won’t live without you. You die, I die.”

“You deserve nothing less than queen treatment.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I got you no matter what.”

“Thank you for showing me what true love is.”

“You always take care of people. Let someone else take care of you for a change.”

“Who needs a heart when a heart can be broken?”

“If you wanted more sex, then why didn’t you say so?”

“I don’t care how often you wanna fuck. As long as I’m the only one you’re fucking.”

“You’re never too much for me baby.”

“Is it so hard to just let someone love you?”

“All I need is you. Nothing else matters.”

“Stay with me. Please.”

“I’d rather be single forever than be with someone like you.”

“I’ve wanted you for so long. Please let me have you.”

“You’re the only person on this Earth that I love and trust.”

“I’m not your punching bag for your issues that you refuse to heal!”

“You’re never alone. You got me.”

“No one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”

“This is the happiest day of my life. And it’s all because of you.”

“You’re an option, not a definition!”

“I don’t regret a damn thing. I’ll do it all over again.”

“I know we shouldn’t but nothing’s ever felt so right.”

“I know exactly what you need and if you let me, I’ll give it to you.”

“I want to see you. All of you. You don’t have to hide from me.”

“You have meant more to me than anyone I’ve ever known.”

Johanna Mason X F!Reader

Warnings: Death, cursing, normal hunger games warnings, and brief mention of suicide.

Nothing about Y/N ever screamed ordinary to Johanna—you were every bit exciting and amazing from the day she met you until the day Snow stole you away. You were the kind of summer sunshine that brightened everyone you met in Seven, and Johanna was far from that. She was rigid and harsh, like salt into a wound. And for some reason, you were glued to her side.

“Joooooooooooo—” You drag out the nickname, throwing yourself across the lounge in the living room. You were going crazy watching her get ready for the tour, bored out of your mind—but you were here. Hardly left this house since Johanna came home.

She hmmms, turning in your direction and smiling as she spots your smile—you were the only reason she had left to smile. The Games had taken just about everything from her, but as you pout and reach out for her. Johanna is a fool for you, an absolute idiot. The cameras would be here shortly, but you did more than preoccupy her—you kept her sane.

“Yes Y/N?” You continue to reach out, gesturing her close and watch as she finally lets her resolve call and gives in. Something about how your palm melts around her fingers as she lets you pull her close, warmly smiling throughout the entire motion. That feeling just gives her a sense of belonging, of importance—that she wouldn’t trade for anything else.

“Is there something you need?” You feel the hum of her breath as she lays spooned against your chest. You know she’s smiling, even if you can’t see it.

“Nothing more than this.”

.

.

.

Johanna had walked into Victor’s Village like it was any other day, the Games had ended—her tributes dead, and the idea of holding you was just about the only thing on her mind.

First, she imagined herself walking in and you’re there to greet her. You don’t even wait for her to toss away her things before you have embraced her close. Your face buried in her shoulder, everything would slip through her fingers until they were free enough to hold you back.

Second, by the time you let go—Johanna would be relieved, the hate would melt away and that would be enough. You would smile at her, not happy or sad—but that soft and warm smile because you knew what she felt. Knew what she had seen.

Third, you would lead her to the living room where fresh tea and bread would be waiting. A soft spreadable cheese still cool, because you wanted everything to be perfect.

Fourth, she’d sit there all night with you in her arms. Trying to imagine anyone else, and unable—knowing that you were the one made for her. A perfect incarnation of sunshine, and even when she burdened you with her Games. You were always there when she woke up in the morning.

Five, every year was the same thing… Johanna liked that she knew what to expect from you at every turn. The simplicity of knowing where your head is at. It made up for the unpredictability of the Games themselves. Took her far away from those thoughts.

Si-, the door is ajar—Johanna hesitates on the porch, something about the rush of blood to her head makes the world sit sideways. On edge. Like she’s trying to walk through the portal.

You never leave the door open.

Seven, she finds the courage to place her hand against the rough edge of the door. One slip and her fingers would be splintered, it was as if someone had forced their way in. Breaking the trim. There is no rush of fresh bread, or sweet candles you burned so often. There was no you at all. Just a long empty hall. One that is too quiet.

Ei-eight, Johanna knows what’s coming before she even turns the corner… something about the thick metallic smell had a mist already formed in her eyes. She couldn’t even feel her hands that guided her through the home, but there you were.

Nine. She stares at the note as if it could burst into flames, willing it to—Snow. It was easy to decipher the meaning. She got nine years with Y/N. Her perfect match. And Snow gave her nine chances to accept his offer, and she refused them all. Too loyal to her Y/N…

Johanna saw her fair share of dead bodies in the arena, but when the note slips out of her fingers. Her body had gone into autopilot, rushing your form that is hidden by the coffee table.

“Y/N!” Her knees ache as they hit hardwood, the heavy pound of her heart is all she hears as she tries to find a pulse. To will your heart into a steady beat, but it is already gone. And all Johanna could do was sit there and know. “Please don’t-” The words broke off, because they didn’t matter.

You were already gone.

Johanna sat there for the rest of the night, wishing for any sign of life. She could barely stand it when the peacekeepers finally came for your body.

The rumors said you did it to yourself, downed a bottle of pills, but Johanna knew better than that. Knew the edge to her voice was warranted as she tried to silence ever lie, because you wouldn’t.

You didn’t.

Snow just made it seem like you did. That Johanna had finally told you one too many stories, put one too many burdens on you.

She had nine chances, and chose you all nine times… and inadvertently, ended it all.

.

.

.

In District Thirteen, Johanna still found herself seeing you as she did in the Capitol. You were smiling again, the morphine induced visions seemed more joyous than those made by torture. You laid with her, and smiled—made the worst of the dreams disappear.

Even when the morphine wore off, you were still there and Johanna appreciated the memories. Sometimes, if she let herself forget about your death—she would almost believe you were still alive. That it was really you watching over her. Just like you promised you would.

Watching the wedding, something in Johanna felt emptier wondering if she would have married you? She would have asked eventually, no one got her the way you did. You knew when she was upset, or sad, or happy by the smallest twitch in her expression.

Would you wear a dress? Would it be white? Would you kiss her in front of no one, with no family or would your friends be there? Would you have lived through the games? The revolution?

Katniss is next to her, but Johanna’s mind is far off—wondering where you are. How you are? Did you finally figure out what’s after death? Will you still be waiting for her?

“Her name was Y/N…” It was unprovoked, but it was the first time Johanna had managed to speak your name out loud. She couldn’t bare to say a syllable after you died, it was like sending shockwaves through her whole body. Every. Single. Time.

“What?”

“The girl I love. Her name is Y/N.” Johanna briefly sees a flash of your eyes from memory, the brightness shining through even though it is only a thought.

Katniss could hear the echo of what Johanna had said during the Quell: “There’s no one left I love.”

“Snow killed her a year after I won. She was just about the only person I cared about, someone ought to know that much.” She pauses, the words caught in her throat as she looks over at Katniss.

“He has to pay for what he’s done.”