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#peeta mellark x you
posionhaze · 3 days
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✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
peeta mellark
❥ baker boy
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waitimcomingtoo · 5 months
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Jealousy, Jealousy
Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader
Synopsis: Peeta helps Johanna unzip her dress in the elevator and it makes you jealous
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“Can I have a hand?” Johanna asked as she turned her back to Peeta. Peeta looked at you and Haymitch for a split second before shrugging and taking ahold of her zipper.
“Oh. Sure.” He said as he pulled the zipper down her back. Your head slowly turned to Peter and you stared at him with a slack jaw. Peeta looked at you and his smile immediately dropped. He adverted his eyes as long as he could until they found their way back to the scene in front of him. Johanna was looking between you and Peeta with a smirk when she turned around to pull her sleeves off her arms. Peeta and Haymitch couldn’t help but watch her as she undressed and dropped her clothes onto the elevator floor. It appeared that you were the only one able to keep your eyes on the ceiling as Johanna stripped out of her last piece of clothing.
“Thanks. Let’s do it again sometime.” She said as the elevator doors opened. She walked into the hallway fully naked and left a silence when she left. Peeta and Haymitch chuckled and exchanged looks as the elevator went up another door. Peeta then made eye contact with you and gulped when he saw the daggers in your eyes. You could not believe he had just looked at her the way he did. Seeing him unzip her dress and watch her made your blood boil in your skin in a way it never had before. You were so consumed with your jealousy that you didn’t hear Peeta try to change the subject and only knew she spoke when you saw his lips move.
“What?” You asked him.
“I asked what outfit you liked the best.” Peeta repeated. “I thought District 5’s was kinda cool. But it didn’t look very comfortable.”
“I don’t know. And I don’t care. I wasn’t looking at the other tributes.” You said and eyed him up and down as the elevator doors opened on your floor.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peeta’s face scrunched in confusion as he followed you out of the elevator.
“Nothing. I’m going to sleep.” You announced and headed straight for your room.
“You’re sleeping already? Aren’t you gonna eat?” Peeta asked with concern.
“I’m not hungry.” You said without looking back.
“I can meet you on the roof in a little bit if you want to hang out.” He offered.
“Not tonight.” You replied and disappeared into your bedroom. Peeta frowned and felt disappointment sink in over not getting the night with you that he thought he’d be getting.
“Uh oh.” Haymitch chuckled as he poured himself a drink.
“What was that?” Peeta asked and gestured to where you had just been.
“That, my friend, was you getting in trouble with your lady.”
“What?” Peeta blushed at what Haymitch called you. “She’s not even my lady.”
“But she wants to be.” Haymitch said pointedly and took a long sip.
“Y/n? There’s no way. She knows I like her and she made it very clear that she just wants to be friends.” Peeta insisted.
“Peeta, I don’t really know how they do things in 12 nowadays, so let me spell things out for you. That girl wants you but she’s way too stubborn to admit it to you or even herself. She doesn’t want to tell you how she feels because she wants you to just know. And she definitely didn’t want to see you undressing another girl right in front of her.”
“I wasn’t undressing her. I just helped her unzip her…” Peeta trailed off when he saw Haymitch raise his eyebrows in amusement. He realized how bad the moment in the elevator must’ve looked to you and began to panic.
“Oh no.” Peeta gulped. “Is she really mad at me?”
“Definitely.”
“What do I do?” He whined.
“Talk to her. And prepare to get hit a couple times.” Haymitch chuckled and patted Peeta’s shoulder as he passed him. Peeta thought about it for a moment and then went up to your room to do what Haymitch said and talk to you. He knocked on your door and you opened it pretty quickly as if you were expecting him. You had ditched your parade outfit and were now in some silky yellow pajamas.
“Hey.” Peeta smiled at you.
“What do you want?” You replied, making his smile drop.
“Just to talk. And I wanted to see you.”
“I’m really tired. I’m not in the mood to talk tonight.”
“Oh, okay. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want. I’m tired too. We can just sleep.” Peeta offered. You usually slept in the same bed to keep the nightmares away but there was no way you were letting him in your bed after what happened in the elevator.
“I’m gonna sleep alone tonight.” You told him with a tight smile.
“Oh. Okay.” Peeta said again and felt his disappointment settle in a pit in his stomach. Your cold expression suddenly melted to one of insecurity and you looked down the hallway as if you were expecting someone else to be there.
“Are you?” You asked quietly.
“Huh? Who else would I be sleeping with?” Peeta genuinely wondered, not realizing you were asking about Johanna.
“I don’t know.” You said quickly. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight. See you-“ Peeta was cut off by you closing the door in his face. He sighed and put his hand on your door before walking away.
“Tomorrow.” He mumbled.
When tomorrow came, he woke up in his lonely bed and went straight to your room. Your door was open and you weren’t inside so he assumed you already went downstairs. You weren’t there when he got to the table and let out another sigh. You were clearly avoiding him and he was not handling it very well. Peeta decided not to let it get to him and busied himself by making you a plate of all your favorite breakfast food. Haymitch watched Peeta scrambling to get back in your good graces and laughed to himself. You came down just as Peeta was finishing your plate and eyed him curiously.
“Good morning.” He greeted with you a smile.
“Morning.” You replied without looking at him.
“I made you a plate.” He said and put the plate in front of you. You stared at the plate for a minute and almost gave it and apologized for your cold behavior until you remembered the way he looked at Johanna last night. That was enough to make you lose your appetite so you pushed the plate away.
“I’m not really hungry.”
“You’re not? But you didn’t eat last night.” Peeta said worriedly as he sat beside you.
“Yes she did. For a hunter, you’re not very quiet. I could hear you rummaging for food all the way from my room.” Haymitch said to you.
“You came down to eat?” Peeta asked. “You should’ve gotten me. I would’ve kept you company.”
“Maybe I didn’t want your company.” You shrugged, making Peeta frown.
“Oh. Ice cold, sweetheart.” Haymitch chuckled. “You better watch your back in the games, Peeta. This one has death in her eyes.”
“You’re still mad at me?” Peeta whispered to you.
“Who said I’m mad at you?” You said without looking at him.
“I know you are. We usually talk on the rooftop and then sleep in the same bed. And then come down to eat breakfast together. You didn’t let me do any of those things.”
“Maybe I just need some space. We spend every hour together every single day. Excuse me for wanting some privacy for a little while.”
“We should be spending every hour together before we don’t get the chance. How long are you gonna be mad at me?”
“I already told you, I’m not mad.” You whispered harshly.
“Fine. You’re not mad. But when can we be friends again?” Peeta asked and tugged on your sleeve.
“Peeta.” You said warningly and pushed his hand away.
“Come on. I miss you.” He whined and tugged on your sleeve.
“I’m right here.” You scoffed but started to feel guilty for your behavior.
“No you’re not.” He pouted. “You’re far away.”
“Stop whining so much. You sound like my cat. And I hate that cat.”
“So you hate me now? All because I un-“
“Don’t.” You cut him off and got up from the table. You passed Effie in the hallway as you went back to your room.
“What’s going on? Y/n just told me she wants to train alone today.” Effie said as he joined the boys at the table.
“She’s mad at loverboy.” Haymitch said and pointed to Peeta.
“What did you do?” Effie asked him.
“Nothing. I didn’t do anything.”
“He unzipped Johanna Masons dress in the elevator.” Haymitch tattled.
“What? Are you insane?” Effie gasped. “You can’t do something like that in front of your lady.”
“Why does everyone keep calling her my lady?” Peeta asked. “She doesn’t even like me.”
“Of course she likes you. That’s why she’s so upset. She’s jealous.” Effie laughed like it was obvious.
“Jealous? Of me and Johanna? I don’t think I even said a word to her. I just pulled the zipper.”
“It’s not about Johanna, silly. It’s about you giving attention to another girl. That’s why she’s jealous. She wants to be the one you’re unzipping.” Effie explained, making Peeta choke on the water he had just sipped. He wiped his mouth once he stopped choking and sighed.
“I need to fix this.”
“Yeah. You do. Before she makes you her first target.” Haymitch told him.
“She wouldn’t do that. Oh my God. Wait. Would she?” Peeta worried.
“She might.” Effie shrugged and Haymitch nodded in agreement.
“Well what do I do? She won’t talk to me.”
“So don’t give her a choice. Go in there and show her that she’s your only lady.” Haymitch instructed.
“What if she tells me to go away?” Peeta asked.
“Stay.” Effie answered. Peeta nodded his head and got out of his seat to go talk to you. He knocked on your door but this time, you didn’t answer. Peeta took a deep breath before opening the door and going in. You were on your bed with your knees drawn up to your chest. You gasped when he came in and threw a pillow at his head.
“What are you doing in here? Get out.”
“No. We’re talking.” Peeta said and sat on the edge of your bed.
“Well I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Too bad. Because I want to talk to you. Please? I can’t take it that you’re mad at me. I don’t want to go in the arena without hearing your voice. Can’t we just talk?” Peeta begged.
“Fine. What do you want to say?” You asked him.
“That you’re a big baby.” Peeta replied.
“Excuse me?” Your eyes widened when you didn’t get the apology you were expecting.
“You are.” He insisted. “You don’t get to be mad at me for unzipping Johanna’s dress when I didn’t even know what was happening.”
“What?” You laughed nervously. “I’m not mad at you for unzipping her dress. Why would I care about that?”
“I don’t know why you care. But I know that you’re jealous.”
“Jealous? Oh, please.” You scoffed and got off the bed to get away from Peeta.
“It’s okay to admit it.” Peeta said calmly. “I admit that I was jealous when I saw you talking to Finnick. And his giant muscles that are always out.”
“They are, aren’t they?” You smiled coyly.
“Hey.” Peeta said defensively.
“You’re the one who’s jealous. Not me.” You said and pointed to him.
“Then how come you’ve been mad at me ever since I unzipped her dress?” Peeta asked and walked over to you.
“It’s not about the dress!” You exclaimed.
“Then what is this about?” He asked. You scoffed again and folded your arms to close yourself off. Peeta wasn’t about to give up that easy and put his hands on your shoulders.
“Please tell me. I miss my friend.” He said quietly. You sighed and looked into his big sad eyes.
“I don’t care that you unzipped her dress.” You admitted. “You were just doing what she asked. I care that you were looking at her when she took her clothes off.”
“In my defense, I’ve never seen boobs before.” Peeta stated, making you laugh for second.
“Me either.”
“Not…not your own?” Peeta whispered in disbelief.
“Yes my own. Never another girls.” You explained and smacked his arm.
“Oh. I was gonna say. I know we don’t have a lot of mirrors in 12 but I think they’d be kinda hard to avoid- “
“I don’t want you looking at Johanna, okay?” You cut him off. “Or any other girls. I hated it. It made my blood feel hot and my stomach dropped to the floor. And then I couldn’t sleep because I kept replaying it in my head. What is that?”
“Thats jealousy.” Peeta explained with a pleased smile now that he knew Effie was right.
“Oh. Well I don’t want to feel it ever again. I didn’t like it.”
“Well I didn’t like when you didn’t talk to me.” Peeta said quietly.
“I’m sorry. I feel like my life is completely out of my hands lately. But you and I are the one thing I have a say in. So when it felt like our relationship was threatened, I tried to gain control by shutting you out.”
“It’s okay. I probably would’ve curled into a ball and cried right in front of you if I saw you unzip some guys pants.” He admitted, making you laugh again. You chuckled and pulled him into a hug to apologize for being so cold towards him. When you pulled out of the hug, you kept your arms around his neck and looked into his eyes.
“So seeing me with Finnick really made you jealous?” You asked with a smirk.
“Yeah. I was questioning our alliance the second I heard him make you laugh.” Peeta replied, making you laugh.
“Yeah. I know the feeling.”
“Why do you think we got so jealous seeing each other around other people?” Peeta wondered. You looked down at the floor and sighed.
“I think maybe we underestimated our feelings for each other.” You admitted.
“We?” Peeta raised an eyebrow.
“Fine. I underestimated my feelings. When I saw you looking at another girl, I realized the only one I want you looking at is me.”
“As if theres anything in this world that could make me take my eyes off you.” Peeta said softly.
“Except for Johanna’s boobs.” You mumbled under your breath.
“You’re the only one I’m looking at right now.” He assured you. You smiled for a second, then frowned.
“But you’re not thinking about them, right?” You asked him.
“I’m about to if you don’t stop bringing them up.” He said out of the corner of his mouth.
“Maybe I can take your mind off it?” You asked with a shrug.
“How?” Peeta barely got the word out before you were kissing him. He wrapped his arms around you to deepen the kiss as your hands found their way to his hair. There were no cameras and no witnesses because it was just yours.
“So we’re friends again?” Peeta asked once you pulled away.
“I don’t know. I don’t get jealous like over just my friends.” You said coyly. Peeta picked up on what you were saying and felt his face heat up. He pressed his forehead against yours and looked into your eyes.
“Good.” He said. “Because I never wanted to be just friends with you.”
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quiet-out-there · 5 months
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summary: When Finnick notices how the reader's drink has been spiked with sex pollen at one of President Snows Balls, he and Peeta make a plan to save her from the special services the victors sometimes provide for the capitol. Finnick causes a distraction, while Peeta makes sure to take the reader away to safety, only the plan doesn’t go accordingly, and ends up with a sex crazed reader stuck on a closet.
Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader
Warnings: sexual content, slight dubious consent, fingering, lots of praise, dom!Peeta??, reader under sex pollen
Notes: This is my first attempt at a shortfic about Peeta Mellark, as I have been quite obsessed with him lately This story is a short fic with little to no plot, so, enjoy the smut ;) For any weird grammar mistake, feel free to correct me for as inglish isn't my first lenguage!
Word count: 6.6k
Giff: @xiaolanhua
Finnick cursed out loud, grabbing the attention of some of the most important and exclusive people in Panem who were nearby. They began to chuckle and whisper among themselves in return, clearly enjoying the sudden outburst of District’s four beloved victor. Peeta, on the other hand, quickly realized something was wrong, politely ending the conversation with an all too eager sponsor who was in the midst of trying to convince him to go back to her room together. She was old, caked with so much makeup her features were almost unrecognizable. Staring at her for too long made Peeta feel uneasy, as if he were in a fever dream, where everything was washed in an eerie distortion, almost normal but not quite. 
“Are you okay?” was the first thing he said once he got to Finnick’s side, standing beside one of the absurdly food collapsed tables at one of the ballrooms corners. He was holding a glass filled with sweet smelling liquor, his hand so tightly wrapped around it his knuckles were turning white. Peeta was sure it was going to burst into pieces in just a matter of seconds, so he quickly reached for Finnick’s hand, surprised to find little to no resistance as he took the glass away and set it on the table. The motion seemed to snap Finnick out of whatever trance he had been in, blinking at Peeta as if he were just now assessing his presence there.
“What?” was all he could manage to say, his eyes returning their focus to something far away, the feather of a muscle twitching as he grounded his jaw.
“What's wrong?” Peeta pushed, following the man's gaze in an attempt to understand what he was seeing that was making him so mad. Finnick had a temper, Peeta knew that, but it was always tightly concealed in that calm and easy-going facade he portrayed, his armor against everything. It took quite an effort to make him lose his composure.
“(y/n)” He answered, voice made of steel. Peeta frowned, eyes desperately trying to find what was going on, his chest tightening at the mention of your name, “They dosed her drink with an aphrodisiac powder.”
Peeta’s whole body froze, his eyes snapping back to the man beside him. 
“What do you mean aphrodisiac powder, what the hell even is that?”
But Peeta could already imagine what it meant, what they were doing it for. Anger rose in his blood like fire, pumping into his heart, beating so fast it was starting to make it hard for him to breathe -
“Finnick” He managed to get out, hand coming up to grab the man’s arm, turning him to face him.
“I recognized this man talking to Snow earlier” Finnick began, his eyes closing as one of his hands came to massage his temple, as if a piercing headache was making it hard for him to think “He is the one who arranges the customers for-,” he took a deep breath before opening his eyes to meet Peeta's wide ones “ the special services from the victors the capitol sometimes provides”
His stomach churned in a way that threatened to make Peeta vomit every expensive item of food he had ingested tonight, right on the pristine marble floor. He knew exactly what Finnick was talking about. Haymitch had told him about this business Snow ran, a way for him to further control the victors, make them pay for whatever rule breaking he deemed was done on their game, threatening their family’s life as a cost of it. But (y/n) had won fair, she had outsmarted the players, not the capitol, she didn't deserve this, she-
“I have been watching this man all evening, analyzing his moves, trying to figure out who Snow had sold to him,” Finnick continued, interrupting Peeta’s running thoughts. “It was easy enough to discover, with the way he has been practically stalking (y/n) all night.” An exasperated sigh escaped his lips “But something is different this time. He hasn't come up to talk to her and she is completely oblivious to him, as if she doesn't know what Snow has done, as if she hasn't been warned what would happen if she denies”
Her family, massacred. Peeta swallowed, his throat painfully dry all of a sudden. 
“That’s when I noticed what he was doing” Finnick’s hands bawled into fists by his sides, his eyes returning to scan the room before returning to Peeta’s, “They are drugging her, filling her with aphrodisiac poison that will make her unable to think of anything more than sex. They are making her into a puppet so they can take advantage of her, avoiding the resistance, the threats, the compromise on her part.”
“That is sick” Peeta breathed out, feeling lightheaded and utterly disgusted.
“People here in the capitol are absolutely rotten” Finnick spat, “I have been a victim of that drug before. It is so potent, it makes it physically painful to deny sex, it forces the body to need it on a primal level, triggering an almost survival instinct.” 
Peeta cringed at the thought of Finnick, barely a teen, being a subject to all this.
“We have to do something, we have to save her” Peeta rushed through whispered words, his eyes looking around them in search of anyone who could be eavesdropping on their conversation.
“Yes” Finnick agreed, “But we must do it inconspicuously, or they could end up hurting her even more.” 
“What is your plan?” Peeta’s breathing eased a little, his chest loosening at the reminder of Finnick’s clever mind. 
“Once the effects of the drugs kick in, she will quickly excuse herself to the bathroom. There, I will intercept the man, distract him. Make a big scene if I must.” The ghost of a smirk pulled at Finnick’s lips at the thought, before it was quickly wiped away as he continued “You will find (y/n) and get her the hell out of here, but not to her room. They will be probably expecting her there” Peeta shuddered at the thought, nodding at Finnick.
“Where is she now?” Peeta inquired, his eyes returning to the crowd, unable to find the girl in question.
“Near Snow’s fountain, to the left side of the room. She is talking to a man with a neon green top hat.”
Peeta found you instantly then, the loud pounding of his heart in his ears drowning any other sound. You looked so beautiful, he couldn't help to notice, with your hair pulled away from your face in an elegant updo, filled with colored jewels that caught and reflected every light on the ball room, like a beacon. Your dress was made of black jewels as well, hugging every hill and dip of your body in an exquisite way, a slit on the side of your hip revealing the tan skin of your right leg. And your smile, so bright as you laughed at some joke the man before you had uttered, it took his breath away- until he realized how your chest was moving rapidly, as if the air entering your lungs wasn't enough, at how your skin was covered in a sheen of sweet, some stray away hairs curling around the nape of your neck and around your face, and at the way your hands had begun to tremble, hiding the away by clasping them tightly behind your back.
“It is starting,” Finnick commented, straightening his shoulders as if preparing himself to move. Peeta did the same, struggling to calm his fast beating heart.
You offered the man another smile, this one polite, apologetic. The man dipped his head and moved out of your way, allowing you to begin moving into the crowd of people dancing on the dance floor, towards the other side of the room, where the bathrooms were located. Finnick nodded at Peeta, signaling to start moving the same way as you. They got to there first, and Finnick leaned forward to whisper right on Peeta’s ear, in a gesture that seemed like a warm goodbye from a friend to the ignorant eye. 
“I will go for the man, you grab (y/n) and leave right away, don't waste time on explanations until you are both alone and safe.” 
Peeta nodded, clasping his back as reassurance. He could do this, he told himself, willing his body to calm down, to gather his anxious thoughts. 
Before Finnick finally pulled away, he added in a tense, almost somber tone, so lowly his words almost got forgotten among the chattering crowd.
“Do what you must to help her, she’ll be glad it was you and not someone else.”  
Peeta’s brows furrowed in confusion, but before he could ask what Finnick meant by that, he was already being swallowed by the crowd, disappearing among the vibrant colors, the moving bodies, the discordant music that made Peeta’s teeth greet in discomfort. 
Peeta moved onto the side of the bathroom door, acting as if his shoelace had been untied and crouching down to fix it, avoiding anyone starting a conversation with him that could complicate his inconspicuous escape. 
It only took a couple of minutes before he heard your voice,
“S-Sorry, excuse me please” You sounded breathless, words tight in your throat, as if the mere effort to get them out was painful. 
Peeta got up then, instantly identifying you making your way out of the crowd in a desperate attempt to get to the bathroom. He walked up to you just as you took the door handle in your shaky hand, grabbing your wrist in a secure grip before pulling you along with him, without stopping to say anything. You gasped in shock, stumbling slightly over your feet before you could manage to keep up with his fast pace. You pulled at his hand in an attempt to be let go, but he ignored you, mind only focused on one thing-
The exit door, only a couple of steps away
 “Peeta!” you exclaimed as you finally recognized him, struggling to maintain a composure, smile wavering between a frown and a grimace of pain “What the fuck are you doing?” you whispered, feeling as though your vision was shaking, not being able to see people anymore, just shapes and colors merging together in a sickening spin-
You were going to throw up.
“I’m going to be sick” you pleaded, arm now falling limp on his firm grip, deciding to leave fate in his hands- unable to do anything to resist, and knowing deep down Peeta would never hurt you.
Peeta’s heart squeezed on his chest as he heard you, and he opened his mouth to explain -what? he did not know- anything to make you feel better, to help you understand what was going on,
But then a crushing sound vibrated across the room, making people gasp and scream in shock, their attention now focused on the other side of the room. 
Finnick
Peeta let out a sigh of relief as he got to the entrance door, which was luckily open, not a peacekeeper in sight.  He didn't waste a second to pull you out towards the main hall, where the elevator to the victor's rooms was.
“It will be alright (y/n), I promise” Peeta finally spoke, his voice just above a whisper, as he continued his way with unbreakable determination, both of your steps resonating against the glass floor the only sound in the spacious room “just trust me, okay?”
You felt as if Peeta’s voice was coming from underwater, muffled and far away- But still managed to understand.
“Okay” You replied, unable to voice any other word running through your dizzy brain - Your heart, you realized, it was beating so fast you couldn't catch a breath, and your skin, it felt so uncomfortable, so tight against your body- you wanted to rip it out. And the heat, the fucking heat
Peeta’s hand freed your wrist as he pressed the elevator’s button in a frantic pace, his other coming up to grip your hip, pushing so you stood in front of him, blocking the view of your body with his. 
You were so close now, bodies almost pressed together. His smell invaded you like the most intoxicating, addictive perfume you had ever sensed, tightening your chest in a silent hitch of breath - And his touch- so firm and strong, fingers pressing down on the overly sensitive flesh on your hip witch was barely covered in the thin material of your jeweled gown- it set flames through your veins
Peeta heard the rush of voices coming down the hall, right from where you had come, before he felt their quick heels clad steps coming closer. Whatever Finnick had done, it had set a commotion enough to make people begin to retreat to their chambers in a hurry. 
His eyes snapped to the elevator, the bright gold number still stuck on the 7th floor, and he realized it wasn't going to come by quick enough - They were already nearing the corner, they were going to catch the both of you, they were going to take you away and hurt you-
He secured your hand in his before he began to pull you further down the hall, your feet struggling to find their footing but managing not to stumble over them as you followed him. There was only one door in the hall, right on the end of it, a black metal block painted in bright gold. Peeta didn't bother to knock on it as he grabbed the handle, twisting it at the same time he pushed the side of his body on it to open it- and to his surprise and utter relief- it did. He didn't waste a second to push you inside, head twisting back one last time to see down the hall, where he noticed a couple of people beginning to appear, their vibrant colors striking against the pristine white walls and gold floor details. 
He closed the door behind him, leaving out the light from the hall, engulfing you both in complete darkness. He let out a long breath, his head dropping back against the door frame, a chuckle leaving his chest before he could stop it.
You tried to blink back the darkness, but your eyes were still struggling to adjust. Something was very wrong, you realized, as you couldn't seem to make the air from the space enter your lungs. You stepped back from the man in front of you in an attempt to gain some distance and ground yourself, but you felt the cool jab of metal meet your back- you twisted on the spot, freeing your hand from Peeta’s as you extended your arms in front of you. And you felt, to your utter horror, how on every side you were met with metal railings or the cool feeling of painted concrete walls. 
The space was tiny. A closet, of some sorts, you figured with a leap of your heart.
 “I can't” you gasped aloud, one hand coming up to clutch your chest, pulling at the absurd number of necklaces that had been wrapped around your neck- it felt as if you were choking “I can't breathe.” 
Peeta’s hands were instantly extended in search of you, his eyes wide in an attempt to see something, but only being met with darkness. 
“It is okay, hey, I’m here” He whispered, one of his hands brushing your shoulder. The contact made electricity run down your body, and you twisted in an attempt to get away from his touch, managing only to bump into the railing so hard, their contents began to fall onto the floor-
Peta cursed under his breath at the loud sound of stuff crashing against the glass floor, his heart drumming onto his chest as he felt the footsteps from outside alarmingly close. 
“Hey, hey calm down” He tried again, his hand grabbing your shoulder this time. And you tried to twist away again, desperate to get away from the warmth, the heat of his body, his burning touch-
it was too much, too much 
You pushed into the railing again making it crash against the wall in a loud bang. 
“(y/n)” Peeta rushed, his voice tight on his chest in anxiousness. But you didn't hear him, wouldn't hear him, needing to get away, desperately trying to do so-
Peeta felt the voices outside begin to wonder what those noises down the hall were, their loud cackling dimming down as if to hear better. He knew it was only a matter of seconds before somebody came up to investigate,
“Calm down” He ordered, voice low, almost a murmur. You could feel it vibrating on your chest, “We have to stay quiet, or they will find us.”
You tried to reason with his words, to obey, to understand what the fuck was going on - but then a pang of pain shot down your belly, taking the air from your lungs in a rush of a breath, before settling in a tight coil of aching between your legs. It made a whine fall from your lips before you could stop it, eyes closing as you hugged your body tightly.
Peeta’s heart stopped when he felt nearing footsteps, arms shooting forward when he heard your loud whine of pain at the same time, determined now to make you quiet. One hand found your hip as the other your arm, and he didn't waste a second to twist your bodies, so you stood with your back pressed to his chest. One of his strong arms circled your waist, locking you into him in a grip so tight you couldn't move an inch, as his other hand came to your face, palm pressing onto your mouth to silence any noise. 
And just like that, your senses cleared, they sharpened, they focused and circled on only one thing-
Him.
The way his warm body was pressed to yours, the feeling of his strong muscled arm wrapped around your waist, the way his chest pushed against you in every intake of breath, the feeling of his heart pounding so loud and fast against your back- and his god damn smell, so sweet and dark and intoxicating- it made the coil deep within your core tighten painfully, breath hitching on your throat.   
Peeta strained his ear to hear whatever was going on outside, the footsteps stopping just inches away, its shadow casting beneath the door frame. But it was so hard to concentrate on anything else that the way for body felt pressed to his - so warm he thought you might be having a fever-  and the way you were breathing so hard and fast, you were panting against his hand- but he could notice, he could see how much you were trying to do as he said, to stay still and be quiet, even if you were in so much discomfort 
“That’s it, calm down” He whispered, lowering his head so his lips were pressed to your ear, making sure only you could hear him. “You are doing so good” he praised, the words warm against your skin. 
The way he phrased those words was enough to make a shiver run through your spine and make your head spin with desire. You hadn't noticed the way you had begun to press further onto him, almost as if desperate to be closer, to feel him even further. And his hand, his fucking hand had begun to rub the side of your waist in a comforting way,
You were melting. But you wanted more, you needed more-
Peeta tried to ignore the way you had begun to move against him, how your breathing had changed to something deeper, how your mouth let slip little whines and moans against his hand. He knew it was the drug's effect, he knew you couldn't help it, he knew he had to maintain a clear head, to take care of you and make sure you stayed safe.
And then you felt it, as you ground your body against his, you felt something hard begin to press against your ass. It made something in you snap, a need so desperate and maddening, it made fire rush through your veins as if boiling from the inside out- it made your brain drunk and fuzzy with desire- and the pain, the excruciating coil tightening between your legs, it was too much, too much.    
Peeta felt your hand suddenly grip his, moving his arm away from your hip. He felt almost in a daze, as if unable to stop you as you moved it down your body. His breath hitched in your ear as you pressed his hand right between your legs, where you needed him the most. The thin material of your jeweled gown was the only thing standing between his fingers and your pussy- he could feel how warm you were, and cursed aloud when he noticed also how wet. 
“We can't” He whispered; voice slightly breaking as he felt you increase the pressure of his fingers “They have drugged you with an aphrodisiac. You are not thinking straight-”  
A moan slipped through your lips, muffled by his hand still pressed against your mouth. Peeta's eyes strained on the doorframe, noticing the shadow gone. He almost sighed in relief, until he felt the loud chuckles coming from outside-
they were still there.
Your brain couldn't comprehend anything else but the need for him. A need that was becoming so strong, the pain was unbearable. You could feel tears swell in your eyes as you gasped, your other hand coming up to push away his own from your mouth. 
“Please, Peeta, I can't take this anymore- I” you choked on a whine when you felt his other hand slip from away from your body “-I need you, please, just help me.”
You pleaded, head dropping back against his shoulder in utter defeat. 
Peeta cursed again, eyes tightening shut as he searched for the will to contain himself, to find a way to reason with you, to make you understand how this was so wrong-
But then he remembered Finnick's words. ‘Do what you must to help her,’ what did he even mean? Was this the only way you could go through this? You would hate him for it, Peeta thought, taking advantage of you like this- but you were in pain, you were literally crying and shaking in his arms, he couldn't stand seeing you like this, it was breaking him-
“Please” you whined, your own hand coming between your legs to relieve some of the pressure there in a futile attempt- you felt absolutely nothing.
“Okay” he murmured against your ear, telling it more to himself than to you, making up his mind. “How can I help you, (y/n), just tell me how.” 
You sigh in relief at his words, closing your eyes in anticipation.
“Touch me” you whispered, breathless “Please.”
Peeta felt lightheaded with the way you were so desperate, so needy for him. In any other circumstance, he would have given away with the first please ever uttered from your beautiful lips- because you were always so composed, so strong, so unwavering- hearing you like this was making him almost as desperate for you as you were for him.
“Please what?” Peeta couldn't help to reply, his voice just as breathless as yours, beginning to move his arms, tentatively resting his hands on your hips.
You groaned in frustration, beginning to push yourself away from him so you could turn around to face him when you felt one of his strong hands spread across your abdomen, pushing you right back against him. He was so strong, you couldn't help but think, imagining his hands pushing and pulling other parts, handling you as if it were nothing-
“Please, Peeta” you begged.
Peeta melted at the sound of those tight words in your throat.
“So polite” he praised, finally moving one hand to the side of your hip where the slit of your gown began. His callous warm fingers met your bare skin there and you sighed in content “Such a good girl” he whispered, mouth pressing down just below your right earlobe, in that sensitive spot that felt to good it sent tingles down your body and made you moan out loud before you could stop it-
Peeta’s other hand instantly moved to cover your mouth once again, roughly pushing your head back against his shoulder. 
“What was that?” A woman’s voice exclaimed from the hall outside, filled with delight “Sounds like someone’s having a good time!”
Peeta cursed on your ear, the words sounding even more coarse coming out of his mouth. 
You whimpered, unable to take the pain between your legs any longer- your heart was beating so fast, it seemed as if you couldn't catch your breath, your skin so taut you thought it might snap over your bones, and the heat- you thought you might pass out 
“Shh it’s okay” Peeta tried to calm you, his eyes glued to the shadows now outside of your door. Had they figured someone was inside here? “Be quiet doll, you can do it.”
You nodded your head in a haze, desperate to show him you would do anything he said. 
Peeta knew you couldn't take it any longer, practically limp in his arms, trembling in his grip. He took in a shaky deep breath before he began to move the hand on your hip underneath the surprisingly thin material of your gown. Your skin was so smooth and soft, and so, so warm- Peeta had to take a minute to just caress between your hip and upper thigh, savoring the feeling of your tender flesh beneath his rough fingers - before he heard your impatient cry from within his hand covering your mouth. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed the shadows beneath the door begin to move away, using the courage to finally dip his fingers between your thighs. His breath hitched when he noticed you didn't have anything under your gown, being met with your bare pussy right beneath his finger, hand freezing in place as the realization of what he was doing, and to whom, dawned on him.
He was about to fuck (y/n), districts four beloved 73rd hunger games victor.
“You are killing me” you mumbled against his palm, desperately pushing your hips forward in an attempt to increase the pressure of his fingers where you needed him most. So, he dipped his hand further, his muscled arm tensing over your belly as he did, bringing you flushed against him. And his fingers, ever so slowly, began to part your folds, his eyes closing as his head dropped down to lean on your shoulders at the feeling of your slick coating his fingers, smoothing his entrance. You bit his hand in an attempt to quiet the moan bubbling on your chest, head pushing back against his shoulder in an attempt to get a grip on yourself.
“So good” he murmured, lips tightly pressed to your ear “So good, so quiet.” 
You could feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as he began to rub your wetness up and down, right over the bundle of nerves that send electric waves of pleasure down your body. One of your hands came down to grip his arm, pushing it down with further force- Peeta instantly knew what you wanted, what it meant- and he obliged, increasing the pressure and pace of his fingers. 
The people outside began to cheer for something, the noise followed by clapping. Peeta didn't waste a second to remove his hand against your mouth, moving it down to your chin as he pushed your head further back, adjusting so his ear was right over your mouth-
“Let me hear you doll” He breathed, his fingers quickening their pace almost desperately so- feeling so good it made your toes curl and your thighs squeeze around his hand. And you moaned, so desperate and needy it would have embarrassed you if it weren't for the fact that that was exactly how you felt for him. 
“Peeta” you choked out in a gasp right on his ear, and that was enough to make Peeta lose his mind, a low groan escaping from his own lips, the sound so deep and hoarse it vibrated on his chest.
You could feel his erection pressed on your backside, so hard you knew we wanted you just as much at the moment. And you wanted to feel him, God, it was all you could have ever wanted, so you started to move your hand to your back- until you felt his hand suddenly stop, making you freeze in place. You could hear his ragged breathing, feel his heart pounding against your back-
“Look at me,” He whispered, interrupting the sudden silence. You opened your eyes, surprised to notice how they had adjusted to the darkness, able to see the outlines of the door, the metal railing filled with cleaning supplies- you were in fact, in a closet. And then you looked up, finding his beautiful face before you. 
He was so handsome; you had noticed that the first time you saw him. With his big, deep brown eyes and breathtaking smile. And now, with his messy blonde hair, his parted soft lips, his completely darkened eyes-
He looked delicious.
“You are absolutely beautiful” he murmured, the hand on your chin moving up to cup the side of your face. “(y/n)” he continued, a deep breath leaving his lips, fanning your own. You wanted to taste him so badly “You are not on your right mind, this is not what you want.”
You shook your head, exasperated.
“I want you so badly” you voiced in a shuddering breath “If you don't touch me right now, I think I might die.”
You used his stun position to free from his grasp, finally turning so you were face to face. He looked completely disheveled, his white tux discarded on the floor, and his matching shirt completely wrinkled, the first buttons torn and revealing a slit of tanned skin. 
“I-” He began but you couldn't resist any longer, shutting him up with a kiss. 
His hands were on you instantly, pulling at your hips to position you flush against him, to then wrap his arms around your waist to lock you in place. Your hand snaked to the back of his head, where you tangled them on his hair, slightly pulling it just to hear him groan again- it felt like fuel to the fire inside you. You used the moment to deepen the kiss, meeting his warm tongue inside his mouth. The kiss was desperate, hungry, lips moving feverishly against each other.
Peeta forgot about everything else, about the people on the other side of the door, about getting caught- he could only think about you, about feeling you against him, your lips on his, your tongue on his mouth- he wanted more. His hands began to roam your body, testing, feeling, kneading your soft flesh in a grip so strong you knew would certainly leave bruises. And then they were on your ass, squeezing so tight you moaned against his mouth- and he was lifting you up from the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist-
“I need you” You panted against his lips, finally breaking the kiss. The coil in your lower stomach feeling even more unbearable, the pain was making you see white dots in the corner of your vision “I need you inside me.”
Peeta leaned his forehead to yours, attempting to regain control of himself, to think straight. He sat your body against the railing, separating enough so he could see your face, meet your eyes.
And he stared at you, almost in awe before he spoke again, dropping his head back as if to force himself to stop doing it any longer.
“Your eyes” he breathed out, “they shine so black when you are hot for me.” 
You cupped his face between your warm hands, forcing him to face you as you once again begged-
“please”
Peeta wanted nothing more than to oblige - he would have lifted your gown and fucked you right there against the railings- but he knew he couldn’t. He couldn't, not when you were under the effects of a drug that altered your senses, your reasoning.   
So, he compromised. Not doing anything was torture to you, or so he told himself, moving so one of his arms could fit between both of your bodies while the other began to lift your gown and gather it just over your hips. 
“Are you going to be a good girl and stay quiet?” He panted, his ears once again registering the commotion outside. Seemed like they moved the party to the hall, he realized, glad that the noise had gone louder, hiding what was going on in the little storage closet down the corridor.
“Yes” you whimpered, unable to contain the tears swelling in your eyes due to the pain, and the excitement- 
Such a wreck for him, Peeta thought, brain drunk in desire.
“You are the one killing me, (y/n)” he murmured, holding your gaze with eyes so intense you thought he might be looking through you. 
And then his hand was between your legs again, slowly rubbing your wet folds, surprised at how they were more so than before. He quicken up the pace faster this time, taking his time in enjoying every sinful sound falling from your lips, your head falling back to lean against the railing- you gasped when you felt his other hand grip your chin, thumb and index finger pressing against your cheeks and forcing you to open your eyes
“Look at me” he panted, and you thought you might cum just by the way he was looking at you with so much hunger-
And then you gasped in shock as without a warning two of his fingers slipped inside you, his thumb continuing to rub on your sensitive clit. Pleasure shocked through your body making you involuntary shake against the rails, the pressure on your lower abdomen coiling impossibly tighter-
“I'm gonna-” you whined, head leaning forward to try and find somewhere to lean on, but Peeta’s grip held you there on place, forcing you to face him. 
“Say please” He breathed, lips hovering over yours, his fingers moving in and out of you with the perfect pressure, the perfect pace, and his thumb-
“Peeta” you whimpered.
He could feel how close you were, how your walls clenched around his fingers in the most delicious way- he thought he was close himself to climax, just by the way your face scrunched with pleasure, how your body became undone under his touch-
“Come on doll, ask nicely” He encouraged, needing to hear you beg, just one more time.
 “Please” you managed moan.
And he was merciless about it, plunging his fingers into you harder, faster, his thumb rubbing against your clit feverishly, curling his fingers and hitting just the perfect spot-
You become undone with his name on your lips, waves of pleasure erupting from deep within your tummy as the tight coil finally released, toes curling and body jerking. He slowed the pace of his fingers as he continued to ride you out of your orgasm, your shaking body finally collapsing into his, blind with gratification and exhaustion.
Peeta panted against your ear as he finally removed his fingers from inside you, proceeding to hold you tight against him before he lowered you from the railing back onto your feet- until he quickly realized you couldn't stand on your own, arms wrapping securely around your waist and across your back to hold you in place, your own coming up to snake around his neck in a solid embrace.
“Are you alright?” He whispered, his breathing still ragged, heart pounding loudly against your chest pressed to his- you on the other hand, were completely crashing, blood pressure dropping, white stars dancing in the back of your close eyelids. 
“hmm” you hummed, struggling to remain conscious.
“I think they left” Peeta voiced his thoughts, frowning in concentration as he listened for any noise outside- but it was completely quiet, he soon realized. 
You didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, brain completely fogged with satisfaction, body finally out of pain and completely relaxed on his arms, as if meant to be there all along.
“(y/n)” Peeta shook you, his tone finally above a whisper “Hey, I need you to stay here yeah? stay with me.”
You tried to nod but your head just fell limp against his shoulder-
He smelled so fucking good.
“Thank you?” He replied, amusement clear on his breathless words.
You hadn't realized you had voiced your thoughts out loud, a soft chuckle scaping your lips.
“You are completely out of it, aren't you” He sighed, leaning over you so he rested his chin on top of your head, attempting to calm himself down.
You frowned at the height difference, moving your feet, and realizing you were barefoot, heels completely lost somewhere in the tiny closet.
Once Peeta finally could catch his breath, heart in a slightly normal pace, he stepped closer to the door, your almost limp body secure in his strong arms. He pushed the side of his face flat against the cool metal, concentrating on identifying any sound that could indicate someone on the other side but-
Nothing. Silence.
“Okay” He murmured, nodding “Okay, we are going to come out, yes?”
You mumbled a reply, what? you didn't know, but it was enough to make Peeta nod again. You felt him loosen his grip on you making you react on clinging to him with all your strength, desperate to avoid the loss of contact.
“Hey, I’m here, I won't leave you” He assured you, hands pushing you by the hips to create some space between the two- and you were so completely weak, barely registering your body at all, that you couldn't avoid the separation. 
You frowned, opening your mouth to try and object, when you were suddenly being lifted from the ground and up on his arms again, this time in bridal style, with one of his arms holding under your knees as the other secured around your back. 
“Romantic” you gushed, chuckling again.
Peeta rolled his eyes, sheepish smile tugging at his lips, as he adjusted his body so his hand could twist the handle and open the door. He loosens a breath he didn't know had been holding as he registered the hall with quick assessing eyes, noticing it completely deserted.
You tried to blink at the sudden light, but it took just a couple of blinks before your eyes dropped closed again, as if the weight of them was impossible to overcome. 
“Your room is not safe” He murmured, beginning to make his way to the elevator with you tightly held on to his arms “We will go to mine.”
You nodded, the pull of unconsciousness so strong you were sure it was only a matter of seconds before you were out- so you snuggled closer to him, wrapping your arms across his neck and positioning your face right at the nape of his neck, where his smell washed over you and his warmth seeped to your skin.
And just like that, you were out with a content smile plastered on your face.
2K notes · View notes
bruisedboys · 5 months
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peeta mellark !!!! who loves all your insecurities likes it’s breathing <3 and who worships the ground you walk on because you’re his sun!!
peeta who loves your stretch marks even if you don’t. he’ll run his hands over the soft ridges, up and down, over and over. he’ll kiss the ones on your hips when he’s feeling lovesick (which is always) and he likes how you shudder under his mouth, say his name all breathless while you bury your hands in his hair.
peeta who doesn’t care if you don’t shave, it couldn’t bother him less. and if you do want smooth skin, he’ll offer to do it for you, claiming, “I’m an expert, sweetheart. c’mon, can I please?” you never say no, you can’t. he’s unbelievably careful and kisses your knees when he’s done.
peeta who loves your tummy and your thighs!! he’s always got a big warm hand on your thigh, or one under your shirt, kneading your stomach. they’re kind of his favourite parts of you. the parts he can squeeze all his love into. his favourite thing ever is when you wear a big t-shirt to bed so he has easy access to your thighs and tummy <3 better if it’s his t-shirt, of course.
peeta who braids your hair back for you before you sleep, no matter how tired he is. you sit on a cushion on the floor while he sits on the bed, fingers gentle as they card through your hair. sometimes you’ll fall asleep against his knee. he never has the heart to wake you up, so he lifts you into bed himself. you wake for a handful of seconds, enough to murmur a sweet, “thank you, pete.” he kisses your forehead, his way of saying you’re welcome.
peeta who takes your face in his hands when you cry, endlessly gentle. he swipes at your hot tears with his thumbs and curls his fingers behind your ears. “did you know you’re pretty even when you cry?” he’ll say. “how do you do that, hm?”
peeta whose love is hot like stars and infinite. he’ll go to the moon and back for you and he’s not afraid to let you know that <333
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quicksilversg1rl · 5 months
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gnawing at the bars of my enclosure rn
the hair???
🤣🤣 my kitty is MEOWING
2K notes · View notes
bayjaruchel · 5 months
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Strawberry Blond
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Pairing: Peeta Mellark/AFAB Reader
Rating: Explicit
Summary: Late one night, you get a call. (4.7k | originally posted on ao3 | Masterlist )
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You know that your relationship can never be normal. 
Even now, when you technically should have peace of mind— and you're out of the arena, out of the Games— there's still the ugly truth that lies beneath it all. The Victor's Village is beautiful in comparison to the rest of District Twelve, but because of the reason why you earned a residence here, you're not sure if you'll ever truly enjoy it. Brick houses with plenty of room, and yet yours is still far too empty, even if you have your family to keep you company. 
Peeta lives alone in his. 
There's always smoke coming from the chimney, and he keeps most, if not all of the lights on. The only room that occasionally has its lights off is his, which is on the second floor. You've woken up in the middle of the night many times and glimpsed the shining evidence that he's still awake. It's not like you get perfect sleep yourself— but you worry, sometimes. 
You do visit him, sometimes. But you've never knocked on his door when it's nighttime. You're not entirely sure why that is; maybe it's because you're afraid of what the cool silence will bring. Maybe it's too intimate. Neither of you are strangers to intimacy, and you've definitely maintained a little of that, but … There's still a certain distance. Away from the cameras, you still struggle to discern what's real and what's not. 
The way he looks at you is certainly real. 
You don't know if you'll ever feel exactly the same way towards him. 
Sure, you do like him. A lot. He makes it easy. He's the type of guy that you could bring home to your parents. He's the type of guy that one would want to come home to every day. Of course, he's a little more reserved, and his eyes are duller, but— he's still Peeta. He's still the baker's boy. Deep down, he'll never lose what made you— and all of the Capitol— fall in love with him. 
Is it really love, though? Or is it just admiration? 
It's something that you think about a lot. You've never said those three words to him when not in front of an audience. And he knows that on those specific occasions, it wasn't real. It was just an act. Maybe when he kissed you, he wasn't acting. Maybe when he looked at you and said those lovely things to you, he wasn't acting. 
You can dream. You can hope. 
However, most of your actual dreams nowadays are just nightmares.  
No golden boy is holding you, shielding you from the awful weather. There's no bright, happy future in which everything turned out right. And there's none of those strange, albeit interesting dreams where your house is upside down and your teacher at school is telling you that somehow, you've suddenly graduated and you're being sent off to the Capitol to become one of them. 
Instead, there's just fire. 
Tonight, you dream of fire. 
Burning bodies that fall from the highest trees. You can vaguely make out who they are— there's a sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach, a primal guilt. Everything around you is blazing, and you know you should try and get out, but your feet are frozen, rooted to the spot. You can't move, even as the flames begin to lick around your ankles. Even if you did run, you wouldn't be able to escape. This has been a long time coming, hasn't it? 
Despite the almost blinding brightness emanating from the fire, everything else is foggy and dark. The only thing you can focus on is the corpses, the trees, and everything coming down around you. Someone shouts your name, but it's muffled like you're underwater. You fail to register it fast enough. 
A scream, crystal-clear. 
You whip around, and there it is. The evidence of your failure. You're helpless to do anything— you can only watch— more screaming, more yelling, more pleads for help— 
There is so, so much blood— 
You're awake, and the blistering heat is gone. 
Gasping, you sit up, struggling for breath. It keeps catching in your throat. Your heart's pounding at a pace that makes your head spin. Dizzy, disorienting. But it used to be worse than this. 
At least you don't wake up sobbing anymore. 
This is still awful, though. Trembling, you wrap your arms around yourself, attempting to regain control. In, out. In, out. Your lungs shudder with the effort, but you keep going. Despite the comfortable warmth of the house, there's still goosebumps prickling up and down your bare skin. Your arms. Your neck. The sheets are tangled around your waist and legs; you almost feel trapped. 
There's no point in closing the curtains, since virtually nobody is in the streets, and the other inhabitants of the Village couldn't possibly look through your windows. When you glance out of the one nearest to your bed, it's almost pitch-black outside. There are no street lamps, after all. You try to focus on the cold, empty houses to distract yourself. 
Finally, your breath slows. Your pulse calms. 
You're still shaking, faintly, but your knees don't give out when you detangle yourself from your blankets and slip out of bed. You consider that a minor victory. 
Taking care not to make too much noise, you head downstairs. The polished stone is cold underneath your feet, but it's grounding, in a way. It settles you back down to earth. For a short while, you frequently lost your way due to the sheer size of the house, but now you know the quickest route to the kitchen by heart. Even when half-asleep, you know exactly where to go. 
The light flicks on with a quiet buzz when you gently press the switch. 
Quietly, you wonder if the ultimate prize for winning the Games was running water. It's cold, as it splashes over your fingers and into the basin. There are plenty of pristine, artisan glasses and whatnot in the overhead cabinets— probably made in District One— but you always reach for the mugs you had before. The ones with a couple of cracks and dents littering their bodies— evidence of their long lifespans. 
You lean against the counter as you take a long gulp of water. It's pleasant, the feeling pooling low in your chest. 
The silence used to be unnerving, but now, you welcome it with open arms. 
You take another, smaller sip from your mug. Maybe you'll be able to sleep for another few hours. Until the sun rises, at least. Then, you can take a walk. You can wander around all you like here, provided that you don't stray too far. Regardless, you're sure nobody will be too concerned about that. Haymitch is the sole man responsible for the lax rules concerning the victors. 
You're still not sure if you like him or not. 
Slowly, you finish your drink. But, just as you're ready to set it into the sink and head back upstairs—
—the phone's ringing. 
You can hear it pretty clearly, even if it's muffled. 
Who could be calling at this hour? Furrowing your brow, you put down the mug and start heading down the hallway, towards the study. You're well aware that Haymitch tore his phone out of the wall ages ago, so it couldn't be him. Nobody from your District calls you, either. And if you get any calls from outside the District, they're usually during the daytime. Not at two-ish in the morning. The Capitol may be invasive, but they're not that invasive. They need their beauty rest, you figure.  
So, taking all of that into consideration, that only leaves— 
"Peeta?" You mutter, upon picking up the phone. 
There's a beat of silence. 
"Hello," he replies. 
It's a bit hard to tell over the line, but he sounds nearly as groggy as you. Delicately, you shut the door of the study behind you with a quiet click. Just in case. 
"Is something wrong?" You allow yourself to be a little louder, now that there's a barrier between you and the rest of the house. "Couldn't sleep?" 
"Something like that." There's a slight rustling. "I mean— nothing new, right?" Even though you know he meant it as a joke, the grim truth makes it fall flat. 
Still, you breathe out a quiet laugh. "Nothing's changed." Affixing your gaze on one of the chairs sitting around the mahogany table, you fiddle with the telephone cord. "Did you, uh— did you need something, though?" 
Peeta hesitates again. 
"I just—" He cuts himself off. "I'm sorry for calling you so late." He's entirely earnest in a way that makes you ache. "Did I wake you up?" 
He's also dodging the question, even if he is genuinely worried about your sleep schedule. 
"No, you didn't," you assert, "don't worry about that. It's fine." 
"Okay," he responds, relief palpable despite the crackly quality. 
The telephone cord is somewhat cold where it rests on your knuckles. You continue to twist it around your idle hand. 
"You still haven't answered my question, by the way."  
Peeta audibly exhales. 
"Oh." More rustling. "Yeah. I, um—" he clears his throat, "—yeah, I do need something, actually." 
That could mean a lot of things. Does he just need to talk? You know he does, sometimes. Or maybe he just needs some more flour, and is too embarrassed to admit it. He does seem like the type of guy to stress-bake in the wee hours of the morning. However, you seriously doubt that he wants anything related to that. 
"What is it?" You ask, finally. 
His next words are rushed, as if he's afraid that if he says them slowly, he'll never get them out. 
"Could you come over? I just—" it's only a momentary gap, "—don't wanna be alone right now." 
Ah. 
The thing is, you understand. You know what it's like. And there's only one possible response that you can give right now. Vividly, you can see him— the cave—  his face, shining with a cold sweat, his eyes scrunched tightly in pain— 
"Okay." You're already mentally mapping out where to go. "I'll be there in a few." 
-- 
When he opens the door, Peeta looks exhausted. 
But when he smiles at you, there's still that light in his eyes. That look he gets whenever you're around. It used to make you feel sick to your stomach, but now— now, you're not quite sure how to feel. You've been told that in comparison to him, you're rather good at keeping your feelings hidden underneath the surface. It's been necessary, after all. 
"You're here," he says after a beat, as if he expected anything else. 
"I'm here," you echo. 
Wordlessly, he steps aside to let you pass by. Somehow, although the layout of his house is exactly the same as yours, his still feels different. Warmer. A little cozier. The remnants of something sweet are still floating through the air, and you glance back at him. Maybe you were right about the possibility of him making cookies— or apple turnovers. Or those little cakes. 
"Been baking?" You ask. 
"Earlier," he clarifies, shutting the door behind you. 
"Smells nice." 
Peeta lingers by your side. "Want some?" 
"If that's okay." 
"It's always been okay." He raises his eyebrows. "How many times have I told you that you don't even need to ask?" 
You shoot him a look. "Doesn't hurt to ask." 
Flawlessly, he copies your expression. "How do you know that?" 
"It's called being polite, Peeta." 
"Polite," he repeats. "Polite…" 
You let out a short sigh. 
"Just show me where they are." 
He gives you a shit-eating grin. "And there it is." 
You don't even bother trying to respond; he's already padding past you, anyway. It's a short trip to the kitchen. His is more cluttered than yours— recently-used, more lived-in. There are more dishes in the sink, more stuff on the counter. But your eyes are drawn to the two wire baking racks on the stovetop. On top of them sit around two dozen pastries. They're prettily decorated with pink, blue, and white icing, and you take some time to admire them as you join him in front of the stove. 
"You've outdone yourself," you can't help but murmur. "Wow." 
At your compliment, Peeta instantly turns bashful. 
"Oh, thanks." Of course, he can't let those words sit. "It's— it's not my best work, but I—" 
His volume drops, and he pauses. 
"Well— my hands were shaking, so…"
Abruptly, you turn your attention away from the pastries. 
He notices, interrupting you before you can even open your mouth to speak. 
"I know what you're gonna ask," he says, softly. "And, yeah, I do want to talk about it. Just—" Peeta sucks in a breath. "Just not now, okay? Give it a little while." The corner of his mouth quirks up, and he gestures towards the racks. 
"Eat." 
You consider pressing the question. You consider urging him— did it happen again? Was it worse this time? It had to have been worse, considering that he wanted you over in the first place. Just thinking about it makes your stomach perform an uneasy flip. You can read Peeta. And right now, you can read the bags under his eyes. The tiredness he's trying to fight away. 
However, you don't want to push him. You don't want to break him down. Not again. 
So, you take a pastry. 
It's really, very good. 
Peeta takes one for himself, too, and you eat in silence. You know that despite your frequent approval of his various baked goods, he's still carefully watching your reaction; you make sure to look pleased, and it isn't hard at all. He seems satisfied. You're also satisfied. Once you've finished your pastry, you lick the remnants of the icing off your fingers. 
You pretend not to notice the way he stares— briefly, before forcing his gaze away. 
You pretend to ignore the way your heart skips. 
Mercifully, he breaks the awkward tension. 
 "Do you— would you want to take some home?" He asks, after swallowing. "We both know that I'm not gonna eat 'em all." 
"Oh, yeah, I'll take some," you answer. Thinking for a second, you add, "Were you going to risk bringing some to Haymitch, or—" 
He snorts. "Not this time." 
"More for me, then." 
"And your family, you mean?" 
You smile. There's no way that you're going to give up those pastries without a fight. 
"Sure. And my family."
Peeta doesn't seem entirely convinced, but he returns your smile all the same. 
-- 
He always keeps his bedroom windows open at night. 
You're not exactly sure why, but you suppose it's because he runs warm. Always. 
The duvet's soft on your bare skin, and his hands are gentle. With the way your head is positioned, if you move your ear just so, you can hear his heartbeat thumping through his chest. A steady rhythm. He's calm, and so are you. You're certain that you could fall asleep like this— if it weren't for the fact that you have other, more important priorities right now. 
When you look up at him, shifting an increment closer, he talks. 
"I thought things were getting better." His Adam's apple bobs as you watch. "I thought that— that things were gonna start improving. That I'd— " He trails off, for a second. 
"That I'd start going back to normal, I guess. But I should've known that it's… It's impossible." His gaze is focused on the ceiling. "It was hopeless to try and believe that I could just keep on going like nothing happened at all." 
You find your voice. 
"But you still tried?" 
The chuckle he lets out is completely humorless. 
"Yeah, I tried." 
He's always been optimistic— he's always trying to see the best in people. And seeing him like this makes you feel hopeless. You know what he's going through. It's essentially the same thing that you're going through. However, it's not like you can read minds. He knows the right words to say, but you don't. Even though you wish you could. Words— even though actions can speak louder than them— still mean a lot. You turn that word over in your head a couple of times. Actions. 
"What happened?" You ask, quietly. 
 A beat. 
"I let down my guard," he starts, volume barely a whisper. "I was confident in my stability. I thought that I wouldn't— break down, or anything. Because it had been a few weeks, and—" 
His eyes shut. Tightly. "God, I'm stupid." 
"You're not," you rush to interject, "don't say that." 
Peeta lets out another huff. "But it was stupid. To assume that I'd be okay, I mean. I should've— I should've expected it, at least." He quickly carries on. "Even after everything, I still let myself fall into a routine." 
I still let myself fall back into a routine, you know what he means. The bad dreams pale in comparison to the real monsters that loom over the both of you. Haymitch is a living example of what can happen; what will happen, if you don't hold on to tight control of the hypothetical reins. You ache. 
"Don't blame yourself for any of this," you murmur, "please. It's not your fault. Not in the slightest." You have to speak slowly, pace yourself. Keep yourself from everything you want to say. "Even if you tried to— I don't know, stay hyper-aware of everything— it would still come crashing down eventually." A breath. "It's inevitable, Peeta. It's always going to be here." 
"But I don't want it to be here," he chokes out, "I really, really don't!" 
You push yourself up from your previous position. His eyes are open now, wide and looking up at you. 
When you move backward and open your arms, he's on you in an instant. 
You rock back and forth, gently. You're not sure which one of you is holding onto the other tighter. Clinging would be a better word. His face is pressed firmly into your shoulder. You can feel him shaking. 
Despite everything, he won't let himself make any noise when he cries. 
You don't know how long you stay like this. It could be minutes. Hours, even. All you can feel and register is him. Peeta. He's trembling. The barely-there sensation, combined with the undeniable tightness of his arms. His hands. It's almost like he thinks that if he loosens his hold, even by just the slightest fraction, you'll suddenly disappear. 
That you'll cease to exist. 
That you'll become not real.  
When you finally draw back— slowly, tentatively, and only because he does it first— 
He sniffs, eyes red. They're not brimming with unshed tears, but they're still wet. You can't help but thumb away what little remains on his lower lids, even though you know that you probably look about the same. 
Peeta returns the gesture. 
Unlike you, though, he lingers, hand dropping to cup your cheek. 
There's a moment. 
You've done this before, of course. You've held each other. Comforted each other, brought each other back down. But since the end of the Games— since you've gotten away from the clamoring audiences desperate for a romance despite the sick circumstances— you haven't done anything more than that. 
You haven't kissed him since the end of the Games. 
But right now, you realize that you want to. More than anything. Anyone could see that Peeta wants it, too. Maybe even more than you do. 
So, when he leans in— just barely— closing the distance— 
It's practiced, at first. Familiar. Almost nostalgic. 
But then he melts, and it's suddenly something completely different.  
Peeta lets you softly maneuver him down onto the mattress, up against the pillows that are still too soft for your liking. He kisses you in the way those terrible poets describe— it's all excessively large bouquets, a clear starry night, longing looks across a crowded room, and—  
It's real. 
He gives. You take, and exchange it for everything you have in return. His hand stays on your cheek, the other behind your head, pulling you down. He kisses you like he needs it to breathe. You lose yourself in the feeling. Whenever you part, it's only out of necessity, and you're soon leaning back in. You're making up for lost time— you're making up for every action you didn't mean, every word that was too sugary-sweet. 
Soon, your kisses grow deeper. And neither of you wants to stop. 
It's only when his hands are trailing down your body, down to the hem of your shirt, that you bother addressing it. Even if you want this— so, so desperately— you don't want to force anything in a situation that doesn't require it. Just kissing is nice. It's very nice. Nice enough that it takes a little while for you to regain control of your mouth. 
"Is this—" 
—and he's already speaking. Hushed, like you. 
"Please." 
It's almost embarrassing, what that single word does to you. But you barrel on. 
"It's okay?" You ask, "Just say if it's not, and I'll stop—" 
"—I just," Peeta visibly struggles with what to say for a moment, before settling on: 
"Need you," he says. "Please." 
It's more than enough, and you're in no place to deny him for much longer. You recapture his lips, welcoming his touch. His hands on your back, then your waist, then your hips again. His grip is firm, but not overly so. He would never hurt you, after all. Especially not here. Especially after what he's witnessed. 
His hands are warm and calloused on your bare skin. Strong, with all the work he's done since he was old enough to knead dough. You have to sit up in order to take off your nightshirt, and he takes the opportunity to do the same with his. You've already seen him shirtless, and at close proximity, too— but it wasn't like this. You couldn't trail over every little detail with your lips, back then. 
Peeta shivers, letting out a short giggle when you press a kiss to his stomach. He's sturdy, that's for sure. Impressive biceps, a toned chest. He's beautiful, and you tell him so. You think he blushes, but it's difficult to say for certain from your position. You're too focused on finding all the little freckles you can. 
He likes it when you kiss his neck, breath audibly hitching when you do so. 
But even though he lets you entertain yourself for a decent while, he makes sure to return the favor. He's never liked being in the spotlight for long, after all. And he wants. 
He finds all of your scars, from the arena. From before the arena, too. He maps them out, painstakingly, mimicking the way you'd kissed him all over earlier. Sensitive, he notes, when you make a small noise when his thumbs find your nipples. Soft, he observes, as his fingers slip underneath your waistband, moving lower. 
Soon, you're completely exposed, and he is too. 
Peeta pays more attention to certain parts of you— your thighs, your chest— but he doesn't skip over anything in particular. He wants to know everything; he wants to learn everything. And he's eager to learn. By the time he reaches the spot between your legs, you're already wanting for him. You've grown needy from his kisses, his caresses. You can feel him against your thigh— he's just as needy as you. 
His fingers are clumsy, at first. But they're strong, and you guide him. One, then two. Then another. His breath is loud, and he hums, biting his lower lip at your quiet moan after you tell him how to crook his fingers. You jolt when he finds your clit, paying careful attention to it while he works you open. 
At your whispered insistence, he grips himself by the base— already having put on protection— you don't care enough to ask exactly how he obtained it— and he pushes in. The groan he lets out sounds like it's been punched from his gut. 
He sets a slow, measured pace. Almost awkward at first, but he's a fast learner. He learns what angle makes you spread your legs wider for him. You wouldn't even use fucking to describe what you're doing— somehow, that word's too rough. He kisses you, nose bumping against yours. Most of your noises are muffled against his lips, but he takes them all the same. He absorbs them, and drinks them in. Drinks you in. 
"Peeta," you sigh, and he breathes your name in return, before ducking to kiss your shoulder. Your collarbone. Your neck. 
He comes first, twitching, pulsing deep within you. He stifles his whimper by tucking his face into the divot between your shoulder and your neck— but you can still feel it. You help him ride it out, until his thrusts falter, and his hips still. 
It's a few moments of limbo, in which he catches his breath. He meets your eyes. His are hazy, half-lidded. He kisses you. 
Then, he pulls out— disposes of the garbage, of course— and wastes no time in making his way down your body, to where you need him most. 
You're certain that he's never eaten anybody out before, but he's a natural. He's enthusiastic— much more so than when he was inside you. This is just for your pleasure, now. When you thread a hand through his tousled hair, he moans into you, increasing his efforts tenfold. He doesn't care for the mess— or the noise, as he laps at you. He doesn't even care for his own need to breathe. Peeta just wants to give. 
His brow is furrowed in concentration as he rapidly pulls you closer to orgasm. You can do little but take. And when you finally topple over your peak— 
"—that's so good, ah— Peeta, I'm gonna— ohh—" 
You cry out, heat rolling low in your abdomen— gathering, passing through your entire body. 
You float on blissful waves, and he licks at you through it all. For a single, brief moment, your mind is perfectly calm. 
When you relax, the warmth steadying to a hum, he notices and stops working at you. He wriggles a little, and leans forward to rest his chin on your stomach while you catch your breath. You can feel his, too, and it's hot on your skin. Peeta seems reluctant to take his eyes off you just yet. 
It's quiet, you register. You're reluctant to ruin it, but he looks pretty messy. 
"I should get you a towel or something," you say. 
He cracks a smile, his eyes softening. "Should you?" 
"Yeah." You're powerless not to return it. "But, you know, for me to get the towel, you have to get off me." 
"So demanding." 
You let out a short, offended sound. "Hey, that's just—" 
"I'm getting up." And he does. 
It doesn't take long to clean up, and the obnoxious white fluorescent lights of the bathroom don't blind you for long. Again, Peeta looks on while you wipe off his face— this close, you notice how brilliantly blue his eyes are. You notice the precise angles of his jaw. His cheek. He's probably doing the same to you— tracing the contours of your face. 
To your relief, you're back in his bed a few minutes later. He completely shuts off the lights, flicking off his bedside lamp, and then crawls under the duvet with you. You're not sure if it's creepy or weird to enjoy it, but everything here smells like him. A sort of earthy, warm scent. Even though you're both well aware of the multiple floral shampoos that the Capitol has to offer— he still retains that one thing. 
You're comfortable. You're safe. 
Peeta wraps his arms around you from behind. 
You're not sure if you should say something or not, but he does it first. 
"You'll stay?" Whispered, into the stillness. 
"Of course." Without hesitation. 
His grip tightens, almost imperceptibly. 
"Thank you," he breathes.  
The words are stuck in your throat. 
You can't bring yourself to say them, even though you know you'd mean them. Every single syllable. 
But you have time. You can tell him tomorrow, even. Or the day after that. Tonight, you didn't say it aloud, but you still told him all the same. 
You understand exactly how you feel, just before you drift off. 
You love him. 
2K notes · View notes
r1dd1kulus · 1 year
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Peeta “If it weren’t for the baby” Mellark
Peeta “are you here to finish me off Sweetheart?” Mellark
Peeta “She has no idea. The effect she can have.” Mellark
Peeta “I remember everything about you, you’re the one who wasn’t paying attention.” Mellark
Peeta “I’m okay once I realize you’re here” Mellark
Peeta “I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live in it forever” Mellark
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3K notes · View notes
lovekendri · 1 year
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inexperienced | peeta mellark
request: hey! can you do headcanons or a fic about your first time, um, “doing the deed” with peeta? or like how he would be with someone who’s inexperienced. thank you! i love your writing 🤍 - anon
omg i love this! thank you so much for the request AND being my first request!! i'm a bit newer to writing smut, so i hope it lives up to your expectations! ♡
peeta mellark x fem!reader
summary: it's your first time, and your boyfriend, peeta, is determined to make sure your first time is magical.
cw: 18+ only! fluffy smut, p in v, soft and hard dom!peeta, inexperienced!reader, established relationship, first time, fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!)
wc: 2.9k
type: ✽ | ❀
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As you poured another glass of a fancy sparkling pomegranate juice to end off the bottle, you tossed it into the bin next to the table and walked yourself over to the couch where Haymitch and Peeta sat, the room still buzzing with other District 12 residents.
The television was on, playing some sort of instrumental music, but you could barely hear it over the chatter in the room.
Haymitch and Peeta were deep in conversation about Haymitch's new relationship with Effie, and you've never seen Haymitch look so happy to talk about something.
You sat down next to Peeta, and you could tell he was ready to leave soon, probably after he finished the conversation.
You had indulged in homemade bread from Peeta with oil and vinegar all night, as well as fresh berries picked from the bushes in front of your house with the sparkling juice, and you were starting to get tired of eating to cure the boredom.
You had followed Peeta around all night like a lost puppy, and it wasn't a good look for you, but you were ready to go home after a few conversations.
"I personally didn't expect Effie to be your first choice," Peeta snorted, "I thought she drove you crazy."
Instead of paying attention to the rest of the conversation like you should've, you began to fully admire your boyfriend for the first time all night.
He wore a gray button up with the top two buttons undone, the sleeves tucked up around his forearms. It was tucked into a pair of blue jeans that appeared slightly too tight, the fabric straining against his legs. Finishing off the outfit with a brown belt. He sat manspreading, holding a bottle of something you couldn't see, the logo hidden in his hands, but you knew it wasn't alcohol.
Looking at him tonight brought a different feeling to your chest and stomach, an odd, tingly feeling you hadn't very much felt before around him. Watching him talk, watching his lips move as he responded to Haymitch, the nod of approvals he would give.
"But anyways, you two better get going," Haymitch said as you tuned in to the conversation once again, standing up from the old couch you all sat on. It was getting later in the night, and you were thankful for him to say that, as it was almost one in the morning.
Peeta stood up as well, taking your hand to help you up from sinking into the couch.
"Alright, good to see you," Haymitch said, giving Peeta a small hug, and clapping him on the back, like a brother would do.
Haymitch turned to you, and reached out for a hug. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a short hug before pulling away from him.
"I'll see you tomorrow, probably," you said, smiling, subtly reminding Haymitch of your lunch plans tomorrow.
"Of course you will, sweetheart," he gave you a small clap on the back, weaker than Peeta's, but still a loving tap. A small lopsided smile appeared on his face and he turned away.
"You ready to go?" Peeta asked, looking down at you.
His eyes were trained on you, reminding you of what you felt just seconds ago about the tingling of your stomach and the tightness in your chest.
"Yeah," you smiled, trying to hide the fact you could feel the blush creeping up your face as you looked past him toward the coat rack near the door.
He grabbed your hand once again, grabbing your coat and slinging it over your shoulders, not bothering to have you put it on when you're a mere twenty feet away from his house.
You waved goodbye to any people who were paying attention at the slowly dying party, and walked out the door, hand in hand with Peeta.
"You enjoy the juice?" he asked as you reached the sidewalk, playfully giving you a little shove to the shoulder to knock you off balance a bit.
"You know I did," you replied, recovering your feet and taking his muscular arm in both of your hands. The crisp, cool air of the night nipped at your cheeks, and the leftover snow from the recent fall crunched beneath your feet.
It was a short walk, and by now you were at the door of Peeta's house. He took the keys out of his pocket to unlock his front door. The light over the door was still on, coating the walkway you stood on in a dim, yellow light.
"You looked beautiful tonight," he said as he unlocked the door, pushing in the door with more force than intended.
"Thank you, you looked rather handsome yourself," you replied, hearing a small chuckle escape his throat at your comment.
Without bothering to turn on the lights, he walked through the living room to reach his bedroom, and you ran inside before him to kick off your shoes and jump on his bed.
The softness of the mattress engulfed your body, and you rolled into the knitted quilt on top of his bed.
Tonight felt like a cuddling night, but something about the air felt different.
"Save some room for me," he said, having just taken off his shoes.
The feeling you had earlier watching him rose in your body again as he set his knee on the edge of the bed, climbing over to your side and collapsing next to you with a hand on your hip.
You turned to your side, throwing a side of the quilt on top of him.
"There's plenty of room for you," you said, looking down past his jaw. You saw the same outfit as before, but now his belt was slightly looser, his shirt half untucked. You tried your best to avoid looking toward his jeans, but you didn't have to force yourself anyways.
"Eyes are up here, darling," Peeta's hand reached out gently to your jaw, lifting your face to look at him.
Your face heating up immediately, you made eye contact with him. A small grin was growing on his face, a cheeky smirk you'd seen so often. He kissed you with the same pecks he always did when you were cuddling, but even after you'd kissed him hundreds of times the same way, you couldn't shake the feeling that something felt different tonight.
Doing your best to ignore the prying thought, you snuggled up to his warm body, basically steam rolling him to get on top of him. You laid on top of him, one of his hands loosely around your waist and the other lightly stroking your back. Your arms hooked under his.
After a while of laying in silence listening to each other breathe, you started to close your eyes, letting comfort and sleep take you over. Just as you began to feel the entire pull of sleep, you felt him sharply exhale. He dug his face into the crook of your neck at the same time his hand grabbed tightly onto your hip.
"You've never had sex, have you?" he murmured lowly.
The question startled you, increasing your heartbeat and waking you from any slumber that started to take you over. You turned your face into his neck as well, too embarrassed to lift your head and face him when you felt the heat radiating off your cheeks.
Is this what felt different? Did the air feel different because Peeta wanted to have sex with you?
"Absolutely," you say, the uneasiness in your voice a dead giveaway that you most definitely have not.
He knew you, he knew you hadn't. In fact, he knew that he was the only boy you had ever dated, the only boy who you'd ever kissed.
"Oh, really?" he says, his hands sliding from where they rested to lightly graze over the back of your thighs and your ass, one hand giving a light squeeze to your thigh.
A barely audible but obviously desperate exhale escaped your lips, your head dropping down completely to his shoulder.
He had never touched you like this before. Butterflies were exploding in your stomach, your chest and throat growing tighter as he continued to move his hand over the hills of your body.
"I thought so, baby," he whispered. "It's okay."
He didn't stop moving his hand, but his head dropped back down to the bed, an exhale leaving his own lips.
"Would you let me be your first time?" he said breathily, his hand moving up to rub over your back once again.
You felt like you couldn't say anything, your throat feeling so closed with his hands touching you in ways you'd never felt before, the feeling of his rough hands stroking across your body was enough to send you spiraling.
He noticed your silence, moving his hands to sit up. You refused to let go of your tight hold on his body, trying to catch your breath from the unnecessarily overwhelming feeling blossoming in your stomach.
"C'mon, baby. Talk to me," he whispered.
"Please, Peeta," your voice came out strangled. It didn't sound like your own, plagued by the tightness of your throat and the desperate want for him to touch you like he was before.
It took him a moment to register what you said.
"That's my girl."
His hands reached up to your arms, gently prying them away from his body in order to get you off of him.
He laid you gently on the bed, and you felt like a total mess. You knew you shouldn't be so obsessed with the way he was making you feel, but it felt so right to be touched by him, to be held in the erotic ways you didn't know he wanted.
He was on top of you, his arms out straight and his legs on the outside of yours blocked a cage around your body. You were in for it now.
At first though, he only kissed you.
The low light of the room added to the needy ambiance of the room. Kissing felt more erotic, less controlled, the way his lips moved familiarly but yet so foreign at the same time, the soft dominancy from him that you'd never felt before threatening to take you over. The way he would stop to take a short breath before continuing to kiss you, sometimes biting your lip as he pulled away. When you felt one of his hands creep up your hips onto your breasts, it was an explosion of feelings you hadn't had before.
Your gasp almost breaking the kiss, you felt him grin against your lips as his hand slipped under your shirt to run it over your torso.
His touch was so gentle, so polite, allowing you to feel the entire moment of what he was doing to you. Again though, it was so different from ways he had touched you before. So new and arousing.
His kisses began to trail down your cheek to your jaw, down your neck, and back up to your lips. He kissed you all over the neck, anywhere he could.
You felt so many butterflies and tingles in your stomach, and a warm heat between your thighs growing as he touched you more, lips and hands working in unison to sweetly prepare you.
His hand now moving down to pull the waistband of your pants ever so slightly down, pausing his kisses. He took the moment to move a knee between your legs, giving them a little nudge to open.
His eyes met yours, darkened with arousal and excitement. His lips were swollen and slick with saliva, his cheeks a light rosy tint.
"You ready?" he murmured, watching your face closely.
Though you were so nervous, you were eager.
You wanted this to happen, the more he touched you and the more he caressed your body allowed to the heat between your legs to grow, the unfamiliar tingles and butterflies in your stomach fluttered with anticipation. He was all you ever dreamt of, and the way his eyes bored into yours with lust and hungriness, you were as ready as you'd ever be.
"Yes," you forced out, the constriction of your throat still very prominent.
You watched as the grin on his face grew to a sinister smile, his eyes squinting with pride. He removed your pants with such swiftness you'd barely noticed, and he took the time to admire your bottomless body. Nothing he hadn't seen before, but something he got to see in a totally different manner.
He exhaled sharply, pushing a rough hand into your panties, a finger sliding through slick folds.
He wasn't near being inside you, but the first few circles around your clit felt like heaven, your mouth opening in shock and a strangled gasp forcing its way through. A white heat began to grow in your stomach quickly, and you pushed your head into the softness of the bed.
"Attagirl," he whispered, praise quickly falling out of his mouth as he watched you squirm underneath his fingers.
A slick finger suddenly pushed through you, sending more waves of pleasure to your core. His fingers worked magic on your clit while he pushed his finger in and out of you.
"Yeah, baby?"
Heat, heat, and more heat grew, the pleasure becoming almost overwhelming under your boyfriend's control, the praises coming out of his stupidly pretty face driving your body insane.
Gasps sweetened with whimpers and small moans fell out of your mouth like a sailor's cusses, your eyes screwed shut as Peeta worked your body perfectly. In no time, he pushed in a second finger, earning a loud gasp and a grab to his forearm, his legs tightening around your leg to keep you from wiggling away.
"You feelin' good, love?" he whispered. You could hear the curl of his evil smile, absolutely delighted to be making you feel the way you were. You desperately nodded your head, your grip on his arm growing tighter as the heat in your stomach grew, an overwhelming feeling threatening to fall.
He felt your walls beginning to tighten, and pulled his fingers out.
"Why?" you whined, the feeling in your stomach immediately dripping down to the small heat you had before. You grabbed for his hand, wanting him to make you feel amazing again, but he pulled it away from you.
"No, sweetheart, I want you to experience more than just my hand."
You watched as he undid the rest of his belt from before, your jaw falling open slightly in shock as he unbuttoned his jeans, undoing the zipper as well. His black boxers showed through the small opening in his pants now, and you could see what he was hiding beneath them.
"You okay?" he asked, aware of your jaw now basically on the floor. You nodded at his question, snapping your jaw shut once again.
Your face was hot, your body was shaking a little. You were so ready in anticipation of how he was going to make you feel. You didn't dare look at him, because you knew that you were basically going to finish at just the sight.
"You're sure you're ready?" he said, a hand holding steady on your hip and the other you could only assume holding his cock.
You nodded, your hands going to the quilt for a hold on something, your body beginning to tense.
"Good girl."
You felt him push into you.
A loud gasp pushed from your throat, your body jerking in surprise. He definitely filled you out, your eyes rolling back and heat beginning to grow again.
"What's wrong?" he said, the concerned tone in his voice loud, keeping still inside you.
"No, no, keep going," you whined, your eyes screwing shut.
He began to move slowly, only pushing in a few inches every time, preparing you for the full.
The friction felt so good, quiet moans falling out of your mouth as he pushed more and more inside of you, growing faster with each movement of his hips.
He pushed all the way into you, hitting a spot that sent white heat coursing through your body, electrifying, your vision blanked.
He dragged his cock out once again, pushing all the way inside of you once more.
The tingly heat grew quickly in your stomach as he found a medium pace, cock sliding easily in and out of your cunt with his hands gripping tightly on your hips.
"You look so pretty underneath me," he praised, so close to pushing you over the edge.
Uncontrolled moans forced themselves out of your throat, the heat building up so close to a release. His hips became sloppier and uncontrolled, his pace increasing as he worked to finish.
With one harsh thrust, your vision went white and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. A loud cry left your mouth as you came, your legs tightening around his hips.
He finished quickly after you, his thrusts extremely sloppy.
Pulling out of you, he collapsed next to you and pulled you into his arms, his body warm. You were both breathing heavily, his muscular arms engulfing you in a blanket of comfort,
"I love you so much," he murmured, tucking his head down, his forehead rested on top of your head.
"I love you," you whispered, "thank you."
He didn't say anything, kissing the top of your head and tightening his arms around your body.
"Thank you, pretty girl."
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main masterlist | my profile | thg masterlist | request | proof read: ✓
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flowwsblog · 4 months
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Let them watch
Peeta Mellark x f!reader
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warnings; fluff, smut, mndi, semi-public sex, grinding
You and Peeta had teamed up during the quarter Quell. you both cared for each other, having known each other since you were little kids.
You guys had figured out the times that each event had happened, the lighting strike, the tsunami, and more. You guys had just arrived to the beach, having just escaped the Jabberjays.
you both sat on the beach, relief washing over you. You guys had a little time until the others would catch up with you and the next event would happen.
You sat back, sighing. "You're tired already?" Peeta teasingly asked, removing his gear and backpack, setting them next to you both.
"A little, we just ran like 10 miles Peeta." you huffed, a laugh escaping you. You sat back up, looking over at the boy next to you. He was smiling at you.
You gave him a suspicious look, smiling nonetheless. "what's up?"
"How can you manage to look this pretty, after running 10 miles." he muttered. your cheeks warmed, you looked down and sighed;
"Shut up, I'm all sweaty." You replied, fidgeting with your fingers.
"No I'm serious!" he laughed, nudging your side as you laughed along with him.
"right." you remarked, throwing some of the water at him.
"Oh that's how it is?" he teased once again, leaning over to grab a handful of water snd tossing it at you. It went on like this for a little while until you were both panting. Laying alongside each other.
"I hate you." you looked over at him, smiling. He moved his head slightly to meet your gaze,
"I love you too." he hummed. You smiled, face warming up again. When can this man not make you blush?
"your hair looks nice wet." you add, your hand moving up to touch some strands of his wet hair, moving them a little ways from his face.
He sucked in a breath, stilling at your touch. you giggled in response.
"Not so confident now, pretty boy,." You teased, laughing. He moved your hand out of his face and turned away smiling, his face red.
"Okay, im sorry.": you say, still laughing. You grab his shoulder and move him onto his back again. There was a pause before you leaned down to peck his on the cheek, you lips lingering on his damp skin.
Peeta inhales deeply, as your lips glide towards his slowly.
He smirks lightly ; "alright, I forgive you.."
Peeta's hand suddenly comes up behind your head and closes the distance between your lips.
You sigh into him, lips intertwining perfectly. Your hands come up to rest against his chest as your lips move in sync. you bite his lower lip causing him to gasp, giving your tongue an entrance into his mouth. Your tongues fight for dominance as one of your hands come up around his neck. He whines, the sound making heat pool into your lower stomach.
You move your body onto his, your knees situating themselves in-between his legs. You move your knee higher and he gasps, his head falling back onto the warm sand.
Your lips lower, leaving wet kisses on his sharp jaw. your teeth nip at his skin, sure to leave a mark for later. His airy moans encourage you to go farther, your hips ground onto his. Peeta lets out a groan, his hands coming up to grip your hips.
"Is.. is this okay?" you breath, your head lifting slightly to see his face. He looked so good, his eyebrows curled slightly upwards, his eyes closed, and his lower lip caught in between his teeth; plump and pink from the kissing.
"Y-yes., please."
That's all it took, you nodded in response; as if he can see you, and lean down to interlock your lips once more.
Your hips circle on his, your body seeking friction. All that could be heard were your moans and gasps.
His strong hands grip your hips, moving your hips to rub the outline of his cock. A throaty moan escaping his mouth, flowing int yours.
'Pl.. please... I'm almost-" he was cut off by your humming, little mm's flow out go your mouth in pleasure. Your hips moving faster against his.
"me too.. I-" His hips buck up into yours, your head falls into the crook of his neck, panting and kisses mix as you once again attack his neck.
"y/n.. I'm.. I'm gonna come." his breathing increases as he lifts your head to look at him.
"look at me, l-.. please." Your eyes, lids half open, study his face, his mouth agape; ragged breaths and curses falling from it. You moan, head tilting back as you reach your climax.
"I'm- ..I'm coming" you whisper into his ear, your head falling back down as your hips buck one last time. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you let out a hearty moan.
Peeta groans in response, his climax coming right after yours. You both lay there, on the beach, pants soaked with your release.
There was a sudden noise, a snap of a twig hidden within the trees. Your head shot up, quickly searching for any enemy to pop out.
"What's going on?" Peeta murmurs, his eyes falling open slightly.
"I think. I think someone was watching us." You breathe, a laugh escaping your mouth.
"What?!" Peeta sits up quickly, but you put your hand on his chest in assurance, his weight being held by his elbows.
"it's alright.. let them watch."
_______________________
a/n; Okay you guys voted on Peeta Mellark and here you are! this is my first time writing smut rather than reading them, but let me know how I did and I will surely be making more!! Thank you for readinggg <33
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venuslore · 28 days
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imagine having the worst possible nights sleep. unable to get comfy. or fall asleep for ages. your mind racing with a million thoughts about things you should’ve said in those moments. then just being able to roll over into his arms and let him cradle you until you do eventually start to feel tired. your eyes fall heavy to the sound of his breathing mixed with his soothing little hums as he runs his fingers softly in circulation motions across your back. his torso pressed flush against your own as your legs tangle beneath the sheets. he has you totally encapsulated by him. both literally and metaphorically. he leaves the most gentle kisses on your forehead, not wanting himself to fall asleep until he’s made sure you have first. even as his own eyes begin to fail him, and he lets out his own little yawns. he’s determined to get you to sleep first. your head nestled against his chest as his head rests on yours, and he knows once your breathing slows into a steady rhythm he too can finally go to sleep ᰔ
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ilguna · 1 year
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☼ one true love (Peeta Mellark) ☼
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summary; to everyone else, you're nothing but a rebound to Peeta. to Peeta, you are his one true love.
warnings; swearing, death mention.
wc; 3k
notes; no katniss slander, but there is gale slander ;)
The nerves are eating you from the inside out. One minute you think you’re going to be sick all over the concrete floor, so you’re in the bathroom hanging your head over the toilet. The next minute, you’re back on your feet, pacing back and forth in front of the door. You can’t sit still anymore, it’s not an option.
What are you supposed to say to him? It’s only a matter of time before he lands in District Thirteen with the other captured victors. Will he even want to see you? Is Katniss going to be the first person he asks for? You saw him on the television a few days ago, he was talking about her, worried about her wellbeing.
The last time you saw each other was before the Quarter Quell reaping. It was brief, because he needed to go on stage, and you were late traveling from your neighborhood to get to the Justice Building. All he did was kiss you, and then he was gone.
You think he was expecting to say goodbye, like the Peacekeepers usually allow, but when you tried to go inside, they told you that the rules changed. And before you could think to start running to the train station, they told you that there was no farewell there, either. That was it.
You couldn’t breathe, you were sure that would be the last time you’d ever see him, and it was cut short because you couldn’t leave the house a couple minutes earlier. But you were so, so mad at him for the months leading up to the reaping. It was a nightmare being with him.
His time was consumed with training, he was constantly talking about volunteering over Haymitch if the opportunity presented itself. He wouldn’t listen to a single thing you said. You hardly spent time with him, and when you did, you would’ve been happier by yourself. He became a new person, one you didn’t recognize, one that didn’t seem to like the idea of you half the time.
You almost didn’t want to go to the reaping. You knew what was to come, what was the point of showing up, besides to avoid getting in trouble with the Peacekeepers? And then all he could do was kiss you, because he was so pressed for time. He didn’t say anything to you. 
Suddenly, you turned the anger onto yourself, because you couldn’t believe you were so stupid to miss such a vital moment with him. 
You tried to make up for it. Even though the week leading up to the Quell was chaotic in District Twelve, as much as you were afraid to leave your house to see the mandatory viewings, you still did. You saw him everyday in the Square, and each time you got your heart broken because it was like it was never an act between him and Katniss.
You thought it was bad enough the first time around, because he didn’t know your feelings yet, and he was putting on this real show for the Capitol, but it’s so much worse, knowing that he feels the same way for you.
When you and Peeta had started talking again after he won the Hunger Games, your parents warned you that it would end up being a mistake. They knew how you felt about him before he was reaped, and how it wouldn’t change before he came back—if he came back. Even if he was kissing Katniss Everdeen in front of Panem. 
They were right about your feelings, of course. You and Peeta were close friends for years. You had classes together in school, and you’d hang out in the bakery every day after school. You’d sit there for hours, doing your homework, while also watching him pipe designs onto cakes and cookies for those who could afford to buy it.
You didn’t think he noticed the way you’d watch him throughout the day. The way his eyes would light up when talking about something he liked. Or maybe a new technique he discovered when making designs on cakes. How carefree he looked when doodling on his papers. The amount of times there would be a mini portrait of you in the corner of them.
While your whole day was centered around him, he had other things on his mind, like Katniss. Well, that’s how you felt when he announced his love for her in the interview. And then he came back with her, breaking the rules of the Hunger Games, completely enamoured with her. When you hadn’t gone to visit him in a whole two weeks after, he showed up at your door to see you, to make sure that you were okay. You tried to shrug him off, but he didn’t take that as an answer.
You thought that if you held him at arms-length, that it would be a distance between you two. If you’re not close, then there would be no point in keeping you around. After all, he does have other friends—other people he can surround himself with.
Fortunately for you, it didn’t work. You honestly should’ve known that it wouldn’t, because out of all the friends you’ve had since growing up, Peeta has by far been the most loyal out of them. He’s still here, and he’s seen you go through the motions. That’s why he figured out that he hurt you in some way while he was gone. 
He refused to leave you alone, he later told you that you were one of his last friendships he had since he won. Everyone else wasn’t seeing him the same way you did. While you saw him as human, and virtually the same person you had before he left, others saw him as the victim.
You remember being so flustered admitting your feelings to him. The hot feeling in your face, the tears that threatened to take over your eyes. The way your throat clogged, and the words croaked out. You didn’t even want to look him in the eyes, afraid to see his reaction, but it’s like you couldn’t look away. You needed to see the raw reaction in case he lied to you.
Peeta smiled.
It took a lot of explaining from him to get you to see how he was thinking after he was reaped. He needed help from sponsors, which meant that he had to play the Capitol in some way. And while what he said to Caesar in the interview wasn’t completely false, it wasn’t true either. He wasn’t settled on Katniss, because he knew if he won, he had someone better at home; you.
He wasn’t anticipating coming back with her. If he’d known, he would’ve played it differently. Katniss was completely indifferent to him, and he realized that after she looked for him once the announcement was made. As for you, he knew that if you were there with him, you wouldn’t have left his side, not even for a second.
He was happy you felt the same way he did, but he warned you that if you two started seeing each other more seriously, and possibly started dating, a lot of people would be unhappy. And at the end of the day, you could be one of those people. He wanted a relationship as much as you did, but the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you in the process.
Since that day, he tried to do everything he could to keep you, while also keeping the peace with the Capitol, even if they didn’t know what was happening between the two of you. There was a lecture from Haymitch—a man that you thought you’d never have to meet in your life—telling you that you’d have to be extremely careful to keep it from the Peacekeepers.
The Victory Tour was rough, considering he did a complete one-eighty with Katniss for the cameras. It got worse when you watched him propose to her in the Capitol. He didn’t tell you that this was planned, and he promised to keep you up to date if he could. You were nauseated for the rest of the week, really afraid that you’d done it to yourself.
You were the first person he came to see when he got back from the tour. From the moment you opened the door, it was a string of apologies, and a tight hug, reassuring you that it's not what he wanted. Him and Katniss were in trouble, and they were trying to do damage control. 
You watched all the mandatory viewings of Katniss trying on her dresses, the ones the Capitol liked the most, over the others. That was fine, it was easier to stomach, knowing that Katniss felt like she was playing dress-up for them. What wasn’t okay, was what happened next.
You were sitting with Peeta on the couch the night the Quarter Quell was announced. You two thought it was just another dress preview, and the rest of the night, you two were supposed to hang out. Then Snow said all the existing victors would be going back into the pool.
You remember seeing the color drain from his face, and panic seized his body. You opened your mouth to speak, but he was already excusing himself. He needed to talk to Haymitch, and it was a fairly long walk from your house to Victor’s Village. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips, and then he was gone. And you were left sitting in your living room, watching the Capitol react to the same news you’d just heard, wondering if they knew the effect this would cause.
It’s been a downward spiral since that day. You watched him go through that first week in the Capitol again, and it ended with him announcing Katniss’ fake pregnancy. You were inconsolable, watching him survive the cornucopia, just to almost die a few hours later because of a forcefield.
It was hard to swallow, but it was nothing compared to the fact that District Twelve was bombed on the third day. You don’t know how Gale knew where you lived, or why he chose you to save. 
You knew of Gale in high school, but didn’t think anything of him. He was just another surviving teenager, trying to get through with his head down and make it out of the reaping alive. You learned more about him when he was presented as Katniss’ cousin to Panem to keep him from being seen as a threat against Peeta. As for you, Peeta was able to claim that you were nothing but a loyal friend.
You and Gale only met in passing.
Even though Gale knew what you actually meant to Peeta, he still left his family out of the hundreds that were saved. They were just across the street from Katniss’ family, and he still let them get killed. While he traveled across the district to tell you that a hovercraft was coming because the district was going to be bombed by the Capitol.
You’re grateful you’re alive, and so is your family, but you will never forgive him for doing something so cruel. 
You feel the nausea rising in your stomach again, as you wipe your hands down your grey uniform to rid them of the collecting sweat. You’re sweeping your hair into one hand, really sure that you’re going to throw up this time, when the door to your dormitory opens.
You stop in your steps, turning to see who it is. You asked your parents to stay out for a little bit, because you really needed some time to think to yourself. You were almost put in the same room as Katniss and Finnick, so that you’d be able to receive the news of their arrival at the same time as them. Haymitch didn’t think it was appropriate, that’s why you were casted out, but said you’d be updated as soon as they landed.
Despite the fact that you and Peeta are very much dating, and he’s made it explicitly clear that he and Katniss are nothing but an act, you are seen as less than she is. In fact, the word they like to put on you is ‘rebound’. You’re Peeta’s rebound, because he couldn’t get Katniss.
You’ve tried to be patient with District Thirteen’s command, but they’re running it thin.
Haymitch Abernathy stands in your doorway, a grave look on his face. You don’t think he approves of you and Peeta, even though he tried his best to convince you two that he didn’t care what happened, as long as President Snow didn’t find out. 
“Peeta’s here.” He says.
“Oh, finally.” You breathe, letting go of your hair as you start toward the door, “Is he in the hospital?”
“(Y/n), stop.” Haymitch blocks the path. “Peeta’s not in the right state of mind. It’s going to be upsetting to see.”
“That’s fine.” You brush him off, “Can we go?”
“You don’t understand.” He sighs, “He tried to kill Katniss.”
You stare at him for a few seconds, while your brain tries to push through this information. He was just concerned about her not too long ago, and now he’s trying to kill her? 
You shake your head, “I want to see him, Haymitch.” 
He doesn’t like your persistence, but he leads the way to the hospital, anyway. The two of you move through the hallway, into the elevator, out, and through another series of hallways. You can hear the commotion from down the hallway, the shouting coming from the other side of the hospital doors.
Once you walk through them, you’re met with chaos. You stop for a second at the doors, wondering if it’s like this all the time in here, but when you realize that Haymitch is still moving, you get right back to following. You catch sight of Finnick with a girl, and presumably another victor strapped down with a shaved head, rolling her eyes at the nurse.
The further back you go, the calmer it gets. You can feel the anxiety building in your stomach the moment you step foot into a tense room that holds a few vaguely familiar faces. You know Plutarch Heavensbee, he was a former Gamemaker. You’ve talked to him a few times. And then there’s Beetee Latier, one of the victors that was inside of the arena. And among them are a few other people that you don’t recognize.
No one pays attention to you, the conversation lands on Haymitch as soon as they see him. You stand there for a few minutes, nerves settling slowly while the anger begins to rise.
You take a deep breath to calm yourself. “I want to see him.”
There are a few stunned faces as eyes land on you. As if you somehow just materialized out of the air, and they didn’t see you when you walked into the room behind Haymitch.
“That might not be a good idea.” A man says, looking over you. 
“You think that matters to me?” Your body’s trembling. He’s got to be on the other side of the door, the one that they’re blocking. You’re so close to him.
“Who are you?” He asks.
“If you all stopped smothering me, then you’d know that I’m his girlfriend.” You snap, “Not Katniss, me.”
Plutarch tilts his head, “Boggs has nothing to do with your current predicament, (Y/n). I’m going to give you access to see him, but you’ll return immediately if you see him getting violent, do you understand?”
You ignore his comment, deciding to keep the peace. “Yes.”
Several people move at once. While Beetee wheels himself across the room to press a button on the wall, which makes the wall to your left turn into a window, allowing you to see a preview of Peeta’s state. Boggs walks over to the door that you were looking at, pushing a key into the lock and turning it.
You don’t move from where you stand, lips parted as you let out a gasp at the sight of Peeta, strapped to a bed to keep from hurting himself and others. He’s lost all the muscle that took months for him to build up before going into the arena. He’s covered in black and blue bruises, there’s cuts across his skin.
You can feel the tears build in your eyes.
Peeta’s head lolls to the side at the sound of the key in the lock. He can’t even keep his eyes open.
“We gave him a sedative after he went after Katniss.” Haymitch explains, “He’s coming off of it.”
You start moving to the door. Boggs tries to stop you, maybe to give you some bullshit rules to follow while you’re inside, but you’ve already shoved him aside and forced yourself through the door before he can even say your name. 
Peeta’s eyes widen at the noise you cause coming through the door, jerking aggressively to see exactly who it is that’s entering the room. It takes him a second of looking you over, up and down, to realize it’s you. He relaxes into the bed, no longer pulling against the restraints, face smoothing over.
“(Y/n)...” He trails.
You can feel your teeth chattering, tears overflowing your eyes, “Peeta.”
“You’re here.” He breathes, “You’re okay?”
“I’m okay.” You sob, trying to wipe the tears away. You grab his hand, squeezing tightly, feeling another round of tears hit you when he holds on, refusing to let go. 
You lean over the railing, your other hand outstretched to touch his face, where the bruises lie on his sunken cheeks. The back of your fingers brush against his skin. He takes in a breath, eyes fluttering shut while he leans into your touch.
He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, until he slowly opens his eyes, “I missed you.”
“I’m never leaving you again.” You tell him, “I promise.”
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pixiexdusts-world · 9 months
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Incorrect quote
Y/n: How are we supposed to put a tracker the size of a penny on Peeta without him noticing?
Finnick: Hey, Peeta, I bet you 5 bucks that you can’t swallow this penny.
Peeta: *takes and swallows tracker* pay up, loser.
Y/n:…
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waitimcomingtoo · 5 months
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Line Without A Hook
Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader
Synopsis: Peeta freaks out when you get hurt in the arena and gets teased for how much he takes care of you (catching fire arena)
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Peeta had barely gotten out the words “stay by me” when the cornucopia on the island starting to spin. Tributes flew off and fell into the water as others struggled to grip on to whatever they could.
“It moves?” Finnick shouted to no one in particular as he gripped the first arm he could see through the salt water spray. The arm belonged to Peeta, who looked to his side and panicked when he realized you were no longer there.
“Where did Y/n go?” Peeta shouted over the sound of the waves.
“I think she went over by the weapons.” Finnick shouted back as the dial began to rotate faster. Peeta looked into the center and saw Johanna and Mags struggling to stay aboard but no sign of you.
“Well she’s not there anymore.” Peeta shouted back as his anxiety grew.
“I’m kinda busy here, Peeta. I don’t know where your girlfriend went.” Finnick replied.
“There!” Wiress called and pointed towards one of the arms. Peeta followed her finger and saw you fighting with one of the careers on the edge of a spinning arm. You were winning the fight until another career threw an axe your way and got you right in the rib cage. Peeta just about lost his mind when he saw you go limp and fall into the water. He let go of the center and grabbed the first weapon he could see before sprinting toward where you had been.
“DON’T TOUCH HER.” He shouted as he threw his weapon at the career you had been fighting. It buried in his chest and sent him flying into the water. Peeta then dove into the water and forced his eyes open in an effort to find you. He followed the wavering trail of blood until he found your body floating in the water. By the time he pulled you to the surface, the dial had stopped spinning. Finnick helped him pull you out of the water and tried to give you CPR but Peeta pushed him out of the way. He did chest compressions and mouth to mouth as tears fell from his eyes and onto your face. Finally, your eyes opened and you coughed up some water. Peeta gently rolled you on your side so that you could get it all out and held your hand when you were done.
“Y/n? Are you okay, sweetheart?” Peeta asked as he held your hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.
“Peeta?” You coughed out.
“I’m here. Are you okay?” He asked again and brushed your wet hair off your face.
“I’m okay. It’s just a knick.” You said and winced from the pain of the wound in your side.
“I watched it happen. It was a lot more than a knick. And you’re still bleeding.”
“It’s fine. I just do that sometimes.” You tried to wave it off but Peeta was not budging.
“Come here. We gotta get you off this thing.” Peeta looked at the cornucopia angrily before carefully lifting you off the ground. He and Finnick brought you back to the beach and helped you lay down on the sand.
“Really. I’m okay.” You tried to assure Peeta once you were on the ground again.
“Let me see how bad it is.” He said and tried to rip your suit around the wound.
“Peeta, I’m fine.” You insisted and pushed his hand away.
“You’re not fine. Just let me see.” He pleaded. You knew he wasn’t gonna let it go so you sighed and unzipped the back of your suit. You’re gingerly rolled it down to your waist, leaving you in the black bikini top you had underneath. It was the least amount of clothing Peeta had ever seen you in so he blushed and adverted his eyes at first.
“How bad is it?” You asked him, making him snap back to the moment. He looked at the wound on your side and relaxed a little when he found it wasn’t nearly as bad as he thought.
“It looks worse than it really is. We just need to get it clean.”
“We?” You raised an eyebrow.
“You took care of me once. And I’m not gonna let you die from infection after everything you’ve survived.”
“But-“
“Just shut up and let me take care of you?” Peeta whined.
“Okay.” You smiled softly. “Fine.”
Peeta returned the smile before carefully picking you up. He walked into the water with you in his arms and went deep enough that the salt water could clean your wound. You winced and arched your back to stay out of the water.
“Sorry. I know it hurts.” Peeta apologized and bent his knees to put you back in the water.
“It really hurts. I want to get out.” You told him and flinched when a wave stung your side.
“Not yet. You have to keep it clean.” Peeta said sympathetically. You gripped his shoulder and hissed in pain as he dunked you in again.
“Look at them.” Finnick snorted and nodded towards you and Peeta.
“You think it’s real?” Johanna asked as she sharpened her axe with another knife.
“What?”
“The whole lovelorn star crossed lovers plot. Think it’s all an act?” Johanna asked as she watched the two of you in the water with the sun beginning to set behind you.
“I used to.” Finnick replied.
“Used to?”
“Yeah. I thought it was an act at first. I think we all did. But that boy loves her.” Finnick said most assuredly.
“Okay. That’s enough.” Peeta decided and carried you back to the shore.
“I can walk.” You chuckled when he continued to carry you up the beach.
“I know.” He said simply and continued carrying you. He gently laid you down by the rest of your group and knelt beside you.
“I need something to cover this.” He realized and looked around but all he saw was sand.
“Can you please get me some leaves from the jungle?” Peeta asked Johanna.
“Get them yourself.” She scoffed.
“I can’t leave her. Please, just help me this once.” Peeta asked again.
“Peeta, it’s okay. Really. You can go.” You assured him by taking his hand and squeezing it. He blushed when you did this and nodded his head.
“I’ll be right back.” He promised before running off into the jungle. He returned shortly after with a couple leaves and water in a coconut shell.
“I got some leaves and water. Can you sit up?”
“Yeah. Thank you.” You smiled in appreciation as you painfully sat up. Peeta held the coconut shell to your lips and helped you sip some water before using the leaves to create a bandage for your wound. The sun had set below the horizon at that point and you were definitely ready to go to sleep.
“You can sleep. I’ll keep first watch.” Peeta said as he read your mind. You usually protested and let others sleep first, but you were too tired to do that today.
“Thank you. Wake me up in a few hours so you can sleep too.” You told him as you laid down on the sand. Peeta sat beside you until the morning came and when you woke up, you realized he was in the same exact position as he was when you had fallen asleep.
“Hey.” You said through a yawn that hurt to complete. You winced and touched your side as you tried to sit up. Peeta put a hand on your back to help you sit up and immediately handed you a coconut shell full of water. You smiled graciously at him and drank the whole thing.
“When did you sleep last night?” You asked when you were done.
“I don’t know. Sometimes after-“
“He didn’t.” Finnick cut him off. You looked at Peeta for an explanation and he was red with embarrassment.
“What? You didn’t sleep?” You asked and smacked his arm.
“I tried to take over after I got a few hours but lover boy didn’t let me. He said he needed to make sure you didn’t bleed out.” Finnick continued as he headed towards the water to fish for some breakfast.
“P, you need to sleep. I was fine.” You said and shook his arm.
“I was too. I wasn’t tired.” Peeta replied and you knew he was lying. You gave him a look but he just looked to the side.
“I’m really okay. The salt water helped.” You tried to assure him.
“Oh, yeah. Salt water. We have to keep it clean.” Peeta remembered and stood up. Before you could protest, he scooped you up and carried you to the water. You didn’t complain this time even though it hurt to be in the water. You knew he just needed to take care of you or else he’d lose his mind with worrying. Once he was satisfied, he carried you back to the beach and gently laid you down.
“Are you hungry?” He asked once you were back on the sand.
“I’m all right.” You answered.
“Are you hungry?” Johanna mocked Peeta’s voice in a high pitched manner. You looked at her angrily as Peeta turned red.
“Instead of mocking me, why don’t you do something to help?” He said to her.
“Help how? No one else can get near her because of you. You should’ve seen the way he was watching you last night. I don’t think I ever saw him blink.” Johanna snorted. You looked over at Peeta and he was looking down at his hands with embarrassment. You put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it endearingly.
“It’s nice that Peeta cares so much. He’s right about infection. A lot of people have died from it in these games before they even realize what’s going on.” You defended him, making him smile at you.
“Oh, give me a break.” Johanna groaned. “Why don’t you two make out some more and get us some sponsors?”
“Yeah. Put on a show so we can eat.” Finnick laughed. Peeta shifted uncomfortably and you felt bad for him. You knew your fake relationship was a sensitive subject for him and now he had to listen to his allies mock it.
“Stop it.” You stated. “We’re not doing that.”
“Please? Just say your vows again in front of the camera. I’m starving.” Johanna whined.
“Then go hunt.” You snapped.
“Come on. What’s the point of being allies with the star crossed lovers if you’re not gonna kiss and get us some parachutes?” Finnick asked with a teasing smile.
“I know. I thought we’d at least get something when Peeta nearly lost his mind after not being able to find you for-what was it- two minutes? I thought his head was gonna explode.” Johanna added on.
“So did I.” Finnick agreed. “If you think about it, we don’t even have to kill the other tributes. Let’s just hide Y/n for a few hours and let Peeta kill everyone while he tries to find her.”
“Leave him alone. No more jokes.” You ordered all while Peeta stayed silently looking out at the waves. Everyone was quiet for a minute and you assumed the jokes were finally done. Peeta looked at you and smiled sadly so you took his hand and squeezed it.
“If they show us how they made that baby, I bet the Capital would send us a feast.” Johanna said to cut the silence. Finnick burst out laughing, making Peeta get up and walk away. You watched him walk into the jungle before looking at Johanna and Mason angrily.
“Look what you did. Why’d you have to tease him?” You asked and smacked Finnicks arm.
“Sorry. Go check on him. Tell loverboy I didn’t mean to make him cry.” Finnick pouted teasingly. You rolled your eyes at him and got up off the floor.
“You guys don’t know him. He’s a lot stronger than you give him credit for. Don’t forget that he won his games.” You said in Peeta’s defense. That left Johanna and Finnick silent as you walked off into the jungle in the direction Peeta had gone in. You found him using the spile to get some more water from you. You weren’t even thirsty from how often he’d been getting you water but you weren’t about to tell him that.
“Hey.” You said as you approached him.
“Hey. I was getting you some water.” Peeta said without looking at you. You could tell he was upset by what the others had been and you hated that you couldn’t even talk about it without the cameras picking it up.
“Thank you.” You smiled softly at him as you took the water.
“If you’re hungry, I can go pick some stuff. I know Finnicks been catching a lot of fish so if you need something sweeter, I can try and go find a berry bush.” He offered and still didn’t look in your eyes. You took him face and turned his head so that he had to look at you. He finally looked into your eyes and smiled sadly.
“Thank you.” You said sincerely. “But really, I’m really okay. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I know you can take care of yourself.”
“I can. But I appreciate you taking care of me. I just don’t want you to worry about me so much. We all need to be on high alert. I can’t be taking up your thoughts all the time.”
“But you do.” He said with a sad smile. You smiled back before pulling him into a hug. He hugged you back and was careful not to put his hands anywhere near your wound.
“I’m sorry they were teasing you.” You said into his ear.
“It’s okay. I deserve it for being so sensitive.”
“I like that you’re sensitive. It’s one of my favorite qualities of yours.” You told him as you pulled out of the bush but kept your arms around him.
“One of?” He raised an eyebrow.
“I like your banana bread too.” You replied, making him roll his eyes.
“Oh great. She likes my banana bread.” He chuckled. “That’s not one of my qualities.”
“I know. But I think about it all the time. I smell it sometimes in my dreams.”
“I’ll make you some when we go home. Your own loaf.” He promised you.
“I can’t wait.” You said through a sad laugh. You knew there was no possibility of that happening, but it made you happy to imagine anyway.
“Do you think we’ll go home?” Peeta asked after a beat of silence.
“I don’t know. We did last time.”
“Yeah but what are the chances of that happening again?” He said quietly.
“I try not to think about it.” You admitted.
“Me too. That’s why I spend so much time thinking about you.” Peeta replied. You looked into his puppy dog eyes for a while and stayed in comfortable silence. Peeta stared at you and touched your hair to keep himself grounded.
“I killed that guy.” Peeta said suddenly in a quiet voice.
“The one who attacked me?”
“Yeah. Him. I threw an axe at him. I could’ve just punched him but I didn’t. I went for the kill.”
“Why?” You wondered. You weren’t mad, it just wasn’t like Peeta to kill someone.
“Because he attacked you.” Peeta said simply.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you kill.”
“I didn’t either.” He admitted. “Do you think differently of me?”
“No. As long as you don’t try to kill me now that you’ve tasted your first blood.” You joked.
“I would never hurt you.” Peeta said sincerely.
“Oh, I know. I was just kidding.” You assured him.
“I know. I just…I don’t think you understand what you mean to me. I saw that guy put his hands on you and I just lost it. I saw red. I’ve never been so scared in my life. I thought he was gonna take you from me.” Peeta’s voice cracked on the last part so you pulled him back into a hug. You swayed back and forth and rubbed his back to calm him down.
“Hey, hey, hey. I’m okay. You saved me.” You said in his ear.
“I can’t lose you.” He sniffled and hugged you tighter.
“You won’t.”
“I can’t.” He repeated. “So when I’m a pain about keeping your wound clean or drinking some water, please just listen to me. I need to know that you’re okay.”
“Okay. I can do that.” You assured him.
“You better. Because I swear to God, if you die-“
You cut Peeta off by pulling out of the hug to kiss him instead. Peeta stiffened for a moment at the unexpected contact but then melted into the kiss. The kiss didn’t last very long because Peeta got in his head about the motive behind the kiss.
“You don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to.” He pulled away to whisper to you.
“I know that.” You said simply and reconnected his lips in a kiss. Peeta cupped your face to keep you close as he kissed you back. His insecurities melted away into the kiss and he let himself believe you really did feel the same.
“Hey, lovebirds. Get a room or join us for breakfast.” Finnick called from the beach. You pulled out of the kiss and rested your forehead against his.
“I wish he’d leave us alone.” Peeta sighed.
“I got this.” You told Peeta and turned to Finnick.
“I thought you wanted to see how we made the baby?” You called back. You could hear Finnick laugh as he walked back to the water to catch more fish. All while Peeta was a blushing mess over what you were implying.
“You hungry?” You asked Peeta once you were alone again.
“Can we just stay here for a while?” He asked you. You smiled and nodded your head to show him you weren’t going anywhere.
“As long as you want.”
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destourtereaux · 9 months
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just a little bit of hope - peeta mellark x fem!reader
⤷ summary: with katniss and gale both gone, peeta steps in as an unlikely hunting partner for y/n. ⤷ wc: 2.6k ⤷ requested? yes. see request here. ⤷ follow @lovebirdupdates and turn on notifs to be on my 'taglist'!
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⤷ a/n: two things - one, peeta has dimples here, it's just how i imagine him, so please bear with me; two, pretend gale's father is alive please, i didn't think our girl would be able to support two families, no matter how strong she is.
___
The day is horridly warm, exacerbated by a heavy humidity. As you wake, hot air suffocates your surroundings, and the sun glares through the window, hung on a span of blue sky. Pushing yourself up on your elbows, your bare feet find the ground, then immediately retract. The floor is burning hot, baked by the sun. You grit your teeth and force your feet back onto the wood, ignoring the searing heat. You have things to do.
You make a bowl of porridge, watery, but edible. You drink half, and leave the rest for your mother. Your father is off to the mines already, his boots absent. You get dressed, pulling on the prettiest dress you own. You're ready. Or, as ready as one can be. 
Today, there will be no hunting with Katniss and Gale, no trading at the Hob. Today, there is only the reaping.
___
You spot Katniss at the edge of the square, gripping her sister's hand. Your friend looks nothing like she normally does. Gone are the boots and hunting jacket, replaced by a simple blouse tucked into a modest skirt. You nod grimly at her; neither of you feels like smiling.
Gale is over on the other side of the square, across from the stage they've set up. Your eyes meet, and he mouths "good luck".
After a few minutes of the routine announcements, Haymitch is introduced, then Effie. By now, the crowd has settled into an air of grimness, despite the clear blue sky overhead.
You don't hear Effie's jokes, and nobody laughs. She finally stops smiling, looking extremely awkward – you almost feel bad for her. Almost.
Then, she sticks her hand in the ball of names, each carrying a life, and pulls one out. Her smile is back on her face when she announces, "Without further ado, our female tribute is: Katniss Everdeen!"
You freeze, repeating her words in your head as if hoping they'd sound different. Your oldest friend – determined, brave Katniss, given a death sentence.
But Effie doesn't wait. Her next words are just as devastating. "And for our male tribute: Gale Hawthorne! Come on up now, dear, don't be shy."
Peacekeepers erupt through the crowd, grabbing your two best friends in the entire world by the shoulders, and forcing them up to the stage. Katniss whips her head around, looking at you with pleading eyes. You know what she's asking for.
"I'll take care of her, Katniss. I won't let her die. And you can't let yourself die, okay? Promise me. Katniss! Promise me!"
Your last words are hysterical, but ironically, Katniss is not. Having heard your commitment to Prim, she is satisfied. She yanks her arms free of the Peacekeepers and walks by herself, her head held high and her face serene.
You grab Prim's hand. Her whole body is shaking, wracked with sobs. You don't hear Effie's last words, but you know what they are.
"May the odds be ever in your favor."
___
It's been two weeks since the reaping which stole your best friends. It's shocking how quickly you fell back into routine, as if nothing has even changed. The only indicator of their absence is an added part of your day: splitting your earnings between your family and Prim's.
There are now double the mouths to feed, so you spend double the hours in the forest hunting. Villagers are sympathetic – that may be the only reason you're all still alive. They love Prim, and they trust you. Everything you hunt manages to be traded.
But still, you're cracking. It's just too much, and you don't know if it'll ever get better. You have no idea what Katniss and Gale are going through right now, and you don't let yourself think of them. It would break your heart.
___
Peeta Mellark has always been observant. His teachers told his parents this, back when he was a child. It's this trait that makes him notice you. The girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders, killing herself day after day to provide for not one, but two whole families.
He doesn't understand how no one else sees it. But maybe they do – it's just that no one in District 12 is really in a position to do anything about it. Still, the fact remains that you're close to breaking. You can't keep doing this alone.
Peeta Mellark has never been brave. His mother yells at him, beats him, and he takes it. He has never talked back to teachers, or dared disobey the Peacekeepers. So when he offers to hunt with you, he surprises even himself.
"What?"
"I'm Peeta Mellark. We were in the same class, and my parents run the bakery. I was wondering if I'd be able to hunt with you?"
So you weren't hallucinating. The baker's son – a boy you didn't think could kill a fly – had just asked to hunt with you. Your shock translates into a small laugh, not that anything about the situation is funny, really. Hurt flashes in Peeta's eyes, and you quickly backtrack.
"I'm sorry, that was rude. I'm Y/N L/N, I know who you are. I just didn't think you'd be the hunting type," you explain. Because you're gentle, and kind, and I've never seen you hurt anyone, with your words or physically. But you don't add that last part. 
"I've only ever hunted with Katniss and Gale, you must know them, they were reaped this year." Your voice cracks a bit with those last words, and Peeta acknowledges the fact with a nod. His hand twitches; he wants to pat you on the back, or grip your shoulder, anything to stop the melancholy leaking into your eyes, but he doesn't.
"But you're welcome to join me," you end with a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.
___
The new partnership starts early the following day. You meet a groggy Peeta near his home, and the two of you begin the walk to the Meadow.
You hear no electrical hum from the fencing, which means it's safe to touch, and you guide Peeta across the boundary which separates the Seam from the forest. This is all illegal, you know, but you're too used to it to even notice. Peeta, on the other hand, feels an exhilarating sense of rebellion as he crosses the barbed wire, following your figure into the woods.
"You've never hunted before, have you?" you probe, although it's more of a confirmation than an actual question.
Peeta nods. "But I'm a quick learner. And I won't get in your way, I promise."
You smile, a genuine one this time. "We'll see about that, Mellark."
Over the next hour, you go over all the traps you had set from the day before, collecting from Katniss and Gale's traps as well. True to his word, Peeta picks it up quickly, and even has a great eye for camouflaging the traps. This becomes his task, using grass and twigs and flowers as his medium, painting a deceptive scene which looks safe and welcoming to the many squirrels and rabbits in these parts.
You also start him on foraging. Only one type of berry is poisonous in the Meadow, and it's easy to identify. You make sure he's clear on which to avoid, and leave him to it, while you head to the hollowed out tree where you've hidden your knives. The familiar sight of Katniss' bow and arrows within the trunk brings a pang in your heart. You leave them nestled within and retrieve only your daggers. You were never a good archer.
Another hour passes, and you return to Peeta with a deer. You're happier than you have been in weeks – this will be enough for almost a week's worth of food. Peeta is not empty-handed either, he has two buckets of progress, one filled with strawberries, the other with raspberries. He gives you a soft smile – he has dimples, you think. He then immediately turns a faint shade of green, having noticed the dead deer. 
You're seized with the desire to laugh, "Why'd you offer to hunt with me if you get queasy from the sight of game?"
He looks at you with an indignant pout, and you can't stop the giggle that tumbles out, then the full on laughter. 
"I'm not like this with all game, just, you know, the larger animals. I can look at dead squirrels just fine – stop laughing!"
Making your way back, within the District, you stop just outside of the fence to split your gatherings.
"Take the squirrels and rabbits, and the bucket of raspberries. I'll keep the deer and trade the strawberries with the mayor," you offer.
"No, you take it all," he crosses the barrier carrying the buckets, and you follow after him, shaking your head.
"I can't, Peeta. That wouldn't be right. This is a fair split."
"I never said I wanted to keep what we hunt. Only that I wanted to hunt with you, Y/N. Take it. I know you need it more than I do. I'll see you next weekend?"
And with that, he pops a strawberry in his mouth, smiling at the sweetness, and walks away.
You're left with your mouth open, unable to process what had just happened.
___
The next morning, you show up at the bakery. His bakery. You earned a few dollars from selling your strawberries to the mayor, and you figure that if Peeta won't take anything, you should buy from him instead.
A few dollars is enough for two loaves of good bread, and so you head to the bread aisle. But your gaze catches on the beautiful cakes on display, decorated with multi-colored icing and swirling script written in melted chocolate.
"I did those," comes a voice from behind you.
Whipping your head around, you see Peeta himself, looking at the cakes with fondness and a bit of pride.
"You did what?"
"The cakes. I decorated them. My mom bakes, but I decorate. I like doing it – it's like painting, just on a different canvas."
"They're really lovely. You have a talent for it," you confirm, "I bet that's why you were so good at hiding traps yesterday. You can see nature's patterns."
He gives you a soft smile in return, and you can see the dimples again. They're adorable, you think. I want to see them every day.
He gives a small cough, looking at you questioningly.
You startle, and blush a deep crimson. "Sorry, I lost my train of thought. I'm here to buy bread. Two loaves," you say as you lower your head to stare down at the ground, refusing to meet his eyes.
It's only when you hear a chuckle that you lift your head back up. Peeta's eyes are sparkling, and his dimples are clear as ever.
"I'll give you three."
___
Two months after the reaping, your partnership with Peeta is still going strong. Every Saturday, the two of you head to the woods, and spend half the day fishing, gathering, and hunting. Originally silent company has evolved into true friendship, with witty banter, fleeting touches, and shared smiles.
You have come to know Peeta Mellark. He isn't just the baker's son, the one who decorates cakes and hates seeing dead animals. He's the boy who saved you, when no one even knew that you needed saving. 
Day after day, he has shown up, offering kindness, companionship, and warmth, without expecting anything in return. You care about him more than you thought you could ever care about someone who wasn't family. You care about his messy blond hair, and you care about his broad shoulders. You care about his blue eyes which sparkle when he tells a joke, and his beautiful heart which leads him to give the occasional customer an extra free loaf. Most of all, you care about his dimples, which come out when he smiles at you. You care so much about him, that it scares you.
And Peeta cares about you. He cares about your hands, calloused but nimble, lethal when holding onto your twin daggers. He cares about your face, how it glows when you laugh at his jokes in the woods, but dims a bit when you're back in the district. He cares about your hair, always tied in a ponytail when in the Meadow, but left to flow freely down your shoulders when hunting's over. Most of all, he cares about your smile, which comes out when Prim thanks you week after week for your help, and forces you to take bottles of goat milk and pet Buttercup. He cares so much about you, that it scares him.
___
This hunting day, Peeta comes with news from the Capitol. A few weeks back, he started giving you updates on the Games, after you told him that you couldn't stomach the thought of watching your friends fight to the death.
"Y/N! Good news!" he greets, exiting the bakery. As the two of you begin your walk, he adds, "I'll tell you when we get to the Meadow."
"You're insufferable, Mellark. You can't just hook me like that, and not tell me what it is."
Peeta doesn't answer, so you start walking twice as fast, ushering him toward the edge of the Seam so you could figure out what exactly he wanted to tell you.
Once in the grassy plains of the Meadow, between the forest and the fence, you turn back to the boy, the impatience evident in your face.
"Tell me, Peeta, or I swear I'll –"
"Alright, alright," he laughs, "but it's not really good news, per se. It's just a little bit of hope."
You nod, urging him to continue.
"It's about the Games. About Katniss and Gale."
The last traces of your smile fade. Concern is etched onto your face, and your eyebrows scrunch up, your jaw tightens.
Noticing this, Peeta pulls you in by the waist, so that your head lands on his shoulder. "It's good news, Y/N. Don't look so defeated. They're both still alive, and they're fighting."
"But at least one of them won't be coming back," you whisper into his neck, so quietly you wonder if he even heard. But Peeta always hears you.
"Y/N. That's the news. They could both come back. Caesar Flickerman has just announced that they will be changing the rules this year – allowing two victors of the Games, provided they're tributes from the same district!"
You look up at him in awe. A change to the Games. Katniss and Gale, not one or the other. Both could win. Both could come back.
You choke down a sob, staring at Peeta's brilliant smile and those mesmerizing dimples. And before you can process what you're doing, you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his in a bout of bravery.
Peeta's frozen for a second, before he begins to reciprocate the kiss in earnest. He pulls you in, one hand holding your neck and the other wrapped around your torso, pressing himself impossibly closer. He tastes like icing and strawberries, and you can smell the comforting scent of warm bread.
The kiss ends far too quickly for your liking, and you're suddenly impossibly shy, all bravado gone. You lower your eyes so you won't have to meet his eyes, but realize that you're practically sitting on his lap, having moved there at some point during the kiss. This observation brings a flaming blush onto your cheeks, and you scramble to move away, but you're held in place by Peeta's arms, forming an iron-tight cage around your figure.
He brings a hand to your chin, lifting it up, and kisses you again, more gently this time.
"Don't go all shy on me now, Y/L/N," he teases, and holds the back of his hand against your forehead, as if feeling for a fever. "You're burning up, darling."
"You know damn well that's not a fever–", you start, but you're cut off by his laughter, and once again distracted by those dimples of his. 
Maybe Peeta was right. Maybe there is just a little bit of hope left for you.
___
interested in other works of mine? see my masterlist!
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bruisedboys · 5 months
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reader and peeta showering together after a hard day (just some innocent intimacy nothing suggestive) 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 love this man sm 😭🤞🏻🤞🏻
!!!!!! thank you for the req angel <3 this inspired me so so much! thanks for kickstarting my writing for peeta era hehe
peeta mellark x fem!reader 16+ please for non-sexual nudity. not really in universe but can read as post mockingjay if you want it to!
Peeta’s sketching on the bed when you come inside. One knee propped up with his back against the wall behind the bed, his sketchbook pressed against his thigh. His golden hair falls over his forehead, messy where he’s been too distracted by his drawing to push it back.
He looks up when you enter, smiling a bruising smile you don’t feel deserving of.
“Hey. Hey, sweetheart.” It’s alarming how quickly he sets aside his book and pencil to reach for you, as if he hadn’t been immersed in his sketching mere seconds ago. “C’mere, I missed you.”
As much as you’d like to be wrapped in his strong arms right now, you’re filthy, and he’s just changed the sheets earlier today.
“I can’t. I’m all dirty, see?” You wiggle your dirt-covered hands at him. You’ve been in the garden all afternoon. Time drifted away from you as you planted a new batch of tomato seeds. By the time you were done, the sun was setting and you hadn’t even realised. Your knees are stained dark brown and you’ve got dirt up to your elbows. “I’ll shower first, then we can cuddle. Sorry, baby.”
Peeta looks decidedly put out. You turn away from him before he can convince you any further, because you know if he looks at you like that for much longer you’ll give in. You pull fresh clothes from your side of the dresser and then move down the hallway to the bathroom.
The showers warming up and you’re starting to undress when Peeta knocks on the door. It’s unlocked, and he doesn’t have to, but he knocks anyway.
“It’s me,” he says. Who else would it be? You think. Silly man. “Can I come in?”
You pull the door open for him instead of answering. You’re halfway out of your clothes but it doesn’t phase him. Sure, he looks, but not for long, and not in a way that would suggest anything other than affection.
“Hey,” he says. He pushes the door closed behind him. The shower runs in the background, a peaceful thrum. “Do you mind if I join you? You can say no.”
You huff a soft laugh. He should know by now that saying no to him is a near impossible feat. “Yeah, of course. I don’t mind.”
You finish undressing quickly, eager to be clean and warm. Peeta leaves to get fresh towels while you hop in under the hot spray. The majority of the dirt on your skin has been rinsed by the time he gets back. You hear him moving around the bathroom for a minute or so before he pulls the shower curtain aside. You let him in, moving aside to make space for him. It’s tight, but it’s not uncomfortable. Weirdly, it’s almost a perfect fit for the two of you.
Peeta moves under the shower head and the water quickly drenches one half of his hair and one of his shoulders. His big hand slides over your hip and he carefully moves you into a position where you’ve both got equal spray.
“Hi,” he says, smiling. He’s so close you could count his freckles, each light brown spot scattered across his collarbones.
“Hello,” you say back. His thumb rubs your hipbone, up down, up down. “Is it too warm?”
“No, it’s perfect.”
You smile and touch your palm to his cheek. “You okay?” You’re not asking because he seems out of sorts. You’re asking because you want to know, and if he’s not he’ll tell you. He does the same for you. It’s just how you love each other.
Peeta nods. “Yeah, I’m okay. How did your gardening go?”
You beam. You love that he cares about what you care about. “Good. We’ll have tomatoes growing out of our ears by summer, I think.”
Peeta laughs. It’s a brilliant sound that bounces off the shower walls and warms your chest. “Awesome,” he grins. Then, “Hey, you’ve got dirt under your ear.” He reaches behind you to grab the flannel hanging on the shower caddy. “Look that way for me?”
He holds you still with a hand at your jaw and rubs the dirt from your skin so gently you barely feel it. His touch is like a magnet — you’re drawn to it over and over again, no matter how generously he gives it to you. When he asks if he can wash your hair, you’d be crazy if you said no.
“Yeah, please,” you tell him, past caring how desperate and needing of his touch and love you are. He knows, anyway.
Peeta turns you by the hips so your back is to him, then gently tilts your head backwards. You hand him your shampoo and he squeezes a dollop onto his hands, rubbing his palms together before spreading the bubbles over the top of your head. He’s very, very gentle with it, much more than you’ve ever been, massaging the soapy, sweet-smelling bubbles into your hair, fingers rubbing circles onto your scalp. His dedicated touch, along with the gentle thrum and warmth of the shower spray, is enough to almost put you to sleep.
“Okay, you can rise now,” Peeta speaks up. His tone is soft and you suspect he’s noticed your sleepiness. He gets very soft with you when you’re tired. “Shut your eyes, please.”
You do as he says and he directs you under the spray. He holds a hand over your forehead like a barrier so the bubbles can’t escape and sneak into your closed eyes. The action in itself makes your chest ache. He cares more than you could ever comprehend.
When he’s done rinsing you finish scrubbing the dirt from your knees, your elbows. Peeta washes his own hair, and you help him rinse the same way he did for you.
“Thank you, angel,” he says. Warm water and soapy bubbles stream over his shoulders, his neck. His eyelashes are wet, clinging to each other in sparkly triangles. He dips down and kisses your shoulder, then your cheek. “Love you.”
You beam. You love him more than anything. You get on your toes to kiss him properly, a warm press of your mouth on his, a promise for more of the same later, when you’re clean and dry and fed. “Love you too, Peeta.”
-
thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if u enjoyed 🤍
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targaryenluvs · 5 months
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— HUNGER GAMES
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a/n: look at my cute lil smiley fin 😭 god i love hunger games so much you don’t understand it’s my comfort movies and finn is my comfort character ❤️
RED MARKED STORIES HAVE DARK THEMES. READ WARNINGS PLEASE.
FINNICK ODAIR
— want and desire (req) dark themes
— summary: you’d thought you’d escaped the capitol, and to some extent, him, the ever so sweet and charming finnick odair. but apparently your fate had been signed, as it seemed you couldn’t get away from him, no matter how hard you tried.
— spring cleaning (blurb req)
— summary: finnick finally decides to clean out the garage with your help after you asking him forever.
— victors spoils
— summary: a victor should be celebrated! a victor should get what ever they wish, even if it’s a sweet capitol girl who misplaced her kindness in someone who was in desperate need of reprieve and distraction.
— lonely waters
— summary: even if you resided in the fishing district you only ever got close to the water for swimming late at night. it was your favourite time of the day, but it leaves you open and vulnerable to predators and people, the water won’t save you.. silly girl, don’t you remember? finnick odairs a champion swimmer.
— my people ft annie cresta
— summary: you’d been hired to help keep annie’s home clean and to keep her company. what you didn’t expect was to fall in love with her. and to find out that she was with finnick, and annie doesn’t want to let either of you go. but you’ve found your people, and you couldn’t be happier.
— miss officer
— summary: you’re tasked with training finnick odair for war and to fight in the captiol. only problem? he’s completely enamoured with you.
— breakups and makeups
— summary: you and finnick used to date, but it took a nasty turn when you heard rumours of his dalliances. but now the two of you reunite apart of the same alliance. will you make up or break up? again?
— damage control & lifeline (anon blurb)
— summary: finnick and his mentor getting into a fake relationship for damage control after peeta and katniss’ stunt at the 74th games + finnick saving his stylist from execution by proposing marriage.
— unrequited (anon blurb, implied smut)
— summary: you’d divulged one to many secrets to your favourite victor and he wasn’t afraid of using them against you. karmas a bitch!
— oh baby! (smut)
— summary: finnick found you to be as cute as ever. but you aren’t exactly the smartest in the room according to him. luckily, finnicks more than happy to help his sweet baby succeed, and he will not let you forget him.
— capitol girl (req blurb)
— summary: finnick loves his favourite victor.
— love you best part two (req, smut)
— summary: your boyfriend doesn’t exactly like you around other men without him.
CORIOLANUS SNOW
— trapped
— summary: after the 10th hunger games, coriolanus set his sights on a girl from his younger years to be his wife. disgusted by his actions and scared by the rumours your family agreed. as you realise he wasn’t the same boy from before, snow finds himself intrigued, especially when you seem to be visiting a friends house too often.
— delicate*
— summary: coriolanus had to marry. lucky for him one of the most eligible girls of the capitol was up for grabs. only problem? he hoped his cold exterior would keep her away but nothing broke her sweet spirit. what happens when he finds himself being drawn to her light? and how far was he willing to go to keep it untainted and all to himself?
— ravage delicate pt 2
— summary: he’d won the election, much to your elation. now you’d have to navigate the fame, fortune and status as the first lady of panem. but coriolanus just wanted you all to himself, and he’d do anything to scare you into his arms.
— safe and sound ft lucy gray baird
— summary: somehow you’d ended up in the games, snow and lucy would do anything to keep you safe.
— worth it
summary: coriolanus made the mistake of protecting lucy gray during the bombing, rather than you.
— runaway
summary: you’d always considered coriolanus to be a friend of yours. family even. but after sejanus’s death you find him to be off. he’s keeping something from your family and you’ve run out of time to get as far away as you can.
— our little dove ft lucy gray baird
— summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you.
— our little dove alt ending
— summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you.
— late to the party
— summary: after corio was sent away to district 12, your managed to come to terms with the fact that he did not love you by any means. but what happens when he realises he liked that affection? and what happens when you’re already in a relationship?
— brown jewel (req)
— summary: he was a lifeline and you’d grabbed on in hopes to avoid the reaping, but you were coriolanus’ obsession and he was not going to let you go.
— temper tantrum (req)
— summary: you were the daughter of one of the richest couples of panem. everything you’ve ever wanted, handed to you. coriolanus had a short temper and you were stubborn. who knows what could happen?
— mr president (req)
— summary: mr president seems to be especially enamoured with his favourite maid, you.
— all grown up (smut)
— summary: you were always tigris's annoying rich friend to coriolanus, but once he returns from 12 you seem to be irresistible, not only to him.
— charity (req)
— summary: president snow was praised for his love and devotion to his wife, a cripple. if only they knew how you’d ended up that way.
— love you best (req, smut, read as coryo or finnick)
— summary: your boyfriend doesn’t like you around other men without him.
PEETA MELLARK
— sweet like sugar (blurb req)
— summary: peeta teaches you how to bake since you’re nowhere near as good as you thought, not that you’d admit it.
—paranoia (dark req)
— summary: peeta tries to reintegrate into society in district 13 and get over his fear of you being taken from him. no one noticed just how badly the capitol messed him up until he lashes out.
SEJANUS PLINTH
— coming soon!
LUCY GRAY BAIRD
— safe and sound ft coriolanus snow
— summary: somehow you’d ended up in the games, snow and lucy would do anything to keep you safe.
— destined
— summary: you and lucy enjoy time together at the lake.
—our little dove ft coriolanus snow
— summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you.
— our little dove alt ending
— summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you.
KATNISS EVERDEEN
— coming soon!
JOHANNA MASON
— underestimate (blurb req)
— summary: johanna learns not to underestimate you.
ANNIE CRESTA
— my people ft finnick odair
— summary: you’d been hired to help keep annie’s home clean and to keep her company. what you didn’t expect was to fall in love with her. and to find out that she was with finnick, and annie doesn’t want to let either of you go. but you’ve found your people, and you couldn’t be happier.
TRIBUTE!READER
— coming soon!
(in general, no ship just the reader in the arena, with katniss n peeta etc)
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