7 Minutes in Heaven- Hunger Games (Girls only)
Congratulations! You got Thresh Wulhum!
You twirled the grain of wheat. It was the colour of precious gold and it rocked. You glanced at the dark-skinned boy as he stood, walking towards you. He was tall with strong built, muscles covering him. He lifted you up easily and Katniss looks at him as she leads you towards the closet. His grip was strong, maybe more so than Cato's, crumbling your bones. Thresh.
Thresh leaned against the wall as the door was closed, rocking back and forth. You chewed your bottom lip, unsure. He was one of your friends, yes, but other than that, he was nothing more. "So, Wulhum, rock-paper-scissors?"
He chuckled deeply. "Why not?" he shrugs before both of you changed the words and threw your preffered icon. He made a scissor and you, a paper. You grunted while he whooped a bit, pumping his fist into the air. You shove him and he shoves you back.
Soon, the whole closet was vibrating due to your shoves and pushes. With a tackle, he pushes you to the cool, wooden flooring. "Wulhulm, you're heavy. Get off, man," you grunt while he shakes his head. You groan and he just laughs again. Brother; yes, that's what you thought of him.
Thresh presses his cold lips against your temple and you groan. "Hate it?" he asks and you nod. Mushy stuff, eh? He rolls his eyes and he brushes his fingers down your sides, feathering you. You howl with laughter as the tickling gets to you and he smirks. He just continues, humming every now and then.
With a swing, the door opens and Katniss stares in shock. "7 minutes and you guys use it for tickling? What the hell," she comments as Thresh pulls you up. You both look at each other before bursting out laughing. So, he wasn't someone you thought of as a lover; but still, he was a a great not-related-by-blood brother.
7 Minutes in Heaven- Hunger Games (Girls only)
Congratulations! You got Finnick Odair!
You dip your hand into the satchel and you grab a thread. It was golden, like the colour of wheat and it shimmered faintly. A blonde with sea green eyes smirked at you, his thin lips upward. Finnick. He saunters over before grabbing your hand and pulling you off ground, completely startling you. Katniss opens the closet and pushes you and he inside with a smile. "7 minutes, Odair; remember that." Finnick smiles and ,as she closes the door, he wastes no time, pushing his body so stifling close to you. "So, beautiful, do you have any secrets worth my time?" he asks flirtatiously, his tone a seductive purr. You shake your head and he inches closer. He laughs. "I highly doubt that." "Shut it, Odair," you answer and he feints innocent hurt; but he continues pressing on. He leans towards your ear, his breath fanning your skin. You flush slightly and he chuckles deeply, velvety was the sound; like the tumbling ocean waves. "Move away." "We still have quite a bit of time, beautiful; let's have some fun," Finnick whispers. With a sudden movement, his lips were onto yours, latching. With such less air in the small closet, sweat rivulets started to drop. You know his lips are curving upwards into such a smile as he presses closer till your back is against wood. His hands cup your face as you place your hands upon his broad chest, trying to push him away. A shred of light and he pulls away. Katniss stood against the closet door, laughing all the while. "Someone enjoyed themselves," she states, a tone of mocking humour in her voice. Finnick just shrugs and placed his hand on your back before pushing you. "Fun would be an understatement," he winks at you flirtatiously and the heat rises, dusting your cheeks with tones of red. He then sits across you, cross-legged.
Congratulations! You got Peeta Mellark!
You plucked the item from the satchel. It was a dandelion. White as snow and delicate as ice, its blossoms soft as a feather. A blonde boy bites his lower lip as he offers his hand, which you gladly take. Peeta. Katniss smiles, although quite somber, and pushes both of you towards the closet. "Play nice, Peeta," she jokes and the boy nods. You can tell by his shifting that he's uncomfortable. The door closes and you raise a brow at him, since he's just shifting and shifting. He turns his striking baby blue eyes towards you. "Mellark, do not do anything inappropriate," you jest; but he seems to take it seriously as he blushes a bright scarlet. You smirk, amused. A bulb clicked in your head and you draw closer to him. You breathe and he shudders. Then, you moan, quite provocatively, in his ear and his blush turns redder. "Looks like Mellark's quite sensitive." "I'm not!" he defiantly denies. You roll your eyes and moan, more softly and seductively this time. He blushes deeper. You trace your finger down his arm and goosebumps prick. Your smirk grew wider. You breathe against him and once more, he shudders. "Stop it!" "Make me," you moan loudly and more passionately in his ear. Your fingers draw intricate patterns and he looks so close to banging his head. The door opens suddenly and your amusement ends. Katniss stands there, looking shocked and confused. "Hey." "What were you doing?" Katniss asks. "Oh, nothing much. Just finding out that Mellark has never lost his chastity; he's still a virgin," you answer and he blushes when he steps out. "Shut up!" Peeta murmurs, cheeks painted vividly red.
Congratulations! You got Cato Hurley!
The poisonous liquid sloshed as you shook the vial. It was Nightlock, a lethal berry. You pondered for a moment at who would put death inside the satchel. And then, he, the blonde boy, roughly grabs your hand. You felt like a million bones were crushed. You stare into his sadistic and mocking azure hues. Cato. Katniss sends you a sorry look, one that's full of piety. She escorts you and he, opening the door and glaring at him. "I swear, Cato, if you as much scratch her, you're dead." Cato smirks cruelly, brutally, at her and Katniss narrows her eyes. He drags you into the closet and slams it shut, startling you quite a bit. Cato pulls you close and snarls with a smile. "What do we do? More importantly, what do I do?" "You tell me, Hurley," you answer pointedly. With a slam, his fist collided with the wood beside you, trapping you efficiently; not like you weren't trapped already. "What the hell, Hurley?!" "You're not allowed to talk to me with that tone of yours," he spats viciously, baring his teeth. "Says who?" "Me," he lashes out. "And besides, you'd be in trouble if you don't sew that mouth of yours." You scoff but soon understand his words were no bluff. With a pull, he yanked you towards his lips, his fist balling the collar of your shirt. You gasp as he roughly angled you, letting you hover above ground for a few seconds. He lets you down, but he doesn't leave you, instead, deepening the kiss and pulling you towards his chiseled, stone-hard chest. Taut muscles surrounded you and you felt disgusted, yet, at the same time, blissful. The door was opened forcefully and the brunette stands there, furious, at first, but then agape. Cato pushed you away roughly, colliding your back with the wood before licking his lips, completely satisfied. Then, he leans close and whispers. "You see? I told you you'd pay." He saunters forward and Katniss fumes. "I didn't scratch her; I just bruised her," he spats and Katniss was on her last thread. You hobble out of the closet and catch a glimpse of Cato with a deliciously insane craze in his eyes, a sadist's smile on his lips.
Congratulations! You got Gale Hawthorne!
Your pad bled as a sharp point pricked your finger. It wasn't very sharp, but sharp enough to tear one's skin into a trickle. A rusted arrowhead was the one guilty and you see a tall brunette with mussy hair. His eyes were blue, like the colour of cold sapphire. Gale. Katniss laughed slightly, all the while ushering you and the teen into the dark closeness of the closet. The closet door creaked as it shut and soon, the cramped space was void of any light. You glance at Gale, who seemed to be intent on doing nothing. "This is boring, you know," you point out, stating the obvious. He shrugs as if it was nothing but a wee bit of trouble to his worries. "Are we just going to sit here?" "Maybe," he whispers softly. You groan, brushing a strand of hair out of your eyes. Something felt sticky and you just remembered that your tip was bleeding. His gaze averted to yours in an instant as you curse. "You okay?" "Yeah, jut a bit of blood that I need to wipe off," you shrug and he walks towards you. He takes your hand and places the wounded finger on his lips, the suction of his irises never leaving yours. He kissed it away like the summer rain and you see nothing but skin as he released it. "Why?" He shrugs. "Your blood tastes sweet, like sugar and roses," he answers and you laugh. "I guess now I know why those pesky mosquitoes like you so much." You look at him with wide eyes before laughing loudly. He cracks a smile before placing a chaste kiss upon your temple. The door creaks open and reveals Katniss. "Hope you enjoyed your 7 minutes." "The best," Gale answered and you smirked.
Congratulations! You got Haymitch Abernathy!
You look at the bottle with utter confusion. It was of high standing, yes, and you knew it used to hold such desirable and expensive liquor. But just who in the right mind would-. Your thoughts were cut off as you heard the growing incoherent mumbling and slurred voice. A man with shoulder length dirty blonde hair looked at you, his eyes clouded with unknowing and a hiccup escaping his lips. Haymitch. Katniss reluctantly leads the already drunk man into the closet, you following closely behind. "Be careful around him. He's quite the slob," she advises and you shove her a thumbs up. With a sigh, she closed the door, leaving you alone with the drunkard, "Well, well," he hiccuped, his voice slurred from the alcohol, "if it ivn't yoouu, Sweeethearrt." You rolled your eyes at the man. He was obviously wasted. You shoot him a glare to shoo him away but he stumbles towards you, his consciousness swimming through the lines of unconsciousness. "Abernathy," you growl. "Get. Off. Me. Right. Now." He lets out a sloshed laugh. "I doon't vink so, Sweetheaart," Haymitch answers. With a grunt, his lips straddle your neck and you prick, goosebumps trailing your skin. He buried himself further into your skin, all the while ramming you against the wood. His hands were strong as they pinned your arms above, his lips now greedily latching against yours. "Shit, Abernathy. What did you drink?" you asked through his kiss, feeling yourself lose almost every single control as his alcohol transfers into your bloodstream. A small chuckle ripped through his throat as he continued to indulge himself. He was disgusting, but, right now, even when drunk, he almost seemed. . . Normal. Your fingers tangle in his curls and his lips part only to attack your collarbone. "Damn." "You must be enjoying this," he whispers with no hint of slur. Your eyes went wide as he had tricked you all along. He laughs as he feels you jolt underneath him. And then, the door opens and Katniss stands glued, her eyes bulged. "Nice to see you too, Sweetheart." "I can't believe you're even letting him touch you when he's drunk," she shudders, leading you out while Haymitch happily saunters back, swiping a glass of Chardonnay from the bar. "And to think I even felt sorry for you." You laugh and Haymitch winks at you. You roll your eyes.
Congratulations! You got Marvel Hayce!
The facets were smooth, like a star shining ever so brightly. It was a beautiful forest green, refracting and bouncing the lights away, making the room glow. It was a precious gem, an Emerald. A teen walked towards you, sandy brown locks swaying and forest green irises glinting. He was tall, 6'2 high, almost as tall as Thresh. He reached his hand out and you took it before he pulled you up. It was almost amazing how such a thin teen would be able to hold such power. Marvel. A whistle comes from the circle and you turn around to see Cato doing such frivolous actions. Dear Lord. Katniss leads both of you into the closet and shuts the door with a small smile. Marvel smirks slightly at you before taking a strand of your hair and twisting it. "So. . ." "Yeah? What is it, Hayce?" you ask and he chuckles before kissing the twirled lock. You never really hated him, but you never really loved him either. You were just fortunate to get him instead of Cato. His mossy depths swirled in the midst of darkness, a hint of mischief and sweet romance. "Hmmm. . . I was just thinking how it'd go," he answered vaguely, letting the lock drop and you cock an eyebrow. He just gives a low chuckle, turning your brain into mush further. "I mean, if I would do this." Marvel kisses you softly, gently. His fingers found way into your hair once more, tugging at the strands as you stood there, stupefied. "Do something," Marvel mumbles through the kiss incoherently. You took a minute to register his demand before actually moving slowly to your own accord. He twitches slightly before pulling you close towards him, his hands leaving your hair and resting on your arms on both sides. "Yeah. . . Better." He was different. His touch was kind, as if he didn't want anything to break you. He pulled away and kissed your temple as the door opened. Katniss was apparently confused and shocked as Marvel's lips were still upon your forehead. "Well, that was. . . . Amusing." Marvel just shot a smirk before wrapping an arm around your shoulder and walking out together.
Congratulations! You got Thresh Wulhum!
You twirled the grain of wheat. It was the colour of precious gold and it rocked. You glanced at the dark-skinned boy as he stood, walking towards you. He was tall with strong built, muscles covering him. He lifted you up easily and Katniss looks at him as she leads you towards the closet. His grip was strong, maybe more so than Cato's, crumbling your bones. Thresh. Thresh leaned against the wall as the door was closed, rocking back and forth. You chewed your bottom lip, unsure. He was one of your friends, yes, but other than that, he was nothing more. "So, Wulhum, rock-paper-scissors?" He chuckled deeply. "Why not?" he shrugs before both of you changed the words and threw your preffered icon. He made a scissor and you, a paper. You grunted while he whooped a bit, pumping his fist into the air. You shove him and he shoves you back. Soon, the whole closet was vibrating due to your shoves and pushes. With a tackle, he pushes you to the cool, wooden flooring. "Wulhulm, you're heavy. Get off, man," you grunt while he shakes his head. You groan and he just laughs again. Brother; yes, that's what you thought of him. Thresh presses his cold lips against your temple and you groan. "Hate it?" he asks and you nod. Mushy stuff, eh? He rolls his eyes and he brushes his fingers down your sides, feathering you. You howl with laughter as the tickling gets to you and he smirks. He just continues, humming every now and then. With a swing, the door opens and Katniss stares in shock. "7 minutes and you guys use it for tickling? What the hell," she comments as Thresh pulls you up. You both look at each other before bursting out laughing. So, he wasn't someone you thought of as a lover; but still, he was a a great not-related-by-blood brother.
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