fundamentally

Effie

Peeta had vanished and Effie had lost her bloody mind. Off the rails. They put the show on hiatus and he'd caught her home once changing her clothes and she'd been so high he wasn't even sure she recognized him. As painful as this was, John is certain he can't do anything. No one will step in and it's not as if she'll listen. He can only hope she comes round before she's a tragic death on the front page of the Darrow Daily, accidental drink and drug death...

He's come today as he comes every day to take care of Princess. He feeds her and plays with her and pets her. And yes, he wanders the flat and fusses with her pillows and dresses and wigs.

He misses her so much. So terribly much.

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Her skin feels cold again as she looks up at him, her brows knit and her eyes searching his face like she expects to find the answers there to all her questions. She doesn't know what she's meant to feel when he says these things to her. Doesn't have the frame of reference for these kind of truths and that's what chills her. That she knows without a doubt he's telling her the truth and for a moment she wants him to take it back. Wants to tell him that she can't be all this to him because nothing here lasts and everyone goes away and because she's made all the wrong choices and he deserves better that to keep picking her up when she falls.

But the chill passes as quickly as it came and the confusion is replaced with a smile and eyes that burn with tears she refuses to let fall because she's done crying. She chose to come back, she's chosen to stay, and even if they both disappear tomorrow it won't change what either of them feels. She has to remember that. She has to keep remembering that. So she strokes his cheek and she kisses him softly and she urges him harder, stronger.

He hadn't really expected her to say anything. He's come to learn that Effie can talk and talk about things of little consequence but it takes quite a bit of her effort to discuss things like love and souls and that's alright. He doesn't need her words when he has her kiss, when he's licking into the warm cavern of her mouth and tasting her sweetness. Hands clutch at her and the rod of hs cock draws back and accidentally find the mark so when he tries to find her clit again, instead he sinks into her cunt.

"Oh, fuck," he groans. "Wrap your legs round, babe. Hold onto me."

She gasps when he fucks into her, the pleasure of it so sharp and so immediate she can't help but dig her nails into his back and let her eyes fall shut again. He fills her up like he was made just for her and she wraps herself around him just like he tells her to. Holds onto him just like he tells her to. And she whispers "always" against his ear before she nips at his skin.

Hand in his hair because she can never stay away from it, she pulls him closer, brings his lips to her neck. Needing to feel his mouth and his teeth and the heat of his breath. "I love you," she says because she doesn't know what else there is. Doesn't know if anything could be more true. "Only you."

"Mmm, you better," he says, smiling against her neck before licking the curve of it. "No matter who fucks you...no matter who has their tongue in your cunt...I'm the one you love, yeah? I'm the one you come home to. I knew you'd come back. I knew you wouldn't vanish. I'm sure you're needed back in Panem, sure you have a part to play...but, Effie? I need you here. I need...I need you here. The universe has to feel it. My love. My darling. My Effie..."

He's gasping, his hips snapping hard as he punctuates his tender words with a rough fuck he knows will ground her.

"I won't go back." She says it like she can make it true by refusing to allow for the possibility of any doubt. It's another skill she was forced to master in the life she'd chosen but this time it's one she clings to because it's the only way she can go forward. She will stay here because she refuses to recognize that any other option exists.

She needs it to hurt, she needs it to be real and he knows that. He always seems to know just what she needs and she scraping her nails across his scalp and taking it harder. And then just a little bit harder. Moaning and gasping around the words. "You keep me here. Love you. Always you."

"I'll not let you go. I'll chain you to the foot of the bed and keep you like a pet before I'll let any capricious whatever take you from me," he growls. He grabs her leg and hitches it higher so he can fuck into her hard and deep, shoving her up the mattress into the pillows and chasing her along.

"You're mine. You bloody hear me? I've made a decision. I've made a decision and you're mine. Mine and I'm keeping you."

Her heart is pounding in her chest and she can feel the blood pumping through her veins and for the first time in far too long she feels warm. Hot to the touch. Like he's fucked every last trace of ice from her body and there isn't even the ache of thawing. It's just them, and their skin, and her flesh in his hands and the sound of her harsh breathing and skin against skin. All the things he's saying wrapping themselves around her like he's tying her to this place and to him with words. She chooses to believe that he can.

She grabs his hands and tries to get him to hold her wrists. She wants him to hold her there. "Yours. Hold me down, John. Keep me here." And the harder he fucks her the more she can't keep quiet. Pants, and grunts, and harsh breath against his neck where she presses her lips against his skin and nips at the line of his jaw.

He grabs her roughly and pins her delicate wrists to the bed. Her stringy blonde hair tangles on the pillow and her eyes rimmed red are blown with lust and need.

"Fucking take it," he says roughly, fucking her harder. He's so focused on her he ignores the heat in his groin. He wants her to explode, wants her undone. "Fuck me back. Make it good. You know what you like you slutty little bitch," he purrs affectionately.

She arches her neck and pulls at his grip on her arms just to feel it tighten, to make him have to work to keep her down. His fingers are wrapped tight and she can feel the bruises forming and the bite of her nails digging into her own palms. It's exactly what she wanted.

Tipping her hips she does what he tells her to. Fucks him and takes him and gets him just to the right spot on every thrust and it's too much and it's just enough and it's the most clear and alive she's been since...everything. Nothing dulled, nothing blurred, just them. Right up against that edge and then over it until she's coming and clinging and empty of everything except him.

His hand moves from her wrist to take hold of her throat, controlling her rather than actually choking her. He speeds up then and drives in until he fills her with the pulsing of his release. Once spent all he can do is sink onto her and kiss her where he can reach.

"My love. My precious. My darling," he murmurs between kisses.

Still trembling, she wraps her arms around him, hand in his hair and holding him close. Her heart continues to flutter in her chest but she feels utterly calm down to her bones. Warm and relaxed and as safe as she can ever remember being. Her victors are gone and she's can't protect them now, but she trusts that Haymitch will do everything he can for them. She trusts them to protect each other. And she has to let that be enough because she's still here.

She's here, and John is here, and they have each other. She has to believe she's allowed some kind of peace with him. That she has the right to try and find happiness. "I'm home, sweetie. Everything is going to be ok now."

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Effie

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