#peeta x you

[janitorhutcherson]

peeta mellark the type of man to stick his hand between ur thighs under the table at dinner while having the nerve to force you to make conversation

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Sweet Delights

Peeta Mellark x AFAB!Reader

Summery: It's a slow work day in District 12. With rain pouring down outside, who can blame you for wanting to indulge a little? Everything's fine so long as no one walks in... right?

Tags: Pre-established relationship, no use of y/n, pet names, reader has AFAB body/female pronouns, switch!Peeta, switch!Reader, edging, female fingering, teasing, count down, orgasm denial, blow job, face fucking, public sex, someone walks in, dirty talk, Peeta's a freak but he's sweet about it, praise kink if you squint, mentions of eating out, cum swallowing, cursing, post-Mockingjay but that's not really relevant, no reader orgasm this time around. Once again, I'm probably forgetting something.

Notes: I have to say, I did not expect Peeta to win the poll! And not to worry for everyone else, I'll get to all those characters eventually. (Derek girlies, I see you and I love you.) Thank you for your support on the last one, I hope you like this one too! Bon ABBA teeth.

•°《▪︎♡▪︎》°•

Peeta loves surprises.

Giving them, receiving them. If it's unexpected, Peeta is practically bouncing off his chair to figure out what to do with it.

It made everyday life sweeter. Slipping a note into his apron pocket when he wasn't looking for him to discover, finding a million more hidden in my apron. Little drawings hidden amongst everyday things, like the wildflowes Peeta likes to draw and place next to my powders and perfumes. But best of all surprises were the little pastries we would make when the days were slow and the other was watching the front of the bakery. Usually using scraps, because Peeta detests wasting food, but always delicious nonetheless.

The best innocent surprise, I should say.

Today was an especially slow day. Rain pounding down in District 12, making the roads thick with mud. It's a blessing for the hot ovens that fight against the cold seeping through the front windows. Although they're helping me more than Peeta, who's up front perched at the counter, insistent as always that someone needs to be watching the shop. "We won't hear the bell over the rain," he'd said.

I knew better than that. There were tells when Peeta wanted a surprise. He'd never just ask for something, always fearing rejection. Of course the minute I opened my mouth he was ready to do whatever I had even intrusively dreamed of so long as it meant love and praise. But to ask for himself? It's a whole different matter. So when he is insistent I work alone in the back, I understand that this is his own silent way of asking for some sort of surprise. And with the way his broad shoulders look in that pale yellow knit sweater, who am I to deny him?

I'm not one to deny him anything, quite frankly.

The best surprises of all are when we sneak up behind the other, always starting so innocently. Maybe while one of us is baking, maybe while one of us is simply dressing. With the quick slip of a hand, it doesn't take long before the other is panting and begging for release. Not that we always give it to each other.

Peeta liked sneaking up on me in private. Usually when I was in the back baking.

"What are you working on?" He'd usually ask.

"Custom order," I may answer with a smile. He liked my smiles, always said so.

"What are the details?" He'd ask. He'd put his hands on my lower back, rubbing soft enough to not disturb me while still working out some knots.

Then I'd prattle off details. This one is for so-and-so down on whatever-street-or-corner, they'd like a cake.

"For the Harvest Festival?" He'd ask. I'd nod, still focused on my task. "How many orders do we have for the Festival?"

"A good bit, it's our busiest time," I'd always say with a bright, soft tone to my voice. He'd chuckle, placing a small kiss on the back of my neck and pressing his hips against mine from behind, usually revealing his hard on.

"So, how many orders this year?" He'd ask. His hands would work at a knot, his breath hot on my neck, and his hips would roll ever so slowly against mine, taking his time to build both of us up.

"Ah, I think- I think 12?" I'd say, trying to focus on both him and whatever I was making. Cake. Right. Stir.

"12?" He'd ask. His cock would be deliciously hard, grinding against my clothed cunt just a bit harder as his hands would return to my hips, steadying me against him. "That's pretty good."

"Double digits," I'd say brightly, my voice breathy as I struggle more to focus. Cake. Stir. Hands, not hips.

But I'd always do hips instead, leaning back and tilting my head ever so slightly so he can see my enjoyment.

"You need to stir," Peeta would gently guide in my ear. My back would press against his front, his chin now resting on my shoulder.

"I know," I'd say softly. I didn't know shit.

He'd chuckle, one hand slipping to my front to cup one of my breasts.

"Need to get those orders out," he'd remind me. "You always seem so stressed about being on time."

"One of us has to be," I'd say. His hand on my hip would find the band of my pants, slipping past them and teasing me, sliding his fingers against my wet folds.

"Pick up the whisk," he'd instruct. My hands would shake as they obeyed, moving from being splayed across the marble counter to resume my task.

"Stir slowly," he'd say. His large fingers would slip over my entrance, coating himself in the thick lube now dripping from me. "You want to make sure the texture's correct."

It took such mental energy to balance the two things. Especially when he would finally sink in his middle finger, always going knuckle deep and twirling it around inside of me, making sure to leave no spot untouched. His other hand would pinch and pull at my breast, giving special care to make his fingers replicate the feeling of his soft lips wrapped around my sensitive nipples.

"What's the next order?" He'd ask. I could feel myself dripping down his hand, and I knew he loved this. Peeta would do whatever he could to make sure I was wet, even when he wouldn't go any further than simple teasing. I think he liked the idea of me always being ready. Not that he would assume. He always started out slow, and if I ever said no it was never a big deal. He'd simply continue talking to me and go on with his day perfectly fine. But if I was willing, he'd always massage or do whatever until he could feel my arousal himself. I think it's why he likes eating out best. Especially when I'd talk him through it, usually promising to cum down his throat while tugging his soft blond hair. His eyes would grow wide and soft at that, his whimpers increasing as he'd fuck me quicker with his tongue, grinding himself against whatever. It was a beautiful mess he'd turn himself into, desperate and begging silently as he clutched my hips.

"The what?" I'd ask breathlessly. I was tight around him, focused on how slow and sweet he was pumping in and out, twirling and wiggling his finger inside of me. His other hand slipping under my shirt, and his lips sucking gently at my neck, careful not to leave bruises.

"The orders, sweetheart," he'd gently remind me. "What's the next one?"

My lips would part, eyes fluttering shut as I tried to remember. His middle finger would pump out and then pump back in with the addition of his pointer finger, tearing a soft moan from my throat.

"Shh," he'd gently whisper. "We're at work."

He liked this little game. Ramping me up, forcing me to behave a certain way so to not tip off customers. If Peeta wouldn't immediately be arrested for it, something tells me he'd simply fuck me in the front room, bent over the register counter during business hours and just act like it's a normal thing. Such a sweet boy.

"I- ah- need to look at the book," I'd say. He'd roll my nipple between his two fingers, his other two fingers pumping slightly faster as his lips suck at the spot just under my ear.

"You have such a good memory though," he'd say. "You can remember. Just think."

That's a lie. I have a horrible memory and we both know it. But if I say I can't, he'll pull away. Sweet and gentle, he'll go get the book and place a million kisses on my cheek before leaving me to my work and dizziness.

Next order. Next order. That's easy. It's a tart with cream on top. Cream. God, I'd like his cock in my mouth right now.

"Next order. Come on, pretty girl. I know you know it," he'd softly encourage.

"I know it," I'd moan, my head tilted back and resting on his shoulder, fucking his fingers instead of working on the cake. He feels so good, so warm and protecting. Simply smelling the traces of dill and cinnamon baked into his skin made my mind shut off, my eyes growing tired from the feeling of safety.

"I know you know it," he'd say so sweetly. "You're smart, pretty. And you've got a delicious cunt I'd love to fuck over and over if I could," he'd say softly, placing warm kisses on my neck between each point. I was panting openly now, squeezing my eyes shut as I tried desperately to remember who ordered what.

His fingers curled inside of me, making rapid 'come hither' motions fast enough to steal a soft, sudden cry fron my lips. Peetas mouth found mine, swallowing my moans and giving me some of his own.

"I may have to count down, sweet girl," he'd warn me. His fingers had found my g spot, hitting and rubbing it at rapid speed. The cuff of his sweater is soaked from me, his hand sticky and coated. I shake my head quickly, moaning and gripping the counter as best I could to keep myself standing.

"I can remember," I whimpered. Peeta laughed softly.

"I know you can, sweet girl. But look at you, you're a total mess." His voice is sweet and kind, his eyes taking in my current state. "I can't have you all dumb back here during work hours."

He's sweet but he's cruel. God, he's cruel!

"I think there's berries in it," I stammered.

"Ten," he's start patiently, his teeth tugging at my earlobe.

"N-no, wait! There's- There's berries and there's..." I'm completely making this up. I have no clue what's next.

"Nine," he continued, knowing this.

"That's not fair, you started low on purpose!" I whined.

"Eight." He wouldn't argue. I was right.

"It's got- got cottage cheese frosting." I'm so close, so awfully close. I can feel myself clenching around him rapidly, my pussy swallowing his fingers quicker and quicker as I climbed closer towards the edge.

"Seven." Oh, God. This motherfucker.

"Six. Come on, good girl. You can do this," he'd encourage sweetly, kissing my cheek and trailing to my collarbone with said kisses.

"They wanted flowers on the top. Violets, I remember that!" That detail is actually true, surprisingly. The candy violets were always easy to remember because I loved them so much.

"Five." His other hand kneeded my breast, admiring the soft flesh and running his thumb over my stiff, aching nipple repeatedly. "Four."

"You're speeding up," I whined. "This isn't fair."

He let out a soft 'aw,' apologizing and speeding his hands to bring me closer to the edge.

"If you can come before one, I'll fuck you right here," he promised. "You can come before one, can't you?"

I nodded stupidly, moaning and panting as I sped up my hips, slamming down on his hand repeatedly. Cake details be damned, this is my mission now.

"Three." I'm so impossibly close.

"Two."

"Wait a minute, slow down-"

"One."

With one final, cruel, hard thrust of his hand he slips away, leaving me to almost crumple to the ground and opening my eyes to blink stupidly, trying to process what just happened.

"You okay?" He asked softly, his dry hand cupping my cheek and looking at me carefully with his sweet, hazel eyes.

A long, soft whine escaped me, batting my lashes as I lean against him and whisper as many 'please's as I can, pressing a dozen kisses all over him. He laughed softly, returning the kisses with whispered 'I love you's.

"Let me go get that book," he'd said. And that was that until that evening when he made up for it like he always did.

Now I was carefully removing a tiny apple pie made from leftovers meant specifically for Peeta. The rain was as bad as ever as I entered the front room, Peeta leaning on the palm of his hand while he struggled not to doze off. His long lashes flutter softly, his lips pressing against each other and his jaw a bit tight.

"Hi sleepyhead," I whisper, sneaking up behind him. He started a little, turning to look at me with the sweetest smile he has.

"Hi," he says cheerily, his voice just a touch gravely. His eyes glance down to the small treat in my hands, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Is that for me?"

"Of course it is," I say, placing it in front of him. "Figured you could use something to warm you up. It's freezing up here."

He chuckles. "It's not that cold," he says as he picks up the fork I'd placed next to the tiny pie and began scooping some up.

"Liar," I teased. "You're shivering."

He shifts in his seat slightly. "Not from that," he says, a small blush growing on his cheeks. He takes the first bite, then another, smiling and leaning his head against my shoulder.

"Thank you, dear," he says softly. He leans in for a kiss to which I happily oblige, cupping his jaw with my left hand. His lips taste sweet, the sticky apple and cinnamon tasting delicious on him. I swipe my tongue across his lips, stealing a soft moan from him as he allows my tongue access to his mouth, melting in my hands. His hand dropped the fork, accidently missing the pan and instead hitting the counter, but neither of us care. His hand comes up to the back of my neck, pulling me closer to silently ask me for more.

My other hand trails down to his lap, finding one of his hands already there, palming his stiff, clothed cock through his pants.

"Is this what you were doing when I came up?" I ask softly, pulling away from the kiss only a bit. He chases me, biting at my bottom lip to drag me back to him. That's a yes, then.

My tongue explores his warm mouth, tasting him while my hand traces the outline of his dick, pressing and flicking against the tip. He whines, bucking softly into my hand, desperate for more.

"Can you stay quiet?" I ask him, pulling away again. This time my hand on the back of his neck grabs his golden locks, holding him still as I look into his eyes. His cheeks are red as well as his lips, kiss swollen and damp. His breathing is heavy, his eyes blown out. Barely touched and already a beautiful mess.

"Huh?" He asks, his voice higher than usual as he tries to focus. His hand grasping my wrist, making sure to keep my hand where he can buck against it.

"If I asked you to, would you stay quiet?" I repeat gently, teasing him with kisses by leaning forward and pulling away. We both liked this.

"Yes," he said quickly. "Anything."

"Anything?" I ask, raising my brows.

"Anything."

Alright.

I press a quick, admittedly sloppy kiss to his lips once more before dropping to my knees and slipping under the counter. His brows furrow in confusion before he realizes what I'm doing.

"You can't!" He whispers frantically. "What if someone walks in?"

"That's why I asked if you could stay quiet," I say patiently. "Can you?"

He bites his lip, obviously unsure. His eyes dart between me and the shop door, thinking.

"We can wait," I offer genuinely. This seems to be the deciding factor.

"I'll be quiet," he promises eagerly. "I've got a pie I can shove in my mouth if I can't, right?" He jokes, his smile crooked and eager as his hands work quickly to begin freeing himself. He's excited alright.

"Right," I say, taking his hands away and undoing the buttons on his pants myself. "Just keep watch of the shop, alright sweet boy?" He nods, placing his arms on the counter and trying to resume his position.

I slip his cock from the confines of his clothes, pressing a soft wet kiss to the underside along a thick vein. A quiet whine escapes him, his hand covering his mouth. I'm not truly worried about him being quiet, no one is going to come in here during such bad weather. It's just an edge to help work him into a frenzy, knowing full well he never stays quiet. I'd thought I was vocal when we started our relationship, but Peeta easily takes the cake.

His cock is warm, half hard against my lips that trail his veins. My tongue slides from his tip to his base, barely any pressure on his skin. Grazing always works best to start out with. When I reach his base I lap at his skin, blowing soft, cold air against the wet spots to make him squirm in his chair. I focus on his base for a while, sucking, licking, blowing. Ever so gently I even bite just the tiniest bit, enough for him to notice the edges of my teeth along his red, pulsing cock. His voice is soft, panting quietly.

My tongue trails slowly up his cock, exploring different ridges and spots that make him whimper quietly, working my way back to his tip which is soaked with thick, warm precum. I wrap my lips around him, swiping the moisture away with my tongue in one round sweep. I relish in the cry it tears from his throat, the dozen little apologies he whimpers immediately after. His hand covers his mouth, and the other trails down to gently cup the back of my head. I smile around him, swirling my spit around his tip as I suck gently, pressing my tongue against the underside of his dick.

His fingers play with my hair, unintentionally tugging it and apologizing as he does. I simply squeeze his thighs and begin lowering myself, taking him until his tip hits the back of my throat, taking deep, even breaths to fight off the gags that threaten to escape me.

It's when my nose buries in his soft, curly hair at his base that the bell of the front door rings.

"Hi!" Peeta says a little too quickly, a little too brightly. "Welcome to Mellarks Bakery. How may we- I help you today?"

I'm frozen, his hand gripping my hair out of anxiety. If I pull away, we'll be done. If I stay here, Peeta may very well have to make good on his promise.

Although, acting has never been a challenge for him, has it?

The customer is describing a custom tart she wants made, then pulling out a long list and prattling about this, that, and the other thing. Her accent clearly shows her as a Capitol transfer, and these orders always take forever given that they still have a hard time releasing the concept of not over indulging. But this time I don't plan on complaining.

My tongue begins to move slowly, rubbing carefully along the bottom of his cock while I watch his face carefully. He's smiling at the woman who's still going down the list, his eyes glancing at me to confirm this is what we're doing. With a small nod from me, his hand casually covers his mouth once more and he resumes focus on the woman, his other hand now guiding my head slowly, carefully.

He pulls me to the tip of his dick, working me back and forth slowly on just that spot. My tongue works quickly, my lips wrapping around him tightly to help create proper suction around him while I suck.

"Do you have pumpkin?" The woman asks.

"W- what?" Peeta asks, clearing his throat. "Oh, pumpkin. I'll admit I'm running a little low, it's been a popular request since we don't grow them locally. I've requested more but I don't know if they'll be in in time, so if you want something that uses it you'll have to get it-" his voice cracks as I deepthroat him again, swallowing around him quickly before returning myself to his tip. He clears his throat. "You'll have to reserve it right now," he finishes. I can see him quickly scoop up some of the pie, shoving it in his mouth and trying to hide his blush. It's lucky for us how oblivious Capitol born citizens are.

His hand guides me faster, focusing on fucking his tip near the back of my throat since we both know full well how hitting the back of my throat isn't an option. We can't risk any noise gagging may cause since it may not be covered up by the soft music playing on the shop speakers, a gift from Beetee for the reopening.

His pace is fast, faster than it should be. He's close, smiling at the woman and acting as though everything is normal. His large vein throbs, precum spilling out of him with each new thrust into my mouth. My hand reaches to press two digits against the soft spot behind his balls, a sensitive spot that makes him cry and squirm.

His jaw tightens as I do this, his eyes darting down daggers quickly. I can hear coins on the counter, Peeta accepting the list and opening the register. With the loud 'clank' springing forth from the older device, he takes the chance to slam my face down fully on his cock, his fingers making the coins loudly shift around as he gives the customer her change. Tears spring to my eyes from the sudden force, swallowing around him as I focus on my breathing to recover. He promises the woman he'll do what he can and wishes her a good day, and she coos sweetly. She reaches across the counter, patting his cheek and calling him a sweet boy before turning and walking out of the bakery, the bell chiming at her exit.

Peeta looks down at me, smiling brightly. "Hi," he says with a newfound excitement.

I moan around his cock. He gets it.

"You okay?" He asks, his hands moving to cup my cheeks. I make an affirming noise, trying to smile. "I wasn't too rough, was I?" He asks, his thumbs swiping away the small tears dangling from my bottom lashes. I shake my head, swallowing around him. He moans softly, his grip tightening.

"Yeah, I kinda forgot you like it when I am, don't you?" He asks, beginning to slowly pump his dick in and out of the back of my throat. I moan happily, taking him as easily as I can.

"You know how hard it was not coming down your throat with that lady in here?" He asks. "I had to edge myself so that it wouldn't become known how much I like fucking your throat."

My cunt throbs at his words, his closeness making him willing to be more rough. He starts fucking my face in earnest, tearing noises from both of our throats as he loses himself.

"Can't do that again," he pants. "Next time I'm just taking you. I don't care who walks in." He's moaning openly now, his cock abusing me. I can feel him throbbing, twitching. There's enough precum it's all I can do to focus on swallowing and breathing.

"Show this whole District how much I love you," he babbles. "I'll eat you out on this fucking counter, I don't give a fuck."

I press my heel against my clit, grinding into it to relieve some friction as my hands steady my body against his thighs. The chair underneath of him creeks horribly. If anyone walked in now, I don't even think we'd have a small second to hide what we're doing.

"I love your fucking pussy," he rambles, his eyes beginning to flutter shut. "Love your fucking mouth. You take me so well. So eagerly."

I moan around him, spit dribbling from my mouth, hair stuck to my face. His balls slam against my chin, his wet curls pressing against my nose as he face fucks me like a rabid animal.

"I'm gonna cum down your throat," he announces. "Then you're gonna cum down mine. Again," thrust. "And again," thrust. "Until we don't even have to make dinner from how full we'll be." Goddamn, he's close.

His hands are rough, gripping my face. "Rub your tongue harder," he commands. I do, putting as much pressure as I can on his throbbing vein. He moans loudly, leaning forward and clutching my head.

"I'm coming," he pants, his voice high and tired. "Fuck, I'm coming-!"

His warm, thick load shoots down my throat, filling my mouth so much I cant breathe if I want to swallow it all.

"Such a sweet girl," he praises. "So sweet and good, eager to make me cum." His face is pressed against the cool counter, his chest heaving as he recovers his breath. His thumbs stroke my cheeks at different paces, small whimpers escaping him as I milk him dry with my mouth, making sure not a drop is left behind. When he's fully softened, I place a small kiss on his tip before tucking him back in, rebuttoning his clothes and patting his thighs one more time.

It takes a moment for me to rise, my joints stiff and my mind scrambled from the abuse it had just suffered. I stumble a little as I stand, Peeta's weak arms collecting my body and bringing me into a warm embrace.

"You're wonderful," he whispers, resting his head against my chest. I chuckle softly, placing a soft kiss on the top of his messy hair.

"So are you," I say.

He looks up at me, flushed and smiling at me with the most wonderful, lazy look on his face.

"Your turn," he says, finding a new wave of surprising strength and placing me on the counter.

"Peeta, we're still open," I giggle, batting his hands away.

"I know," he says. "Did you think I was joking?"

He stares at me, smiling and eager as he begins to part my legs.

This is going to be a long night.

•《♡》•

Whoever gets second place on the poll is who I'm writing next. Feel free to send in requests for characters/scenarios! See you next time, you degenerates <3

Masterlist

[ilguna]

Can you do prompt 11 from aisle 1 with peeta or finnick? Like reader or whoever u choose is almost killed in the games then they get yelled at n stuff🩷🙏

☼ bloody flowers (Peeta Mellark) ☼

warnings; swearing, death, death mention, blood, ehh gore, weapon use. peeta’s mean.

wc; 2.3k

prompt; 11. yelling at them because they thought they’d lose them.

notes; no katniss, roles for mockingjay are reversed.

—

“I’m going to try to tap a tree.” You tell Peeta and Finnick, breaking the silence.

Finnick is on his feet, slowly wading further into the saltwater, carefully rubbing it on his skin to ensure he’s got all the poison out. He barely looks over his shoulder to acknowledge what you’ve said, nodding. He’s having a hard time speaking, his throat is raw from the amount of fog he breathed in.

As you get to your feet, brushing the sand from your skin, Peeta looks over at you, eyebrows drawing in. “Let me make the hole first. You stay with him, you’re better friends.”

“That’s not…” You shake your head, but he’s heading into the jungle, knife in hand.

When you turn your head to look at Finnick—afraid that he’s heard what Peeta said—you can’t find him immediately. You shuffle forward in the sand, eyes searching the water. You spot him beneath the surface, easing your anxiety.

With that, you leave him be. You trust that he won’t accidentally drown himself, since he’s the best swimmer out of your group. And he’s going to need some time alone, after losing Mags to the fog in the jungle.

It was quick, you didn’t even have time to intervene. Finnick saw that you were struggling to carry Mags down the slope, after the two of you had switched, because Peeta was entirely too heavy to be leaning on you for support. In the brief break you took to regain your strength, Mags kissed Finnick goodbye and walked straight into the fog.

What happened didn’t register until Finnick was pulling you to your feet, ordering you to grab one side of Peeta, so the two of you could work together. You don’t have to say anything to Finnick to know that he’s hurt, the look on his face alone is a dead giveaway.

You find your melted jumpsuit strewn in the sand, alongside Finnicks and Peetas. It had been ripped off of you by Peeta, who was so desperate to get you in the water, that he’d forgotten how much it’d hurt being submerged. It could’ve been worse, you weren’t covered in nearly as much of the fog as Finnick had been.

You crouch next to Peeta’s suit, flipping it over to find the mockingjay pin still holding on tightly. You unhook it from his clothes, and move to pin it to the front of your undershirt to hold onto it for him. You then reach to touch the gold necklace to make sure that it’s still hanging around your neck.

The floatation belts seem to have not been affected by the fog at all. They look brand new, actually. You pull it around your waist, buckling it back on. As much as you’d wish to leave it, you’re not the best swimmer in the alliance. Peeta and Finnick are far better, which is why they’ll feel comfortable enough to leave theirs behind.

You stand again, stretching your arms above your head, feeling the soreness throughout your body. And then, you reach to pull the hair tie out to let your hair down, which has been severely damaged by the fog. Barely touching it, clumps come out, stuck between your fingers. The sight is only slightly nauseating. You comb your hair the best you can, watching as the collection grows. When it seems to have slowed, you pull your hair back into a ponytail, and fling the dead hair into the trees.

Speaking of which, Peeta’s found a good one ten yards in from the beach. You can hardly see him through the trees, but the sound of him drilling is unmistakable. You keep an eye on him the best you can, but Finnick splashing around is distracting.

He stretches, slowly, testing his limbs to see if they’re working properly. Gradually, he begins to swim, which is mesmerizing to watch. It’s nothing like the way you were taught to. There’s a rhythm, a pace. He dives, surfaces, rolls like a log of wood in water. He sprays from his mouth, and then he’ll sit underwater for minutes at a time.

When he finally comes back up, he looks better than he did earlier. He pushes his hair out of his face, walking in your direction.

You offer him a smile, “Feeling better?”

“Considerably.” He says, eyes finding the pin on your tank top. He touches it, squinting slightly. “Left the token, huh?”

“He knew I’d grab it.” You wave him off. “Let’s go help him, he’s going to need the spile.”

Finnick leads the way into the jungle, you follow behind him, fiddling with the necklace. He holds the trident to his side, the pole bouncing off his thigh when he takes steps too hard. You briefly look away to pop the locket clasp open, suddenly afraid that the fog might’ve damaged the delicate photos inside. You slam straight into Finnick’s back, having to catch yourself on his shoulder.

A question raises on your tongue, but he presses a finger against his lips to keep you quiet. He looks upward, into the branches that belong to the trees that hang above you lowly. You follow his gaze curiously, and your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of what’s been watching you.

You press your lips together, your left hand falling from your necklace, and your right readjusting the sword in your hand. There’s a mass of orange monkeys weighing down the branches. More than just five or ten, there’s easily two dozen, sitting there, waiting for one wrong move.

This isn’t the first time you’ve seen them. There was a pair of them right after you’d escaped the fog, Peeta had pointed them out. Those ones retreated, not wanting anything to do with the three of you. These ones don’t have any intentions on leaving.

“Peeta,” Your voice wavers slightly, Finnick glances at you. You take a breath, “I need your help with something on the beach.”

“Just a minute (Y/n). I think I’ve just about got it.” He tells you, still occupied with the tree. “Have you got the spile?”

“I do, but we’ve found something you might want to see.” You murmur, noticing how the monkeys are reacting to Peeta’s movements. They don’t care if you move. “Only move toward us quietly, so you don’t startle it.”

“I don’t want to lose the tree.”

“We won’t, we’ll be right back.” You tell him, motioning for him to come toward you.

He lets out a sigh, but listens. You chew on the inside of your cheek, listening to the noise he’s making. Still, the monkeys don’t move, because that’s not what causes them to be aggressive. He’s only five yards from the beach, when his movements become stiff, eyes darting up for a second.

It’s enough. The shrieking begins, as the monkeys all begin to move at an impossible speed to jump at him. They slide down vines, leaping large distances, fangs bared, claws shooting out. One word comes to mind.

“Mutts!” You snap, shoving past Finnick to get to Peeta.

You swing the sword carelessly, hitting the vital parts of the monkeys the best you can with the amount flying out of the trees. When you make it to Peeta, the two of you switch weapons, him slapping the knife into your hand for you to take so he can begin to do real damage with the sword.

Peeta’s got a better technique, bringing down almost as much as Finnick is with the trident. He’ll spear the mutts, and then fling them aside, off into the trees. The three of you form a triangle formation, trying to kill them efficiently. Only, you can’t keep up with your knife, they’re forced to cover you.

You feel a pair of teeth sink into your thigh before Peeta’s slicing through the throat, forcing the jaws to unhinge. The air grows heavy, from the trampled plants, the scent of blood, and the musty stink of the monkey mutts that hound you.

Peeta swings at one of them, and instead of landing the hit, the monkey secures the sword, and throws it into the trees, permanently making it out of the question. Then, it grabs a tight hold of Peeta’s arm, and swings him out of the formation, in the open. Where another monkey spots this, sprinting for the kill.

You begin to run for him, throwing the knife at the mutt that’s racing you. The mutt manages to dodge the attack, and you’re about to throw yourself at Peeta to save him, when someone else beats you to it, first. A woman materializes out of a tree, screaming loudly as she throws herself into the monkey, arms wrapping around its body.

It sinks its fangs into her chest.

Finnick’s trident hits the monkey with such force that it makes a loud squelching sound when the trident collides with its body. The mutt releases its jaw, Peeta kicking the body off.

“Come on, then!” Peeta shouts. “Come on!”

The mutts don’t seem to be interested anymore, retreating into the trees the same way they had done before. You reach to grab Peeta, hands shaking, when he suddenly points toward the beach, eyes hard.

“Go.”

Your mouth pops open, eyebrows drawing in, but you don’t argue, walking the five yards out of the jungle, onto the beach. The two boys follow behind you, with Finnick carrying the woman, who you’re able to recognize as the morphling from District Six, when you get a good look at her.

Finnick lays her in the sound, and Peeta follows behind him with your knife. He kneels next to her, cutting open the wetsuit that covers her chest, revealing the four deep wounds. Her blood is slowly emerging out of them, staining her skin. You’d say she’s fine, if it weren’t for the damage the monkeys did inside of her body.

She’s gasping for air, struggling to breathe. This could mean a punctured lung, maybe even her heart. Her skin is shaded a sickly green, sagging to reveal each one of her ribs. This is caused by years of abusing the pain medication.

She takes your hand shakily, squeezing tightly to ground herself. You lean over her, moving the hair out of her face.

“I’ll watch the trees.” Finnick says before walking away.

Peeta settles in the sand, voice soft, “With my paint box at home, I can make every color imaginable. Pink. As pale as a baby’s skin. Or as deep as rhubarb. Green like spring grass. Blue that shimmers like ice on water.”

She stares at Peeta, hanging on to every word.

“One time, I spent three days mixing paint until I found the right shade for sunlight on white fur. You see, I kept thinking it was yellow, but it was much more than that. Layers of all sorts of color. One by one.”

Her breathing is growing shallow, calming, dying. Her free hand dips into the wound on her chest, touching the blood as she swirls it on her skin, the same way she had in the Training Center.

“I haven’t figured out a rainbow yet. They come so quickly and leave so soon. I never have enough time to capture them. Just a bit of blue here or purple there. And then they fade away again. Back into the air.”

She lifts up the bloodied hand, painting a flower on Peeta’s cheek.

“Thank you,” He whispers. “That looks beautiful.”

Her face lights up, as she makes a small squeaking sound. And then her hand falls back onto her chest, giving out her last huff of air. The cannon fires. Her hand loosens in yours.

You sit there in the sand, watching as Peeta carries her into the water, carefully settling her on her back. She floats toward the Cornucopia, and when the Gamemakers are sure she’s a good distance away, the hovercraft appears to take her away. The claw drops, carrying her into the night sky, and she’s gone.

You get to your feet when Peeta comes back your way, but with the look on his face, you’re not exactly eager to touch him.

“What were you thinking?” He asks you. “Running at me like that. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

Your mouth opens as you shake your head. “I—the mutt was coming right for you, I thought—”

“You thought what, (Y/n)? You were going to kill it with this?” He asks, holding your knife out for you to see. It’s stained red, sand sticking to the blood that refuses to dry. “Oh no, that’s right, you threw it at the mutt.”

You stare at him. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“No, not okay!” he shouts. “Were you even thinking?”

“I just—”

“I don’t need you trying to be the hero.” He tells you. “I had it handled.”

“I’m sorry, Peeta.”

“Don’t do it again.” He says, shaking his head. “It’s hard enough keeping you safe when you’re not running into danger. So don’t start doing it on purpose.”

“I won’t.”

He looks over your face, judging whether or not you’re being truthful, when his eyes dip toward your chest. His face smooths, holding his hand out, palm up. “Give me the pin.”

Wordlessly, you unhook it from the cloth and place it in his hand. “I didn’t want to lose it.”

“That’s fine.” He says, closing the distance between the two of you. He directs your chin up carefully, raising his eyebrows. “You know I love you.”

“I know.” You whisper. “I’ll be more careful.”

He presses a kiss to the middle of your forehead. “That’s all I ask.”

—

this is part of my 3k celebration!! you can join until the cure is released on October 31st, at midnight!! everyone is welcome to join :)

[milkywaygalaxygurl]

Sleepy - Peeta Mellark

another self indulgent fic lol, i had a dream like this and wanted to write about it. sorry it’s so short, i honestly struggled a little with writing it:’)

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Female!Reader

Warnings: none this is just pure fluff

Word count: 400

Peeta loves that you nap so much and that your reaction is always the same whenever you wake up and see him<3

The first time it happened, Peeta had come back inside from gardening and found the house silent. He knew you were probably asleep because you had complained about not getting enough sleep the night before and not feeling well, so he tried to be as quiet as possible as he took his shoes off at the door. He figured you would be in the bedroom, but as he walked into the living room he caught sight of you curled up on the couch. He smiles to himself, taking a second to admire your peaceful expression.

As if sensing his presence, you open your eyes slowly. The second you see Peeta, a sleepy grin spreads across your face as you stick your arms out from under the blanket. He chuckles when you make grabby hands at him, much like a child who wants picked up would do. He doesn’t hesitate to come lay down with you, wrapping you up in his arms.

“You’re so warm.” You mumble into his shoulder, nuzzling your face into his shirt and tightening your hold on him. He hums in acknowledgement, but doesn’t say anything in return. He just looks down at you instead, studying your side profile like it’s the most beautiful work of art he’s ever seen.

It became a normal occurrence after that. Every single time you woke up and he wasn’t already next to you, you’d make grabby hands at him and he’d come lay with you. Peeta swore he could feel himself fall even more in love with you every time it happened.

He had once asked you why you did it and you shrugged, a small smile on your face. “You’re always my first thought when I wake up and I just wanna hold you.” You had said it so nonchalantly, not even aware how much of an effect those words had on Peeta’s heart. It made his heart feel warm, the fact that he was the first thing you reached for if he wasn’t already close to you.

Peeta always wondered how he had gotten so lucky, it regularly bewildered him that he had managed to get you to be his girlfriend. He often couldn’t believe that you loved him just as much as he did you. Moments like that, where you just so casually said something that meant everything to Peeta, were his reminders that you truly do love him.

[ervotica]

18+, nsfw, p in v, overstim, dacryphilia, praise, dom!peeta + sub!r

hunger games masterlist

Peeta that softly overstimulates you.

He’s so gentle with it, all soft praise and kind words of encouragement that juxtapose with the way his cock is splitting you open, pulling everything you have to offer him out of your already spent body.

“Attagirl,” he murmurs. “You’re gonna give me another one, okay?”

You can only quiver and sob in response, your arms clamped firmly around his bare torso as he fucks down into you. Your cunt squelches with the juices that coat him and you, his blonde curls tickling at your clit until, so gently, he’s coaxing another orgasm from you.

You go tight and rigid, legs trembling around his own; and when he reaches down to press a calloused thumb to your sore clit, you cry. Big tears, face buried in the crook of Peeta’s elbow, you let everything go.

Giving yourself wholly to him.

“There’s my girl,” he coos. His face comes down to rest against your own, his lips pressing chaste kisses to your cheeks and forehead.

“Peeta,” you sniffle, clinging white-knuckled to him. “‘S too much.”

“You can do it. You’ve done it before, haven’t you? Just one more.”

You’d never deny him, not really. You whine and complain but Peeta knows you trust him to take you as far as you can go— to push your boundaries and then some. So you nod as he swipes your tears away with his thumb and forefinger.

He resumes plunging himself into your velvet heat, his lips on your jaw as he pistons rhythmically in and out. Your face turns to rub against his forearm as your body shakes and bends to his every whim.

His thick fingers once again travel down, down to thumb at your clit, to roll and pinch and play with it until you’re gasping and clutching his arm in response.

“Come on, let go,” he mumbles, fucking up into you once more before you’re engulfed in white-hot pleasure.

Sometimes he feels guilty for how far he pushes you, but when he sees your face - eyes half lidded, a dopey, fucked out smile on your lips as you cling to him - he doesn’t feel too bad at all.

[ceruleansx]

need | peeta mellark

↳ peeta mellark x reader

↳ warnings - tooth rooting fluff

↳ summary - you were extra cuddly and craving to give kisses to your bf peeta

------------------------------------------------------------

you woke up with your back towards peeta, the sunlight splayed on your face. you opened your eyes slowly, seeing the sun just setting. the shade of orange was peeta's favorite color.

you turned to him because you wanted to tell him to look at the sunrise.

he was facing you, eyes still closed. he looked so pretty in the presence of the sun. it made the blonde hair covering his face more beautiful, something that you thought was impossible.

the beauty that peeta had almost seemed like he wasn't real.

you moved his hair from his forehead, and gave him a loving kiss. his nose scrunched up and he squinted his eyes.

"mmmm." he mumbled.

you shook his arm. "look peeta, the sunrise." you whispered.

he looked away from you and looked at the sky.

"wow..."

"it's beautiful isn't it?" you said softly, admiring the different shades.

"the most beautiful thing i've ever seen." you turned your head at him.

he was looking at you as he said that. you felt your cheeks burn with redness, and you look back to try and hide it.

"i can see why this color is your favorite, it's so pretty."

"you wanna know why it is?" he said, and you layed down to face him.

"why?" you smiled, still a blush on your face.

he looked at you so lovingly, like you were the only person he wanted to kiss and love forever. no one else.

"cause it reminds me of you.." he whispered, as he brushed a strand of your hair behind you ear.

the butterflies erupted in your stomach, and you went to cuddle on top of him. his arms were now around your waist as you nuzzled your face in his neck.

you gave sloppy kisses on his neck as he rubbed your back.

"i love you peeta.." you mumbled into his neck, mid-kiss.

"show me how much you love me." you could practically hear the blush creeping on his face.

you removed your head from his neck and looked at him.

"wellll" you brushed his hair away from his forehead.

"i love your smart ideas and mind."

you gave a tender kiss to his forehead.

"i love how kind and caring you are."

you kissed his nose.

"i love how patient and loving you are, after every situation or fight."

you kissed his cheek.

you finally kissed his soft lips. "and i love that your mine." you whispered against his lips.

he kissed you this time, much longer than expected. he pulled away, trying to hide his smile. his face was as red as a tomato.

"your not shy with the kisses this morning." he blushed.

you didn't make a comment, just stared at his beautiful face. he did too, thinking that he basically hit the jackpot with being with you. he was going to marry you one day, he knew it.

"so you love me..?" he asked.

you rolled your eyes playfully. "no i totally just kissed someone that i don't love."

he chuckled and you smiled. "of course i love you peeta, only you. and no one else."

oh, how you can make peeta blush like a 9 year old. he kissed you once more before talking.

"i love you too y/n, and i'm going to marry you one day."

you were so in love, you didn't have a reaction.

"i would love to marry you peeta mellark."

after that, you layed on top him, just the two of you watching the sunset. you two were just both imagining your future kids, happily married, and loving each other for eternity.

[l5byrinth]

okay y’all i rewatched the hunger games in like a really long time and my feelings for both peeta and finnick have resurfaced (just like i do on here every few months)

but i suddenly got sm motivation to write for them so my reqs are open for these two!!

i mean just look at them 🙏🙏

[sammy-halpert]

"I can help you"

Author note: Don't expect anything awesome, it's my first smut, and in general one-shot✋ ALSO I am not writing this about Josh Hutcherson, this is a fictional character and I will NOT accept requests based on actual people WARNINGS:Degrading, P in V, mentions of alcohol (Haymitch), breeding, slight choking, bit of overstimulation

There you are again. The night before the 75th hunger games. You and Haymitch have been reaped, but Peeta voulenteered so now he's there instead of Haymitch. You hated President Snow with every inch of your body, him putting you both into a arena to fight for your lifes for entertainment, and Peeta definitely didn't feel any different.

It's the night after the interview where Peeta claimed that you are pregnant, both of you in your room, Peeta on your bed and you resting by his side, head on his chest as you both are silent, lost in own thoughts. His thumb is strocking your arm as he was just rummaging in his memories, before he softly chuckles.

"What's so funny?" You ask, smiling, chuckling a bit aswell, looking at him to see him already looking at you.

"I should've asked you before saying you're pregnant." he let's out another, more apologetic laugh.

"We both know you're not that good of an actress, so it might be difficult for you to act a month or less pregnant. I have no idea on how women behave in their first pregnancy month"

You groan, chuckling, turning a bit away. "Well, I don't know either, because as far as I remember I have never been pregnant before."

Peeta laughs a little aswell, pulling you closer and looking forward at the wall, thinking a bit, before smirking and looking down at you.

"I can help you" he locked eye contact with you, the smug smirk on his face, the flirty tone and that glimmer in his eyes already tell you, that this might lead to not so 'just friend' ways. You decide to ignore it first and ignore your dirty mind.

"And how will you do that?" You huff, not fully aware of his hand traveling up your thigh as your mind races with dirty answers.

Suddenly, he pins you down and smirks down at you. "Don't play dumb. You know exactly where this is going, honey" This made you blush, turning your face away from him since you're a little flustered. His gently and strong hand grabs your chin and makes you look back at him. "Don't hide that pretty face of yours, darling" He almost sits down on you as he grabs your cheeks with his hands before his lips met yours.

His lips tasted sweet, like buttercream and fruit which was probably from tasting the buttercream at the bakery before continuing to work with it. The kiss was soft and passionate, the lust of Peeta making it a little aggressive. Soft grunts escape his lips as they moved against yours, hand trailing up to play with your hair before he pulled away, already panting.

"For someone as hot as you I'm surprised you're new to kissing" He chuckles. He had clearly noiticed the nervous little stops you did during the kiss, as you've never really had a first kiss before except for the ones on TV. (KEPT IT LOYAL FOR THE BAKER BOY 🤭🤭)

You roll your eyes. "Oh come on" You chuckle and start to take his top off. "Eager little slut." That threw you off a little. The cute and innocent Baker boy is calling you a slut? He chuckled and removed his top, the hint of abs outlined by the moonlight. Now that his shirt was gone, the tent in his sweatpants was as clear as day.

"Eyes up here" He said sternly, even though he wasn't actually mad at you, just feeling quite dominant. Your eyes met his and he smirked. "Good girl" he praised quietly before starting to kiss your neck and slowly undress you

This was all very surprising to you, how the cute little innocent Peeta gets so dominant in bed. You did kinda expect it, but also not. Your thoughts were quickly interrupted as you feel his hard press against your knee, as he looked at you.

"Can I?" He looked you into the eyes, his fingers softly tugging on your bra. You smile, glad he still asks for consent."Go on" you smile and he strips you completely nacked. He almost drooled at your exposed and wet pussy. "You're driving me crazy.. " he says under his breath before diving right in, his hands resting on the insides of your thighs as he licks down to up in long and slow strokes, licking of your juices.

Soft whimpers escape your mouth and both hands grip onto his hair, head falling onto the pillows. "Fuck- Peeta~" You moan out as he starts to mouth fuck you. You feel a finger enter your tight hole and slowly stretch you out.

"Holy fuck are you tight. Not a single drop is gonna leak" he says breathy, plunging a second finger in as the free hand starts to play with your nipple. You moan and grab the sheets, already feeling close to cumming. The third finger gets added and you feel your orgasm approaching.

"Peeta, I'm close-" Before you finish he pulls completely away from you, making you open your eyes to a beautiful sight between your legs. Peeta on his knees, sucking your juice off his fingers and untying his sweatpants. He was panting a little, standing up from the bed to properly take off his sweatpants and he saw how you stare at the bulge in his boxers.

He took them off aswell and his cock was around five and a half inches. It's average for a 5'7 guy like Peeta. It was veiny, fucking juicy, the drool already worming in your mouth.

A short whistle caught you out of your trance. "Can't really take your eyes of it, can you?" He smirks and goes back on the bed, pinning you down. "How do you want it? Hm?" He asks.

You were a little puzzled. "What..?" He put a gentle hand on your chin. "What position, darling." You blushed a little and since you aren't really experienced you mutter a "Choose one." he smirked and got you both into a missionary position. "Is this comfortable?" he asks and places a gentle kiss under your ear.

It sent a soft shudder down your spine and you nod. He strokes his cock a little to get himself a little hornier, grunting until precum starts to leak and he positions himself against your hole. Before he puts it in he looks at you, looking for a sign of discomfort. "What's your save word?" he asks innocently. "Uhh.. It'll be 'stop'" you say, putting your hands on his shoulders.

He nods "Good choice" he smirks. Slowly he starts to push in, his head falling back as you both moan loudly. The stretch was deliciously painful, you can feel each single of his veins as he slowly pushed in. He was cursing under his breath, and gave you time to adjust. Before he could ask if he is allowed to move, you already ask him to. "Move, please. Peeta"

Slowly he pulled halfway out before pushing back in, moaning, his hands resting on your hips as you hold onto his arms, moaning aswell. Your mind went down to where his cock was currently buried inside you, and you couldn't think of anything else. His lips crash with yours as he slowly starts to speed up, his fingers now playing with your nipples. He was softly grunting and sighing into the kiss, the pleasure making him less dominant before he was inside of you, the pleasure making cute and innocent Peeta more submissive.

A hand wraps around your neck but doesn't press down. His hips speed up and he pulls away from the kiss. “So tightt.. please oh fuck- taking me so good sweetheart …” he mumbles under his breath, eyes shut, hitting your g-spot.

It makes you yelp and moan out even louder, the pleasure so overwhelming your eyes almost roll into the back of your head.

"Oh fuck, please- right there" you moan out and he chuckles, grunting and moaning softly. "Such a slut.. I'm gonna breed you so hard- fuck, make you full of my babies"

".. s’fucking good.. you take me so well…” he can hardly breathe when he hits a spot in you that is the most pleasurable for him. Peeta feels his cock twitch inside you, and judging by how you moan loudly and clench around him, you're close.

"Gonna cum for me? Hm? My little slut- fuck." he says, breathy, and you nod, you both already sweating. His hand is still around you neck without any pressure.

"Cum for me darling, y'were such a good girl for me hah~" he moans out as he feels you clenching around him. Your moans are music to his ears as you cum around him, moaning out his name and eyes roll back into your head. Fucking gorgeous sight.

He keeps trusting but his thrusts get irregular. Then he whines. WHINES. INTO YOUR EAR. "Gonna breed you, make you mine- hah~"He keeps trusting but his thrusts get irregular. Then he whines. WHINES. INTO YOUR EAR. "Gonna breed you, make you mine- hah~

Your moans from overstimulation were soon over as he came into you, his warm and sticky seeds filling your womb.

<><Next morning><>

It was time to go to the training center one last time before the games start. You were already in the elevator, waiting for Peeta to join as he was suddenly stopped by Haymitch, drinking alcohol like usual. He whispers to Peeta without you hearing. "You should work on a child once you're out of here, not while you're here." Then he let's Peeta's back and let's him into the elevator with you.

"What did he say?"

"For you to keep quiet next time" He chuckled and kissed you, loving to tease you.

Taglist:

@ogelizasoot

[pixiexdusts-world]

Incorrect quote

Finnick, negotiating with Y/n: We have Peeta, give us ten thousand dollars and then he will be returned to you unharmed.

Peeta: Woah, woah, wait, you think I’m only worth ten thousand dollars?

Finnick: …

Peeta: MAKE IT ONE MILLION-

Finnick: PEETA STOP

[seduzist]

can I please request a blurb of what if the roles were reversed during Mockingjay PT 1 and 2 where the reader was taken by the Capitol instead of Peeta and when the reader is rescued, they are hijacked to be afraid of Peeta? I would imagine Peeta would try his best to help the reader remember what’s “real” or not real and be incredibly patient during this process :) tysm

you looked at the boring looking food on your lap, no much colors and not very appealing like the ones in capitol, but still much better than no food at all.

when you were about to eat - with the one arm that wasn’t tied up to the hospital bed, you heard the door opening, immediately turning the attention mode inside you, looking directly at the door, trying to be ready for any possible danger, but how could you, tied up to a hospital bed like a criminal?

peeta comes in, pain in his eyes watching your state, deep eyes, with so many pounds lost, black and purple bruises all over your body, dry lips and a scared expression on your face, it almost made him cry, but the boy keeps his composure and took a deep breath, coming closer to you.

your whole body entered the full defensive mode, and of course peeta noticed that, even though he couldn’t believe when katniss and haymitch told him snow turned you in a weapon, that he changed everything you knew about peeta, about your love for him, that you were confused and scared, that you were supposed to fear him, to kill him, now, he knew deep inside that was very possible for capitol to do such a cruel thing.

“y/n…” he whispers, feeling his own voice fail.

“i don’t want you here, who sent you here?” your voice sounded harsh, confident, threatened.

“i… i just wanna talk to you, i’ll be quick, i promise you.” everything he say is a lie. you told yourself. a lie can’t hurt me. you let him proceed. “i know what happened, i know what they said, that i don’t love you, that i’m the monster.” tears threatened to fall from his eyes as he spoke. manipulator. “but i’m not, you-you don’t remember but i love you, and you love me too, y/n.” he stops for a moment, waiting for you to say anything, but nothing comes out your mouth, your expression doesn’t even change a bit. he sighs. “it’s okay, i just wanted you to know that i’m not giving up on you, i’ll help you remember everything, and i know that you’ll love me again. you’ll remember what’s real or not.”

when he was about to leave, trying his best to stop his tears from flowing down, he heard your small voice.

“your favorite color is orange.” he looks at you, a smile starting to form on his lips. “real or not real?”

“real.”

[rosiecqtt]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Summary; Your back in the capital for the 75 annual Hunger Games waiting for the opening parade ceremony to begin when one of the victors, namely the male from four, comes over to talk to you which sparks certain emotions in Peeta.

Notes; Okay so I’m thinking of maybe perhaps writing a rewrite fic for the Hunger Games because, like a lot of others, I am once again in my Peeta Mellark phase. This is a little snippet from that said potential fic. Read it and let me know if you’d be interested in more? Let me know if you think its lacking anything or has too much, any feed back would be great. 

Word Count; 3.3k

Warnings; It is the Hunger games, so mentions of violence and death. It gets a little spicy at the very end, Kissing and hickeys mostly.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The last several days had seemed like a blur, and now here I was. Back in the capital dressed in an elegant costume waiting to be paraded for all of Panem to see, literally. Cinna had walked me to the elevator, but he had more things to attend to before it started so he had left me to travel down alone.

The elevator all too quickly arrived at the ground floor of the Remake Center, which houses the huge gathering place for the tributes and their chariots before the opening ceremonies. I'm hoping to find Peeta or Haymitch, or both, but they haven't arrived yet. So I once again find myself alone.

Unlike last year, when all the tributes were practically glued to their chariots, the scene is very social. The victors, both this year's tributes and their mentors, are standing around in small groups, talking. 

Of course, they all know one another and I don't know anyone, and I'm not really the sort of person to go around introducing myself. Back in twelve, I was often teased in school for not being more social, but eventually, I grew to not mind so much. 

 Instead of mingling and trying to find allies, I just stroke the neck of one of my horses and try not to be noticed. 

It doesn't work.

 The crunching hits my ear before I even know he's beside me, and when I turn my head, Finnick Odair's famous sea-green eyes are only inches from mine. He pops a sugar cube in his mouth and leans against my horse.

 “Hello, Y/n,” he says, as if we've known each other for years, when in fact we've never met. 

“Hello, Finnick,” I say, just as casually, although I'm feeling uncomfortable at his closeness, especially since he's got so much bare skin exposed.

 “Want a sugar cube?” he says, offering his hand, which is piled high. 

“They're supposed to be for the horses, but who cares? They've got years to eat sugar, whereas you and I ... well, if we see something sweet, we better grab it quick.” he says with a flirty wink.

Finnick Odair is something of a living legend in Panem. He won the Sixty-fifth Hunger Games when he was only fourteen. So besides Peeta and I, he is one of the youngest victors. He was from district four and was a Career, so the odds of him winning again, were in his favor. I had to admit that he certainly was extraordinarily beautiful. He was very tall, probably six foot two. He has a very athletic build, with golden skin and bronze-colored hair, and those incredible eyes.

I find it hard to form an argument against how beautiful he is. But I can honestly say he's never been someone I would want to be with. Maybe he's too pretty, or maybe he's too easy to get, or maybe it's really that he'd just be too easy to lose.

 “No, thanks,” I finally say, refusing his offer of the sugar. 

“I'd love to borrow your outfit sometime, though,” I say attempting to tease him as my eyes scan his elaborate outfit. 

He's draped in a golden net that's strategically knotted at his groin so that he can't technically be called naked, but he's about as close as you can get. I'm sure his stylist thinks the more of Finnick the audience sees, the better. 

“And you're absolutely terrifying me in that getup. What happened to the pretty little-girl dresses?” he asks. He wets his lips just ever so slightly with his tongue. Probably this drives most people crazy, and I can’t deny that it didn’t raise a blush to my cheeks.

 “I outgrew them,” I say simply looking back at the horses. 

Finnick leans closer to me and takes the collar of my outfit and runs it between his fingers. I look up at his face my eyes watching him closely, trying to calculate his next move.

“It's too bad about this Quell thing. You could have made out like a bandit in the Capitol. Jewels, money, anything you wanted.”

 “I-I don't like jewels, and I have more money than I need.” I stutter out flustered at his close proximity.

I clear my throat and take a step back “What do you spend all yours on, anyway, Finnick?” I say. 

“Oh, I haven't dealt in anything as common as money for years,” says Finnick.

 “Then how do they pay you for the pleasure of your company?” I ask, genuine curiosity seeping into my voice. 

 “With secrets,” he says softly with a charming smirk. He tips his head in so his lips are almost in contact with mine and my face grows hot. 

“What about you, girl on fire? Do you have any secrets worth my time?”.

 “No, I, uh I’m an open book,” I whisper back. “Everybody seems to know my secrets before I know them myself.” I lie hoping he will back off. He smiles. 

“Unfortunately, I think that's true.” His eyes flicker off to the side and I find myself letting out a breath.

 “Peeta is coming. Sorry, you have to cancel your wedding. I know how devastating that must be for you.” He tosses another sugar cube in his mouth and saunters off as anger fills my chest.

 ‘How dare he’. I think bitterly to myself. Did everyone truly think that I was simply faking my love and adoration for Peeta? Did I really come across like I was some horrible bitch using Peeta to make myself look good? A wave of sadness washed over me and I started to question if maybe everyone is right. 

 Peeta's walking up beside me snapped me out of my thoughts. He’s dressed in an outfit identical to mine and my blush returns full force as my eyes scan his body.

 “What did Finnick Odair want?” he asks, a strange tone to his voice. I turn to face him, a frown evident on my face.

 “He offered me sugar and wanted to know all my secrets,” I say.

 Peeta laughs. “Ugh. Not really.” 

“Really,” I say with an anxious laugh.

Peeta hums in response, watching as Finnick walks up to some other victor he seemed to know. He clenched his jaw tightly and looked back over to me. I thought it was strange but chose to not comment on it as the parade music began signaling for everyone to mount their chariots. 

“Shall we?” He says turning to me and stretching out a hand to help me into the chariot. 

I smile and gratefully accept it, climbing up and pulling him up after me. “Hold still,” I say, as I reach up to straighten his crown. He smiles down at me, and I return it glad that I don’t have to be here alone.

“Have you seen your suit turned on?” I ask him as I step back to make sure the crown is perfectly straight. “We're going to be fabulous again.”, I said teasingly, mocking the strange capital accent.

 “Absolutely we are”, he said with the same one. “But Portia says we're to be very above it all. No waving or anything,” he says more seriously. I nod, Cinna having said something similar.

“Where are they, anyway?” I asked eyeing the other chariots, they had set our costumes ablaze at last year's chariot ride but they were nowhere to be found.

“Maybe we better go ahead and switch ourselves on,” Peeta suggests noticing the panic growing on my face. 

So we do, and as we begin to glow, I can see people pointing at us and chattering, and I know that like last year we are going to be the talk of the opening ceremonies.

 When we’re almost out the door I crane my head around once again looking for them, but neither Portia nor Cinna, are anywhere in sight. 

With a frown, I look up into Peeta’s blue eyes that no amount of dramatic makeup can make truly deadly, and remember how, just a year ago, I thought he was prepared to kill me. I spent most of my entire time running away from him during the game, when in the end he was pretending to hate me all along so that he could protect me, which then created our start-crossed lover's story. I smile at him warmly and grab his hand without a second thought.

 We will go into this as one this time.

The voice of the crowd rises into one universal scream as we roll into the fading evening light, but neither one of us reacts. 

I simply fix my eyes on a point far in the distance and pretend there is no audience, no hysteria. But I can't stop myself from catching glimpses of us on the huge screens along the route, and we are not just beautiful, we are dark and powerful.

 We are the star-crossed lovers from District 12, who suffered so much and enjoyed so little of the rewards of our victory. We do not seek the fans' favor, grace them with our smiles, or catch their kisses. 

We are unforgiving. And I love it. Last year I craved the attention of the audience, knowing deep down that they loved Peeta more than me. I was desperate to gain the fan's attention in order to save myself. But not this time. This time I don’t care because I know I won’t win, nor do I care if they want me to. Peeta is the one who should have more fans. This time he will be the only one going home in the end. 

As we curve around the loop I hold Peeta’s hand tighter. I try to keep my gaze forward, not wanting to meet the faces of the other tributes, but I find it hard to not glance at all the others in front of us. Thankfully the ride goes by quickly and soon I find myself back in the training center but I dare not move until the doors close behind us. It seems Peeta thought the same thing because as the doors do finally close we both let out a long breath. 

Not letting go of my hand Peeta helps me off the chariot then jumps down beside me and together we walk towards our newly appeared stylists. Cinna and Porta are waiting on the far end of the room seeming very pleased with our display during our ride.

Haymitch has made an appearance as well, only he's not standing with them, he's over with the tributes of District 11. I see him nod in our direction and then they follow him over to greet us. 

I know Chaff by sight because I've spent years watching him pass a bottle back and forth with Haymitch on television. He's dark skinned, about six feet tall, and one of his arms ends in a stump because he lost his hand in the Games he won thirty years ago. I'm sure they offered him some artificial replacement like they did Peeta when they had to amputate his lower leg, but I guess he didn't take it. 

The woman, Seeder, looks almost like she could be from the Seam, with her olive skin and straight black hair streaked with silver. Only her golden brown eyes mark her as from another district. She must be around sixty, but she still looks strong, and there's no sign she's turned to liquor or morphling or any other chemical form of escape over the years.

 Before either of us says a word, she embraces me. I know somehow it must be because of Rue and Thresh. Before I can stop myself, I whisper, “The families?” 

“They're alive,” she says back softly, understanding what I meant before letting me go with a soft smile. 

Chaff throws his good arm around me and gives me a big kiss right on the mouth. My eyes grow wide and I jerk back, startled, while he and Haymitch laugh. Peeta watched Chaff with a clenched jaw, giving him the same strange look he gave Finnik earlier. 

I open my mouth to say something about it to him but the Capitol attendants are firmly directing us toward the elevators. I get the distinct feeling they're not comfortable with the camaraderie among the victors, who couldn't seem to care less. 

As I walk toward the elevators, my hand still latched tightly with Peeta's, someone else rustles up to my side. A girl pulls off a headdress of leafy branches and tosses it behind her without bothering to look where it falls. 

Johanna Mason. From District 7 Lumber and paper, thus the tree. She won by very convincingly portraying herself as weak and helpless so that she would be ignored. Then she demonstrated a wicked ability to murder. I admired her greatly and in the games last year many people assumed that I was following in her footsteps with my meek attitude. But unlike Johanna I was not as skilled at killing, just the hiding and playing dumb bit. 

She ruffles up her spiky hair and rolls her wide-set brown eyes. “Isn't my costume awful? My stylist's the biggest idiot in the Capitol. Our tributes have been trees for forty years under her. Wish I’d gotten Cinna. You look fantastic.” She says with a wink. 

My face flushes and I feel Peeta’s grip on my hand tighten further and I find myself growing increasingly curious as to why. 

While we wait for the elevators, Johanna unzips the rest of her tree, letting it drop to the floor, and then kicks it away in disgust. Except for her forest green slippers, she doesn't have on a stitch of clothing and my face grows hot at the realization.

 “That's better,” she says plainly, very unbothered at the fact that she was naked and surrounded by people. 

We end up on the same elevator with her, and she spends the whole ride to the seventh floor chatting to Peeta about his paintings while the light of his still-glowing costume reflects off her bare breasts. When she leaves, I let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding and. I watched as the doors close behind Chaff and Seeder, leaving us alone.

We both remain silent for a moment before he looks over at me with a smirk. 

“What?” I ask nervously turning to face him as we step out on our floor.

 “It's you, Y/n. Can't you see?” he says.

 “What's me?” I say confused. 

“Why they're all acting like this. Finnick with his sugar cubes and Chaff kissing you and that whole thing with Johanna stripping down.” He tries to take on a more serious tone, trying to mask the one he's had since Finnick had spoken to her, but he was unsuccessful 

“They're playing with you because you're so ... you know.” 

“No, I don't know,” I say. And I really have no idea what he's talking about.

 “It's like when you wouldn't look at me naked in the arena even though I was half dead. You're so ... pure,” he says finally. I blush, my face turning red again at the implication. “No, I am not!” I exclaim. 

“Yeah, but ... I mean, for the Capitol, you're pure,” he says, firmly. ”And honestly, it's very attractive." He said 

I paused at that, glad that he was behind me, and could not see the blush that seemed to darken my face. I felt his warm hands wrap around my waist as I tried to think of something to say to defend myself.

“I know we are engaged, but no one seems to understand that you are mine, Y/n” Peeta says softly, resting his head on my shoulder as he holds me against him. 

“They don’t respect that you are mine, and I don’t know how to show them that you are”. He said. “But I can show you,” he whispers seductively into my ear. "Yeah?" I ask softly, not trusting myself to be able to say anything else at this moment. 

“Oh yeah, will you let me do that sugar cube?” He asks gently, teasing me with that nickname. I know he was alluding to Finnicks offerings and I couldn’t help the amused smile that fell on my face. I remained still as his hands moved across my waist only to stop and rest on my hips. 

I nervously chew on my bottom lip and nod softly, growing both excited and nervous to see what he had planned. Suddenly his behavior since my encounter with Finnick all made sense. He. was. Jealous. Soft, affectionate, and kind Peeta, my Peeta, was jealous, and it was oddly very attractive. I felt a soft, wet kiss on my neck that snapped me out of my thoughts.

 “I need an answer sweetheart,” he said placing another kiss on the opposite side of my neck.  suck in a deep breath and lean further into him, “Yes”, I say breathlessly and I feel him smirk against my skin. 

 He kisses my neck once again, and I melt into his embrace. He pulls away and looks into my eyes, his pupils were dilated and his breathing was heavy.  “Hold tight then,” He says seductively before spinning me around. I gasp at his sudden movements and cling to him as he backs me up against the wall in his room and pins me to the door with his hips. I gasp and he takes that as an opportunity to kiss me deeply, letting his tongue explore my mouth. I soon find myself pressing back against him and matching his hungry kisses that seem to devour me. 

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and he holds my waist tightly, pushing himself closer to me and I can’t stop the moan that leaves my lips. “Peeta”, I say breathlessly as his mouth leaves mine and he opts to kiss my neck. 

He hums in response and moves his hand up to my neck to where the buttons of my top sit. He starts to undo them, and I let him. Once unbuttoned he pulls it down my arms and rids me of it, leaving me in just my bra and pants. He stares at me for a moment, his eyes taking me in before he moves in closer. His lips press against mine, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. I let myself get lost in the moment, in the sensations he's making me feel. I feel my body melting into him and I reach my hands up into his blonde hair, tangling my fingers in it to ground myself.

He slowly kissed down my neck, nipping and sucking as he went. Dark red and purple marks decorated my skin as he went, successfully marking me ask his. Usually, he was gentle and sweet and though this wasn’t the first time they had kissed, it certainly seemed like the most intimate and hungry. 

He spent what seemed to be hours littering my chest and neck with his marks, successfully marking me as his, and he probably would have continued if Effie, Hamitch, and the others hadn’t gotten back and called for them. 

Pouting I looked up at Peeta, my eyes glassy and my pupils just as dilated as his. He chuckled softly and gave one last kiss to my swollen lips before resting his forehead against mine. 

“Hopefully now you’ll remember and understand that you’re mine Y/n,” Peeta said.  I smiled at him my heart racing in my chest as I looked up into his blue eyes. I nodded as I whispered, "I do." He leaned in and kissed me one last time before disappearing into his bathroom to quickly change. I stood against the door for another moment trying to process what had happened. 

After several seconds I laughed to myself, “Wow”, I whispered to myself as I looked around his room for something I could change into myself so as to not seem suspicious to everyone else. “Just wow”. I whispered shaking my head. My nickname in the Capital was the Girl on Fire, but it seemed like I wasn’t the only one who burning. 

[msmk11]

I Made You a Pie

Peeta Mellark x fem!reader

WC: 849

CW: Mentions of food; you and Peeta had a fight; making up; reference to r's father believing in stupid gender stereotypes; fluff

Summary: The aftermath of you and Peeta's first fight.

Day 9 of mk's mad dash

You and Peeta fought.

You couldn’t wrap your head around it. 

You and Peeta just had your first fight, and it was awful. 

Scratch that, it is awful. You suppose the fight hasn’t been resolved, seeing as you’d told Peeta you needed some air an hour ago. 

It’s not like you’re trying to run away from your problems. 

Okay, maybe you’re trying to run away from them a little. But you also actually needed some time to think. To cool off. Sure, you and Peeta had a fight. But that doesn’t mean you want to say anything mean or nasty just to hurt your boyfriend. You’re a mature adult who can handle conflict well, it’s just that sometimes, you need to step away for a moment to regulate your emotions.

Probably. 

The fresh air has done you some good. After taking a long walk through the woods, you feel calm, level headed, and reasonable. Still, your stomach is in knots as you climb the steps to Peeta’s home where you’d left him. 

When you open the door, you’re surprised- pleasantly surprised that is. The air smells sweet- sweeter than it usually does, at least. You’re not sure if it’s your heart or nose, probably both, that guide you towards the kitchen where you find your boyfriend hovered over the oven. At the sound of your footsteps, Peeta’s head snaps up, “Honey, you’re back. I thought you might’ve left for good,” he says with a nervous chuckle.

“Sorry, I lost track of time in the woods…was trying to clear my mind.”

“Did it?” Peeta asks, “Help clear your mind, I mean.”

“Yeah, definitely. I feel much better now.”

He smiles warmly at you and you almost forget why you fought in the first place. Nosily, you crane your neck to see what new concoction he has before him.

“What have you been up to?” You question nonchalantly.

Peeta looks down awkwardly and scratches his neck, “Oh, I, uh, made you a pie.”

You certainly melt this time, your resolve no match for your boyfriend’s tooth-rotting sweetness. You walk forward and pull him into an embrace, “thank you, sweetheart.”

“I made your favorite too,” he says, mumbling into your neck. 

You pull away and grab his face, placing a soft kiss to his nose. Then, more seriously you add, “Can you step away for a moment so that we can talk things through?”

“Yes, yeah, of course, love,” the blonde responds. He grips your hand tightly and pulls you to the kitchen table. Though you’re already sitting in the chairs right next to each other, Peeta grabs the back of your chair and pulls you closer to him, so that your knees are in between his own. 

You’re still overcoming your flusteredness at being so close to your boyfriend when he starts to apologize, “Honey, I’m so sorry I-”

You reach out and put your hand on his thigh, “Peeta, sweetheart. Wait. You’re not the one that needs to apologize first. It should be me. I’m the one that overreacted.”

“But-”

“Please,” you plead, “Just let me say this first.” 

He nods at you to continue.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you this morning when you were just trying to be helpful. Of course I appreciate your nice gestures, and I understand that you just want to do things for me because you like to spoil me. And I love that about you. But I guess sometimes it makes me feel like I’m incompetent. Like you don’t think I can do things around the house to help- even if it is your house. Growing up, I was told I was incapable or incompetent simply because I was a girl. My father didn’t believe I could do anything besides help out in the kitchen or with the laundry, and it always bothered me. I guess I’m just sensitive about that sort of thing. And I want to be viewed as an equal.”

Peeta squeezes your hand softly, “I’m sorry that happened to you so young. I know you, sweet girl, you are capable of whatever you put your mind to, and I never intended to make you think I think otherwise. I just, never want you to have to work a day in your life if you don’t want to. I only want the best for you, honey. But I can see how that can feel degrading, so I’m sorry.”

You reach out and peck your boyfriend’s lips gently, “Thank you, sweetheart. I do really love how well you take care of me. Just know, I’m not afraid to do the dirty work. I know this isn’t my place but-”

“It might as well be,” Peeta interrupts, “You may not live here yet, but I always think of this place as ours- the place we’ll someday live as a married couple, maybe with a few kids.”

The biggest, silly grin crosses your face, “I rather like the sound of that, my sweet boy.”

“Even sweeter with the pie I made you?”

You’re pretty sure the kiss you give him answers the question. 

[gtgbabie0]

-Peeta Mellark x reader

{You and Peeta bake… more or less}

It’s short and sweet, Enjoy my lovelies! 💕

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The sun was beginning to set, its warm orangey light stretches over the horizon and filters through the kitchen window, peaking through the curtains as Peeta works the dough under his palms. You were meant to be helping, but instead, you stood admiring him as he works under the warm evening sun, the light dusting against his skin.

Peeta can feel your eyes on him, and he smiles to himself turning to you. “Are you gonna help me, or just keep ogling at me?” He chuckles as he continues to knead the dough under his palms.

You scoff shaking your head as you snap out of your trance. “I was not ogling… I was admiring there’s a huge difference” you tell him, flicking some of the flour up at him as he tries to dodge it. You reach over to pick up another pinch of flour but his hip nudges against yours, pushing you away gently as you giggle.

“Hey… there are rules to the kitchen you know?” He says, looking over at you as his blond hair falls just above his eye, you reach over to push his soft locks away and he gives you an appreciative smile.

You frown softly, deciding to humour him. “Oh yeah, and what are the rules?” You ask, watching him as he washes his hand before turning back to you.

“Well for one… no ogling at the baker and secondly no throwing ingredients” he smirks as you roll your eyes shaking your head softly, he picks the dough up carefully placing it in the bread pan.

There’s a comforting atmosphere that blankets over the pair of you, it’s in the smell of the freshly baked bread and the way Peeta looks at you. It’s everywhere hidden within the walls of the house and stored in the pictures that are displayed.

You stand beside Peeta as he washes up the dishes while you dry them. “Could you get that baby?” He asks softly, his hands still scrubbing the bowls as he nods down to his sleeve that has fallen down to his forearm, you reach over to pull it back up to his elbow and he whispers a small ‘thank you’

The pair of you finish up with the dishes, waiting for the bread to finish cooking. The pair of you sit on the sofa. Your head rests against his shoulder as you lean into his warm touch. His hand slips into yours, and his thumb caresses your palm gently. It’s hard to fight the sleep that creeps upon you, especially since he’s warm and gentle, everything about him soothes you.

“Don’t fall asleep angel” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he feels your body lean further into him. His hand soothes against your arm, trying to keep you awake, but it has the complete opposite effect.

“M’not… I’m wide awake” you mumble, sleep lacing through your tone and Peeta can’t help but chuckle. Before he can respond the timer is ringing from the kitchen, and the smell of bread travels through the house.

Peeta stands up, stretching slightly before looking back at you. “Stay awake for me baby” he says as you sit up giving him an unconvincing nod before he disappears into the kitchen.

It doesn’t take long for him to come back with a plate of warm golden bread. He places it on the coffee table, breaking a piece off before handing it to you, with a hopeful look that flashes through his eyes as he watches you take a bite.

“It’s perfect… as always” you smile, reaching over to take another piece of the sweet-tasting bread.

“You know there’s another rule to the kitchen,” Peeta says, sitting down next to you on the sofa with a knowing look.

There’s a soft smirk that adorns your lips as you turn to him, raising your eyebrows slightly. “Mhm… and what’s that?” you ask.

“You gotta pay the baker” he smiles and you roll your eyes, shaking your head softly as you whisper. “Right of course how could I forget” leaning to press a gentle kiss to his lips, his hand resting against your cheek as his fingertips graze along your jaw.

You can’t help but smile against his lips, breaking the kiss as he pulls away with a soft look in his eyes… as if you were everything he ever needed and truth be told you were.

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[milkywaygalaxygurl]

Comfort - Peeta Mellark

Purely self indulgent fic, I’m not doing the best right now and I wish I just had Peeta here to give me a hug :( sorry if there’s any typos or anything! fyi, i will take requests! i write for a lot of different characters so just ask if i will and i might! i don’t really have any restrictions on what i’ll write about minus smut:)

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Female!Reader

Warnings: maybe OOC!Peeta?, mentions of trauma but no description, pure fluff, idk if there’s anything else lmk if i missed anything

Word Count: 600(?)

Like I said, purely self indulgent. (Y/N) is sad and Peeta is a Sad Baby™ himself and understands how to comfort (Y/N) because of it.

Peeta could tell you were upset the second he laid eyes on you. Your smile when greeting him wasn’t as bright as it usually was and you seemed distracted, like you weren’t really present, when Peeta began talking about his day. He always seemed to pick up on your moods, even when you tried hiding the fact that you’re upset from him. Dealing with his own traumas and bad days had caused him to be able to spot yours in seconds.

“(Y/N)?” He says your name softly, so as to not startle you, and smiles softly when you turn to look at him. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, tilting his head as he studies your features.

“Are you doing alright, my love?” His voice is soft, so gentle, and it causes the dam to break. Tears begin to slide down your cheeks as you shake your head, a sob racking your body. Peeta gathers you up in his arms and pulls you into his lap, holding you tight against his body.

“It’s alright, it’s okay, I’m here.” He kisses the side of your head, one of his hands rubbing up and down your back while he rocks you slightly. He feels his heart tighten as another sob falls from your lips, his hold on you tightening.

“If you’re feeling up to it, we can talk about what’s bothering you. Don’t force yourself to if you don’t want to, okay? We can always talk about it later.” Peeta pulls you away from his body so he can see your face and smiles softly at you, wiping the tears off your cheeks. You smile weakly at him, trying to convey to him that you were grateful for his comfort.

“I-I think I j-just need to c-cry.” Peeta nods his head in understanding, kissing your forehead. He pulls you into him again, whispering sweet nothings and comforting words in your ear. Your sobs eventually subside, but tears still fall from your eyes as you hold tightly to Peeta. He doesn’t let you leave his arms until you’re no longer crying, but even then he doesn’t stop taking care of you. He draws you a warm bath with scented bath salts, ones he knows help calm you down. Once you’re seated in the bath, he whispers about anything that comes to mind to distract you from the bad thoughts as he washes your hair. After the bath, he helps you into the clothes you always prefer when having a rough day.

“Thank you.” You whisper to him when you’re settled in bed, your head tucked into his chest and his arms around you. One of the things you loved most about Peeta was his ability to be so kind, so loving, without even thinking about it. It was just in his nature to be that way and it made you fall head over heels for him the first time you witnessed it.

“Of course, my love.” His whispered reply makes you pull back from his chest to look up at him, pure adoration and love in your eyes for this puppy dog of a man you called your boyfriend.

“I love you.” You whisper, your lips split into a lovesick grin. His smile mirrors your own as he pulls you into a gentle kiss, trying to put all his love into the gesture.

“I love you more than you could ever know.” His murmured reply is all you hear before you’re slipping off into a much needed rest.

[asterias-record-shop]

ik you said you didn't find peeta attractive in that way but this prompt SCREAMS peeta mellark.

"Please, please- I'll be good, I just need to fuck you."

Just because I don’t think he’s attractive doesn’t mean I can’t write smut- /jk

I think I might’ve worded what I said wrong though 😭 I’m attracted to Peeta’s character yes (definitely not as much as Finnick) but I’m not attracted to Josh Hutcherson if you get what I mean??

But no, Peeta is so subby and would so do that omg.

Peeta was whiny on the train, desperate as he tugged you into the room. “Y/N, please, please I’ll be good… I promise. I’ll be good, please please.”

“Peeta!” You scolded him playfully, giggling. “We can’t do this, we’ll be at the Capitol soon.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t care, I just- I need you. Please, please- I’ll be good, I just need to fuck you.”

You look at the closed door. “You’ll be quiet too?”

He nods vigorously. “I will! I promise.”

You smiled, giggling. “Okay.”

[ceruleansx]

healed | peeta mellark

↳ warnings : mentions of blood, fluffff

↳ summary : after a fight with gale, you tried to find your house. after accidentally going to peeta's instead of yours, you still decided to stay with him.

↳ reader x soft!peeta x mean!gale

↳ a/n : yall r gonna like this one. also sorry for gale people

------------------------------------------------------------

your ears were ringing and you mind was dazing. did gale really hit you and throw you against the wall? you vision was in a blur as you stumbled up the wall.

"y/n i-" you heard gale say. it was probably in his normal voice, but after the impact with you and the wall, it seemed muffled.

you basically ignored his words and opened the door quickly. you didnt want to risk him getting mad again and hitting you once more.

"y/n!!" he yelled, this time a little more clear.

he was upset you went to the woods, knowing that it has become more dangerous.

you walked the streets, trying to recongnize your house. they were all the same looking, since you won the games.

one house looked like it could've been yours. you didn't even hesitate, so you knocked on the door, hoping your mom would answer and rescue you.

you waited for about 5 minutes, until you turned away. before you moved to the next house, you heard the door spring open.

you turned around desparetly, still hoping it was family.

it was peeta mellark.

he was panting fast, like he sprinted for his life down those staires.

"y/n...?" he says out of breath.

you walk up to his door. like usual, you wouldve rolled your eyes and left. but something about that night made you stay.

once you were closer, he finally got a good look at the big scrach and bruises on your face. his heavy breathing almost stopped, and his eyebrows turned into a concern.

"who did this to you?" he grazed his thumb across the wound on your cheek.

you winced at the contact. "gale."

he nods and takes you in. "i'll get you cleaned up okay. lord knows if you could get an infection." he chuckles softly.

you smile at his gesture. you look around his house, almost looking the same interior as yours. but the smell of bread got your attention.

"hmm.." you mumbled.

he smirked and looked towards the kitchen.

"ohh i see," you could hear his smirk forming, "you want bread, huh?"

you nodded, "please, your bread smells to good."

"lucky for you, its fresh." he chuckles.

he carried you two the kitchen and sits you down to the counter. he goes to the oven and tears out a piece of bread.

"here.." he says softly as he hands you an doughy piece.

you two eat the bread in silence, sitting in each other's comfortable silence.

------------------------------------------------------------

peeta places you at the edge of the bathtub. he reaches for a small cloth and waits for the hot water to turn up.

"you didnt have to do this ya know.." you said as you two waited.

he shrugs. "you chose the right house." he smirked.

you smiled and looked down at the face to hide your blush. it cant be. your so called enemy since elementary is being nice. and you like it?

the fact made you look back at him. you didn't realize that he cuter than you thought. his nose was the perfect shape, and god were his arms big.

his beautiful blonde hair fell down his forhead so effortlesly. the thoughts made you admire him.

"i would say staring is rude," he leans toward you with the cloth. "but i dont mind it cause it's you."

you open your mouth slightly, and there was no going back to the blush on your face.

he stroked your cheek lightly with the cloth as you two held eye contact. for a long time. the blood went away, but the stare between you and him didn't.

why was peeta mellark making you feel this way.

you wanted to do something that you didn't want to do, yet it felt so right.

you looked at his lips, his eyes, then his lips again. you grabbed his face and smashed your lips with his. his lips fitted with yours perfectly. his teeth softly bit your bottom lip, which made the butterflies in your stomach go even crazier.

you two eventually pulled away and leaned each others forheads together.

"can gale kiss and treat you like this?" peeta says whispered, almost like gale could hear.

"never in a million years peeta." you say before leaning into another sweet kiss.