Rating: M
Fandom: The Hunger Games
Summary: Katniss braves the thunderstorm to go hunting, leaving Peeta behind in the cave. She has no luck with game, but finds something a little more foxy.
PROMPT: Katniss/Foxface, rain
Pairing: Foxface/Katniss
Characters: Katniss, Peeta, Foxface
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/plot from the Hunger Games.
Banner: Made by me. Stock image by .com/

.com/

I step back and look at my handiwork. Peeta has both food and water within reach, and looks relatively comfortable propped up against the stone wall. His eyes are drifting closed, and I know he'll be out in minutes. I crouch down in front of him and he smiles wanly.

"Think you'll be okay?" I ask, smiling back.

"How long are you going to be gone?" he asks, trying to sit up higher and wincing. I put a hand on his shoulder to stop him from causing anymore pain to himself and make sure he is calm.

"I'll be back in less than an hour, I promise. I'm just going to see if I can catch anything, although it's doubtful in this weather," I say as I look towards the covered opening of the cave. The rain is its usual torrential downpour, a constant for the last few days. Peeta nods slowly, his head lolling sideways. I leave a quick kiss on his forehead, before ducking out into the rain.

I walk slowly with my hunter's tread through the woods, even though I know it's pointless with all the sound of the rain. I can't hear anything with my good ear, especially when the thunder crashes. It's been hopeless hunting; every living creature is obviously smarter than I am, hiding somewhere and keeping dry. I brush back my soaking bangs, trying to keep the water out of my eyes. It's no use. I've just about decided that I'll turn around and head back, when I see a sudden movement out of the corner of my eye. I whip my head around and squint through the downpour, looking for the dark shape I just saw. There is nothing.

I make sure my bow is pointed and ready with an arrow, turning slowly in a circle. I know I didn't imagine that movement, but it looks like it's gone now. The trees are empty around me, but I cannot see very far.

I've just decided to lower my bow, when someone steps out from behind a large oak. She steps forward out of the gloom, hands in the air. When she is ten feet away from me, I finally can make out the fiery red hair, dripping down her shirt. Foxface takes one more step before she stops, looks me right in the eye, and looks at the knife in her hand. She drops it, and shrugs; a gesture of peace. I keep my arrow trained on her however, and eye her suspiciously. She looks unworried, and shakes out some of the water from her hair, pushing it back with both hands. I wait for her to move, but it seems like she is waiting for the same from me. I lower my bow slightly, keeping the arrow in place.

Foxface looks pleased at this, and chances a couple of steady steps towards me. She still has her hands in the air, and I lower my bow more. She smirks, and moves closer until she is a mere three feet away from me.

"Drop it." I am taken aback at her voice; it is completely different from her tone in the interviews. She is commanding, compelling, and I cannot help but obey. The bow and arrow hit the ground besides me without a sound.

She smiles again, tilts her head to the side, and regards me carefully. I stand tall under her gaze, water running down my face continuously. Foxface's figure is blurred slightly at the edges, her hair darker than usual.

After scrutinizing me carefully, she nods to herself and starts toward me so suddenly I almost back away. She is inches away from me now, and she isn't stopping and before my mind even has time to register what's happening, her lips are against mine, her arms wrapped around, and the air leaves my lungs. She is pressed against me hard, and her lips taste like rain. It's all I can do to keep upright. Her right hand leaves the small of my back and moves upwards and tangles into the hair that escaped my braid. Her lips are open, and I can feel the warmth of her breath across mine. She swipes her tongue across my bottom lip, causing me to gasp. Peeta's kisses aren't like this. She moving way to fast - what is she even doing? As soon as my mouth is open to hers, she shoves her tongue inside and explores my mouth. It is all I can do to keep breathing. I feel like I should push her off me, but I don't know how. My arms are moving of their own accord, wrapping themselves around her lithe form. Her tongue continues it's exploration of my mouth until we are both gasping for hair. She lets me go then, and takes a step back. Her lips are swollen and dark, a reflection of my own surely, and the contrast with the paleness of her face astounds me. Her pupils are huge, only a small ring of green surrounding them, framed by long, dark lashes. Her wet shirt clings to her body, showing me the way her chest is rising and falling with each breath. She leers at me, a predator's look in her eyes. She sees me watching her, and she can see her effect on me. Slowly, she raises her hands to the hem of her shirt, making sure my eyes are following. She winks once, before swiftly bringing her shirt up over her head and throwing it into the mud.

She is beautiful, a large bust with pale nipples peaked in the cold. The rain flows down her smooth skin quickly, giving my eyes a path to follow down her curves. She looks so soft and I reach out to touch her, to see if she's real. Her hand stops me though, and she shakes her head.

"Strip." It's her commanding tone again. I listen, lifting first my pack of arrows over my head and then my shirt. I feel small next to her luminous beauty, my tan skin and smaller breasts no match to hers. But I can see her gazing at me heatedly, drinking me in. She licks her lips, a quick darting of her pink tongue. I shiver in the cold.

She looks up and into my eyes again and moves forward. Her hands reach out and trail up my sides from my hips to my breasts. She slowly brushes across my nipples teasingly before cupping my breasts in her freezing wet hands. I let my own hands rise and watch as they cup her face and bring her plump lips back to my own. She returns the kiss hungrily, delving in deeper and deeper. I am aware of her hands moving lower, and tugging down my soaked pants. I do the same to her, unwilling to be the only one of us naked. She breaks the kiss again, and moves her hand to cup my mound. I gasp. No one has ever touched me there. She laughs harshly, and rubs back and forth, stimulating my sweet spot at each pass. I am panting, feeling a warmth well up inside me somewhere, when she suddenly stops. She lifts her hand to her face and inhales deeply. How she smells anything in this rain, I'll never know. She takes two of her fingers and brings them to my lips, pressing against them insistently. I open my mouth and take them in, not understanding.

"Suck," she whispers, leaning in. I obey, laving them with my tongue. They taste salty, with a touch of sweetness and I try not to gag as she persists in pushing them deeper.

"Good girl," she laughs breathily in my ear. She withdraws her fingers from my mouth, and moves them down again. I barely have enough time to wonder what she's doing, before I feel a stabbing of pain and they're inside me. I whimper as she starts to move them in and out at a fast pace. She just smirks, and pulls me in for another heated kiss. The rain has drenched us both, and I can feel her hair cascading down my chest, tangling with my own. It's a startling mix of scarlet and black, and it stands out against both the paleness of Foxface's skin and the tan of mine. I suddenly occurs to me that we are a perfect match, and I break the kiss in my surprise. She slows down the speed of her fingers, and starts to crouch down, licking a long warm stripe from my chest to my hips. I shiver again as her tongue gets closer to where all my heat is emanating from. She stops, and moves tantalizingly slowly from one hip to next. I groan, willing her to go lower with my mind. My hand pushes down on the top of her head, but she bats it away, taking her time.

Finally, she reaches the small bundle of nerves that is aching with need. She presses the tip of her tongue against it hard, and laves it quickly, up and down. I moan, long and loud, safe in the thought that the sound of the downpour will leave any noise I make unheard. I can feel her smiling into me, tongue continuously moving and hands gripping my thighs hard. I let my hands tangle themselves into her wet curly hair and close my eyes. She moves her tongue towards my entrance, barely brushing against it before moving back to her starting point. My hips are bucking against her face, and I can no longer feel the cold of the rain. The warmth is building up inside me, and I am quivering with the intensity of it, feeling like it is rising up inside me and I could explode at any moment. And then she stops.

Foxface looks up at me, a devilish gleam in her eyes, and yanks down on my legs. I fall in a heap on top of her, the mud beneath us splashing up everywhere. She grabs my faces for a deep kiss, before lying me down on my back. My hair is now the exact same colour as the mud beneath it, and my whole body is covered in the slime. It is strangely warm. I cannot help but shiver again, and Foxface's hands rub comfortably down my sides. Her mouth moves down again to my clitoris, and she attacks it with little licks, occasionally varying with long hard strokes. I stretch my hands out behind me, writhing in the mud. My eyes close again of their own accord as Foxface descends lower and starts diving in and out of me with her tongue. One hand leaves my hip and moves down to press down and rub me again, moving at the same pace as her tongue. I can hear myself gasping and moaning over and over again. My hips leave the ground and towards her face; wanting, needing more. The mud is splashing on Foxface, but she doesn't notice and stays focused on her task. I feel tingles running down my spine, and I feel as if I'm filling to the brim with heat, and this time, Foxface doesn't stop. I shriek long and loud, and my eyes roll towards the back of my head as I finally am allowed to go over the edge. I feel Foxface's hands and mouth leave my body as she sits up. I can still feel my powerful orgasm rolling over me, but I try to open my eyes against the rain to see Foxface's beauty again.

Instead, I see her luminescent form above me, and a metallic glint in her hand. I gasp, and jerk to the side, rolling over on the slippery ground. Foxface's knife goes plunging deep into the soft mud where my stomach used to be. She shrieks in anger, and wrenches the knife from the ground, turning towards me. My vision is blurred and my mind is struggling to go from hazed into overdrive, but I keep focused on that knife. Stupid, stupid, I am so stupid. I struggle to my feet, unable to find purchase on the ground, and dive to the side again as Foxface lunges. Her face is a mask of anger, and she looks fiercely deranged with that knife in her hand. She is soaked and naked, and her hair flies as she attempts to stab me once again. If only I had a weapon in my hand, I think, dodging again.

I slide behind her, and jump, pinning her into the mud. She is waving the knife around crazily, trying to stab anything, but my knee is pinning down her bicep. I punch her wrist, hard, and she drops the knife. I grab it in a second, and swoop down and stab her in the back. She screams in pain. I get up off her, and watch her carefully, panting with a bloody knife in one hand. I just stand and watch, getting a glimpse of pool blood flowering across her back, the exact shade of her hair, before the rain washes it away. It seems like hours, but really it is only a couple of minutes before I hear the sound of the cannon. Only audibly through the thunder if one is listening for it. I stand still and gather my clothes, my bow and arrows, a mere ten feet away. I crouch and wipe the knife off on some moss, and take one last look at the dead vixen behind me, before walking back to Peeta.

Peeta's head lifts immediately when I walk into the cave.

"What happened? Why are you - Is that blood?" Peeta's voice is all concern and shock.

"Foxface is dead," is all I can say, and I shiver as I join him under in sleeping bag.