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darknight3904 · 1 year ago

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It Burns For You

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴘɪᴛᴏʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇꜱ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ɴᴏɴᴇ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ. ᴏᴏᴄ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ, ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜᴇᴇʟꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ. ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ!

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

Coriolanus is 12 when he sees you for the first time. Your red uniform is pressed perfectly and your school bag looks brand new. Your lunch consisted of a hearty-looking sandwich with roast beef and lettuce and a container of fresh fruit that had his mouth-watering.

"Do you want a piece? Our maid always packs too much and I can never finish it. You can have some if you want." Your voice fills his ears

A delicate-looking hand is holding a juicy-looking strawberry in front of him. He reaches for it and it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to shove it in his mouth. Instead, he takes a small bite and thanks you for sharing.

"Don't you have a lunch today?" You ask

He doesn't. The school had said they would start supplying the students with lunches soon but how soon? Coriolanus had already been attending for a number of years and still nothing.

"I already ate it." He lied

"You're still hungry though. You can have the rest." You say with a smile as you push your fruit bowl to him.

"Is it your first day?" He asks

"Yes, my mother thought that my governess wasn't doing a good job so she had my father enroll me here. I miss being at home with my new kitten though. She has long white hair and she is the cutest thing in the whole world." You said

Coriolanus can't believe that you had your own governess, let alone a pet to call your own. He later learns from Arachne that your father became incredibly rich by manufacturing weaponry for the Capitol. Despite your inherent wealth, you've never flashed it around him.

You and Coriolanus are 15 when you discover all the lies he tells at school about his family. He had left his uniform jacket behind on his chair and you got his home address from Sejanus, meaning to give it back so he'd have it for tomorrow. Instead, you had discovered the Snow's decrepit-looking building and barely functioning penthouse. Coriolanus' heart nearly stops when he emerges from his room to see you and his Grandma'am sitting together as she compliments your shoes.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, ready for your judgment and teasing words

"I wanted to return your jacket, Coryo. You'll need it for tomorrow."

The red of the jacket in your arms matches his face as he ushers you to the door, trying to hide the fact that Tigris was preparing cabbage in the kitchen that would undoubtedly stink the entire place up with the scent of the Snow's poverty.

"Stop rushing me, your cousin invited me to stay for dinner." You say trying to stop the way he is leading you to the door.

"You don't want what she is making. Tigris is a terrible cook." He said

Tigris lets out a shout of disagreement from the stove and Coriolanus ignores it.

"How about, I go out and get something to add to the meal Tigris is cooking, and by the time I get back you change your attitude about me staying for dinner Coryo. "

And with that, you walk out the door and slam it in his face. He's rather stunned at your declaration but knows you're serious. He rushes around their home, trying to clean up what he can while Tigris laughs at his frantic motions. Then, just as he was debating whether or not he wanted to change out of his uniform, you return from your short trip to the closest market.

"I wasn't sure what Tigris is cooking so I got a couple of things." You say placing the bags on the table.

Coriolanus is sure you spent a fortune on what is in these bags. Fresh bread accompanied by a sickly sweet fruit spread and a block of butter sits in one while the other holds something else in a brown box. You take your seat next to him at the ugly little table he has eaten too many meals at and cut a piece of the bread for Grandma'am. He is worried when Tigris starts portioning out the cabbage she cooked on the stove. Coriolanus watches your expression as you take a bite but nothing that he expected happens. You don't knit your brows in disgust or get up to leave and take your fresh bread and mysterious box with you. Instead, you go back for a second bite and compliment what Tigris has done with the food.

He sits stiffly next to you and can barely accept the slice of bread you offer him. You excuse yourself to use the bathroom and Tigris reaches across the table and pinches his shoulder.

"Stop sitting like that, Coryo!" She scolds

"Like what?" He asks,aware that Tigris meant how oddly straight his back was.

"You're making her uncomfortable. You've been friends with her for years she isn't worried about what our home looks like." Tigris says

"She might not be but what happens when she goes to school tomorrow and talks?" He asks

He shuts up when he hears the sound of the bathroom door opening again.

"That was lovely Tigris. I've never had anything like it, I'll have to invite you all to my own home for dinner sometime. Our cook makes these pastries that are simply wonderful. They even get sold at local markets, which leads to this..."

His eyes widen when you finally unveil what was hiding in that second bag. A dozen expensive looking deserts sit in the brown box you brought, each one decorated differently.

"I hope I picked something everyone would like. I know Coryo mentioned that Grandma'am liked chocolate so I picked this one just for her."

Coriolanus feels a wide smile stretch across his face as you pass out your little desserts. His worries about you gossiping to their peers fade from view as he bites into what he thinks is a croissant. You laugh at his reaction and toss a napkin at his face which is most likely covered in the gooey fruit filling that was in his pastry.

He walks you back to your home that night and thanks you for making his night. He can't remember the last time Grandma'am had smiled from eating chocolate. You accept his thanks and gently tell him that he shouldn't be ashamed about his financial situation. He never gets to disagree with you though because a soft kiss is pressed to his lips followed by a rushed,

"Goodnight, Coryo! Thanks for the cabbage!"

He walks back to his own home with a jump in his step. Thoughts of you consume him as he smiles to himself, proud his first kiss was shared with you. He feels his heart burn with something that felt like it was going to come up and out his mouth as he finally made it back to his room, you officially had him wrapped around your finger.

Your room is flooded with sunlight the first time Coriolanus sees it. A soft, silky-looking bed spread sits atop one of the biggest beds he has seen as you beckon to your cat, Maisy to come and say hello to him. He looks at the oversized wooden dresser that sits against one wall. He sees the photograph of him and you that was taken a few weeks ago at your 17th birthday party nestled among little knickknacks. Books Coriolanus has never even heard of line your shelves as he you place a record on the player that sits on your desk. Soft sounds of a piano and the words from an unnamed singer fill your gorgeous room as he turns to you.

"Do you want to dance?" He finds himself asking

You accept and he leads you or well tries to. You're rather stiff and it turns out dancing is harder than it looks because he isn't any good at it either. You laugh as he trips over his feet and end up falling with him, landing on the ground entangled in each other. Your fingers brush his curls from his eyes as his nose brushes yours.

"What're you doing?" You ask quietly

"Nothing." He responds, his eyes flicking to your lips.

The moment his lips touch yours, a tingle shoots down his spine. This is a real kiss, not what you gave him when you were both 15. He cups your face and your hands are tangled in his hair as he deepens it. He felt his head spin as you moved against him, almost as if you wanted him to swallow you whole right here on your bedroom floor. A giddy feeling swelled in his chest when he pulled away for air.

"Coryo...what was that?" You ask

"I thought you'd know by now. That was a kiss, darling." He laughed brushing his thumb across your lip

"I know that...but why'd you give me one?" You ask

"Don't you know?" He smiles and places a chaste kiss on your lips "My heart, it burns for you, it always has."

Part 2 is out now!

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wife-of-all-dilfs · 1 year ago

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a darling and a virgin | f. odair

masterlist

summary: you are a victor from district four, having just ended your first victory tour. after being confronted by president snow, you have no choice but to lose your virginity. luckily, your previous mentor is willing to provide some guidance.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: mentions of forced prostitution, angst, gentle smut, loss of virginity, fingering, lots of consent, praise, happy but also unhappy ending??, reader takes contraceptives.

notes: i’ve recently found that i’m incapable of writing short smut one shots so… i’m sorry y’all. love describing every detail too much.

word count: 6.8k

Your hands were clasped over the balcony railing of the penthouse you were spending the night in, the vibrant artificial lights of the Capitol burning your retinas as you overlooked the city. You had finally completed your first Victory Tour and were offered one more night in the Capitol to enjoy its ‘luxury’ and ‘generosity’ before returning to District Four in the morning.

For the past two weeks, you had read fabricated speeches to each District, resurfacing both your trauma from the Games and the families of the tributes you had murdered in the arena. The toll it was taking on you was heavy, but you managed to put on a splitting grin for every interview, speech, and disturbing congratulation. But not for your previous mentor, Finnick Odair.

Finnick had been there for you through the whole nightmare, even during the week before your Games. His support was unwavering which was one of the many reasons you had managed to survive from the moment you were Reaped to the end of the Tour. It was hard to tell when his mentorship had turned into something more complicated, but it had. It had become more about feelings than simply survival. Not a relationship per se, but not just a friendship either. You teetered on the line between the two, never crossing it and never discussing the fact that you were both aware of it either.

For six whole months.

When the final destination of the Tour came—the grand celebration at President Snow’s mansion—Finnick had told you it was the easiest part. All you had to do was manage a happy face, mingle with obnoxious Capitol citizens, and eat an abhorrent amount of food. He would have been right if you were a different person. If President Snow hadn’t demanded your singular presence at the end of the night.

You exhaled a shaky breath, watching the white mist drift into the light-polluted sky. The President’s words bounced around your head: Desirable… Customers... Family. The conversation played on a loop in your mind. You could remember the repugnant smell of roses, the overwhelming whiteness in the room, and the way his too-pleasant face lit up as fireworks exploded outside the window.

Shivers trickled down your spine, forming goosebumps that were borderline painful. The fact that you were on the ninetieth floor and wearing flimsy pyjama shorts and a thin long-sleeve shirt wasn’t helping either. The crisp wind blew against your body, but you had no intentions of moving to seek warmth. It felt appropriate to stay in the cold when your body would soon know nothing but unwelcome heat.

So lost in your spiralling thoughts, you failed to notice as another body silently took up space beside yours, warming up the side of your arm. This heat was welcome.

“Pretty cold out here.”

A startled gasp escaped your mouth. You straightened up and turned to the owner of the voice, only to find Finnick leaning against the railing, forearms over the edge the same as you.

“Sorry.” He chuckled. “I know my presence can be a little breathtaking sometimes. Nice shorts by the way.”

He turned his head turned to you, revealing his infamous flirtatious smirk. The dimples in his cheeks were prominent and charming. His bronze hair was perfectly dishevelled as usual, as if someone had purposefully placed each strand to give him the ‘sexy bed hair’ look. He was still wearing his white button-up and black trousers; the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows and a few buttons were undone, revealing his toned chest. The outfit had been accessorised with a metallic golden corset-like belt among other decorations that made him fit in with the Capitol crowd, but he must have taken them off. Now the outfit sort of resembled one that a boy would wear to a Reaping. Simple yet formal. Still gorgeous, not that he needed reminding.

Normally, you would retort with a snarky remark or, on the off occasion, flirt back, but instead, you resumed your previous position over the railings. You weren’t immune to Finnick’s charms; you praised anyone who was. You would usually be internally swooning at the sight of him, especially with the way he looked right now and his obvious flirting. But this night was much different. Flirting and swooning were at the back of your mind. All you could think about was your interaction with the president; the way his guards manhandled and escorted you to his study. The conversation that destroyed your hopes of a peaceful future.

Desirable. One word that sent ice coursing through your veins. Or snow, to be more poetic.

“I don’t think you’ve said a word since we got back,” said Finnick, still a hint of playfulness in his tone. He watched your gaze—eyes distant though not really seeing. It was clear something was wrong, so he continued, this time more softly. “You were gone during the fireworks.”

You remained unmoving, staring straight ahead at the city. Only when he uttered your name did he finally gain your attention. As you turned your head to face him, tears began to well up in your eyes.

Finnick noticed the silent distress in your expression and straightened up his stance. He towered over you, brows knitted together whilst his sea-green eyes flickered across your face, looking as if pieces were slowly falling together in his mind.

“He spoke with you, didn’t he?” he said. “Snow.”

To answer his question for you, a tear escaped your eye, but you were quick to swipe it away with a sniffle.

Your arms wound around your torso, hugging yourself as the words began flowing. “After I won my Games, when I was being crowned, he said something to me that I didn’t really understand." Your voice was gentle, just above a mere whisper. “Months passed and I’d forgotten all about it. Until now at least. He told me…” You swallowed the ache in your throat. “He told me, ‘I have big plans for you, Miss (L/N). I think you will be a very valuable asset to the Capitol citizens.’”

Finnick’s face had melted into an unreadable expression. His entire body turned to stone; it was like he was a marble statue portraying a Greek God. All of a sudden, he was sixteen again. He was in Snow’s study, being told that if he didn’t cooperate and essentially sell himself to the Capitol, his family would pay the price. And they did.

With a sad smile, you whispered, “I know what he meant now.”

Something inside him snapped and he broke from his stupor.

“No.” He vigorously shook his head. “He can’t do that. You can’t. I’ll go to him and—fuck!” His hand ran through his hair, making it even more dishevelled. The bright lights from the city were reflecting off his eyes, revealing the shine that was starting to gloss over them. “I can fix this for you, I swear I’ll—"

“Finnick.”

“He’s a fucking—”

“Finnick.” The plea in your voice ceased his panicked movements. He just stood there, looking completely and utterly helpless. You both did. Another tear slipped down your cheek as you stared at him, your voice wavering as you asked, “Can you hold me?”

He let out a breath as if the air had been knocked from his lungs and in one fell swoop, he stepped forward and pulled you into his arms. Silent tears began to flow more heavily, saturating his white shirt which he held you tightly against. There was a hand wrapped protectively around your lower back and another stroking the hair flowing over your neck.

You were certain Finnick let a few tears slip too because you could feel the cold breeze nip at the top of your head the slightest bit more. He mumbled the words “I’m so sorry” over and over into your hair but you just shook your head. You told him it wasn’t his fault, but he wouldn’t accept it. He had told you months ago about his arrangement with Snow. You couldn’t have imagined what it was like for him then, but you would be able to now. You would know every single little detail.

His embrace tightened as you turned your head and pressed your ear to his thumping chest.

The tears had stopped, and you managed to find your voice again. “Snow threatened to kill my family. What if the customers don’t think I’m good enough and he takes it out on them? I mean, I don’t have any experience.”

You remained silent, awaiting his response. When the hand stroking your hair halted, you realised your mistake. You realised what you had just admitted to him and mentally kicked yourself. Repeatedly.

Finnick moved both hands onto your forearms, gently pushing you away from him to get a clear view of your face. The surprise in his expression was enough to make you want to jump over the balcony ledge in embarrassment.

“You’re a virgin?”

Hearing the words out loud would have sent you over the edge—literally—if Finnick’s large hands weren’t wrapped around your arms. You tried to turn away from him, but his grip was unshakeable. Your eyes began to water again, and you felt pathetic.

“Hey,” he said tenderly as he tried to regain your eye contact. “It’s not a bad thing.”

Your distraught red-rimmed eyes snapped back to him. “Not a bad thing? Of course it’s a bad thing, Finnick! I have to give my body to a stranger despite never even having my first kiss! Let alone sex!” As you said the words, the full reality of your situation began to set in. Panic turned to sadness as you realised yet again, the Capitol was taking another innocence you thought was your own to give away. You looked down, your tone becoming quieter. “I thought my first time would be special. Or at least with someone I loved.”

God, you felt so embarrassed admitting that to him. Sure, a lot of your conversations were flirty and full of sensual banter. Sex, however, was not a topic that came up very frequently. You would never want to accidentally cross a line with Finnick, especially given what Snow forced upon him. So you liked to avoid the subject as much as possible. Now, it was inescapable.

He released his grip and sighed heavily, looking out toward the view as if he were deep in thought. The vivid city lights cast an unnatural hue on his usually golden-tanned skin; even now the Capitol was changing him into something he wasn’t. His eyes shut for a quick second before he reopened them and looked back at you. The only time he had looked this serious was the morning of your Games and the night you returned. It was a little intimidating.

His jaw ticked and his gaze bore down into your own. “Sweetheart, I’m going to ask you something,” he began, “and I want you to know you do not have to say ‘yes’ if you don’t want to, okay?”

Alright, now he was really starting to scare you.

“Okay,” you said warily.

The hardness on his face remained for a moment longer, but then his expression softened and became the most vulnerable you had ever seen.

His voice was gentle. “Do you want me to take your virginity?”

*************

You were sat on the edge of Finnick’s bed, toying with the black satin sheets with a frown. Your room didn’t get satin sheets. It was probably one of the benefits of being the Capitol Darling. Not that you envied him very much. He would probably be content with sleeping on a dirt floor if it meant he got his autonomy back.

Finnick was in the bathroom doing God knows what. You weren’t sure if he was trying to make himself more presentable or hyping himself up to have sex with you. The latter worried you. The last thing you wanted was to pressure him into something he didn’t want to do. Then again, he was the one who asked.

After you had told him “Yes, please”, he had tentatively but oh-so-gently taken your hand in his and guided you inside and to his room. Neither of you had spoken along the way; you just walked in silence toward something that would either ruin or deepen your relationship. Despite being two victors, this was still a mentor making sure his tribute stayed alive.

You heard the bathroom door slide open and looked up to see Finnick standing outside the door. Shirtless, pants still on, and towel in hand. It took everything in you to not stare at his perfectly sculptured torso, his equally toned arms, or his broad and muscular shoulders. Instead, your eyes met his for a split second before you returned to the satin sheets.

Blood rushed to your head and everything felt too real. Finnick Odair was standing before you, looking like an angel and willing to fu—

“You’re allowed to look, you know,” he chuckled.

But your gaze remained on the bed.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“You won’t.’” He spread the towel on the bed, positioning it in the middle. Then he stopped his movements as he realised what you meant. “It’s not like that. I’m not being forced to do this. I want to.”

Your head snapped up and your heart leapt as those three words left his lips—I want to. For a second, you believed him, but then reasoning came to deflate your hopefulness.

“You wouldn’t want to if I weren’t in this situation.”

He let go of the towel, sitting down mere inches beside you, his eyes amused despite the solemn context. “And how do you know that?”

“Because…” you trailed off, searching your brain for an explanation only to find none. “Because.”

He smirked. “We need to work on your argumentative skills, sweetheart.”

A small smile worked its way across your lips. He returned it with a comforting smile of his own, though the sense of playfulness never left. It never really did and that was one of the things you admired most about him. Even in the darkest of situations, he was able to provide some light.

Rosy heat crept into your cheeks and you were forced to break eye contact again. Hiding how much he affected you was pointless now; if this was going to work out, you needed to be vulnerable with him. With each other. You looked down at the space between your bodies. His hand was resting on the bed beside him and soon enough, it was slowly creeping across the sheets over to your own. He gently brushed his fingers across your knuckles before sliding his hand beneath your palm and interlocking it with yours. You couldn’t help but notice how small your hand looked compared to his, feeling butterflies flutter around your stomach at the small observation.

The both of you silently watched your intertwined hands. That is until Finnick decided to speak up.

“I would,” he said ambiguously, caressing the side of your hand with his thumb. “I would still want to. Even in different circumstances.”

The blush on your face reddened even more; your cheeks were on fire at this point. Even in different circumstances. Was that his way of confessing… that he did have feelings for you? It wasn’t exactly explicit, but it was certainly implied. Oh god, you didn’t know what to think.

You didn’t bother to reply; words probably would have failed you anyway. You just gave his hand a slight squeeze in acknowledgement—well, it was more in appreciation. It was obvious how hard he was trying to make you feel comfortable, but no matter how hard he tried, you couldn’t shake the nerves that were rattling your entire being.

Sex was a pretty big milestone—to you, at least—and here you were, on the precipice with someone you trusted with your life. Did you love Finnick? You weren’t sure. What you did know was that your feelings for him were deep, and even though neither of you had ever clearly confessed to each other, you knew he felt something for you too. Which made everything all the more daunting.

“Are you nervous?” he asked softly.

You nodded.

“We still don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

You shook your head, lifting your gaze to his. “No, I—”

His eyebrows pulled inwards, awaiting your answer. His eyes were so inviting and full of understanding, if you hadn’t lost the ability to form full sentences, you would have found yourself spilling all your secrets to him. He was so patient with you. So good. You had to rethink your uncertainty about loving him.

“I…” you tried again. Your eyes flickered back and forth from his sea-green eyes to his soft, pink lips. As shameful as it felt to admit, you had imagined what it would feel like to have his lips on yours many times before. Usually right before you went to sleep. Never would you have thought the day would come when it would actually happen.

He was still caressing the side of your palm, silently reassuring you, encouraging you to communicate with him. You sighed, closing your eyes. If he wanted you to communicate, then you would.

“Finnick,” you whispered. “Kiss me.”

Your words drifted into the air, stilling everything in the room—the air, Finnick’s hand. Your heart. He just stared at you, unblinking, unmoving, like someone had hit pause on the television at the tensest moment. The tension was tearing you apart and you almost got up and left the room. But you didn’t. Because suddenly, the sides of your face were cupped by large hands and his lips were on yours.

Finnick Odair was kissing you.

His lips pressed against yours once more in one long close-mouthed kiss before leaving again. Shock came and left within seconds and you found the courage to copy his actions. Your lips locked perfectly onto his, remaining still, enjoying the pressure and tingly warmth of simply having them connected. Then your lips moved to kiss him again. And again, and again until soon enough, his tongue had slyly slid into your mouth and you had somehow instantaneously become a master at French kissing.

This kiss felt familiar, despite it being your first. Like something you had done millions of times before, but only with him. Like having his lips on yours was the most natural thing to ever exist.

A hand moved onto your waist and suddenly you were being pulled onto his lap, legs straddling his lap. Your hands fell on his chest, mindlessly wandering and feeling the toned muscles ripple underneath your palms as he pulled you closer by the neck to deepen the kiss. Damn the people of the Capitol, but they were right to say he was an incredible kisser.

“Finn,” you huffed in between kisses, “have you got a rock in your pants?”

He pecked your lips once more with a smirk, resting his forehead against yours as you both attempted to catch your breaths. “No,” he chuckled. “I’ve just got a beautiful girl on my lap.”

Your eyes opened to see him grinning at you with mischief. Oh.

“Is that okay?” he asked.

You nodded jerkily. “Ye—Yes, that’s okay.”

“Okay, good.”

Biting your lip, you looked down between your bodies. Curiously, you rocked your hips along the length of his lap once, earning a quiet grunt from him.

He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “Careful,” his voice was low, tempting.

And of course, in full defiance, you did it again. His warning was a bluff. He made no real action to prevent you from grinding any further on his erection, so you kept moving, and he kept revealing how good it made him feel. The thin fabric of your shorts created a little barrier between his hard lap and the growing sensitivity between your thighs.

Meanwhile, you found yourself never wanting to be parted from Finnick’s lips. With every rock of your hips, your hands ran over every inch of his upper body, eventually settling in his hair. The way he kissed reminded you of stories of District Twelve. A district full of hunger and desperation. Only what Finnick was craving wasn’t the fullness of food in his stomach, but the desire to devour you whole. To ravage you. And by God, would you give anything to satiate him.

Forget what you thought before. This wasn’t just a victor keeping his tribute alive. As clear as the sea on a sunny day, this was a man giving himself over to a woman he loved. You. Finnick loved you.

When you pulled back to tentatively lift your shirt over your head, his eyes stayed on yours. Your breasts were literally bare and he just continued to scan the features of your face. However, you did notice the subtle shift in his breathing.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, stroking the side of your breast.

A shy, cheek-warming smile crept on your face and then suddenly, Finnick was rolling you over. Your head fell back onto the soft silk pillows, Finnick hovering above you. This position remained for a long while, the time spent simply kissing each other, alternating between deep tongue-filled kisses and soft sweet pecks. There were moments when you both stopped to flirt or giggle. These were the times you entirely forgot the whole reason you were doing this in the first place.

It was just you and Finnick. Two new lovers in a perfect world.

After a while, your lips had swollen with warm, passionate heat. You were flushed and you didn’t even need to look to know your hair was already a tangled mess. But you didn’t care.

One of Finnick’s hands had begun to wander down your stomach, breaking the established pattern of merely making out. You knew what was coming and surprisingly, you weren’t afraid. Unlike outside the penthouse apartment, there was no danger. Not in this room, in this bed, or in the hands that caressed you. He grazed across the skin beneath your belly button, causing your body to flinch up into his.

Of course, he smirked at that—the smug asshole.

He returned to your lips before lowering down to your neck and sucking soft, red marks into your fragile skin. His fingers found the edge of your waistband. At this point, you were already breathing like a marathoner.

His lips detached from your neck. “Can Itouch you?”

“Yes, please,” you breathed.

As he travelled down, down beneath your waistband, he pecked your reddened lips once more. A soft gasp escaped you and warmth tingled between your thighs. His fingers were gentle as he began circling that sweet, sensitive spot only you had ever touched. Having someone else touch you felt so much more different, so much more exquisite. Your body responded to his touch immediately, hips following each movement of his fingers, breaths quickening in pace.

Finnick gazed down at you, observing each pleasured twist of your expression. He began to pick up the pace as he noticed your body familiarising itself with the sensation. More pressure was applied and the gasps leaving your mouth were gradually turning into quiet moans.

“This feel okay?” he asked. Obviously, he knew the answer, but after years of having others take advantage of him, he couldn’t help but want to hear your willingness. Your consent.

But you weren’t sure if the words could form. Everything felt like it was vibrating. All you could do was focus on the pleasure his fingers were building.

“Come on, sweetheart. You can tell me.”

His voice had taken on that seductive purr he was well-known for and you just couldn’t deny him. It took everything inside you to muster up the words. “It—it feels so good.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. The gesture was so sweet, you could have cried. So sweet even with his hand stroking between your legs and his hard cock pressing against your thigh. Time slowed as his fingers sped up. Muscles in your stomach were tightening. Your insides were churning—not like when you first entered your Games’ arena, but in the best way possible. It was a sensation you had never felt before, but before it could build any more, Finnick’s hand stilled. And you genuinely whined at the loss of friction.

Then his hand moved even lower, resting a singular finger over your slick entrance. Your eyes were wide, unsure of how to feel with the sudden turn of events.

Finnick’s eyes flickered between your own. "You trust me?”

You weren’t sure if an easier question existed. “I do.”

And his lips were on yours again, deep and sensual. His tongue rolled over your own, pushing forward and then retreating in a perfect rhythm. He almost successfully distracted you from the feeling of his middle finger sinking into you knuckle-by-knuckle. Some sort of sound resembling a mix of discomfort and surprise vibrated in your throat as his finger bottomed out.

There wasn’t much pain. It was just an odd feeling.

Your lips parted from his and he looked down at you, his eyes holding an immense amount of security as he communicated through your shared gaze.

Does it hurt?

You gave him a gentle smile. No. Keep touching me.

He returned your smile with a grin. Gladly.

His buried finger curled, shooting a sharp pang up into your stomach which caused your back to arch up against his bare torso. Whether you considered it painful or pleasurable was uncertain. Perhaps a mix of both. He did it again. This time you settled on describing it as a tight twinge in your lower stomach which sent a wave of chills down your legs. Definitely pleasurable. Only, he stopped indulging you with the sensation after the second time.

Instead, you felt another finger slowly slip inside you and whimpered. Now that hurt. You felt your inner walls stretch with the second addition and it stung. Especially when he began to scissor his fingers inside you. This was him preparing you for the real deal. How you were supposed to have Finnick inside you when just his fingers had you stuffed was incomprehensible. But you allowed him to keep going, trying to enjoy the comforting kisses he pampered onto you.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” he said.

Your hands moved to push back his messy bronze hair as he hovered above you. His dimples deepened with a grin and you swore you would endure any pain to keep them etched on his face. After he deemed you stretched out enough, he slowly rose to his knees, unbuttoning his trousers and throwing them aside. You couldn’t do anything but stare. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

The way you gulped was almost cartoonish. How the hell was he supposed to fit? You had never seen a man naked before—you weren’t even sure Finnick was human. He had a body sculptured by the Gods, a face carved by angels, and a… well, let’s just say he didn’t disappoint in any other areas. You weren’t sure if the smug look on his face was real or a carefully curated mask created for his Capitol customers. By the way it quickly washed away, you could tell it was the latter.

He began sliding your shorts down your legs, tossing them to the floor. Suddenly, you felt extremely vulnerable. Almost inferior. Your knees fell together, concealing the most private part of yourself from him. You avoided his gaze, cheeks becoming red and hot as he observed your naked frame. He had a way of looking at you as if you were a long-forgotten masterpiece, rediscovered from centuries of being lost. No one had looked at you like that before him.

Gently, he pried apart your legs and you didn’t bother trying to resist. Only when he descended and settled between your legs did the insecurity dwindle into the background of your mind. Your naked bodies were hot against each other. His weight pinned you against the bed. Everything that was yours touched all that was his. You thought this experience would feel like a dream, but it all felt so real. You were nervous, you were trembling, and your breaths were shaky.

Finnick was quick to recognise the nervousness radiating off you. His arm curled beneath you, somehow pulling you even closer, meanwhile, his other arm rested beside your head. He brushed strands of hair away from your face, soothing you with his tender touch.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

You nodded. You wanted this—wanted Finnick. It was just the anticipation that was killing you. Your thighs squeezed his sides to tell him you were ready. For a few moments longer, he restarted the pattern of sweet kisses, rolling tongues, and the warmth of blood rushing to your head. His hand was caressing your cheek; yours were splayed on his back, gliding over the rippled muscles.

Then finally, he shifted, his hand moving south to align himself with your entrance. All you could do was watch his focused expression. This was the moment. The threshold of your relationship would be crossed as soon as he pushed forward. There was no one else you wanted to share the experience with because you knew this wasn’t just sex. Not for him or for you; it was more than that. Something bordering spiritual, breaking the bounds of physical pleasure and entering into a deep emotional connection. Something no paying customer of the Capitol could provide.

He was gazing down at you, half-cradling your head as he began to say, “Are you su—" But before he could finish, you had pressed your lips to his, answering his question. You were sure. He nodded in response.

His eyes were hesitant he began to push his tip between your folds. Your fingers dug into his back, more from anxiety than anything else. It became a game of stopping and starting as he moved deeper inside inch-by-inch, allowing your walls time to adjust around him. Never had you seen someone’s face filled with so many emotions—concentration, controlled gratification, affection. So many feelings twisted his expression. Meanwhile, yours held only one. Discomfort. He was so big; you felt like you were being split apart and he wasn’t even fully inside yet.

Finally, when his pelvis connected with yours, you exhaled a heavy breath. It hurt. Bad. Finnick had the right idea to lay down a towel because you definitely needed it. He had you filled to the brim, stretched out and stuffed. Even the slightest shift in his position had your hands flying to his shoulders in pain.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yes, just—” You bit your lip in an attempt to suppress a whimper. “Just go slow.”

He nodded. You smiled. Then for some odd reason, you laughed. And then so did he. Finnick’s face fell into the crook of your neck, muffling his boyish laughs into your skin. The added movements had your insides dully aching, but you didn’t pay it much attention. The moment was so innocently intimate that you wanted to stay in it forever. He lifted his head to press his grinning lips to yours and the laughter began to dissipate. Your mouths moved slowly together, full of heat and fervent emotion, and suddenly, Finnick’s body began to move too.

Careful as not to harm you, he slid himself backward in one slow motion and then pushed forward again in another. Pain stung at your inner walls and your lips left his as a gasp escaped your mouth. You were tempted to close your eyes whilst riding out the discomfort but couldn’t bring yourself to look away from Finnick’s face. He was so mesmerizingly beautiful.

His cheeks were a baby pink. Lips were a rosy red. There was a thin sheen covering his forehead, slightly wrinkled by his furrowed brows. Those messy bronze locks you adored so much fell in strands across his forehead. The evident concentration and care on his face just made him look all the more picturesque.

While you admired his features, you started to notice the pain accompanying his slow thrusts was becoming more tolerable. There was still a sting, but also a dull twinge in your stomach that had you biting your bottom lip. It felt sort of… nice. And you wanted to experiment with that feeling.

Your hands were hooked around his shoulders. “Faster.”

Are you sure? His lustful eyes spoke.

You pulled him back down to your mouth. Absolutely.

And so, his hips started to rock back and forth at a faster pace. You could feel yourself clench around his cock from the change of rhythm but forced yourself to relax. He thrust in and out, rubbing against the ripples of your walls, tip brushing at a spot inside you that was anything but pain. That is what you focused on—that one sweet spot.

Time went on and he gradually increased his speed. Your lips were swollen and red, no doubt from the way he would nip and suck on your bottom lip in between each flick of his tongue. His breaths were coming out louder, heavier, as were your own. Soon enough, you were in a rhythm that was both pleasurable for him and for you. The pain lingered but it was no longer unbearable. A shudder ran down your body and your pussy fluttered around him. Finnick broke away from your lips with a breathy groan that you swore you could feel in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

His thrusts became a little faster, a little more painful. A hand slipped down between your bodies and the pain faded quicker than it came. He was rubbing circles around your clit, occasionally running his fingers across it which caused you to lurch upward. All of a sudden, you came to the realisation that everything bad that had been clouding your mind had disappeared. The ache, the confrontation with Snow. Everything. The only thing you could focus on was the pleasure slowly building between your thighs and in your stomach. And Finnick. His tantalising eyes. His wicked mouth. His throbbing cock.

People always said your first time would be horrible; this was anything but. Maybe it had to do with the fact that you… loved him? Yeah, you loved him. Also because he was something of an expert at sex. You were in a pretty unlucky predicament but having Finnick willingly fucking you was a blessing.

His fingers were relentless, applying the perfect amount of pleasure that had you writhing beneath him. And added with the sensation of his cock repeatedly hitting that spot inside you, your uneven breaths turned into soft moans. He fucked, he rubbed, he nipped and sucked at the delicate skin of your neck. Heat was enveloping your entire body.

“Finnick,” you moaned.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” His voice was strained and hoarse.

His hand left your clit, hooking around your thigh, and curling it around his back so he could thrust even deeper. He restarted his rhythm of rubbing circles, but his thrusts felt different. Instead of just brushing that sensitiveness deep inside you, he was mercilessly hitting it. Over and over. Your moans were louder now; Finnick was more vocal too, grunting and occasionally uttering words of praise.

This went on for a while. His stamina was incredible—if you had a moment to think, you would have realised the depressing reasoning behind it. But you couldn’t think at all. Your heel was digging into his back; nails scratching at his skin. Both of you had a layer of sweat covering your bodies, skin wet, slapping and sliding over one another. Your pheromones had filled the room with the smell of sex, driving your need to finish.

Finnick’s mouth had been everywhere at this point. Your lips, your neck, shoulders, and breasts. Everywhere except your pussy, not that it really mattered anymore.

It was hard for you to comprehend how fucking amazing the sensations you felt were. There was heat and pressure pooling in your stomach, increasing at a slow pace, and growing more powerful by the minute. Finnick’s hips moved at a steady pace, but his hand had begun to slow. Even he had to succumb to fatigue at some point. He sounded like he had run for miles though was obviously pushing himself on for your benefit.

Instead of ceasing his tiring hand movements entirely, he switched hands. And that was when the heat in your stomach turned into a blazing inferno. He was much faster now. Applied more pressure. Your head fell back against the pillow with a cry. His cock was throbbing inside you at the sound.

“That feel good? Huh?” he practically moaned.

He left kisses across the stretch of your neck, running his tongue over the skin and leaving behind red marks.

“Yes!” you cried out.

Your entire body felt like it was being dipped into a white-hot flame of pleasure and the feeling was only increasing. It was clear Finnick felt the same way. His thrusts were becoming more frantic, he was cursing left and right, and he was practically pulsing inside you.

The heat in your stomach was overwhelming but you needed more.

“Finnick, I feel—I feel—” You couldn’t even describe it.

Finnick nodded, breathing heavily above you. God, he looked gorgeous. “You’re gonna come.”

Your half-lidded needy eyes met his. Something about him saying those words sent a wave of acceleration through your body. You hadn’t known what the edge was until you were on the brink of coming, and there was no stopping it. His cock plunged in and out, pushing deep inside you, practically rocketing your orgasm to the surface with each thrust. His fingers moved at such an intense pace you didn’t even know was physically possible.

As your eyes fluttered shut, your mouth fell open and every frantic breath, moan, and cry was able to escape. Finnick had the same problem. Fuck, he sounded so sexy, it only spurred you on.

Then it hit you all at once. “Fu—"

Every inch of your body tensed. You were sent into a space where white noise filled your hearing and bliss was all you knew. No pain. No sadness. Just ecstasy. Electric sparks jolted up and down your body, rising to your head, and causing you to see stars behind your closed eyes. Your moans were uncontrollable and desperate, voicing Finnick’s name over and over.

His thrusts were frenzied and sloppy, prolonging your orgasm as long as he could. He had lifted your lower back into an arch, enhancing the sensation coursing through your body. Your walls were clenching and pulsing around him, so much that he was abruptly thrown into his own high. His hips stuttered and eventually, his cock filled you as deep as he could, spurting out warm strings of white that coated your inner walls.

He collapsed on top of you, face buried in the crook of your neck. Your fingers wound into his hair, clinging to him as the aftershocks of your orgasm ravaged your body. Legs trembling and mouth panting, you lay there allowing yourself to regain your breath and ability to move.

After pressing a lazy kiss to your neck, Finnick slid off you, falling onto the bed beside you. Hopefully the towel was enough to save the silk sheets.

Now that you were resting, exhaustion had the chance to cloud your mind. You weren’t sure what the customs were after sex—whether you made conversation or simply went to sleep. The latter sounded pretty good though. A warm hand slipped beneath your back, turning your body sideways and pulling you so you were half strewn across Finnick’s chest and legs. You made no effort to resist.

Eyes closed, you listened to the heart beating inside his ribs. Thrumming intensely though starting to return to a normal rate.

“Are you okay?” he asked with a murmur, sounding utterly drained.

His thumb drew gentle patterns on the skin of your waist.

You nodded against his chest, remaining silent. After a little while you finally decided to speak. “I’m glad it was you.” And then after a few more moments of silence, you added, “I wish it was just you.”

You felt him press his lips to the top of your head. A long and emotional kiss. The whole reasoning behind losing your virginity returned to mind. It felt heavy, weighing down the atmosphere in the room. No matter how hard you tried to deny it, what was coming was inevitable. You wouldn’t get to stay with Finnick in this bed. You wouldn’t get to belong to him, or he you. You both belonged to the Capitol. To Snow. No matter how much you wished to belong to each other.

He whispered, “Me too.”

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gogogodzilla · 1 year ago

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day 31, sex pollen

peeta mellark x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, dubcon, unprotected sex, fuck or die, semi-public sex, slight dirty talk, reader gets sad at the end, multiple orgasms, dedicated to @omgbrcat hope you enjoy it bestie kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3

You didn’t think you’d ever run so fast and wildly in your life. Well, except for last year when you were fighting for your life and running away from everything that was trying to kill you.

Peeta was a few steps behind you, slower and stumbling a bit due to his prosthetic leg. You threw a glance over your shoulder every few seconds, just to make sure he was still there with you.

The various leaves and foliage of the jungle hit you as you ran. You hardly even notice as the foliage shifts from a normal lush green to unnatural shades of pinks, purples, and blues. You did notice, however, when one of the plants shoots a dusty substance directly in your face as you run past it.

You lost your footing as you attempted to wipe the dust off your face. Peeta came up beside you, arms outstretched and ready to pick you up.

“Don’t!” you shouted as you slowly stood, slightly relieved that your face didn’t immediately burn off. “I don’t want it to affect you, whatever it is.”

Your ears strained as you tried to discern if the mutts were still on your tail.

“Do you hear them?” Peeta questioned, echoing your thoughts. “Y’know since you have a Capitol-engineered ear and all.”

You huffed out a laugh as you listened. You couldn’t hear the familiar rustle of leaves, and you relaxed slightly. You knew never to get too comfortable in the arena, but your lungs were burning and you needed to get this stuff off your face.

“Do you still have the spile?” you asked, attempting to avoid the way your body felt like it was on fire and your heart was pounding in your chest.

“Yeah,” he breathed, as he began to hammer it into the trunk of a nearby tree. You prayed that the trees wouldn’t be as hazardous as whatever was covering your face. You watched as he stuck a finger under the liquid flowing out of the spile, checking to make sure it was safe.

He wrapped his hand around your elbow and it felt like fire bloomed under his touch. He was gentle as always as he guided your face under the water. You dragged your hands over your face as you washed off the dusty substance that had covered it. You attempted to rid yourself of the inferno burning under your skin.

Your cheeks flushed as you pulled away from the stream of water. Peeta’s touch was fleeting but your entire body ached for him. It was a strange feeling, unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

Your heartbeat pounded in your chest with every shaky breath you took. You hunched over, attempting to calm yourself. A thin sheen of sweat begins to cover your skin, and your eyebrows furrowed in something akin to pain.

You heard Peeta call your name, but the only thing you could get out was a whimper. He was on you within seconds, gripping your shoulders and shaking you slightly. You scrambled out of his touch, thinking clearly enough to know that you needed to get away from him.

“What’s wrong?” he questioned, voice desperate and eyes frantically searching over your form. You hurriedly crawled away from him.

You shook your head, as you pressed your back against a tree. “I— I don’t know. I feel hot,” you breathed, conflicted between clenching your thighs together and spreading them for him.

Peeta kneeled in front of you, eyes soft, “How can I help?”

You remembered before you’d entered your first Games together how he didn’t want the Game to change him. You were thankful that he was still the same sweet boy you entered the arena with. He was different in some ways, of course. No one left the arena unscathed, but who he was at his core was unwavering.

Your vision was becoming hazy, and a dull ache where you’d never felt it before emerged. You let out a low groan as the heat blistering down to your bones becomes almost unbearable.

Peeta crawled between your legs and cupped your face. You hissed at his touch, leaning into him. You gripped onto his sides, nails digging into the soft flesh through his suit. His touch felt heavenly against your skin, a ravenous hunger for more filled you to the very brim.

“Touch me,” you whimpered out, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “Please, Peeta.”

He swiped a thumb across your cheek, and your grip on his tightened. You tugged him closer, your limbs seeming to move on their own. You made a small, strangled sound in the back of your throat.

Peeta’s lips were hesitant against yours as he kissed you. He was always so gentle with you, never wanting to cross a line. You moaned against him, and swiped your tongue across his bottom lip, desperate to taste him.

You wrapped your arms around his back and clawed at the zipper to his suit, tugging it down as much as you could. He sucked in a breath as you yanked his suit off of his shoulders, practically manhandling him. You were giving the Capitol exactly what they wanted, but you didn’t care.

The ache deep between your legs was growing with every moment, and your body temperature rose along with it. Your kisses increased in desperation until you were pleading against Peeta’s lips and writhing against him.

“It’s okay,” Peeta soothed, reaching behind you to unzip your suit. “I’ll help, it’s okay.”

You hurriedly peeled your suit off your shoulders, letting out a sigh as Peeta’s fingers trailed over the newly exposed skin. Your cheeks flushed as he leaned down to press open-mouthed kisses against the column of your neck and your chest.

You ran your hands over the smooth expanse of his chest, the feeling doing little to quell the electricity crackling under your skin. His tongue circled your nipple, eliciting a breathy whine from you.

You raked your hands through the hair at the nape of his tugged and tugged on the strands. A groan vibrated in his throat, and his hands splayed against your ribcage.

“Peeta,” you whined as he kneaded your other breast and you clenched your thighs around him.

You couldn’t stand not having him for a second longer and you hooked your arms under his, gripping him tightly as you rolled to the side. You landed on top of him, straddling him. You panted as you finally got a good look at him. His eyes were half-lidded and he was flushed and breathing heavily. His pupils were blown wide as he looked up at you.

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, “Is it getting to you, too?”

He nodded, attempting to steady his breathing. You stood and shimmied out of your suit, tossing it to the side. You leaned down to hook your fingers into the waistband of Peeta’s suit and looked up at him through your lashes. The quick dip of his head was all you needed, and you were practically ripping his suit off of him. It wasn’t the first time you’d taken off Peeta’s pants, but you flushed all the same. You were too focused on saving his life last time to worry about being embarrassed.

You were back on him faster than your hazy mind could process, your hips moving on their own accord as you ground against his thigh. His length pressed against your belly, warm and unbelievably hard, as you dragged your hips against him.

You reached down and stroked him in time with each rut of your hips. He let out a mix between a whimper and a sigh as you did. Your movements quickened, and you buried your face in the crook of Peeta’s neck. With each twist of your wrist around his cock, he was letting out noises that had heat pooling in your belly. His tip was leaking, and you loved the sound he made when you ran your thumb over it.

Peeta’s fingertips dug into the plush of your hips so hard you didn’t doubt that he’d leave bruises. The animalistic part of you that had taken control wanted him to mark you in every way possible. Your slick had begun to cover Peeta’s thigh, allowing you to easily grind against him.

Your strokes became more erratic as your pace against Peeta’s cock increased. You both were so wound tight you might burst. You’d never been so aware of your pulse pounding in your ears, and you came with a strangled cry. Tears coated your cheeks as warmth encased your entire being and you spasmed against Peeta. You had a moment of respite as you thought the plant’s effects had subsided, but the drive to ravish him returned with a vengeance.

He followed you off the precipice soon after you calmed down, back arched and head thrown back as his release covered your knuckles. The fog that surrounded your head cleared just enough for you to realize just how pretty Peeta looked like this. If you were going to die, you didn’t think you’d get a better view.

Your pace slowed but Peeta was still hard in your hand. The boiling heat still lingered under your skin, and your pulse quickened. You wondered if that was the Capitol’s goal; to make you so fucked out you succumb to exhaustion or burn you from the inside out.

Peeta looked utterly exhausted and a coil of guilt settled in the pit of your stomach.

“Just one more, please,” you begged, trailing kisses down his neck. He nodded against you, and you could’ve cried from the relief that washed over you.

You lifted your hips and aligned the tip of his cock with your entrance, gasping at the sensation. Peeta’s hips bucked up unconsciously, shoving himself deeper inside you. A pained hiss left you, and Peeta cried out a thousand apologies, his iron grip returning to your hips once more.

“I’m sorry. You’re just— Fuck… So— tight,” he babbled out, brown eyes glazing over. You pressed a featherlight kiss against his cheek, thoughts too consumed with his cock inside you to reassure him properly. You slowly lowered yourself onto him, sighing when your hips were finally flush. Peeta had his eyes screwed shut, gritting his jaw in thinly veiled restraint.

Your hands settled on his shoulders as you began to rock your hips against his. Peeta rested his head against the tree as you rode him, releasing little pants and moans with every thrust of your hips.

With each moment that passed your movements became more erratic, desperate to reach your peak once again. Peeta’s hands frantically roamed your body, grasping and kneading whatever inch of skin he could reach.

He reached a hand between the two of you and drew hurried circles around your clit. He lifted his hips to meet yours, jutting himself deeper inside you. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled your ears, and you prayed you were the only ones trapped in this portion of the arena.

It took no time for your release to hit you, practically knocking the wind out of you as you clenched around Peeta’s cock. Your vision went hazy, and for a moment you feared you’d pass out.

Peeta finished with a few more rolls of your hips against his. He filled you to the brim, his release hot and steady coated your walls.

Your vision cleared as you came down from your high. The fire within you had finally dissipated, and you breathed a sigh of relief. You felt exhaustion consume you as you slumped against Peeta.

“I’m sorry,” you slurred out, clinging onto Peeta like your life depended on it. Your face screwed up and you felt your throat tightening.

“It’s okay. You’re okay,” he rushed out, running his hands over your body, attempting to soothe you as quiet sobs wracked your body. Your last thought before drowsiness overtook you was of how much you didn’t deserve Peeta Mellark.

Your heart pounded as you awoke, adrenaline spiking as you heard someone calling your name. You jumped to your feet, eyes frantically searching your surroundings. Your movements caused Peeta to stir and his eyes shot open, the same panic gracing his features.

You tugged on your suit, grimacing at the dried cum that covered your inner thighs. You tossed Peeta his suit and pulled him to his feet. You didn’t know how long you’d been out, and the thought turned your stomach. Someone could’ve easily come along and killed you both.

You grabbed your weapon while Peeta removed the spile from the tree.

“Let’s just hope our sponsors enjoyed the show,” you joked, immediately cringing as soon as the words left your mouth.

The corners of Peeta’s mouth quirked up, “I’m sure they did.”

#peeta mellark #the hunger games #peeta mellark x reader #the hunger games peeta #thg peeta #peeta mellark smut #peeta mellark x reader smut #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #reader insert #no y/n #josh hutcherson

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coryosbaby · 1 year ago

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18+, MDNI

The Water Scene in Catching Fire Defines how Peeta, Finnick, and Katniss Eat pussy.

I’m sorry, but I believe this wholeheartedly .

Peeta Mellark is gentle, smooth, and soft. His tongue leaves trails in brushy strokes against your clit, lips wrapped around the swollen bud and suckling. He uses his fingers to slowly curl into your sweet spot— the tips of them massage your inner walls perfectly, and he lets out tiny whimpers as he devours your cunt. He may talk, mumbling out tiny praises against your lips, blushing like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Love your pussy, love it so much..”

“squeezing my fingers so good, can’t wait for you to squeeze my cock, baby.”

“Cum, please please cum all over me… I’ll be a good boy!”

He eats you out anytime you ask him to, and sometimes a lot of the time when he feels like using his tongue. When he cums, he’ll do it grinding himself against your leg like a desperate, whimpering puppy. <3

Finnick O’Dair is wild, untamed, and sloppy. His mouth devours you as he fucks your hole with his tongue, his fingers bruising against your thighs as he laps at your cunt. Groans spill from his lips, and honestly he’s too busy tasting you to speak. But sometimes, if you’re being extra bratty, he loves to slap your thighs and pull away with his chin dripping with slick to scold you.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop squirming? Keep your fucking legs open.”

“If you yank my hair like that again, you aren’t getting my mouth for a month.”

“what’d I tell you, huh? Don’t make me have to duct tape that pretty mouth shut.”

Oh my god, he literally is always between your legs. He mostly always initiates it because he just loves your pussy so much, and you get shy when asking him. Sometimes he’ll pull out his cock and jerk it sloppily between your legs and ride out his high by marking his cum all over your lips. <3

Katniss Everdeen is skilled, precise, calculated. Her mouth latches onto your pussy without a second thought, the tip of her tongue rubbing circles into your clit. She presses her fingers deep, draws out orgasm after orgasm. She doesn’t care if you say it’s too much. Her mouth will move hot between your legs and she’ll make you cum over and over again until she wants to stop. She respects your boundaries, of course, but in this case you almost always ask her to push you over your limits. She’ll tell you where to put your hands, or where to guide her when she’s eating you so she can get it just right.

“No, I said to put them over your head. Don’t make me tell you again, okay?”

“How many times have you came? Three? Four? Oh, that’s cute. But you’re going to have to give me one more.”

“Grab my hair, not too hard— just like that. There’s my good girl.”

She does it when you suggest, or when she’s stressed and needs a snack distraction. When she cums, she does it by letting you return the favor. Your mouth kisses up her thighs, and you practically drool as you settle yourself between her legs <3

@mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper

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melgolbach · 1 year ago

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The Lights [Finnick Odair x Reader]

warnings: (panic attack),, n just overall cuteness overload !1!1!<3

You were having yet another panic attack inside the bunker, Katniss was by your side in an instant when Finnick was nowhere to be seen. “Deep breaths in, deep breaths out. Follow after me,” she whispered, rocking you back in forth in her arms. You tried following her directions but in the end, you failed and your panic attack was getting worse and worse.

“Is she okay?” Peeta asked Katniss, who looked back with a ‘does she look okay?’ look towards him. ‘ go get Finnick . NOW ’ she mouthed to Peeta, he nodded and walked off.

It was just you and Katniss again, and Katniss felt you to the core. You had just started to hyperventilate, and all she could do was hold you close to her body to keep you warm and try to get you back on track.

About ten minutes after Peeta had left the two of you, pairs of footsteps clicking to the floor could be heard. Katniss turned her head towards the sound, and exhaled out when she saw Peeta and Finnick behind. “Thanks for looking after her Kat.” Finnick nodded his head towards her, “she is my best friend. I’d be a bad best friend if I didn’t do anything,” Katniss gently lifted you up, the two of you walking towards Finnick.

“Hey, hey princess. What’s wrong? What’s got you so worked up?” Finnick took you into his arms, thanking Katniss once again as the other two walked away to who knows where. “I- I- I shot him,” you whispered, your hands going to your face to scratch at it. Finnick grabbed ahold of your hands, rubbing them gently with his thumbs. “That’s not what we’re gonna do today,” he chuckled with a soft smile.

Whenever you had panic attacks, you’d always scratch your face to the point it bled. Finnick helped you get out of that mess. He led you to the stairs, always getting permission for you to go outside the bunker just to look at the stars whenever you had your panic attacks.

He led you up the stairs, at a slow pace to not startle you. “How was your day, my love?” He hummed, wrapping an arm around your back and rubbing it slowly with his hand.

Finnick waited a few minutes for you to calm a bit down, he knew whenever he started conversations it would take some time for you to answer. “O—Okay,” you stuttered out. “What was your favorite part of your day?” He asked you.

You twiddled with his other hand that held yours. Playing with the golden ring on his ring finger. You smiled softly. “waking up next to you,” you whispered. the tears from your eyes finally came to a stop, wet streaks visible on your cheeks with your puffy red eyes. “Really?” Finnick’s lips turn to a huge wide smile onto his face. You giggled softly and nodded. “Really.” You repeated.

The two of you finally got to the top, and both of you had to climb up the ladder. Finnick got up there first to open the trap door, and then you followed suit. He grabbed your hands to pick you up quicker, and then sat you on the dirt ground. He closed the trap door and placed grass over it.

The two of you walked and walked till you got to your safe log that was surrounded by trees and bushes, big enough to fit you and Finnick sitting on the green green fresh grass. You sat on the said grass, while Finnick sat on the log behind you.

You leaned back into him, getting comfortable as Finnick wrapped his arms around your waist. You grabbed ahold of his hands and started to play with them, while you heard Finnick counting the stars.

“You’re never gonna get them all,” you giggle out, looking up at him from your spot. He looked down at you, “you made me lose my spot.” He pouted. “How many stars did you have in counting just right now?” You asked.

“50. 50 stars.” Finnick hummed. You made a duck look face, moving your lips to signal to Finnick you wanted a kiss. He chuckled and leaned down to you, to kiss you softly. He pulled away, his eyes half open as he looked at you with nothing but love.

“I love you,” Finnick spoke, kissing your lips once more.

“I love you too.”

#finnick x y/n #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #finnick x you #thg finnick #hunger games finnick #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #the hunger games katniss #katniss and peeta #katniss everdeen #katniss x reader #peeta mellark x reader #the hunger games peeta

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phefics · 1 year ago

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peeta mellark is gentle and romantic. he doesn’t want to seduce you, he wants to worship you. he’ll wine and dine you, bring you home, take off your heels and rub your sore feet, kiss his way up your legs, before eating your pussy until you cum twice, shouting his name. he might need a little guidance, his tongue fumbling for your clit, but once he finds it, he won’t leave it alone until you’re spent. then, he’ll cuddle up to you and let you sleep on his chest.

gale hawthorne is dominant and cool. he’ll bend you over a table and fuck you from behind, which would be impersonal if he weren’t kissing your shoulders and back, muttering sweet nicknames the whole time. he thinks his cock is enough to make you cum, and sometimes he’s right. his rough, calloused hands grip your hips hard, but his kisses are sweet.

finnick odair is cocky and wicked. he’ll spoil you in rich food and flashy jewelry, pick you up and carry you to bed. he knows every way to make you cum, but he purposefully teases, keeping you on edge, desperate and begging for him. he fucks you good, holding your hand as the mattress creaks with his every thrust. he laughs when you whine for more, but obliges, fucking harder, deeper. after you’ve both cum, he’ll drag you to bathe with him, washing your hair for you before carrying you back to bed.

coriolanus snow is arrogant and selfish. he smirks at you across the room, entices you with those blue eyes. he gets you into a quiet room, maybe even a closet, and pins you against the wall. he sucks marks into your neck and chest, all teeth, before hoisting you up, his hands on your ass, fucking you rough and fast. he finishes inside you, panting. after he’s finished, maybe he’ll ask your name, maybe promise to see you again.

sejanus plinth is devoted and careful. he’s gentle, mostly, but if you tell him that you like it rough, he will happily oblige. he likes to take it slow, building you up before he fucks you, using his fingers or his tongue to get you nice and wet. if you ask nicely, he’ll even let you cum before his cock has even left his pants. but once he’s inside you, he’s feral. messy, desperate kisses, gently squeezing at your throat. after all is said and done, he’ll kiss your neck where his fingers once were, tell you he’s sorry for being rough, that you’re perfect.

#peeta mellark x reader #gale hawthorne x reader #finnick odair x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #sejanus plinth x reader #the hunger games #thg blurbs #ophelia’s blurbs

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hs-is-loml · 1 year ago

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hot take that shouldn’t really be a hot take:

you are meant to fall for young coriolanus in TBOSAS because that is what makes him gain power is his ability to be charismatic and manipulative. he’s devious and conniving but his attractiveness and charm is what makes you over look how cunning and calculated he truly is. everything he does is wily and to benefit himself more than anyone else. so yes, by all means don’t fall for the man for what he later does to finnick and peeta and literally hundreds of other. just maybe realize that’s the whole point of coriolanus snow, and how he rose to power.

not to mention that tom blyth absolutely ate this role up for how well he portrayed the manic transition of coryo to snow

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #snow #president snow #finnick odair #peeta mellark #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #coriolanus snow x reader #thg #tom blyth #hot take #blurb #coriolanus x you

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quiet-out-there · 1 year ago

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Please

summary: When Finnick notices how the reader's drink has been spiked with sex pollen at one of President Snows Balls, he and Peeta make a plan to save her from the special services the victors sometimes provide for the capitol. Finnick causes a distraction, while Peeta makes sure to take the reader away to safety, only the plan doesn’t go accordingly, and ends up with a sex crazed reader stuck on a closet.

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader

Warnings: sexual content, slight dubious consent, fingering, lots of praise, dom!Peeta??, reader under sex pollen

Notes: This is my first attempt at a shortfic about Peeta Mellark, as I have been quite obsessed with him lately This story is a short fic with little to no plot, so, enjoy the smut ;) For any weird grammar mistake, feel free to correct me for as inglish isn't my first lenguage!

Word count: 6.6k

Giff: @xiaolanhua

Finnick cursed out loud, grabbing the attention of some of the most important and exclusive people in Panem who were nearby. They began to chuckle and whisper among themselves in return, clearly enjoying the sudden outburst of District’s four beloved victor. Peeta, on the other hand, quickly realized something was wrong, politely ending the conversation with an all too eager sponsor who was in the midst of trying to convince him to go back to her room together. She was old, caked with so much makeup her features were almost unrecognizable. Staring at her for too long made Peeta feel uneasy, as if he were in a fever dream, where everything was washed in an eerie distortion, almost normal but not quite.

“Are you okay?” was the first thing he said once he got to Finnick’s side, standing beside one of the absurdly food collapsed tables at one of the ballrooms corners. He was holding a glass filled with sweet smelling liquor, his hand so tightly wrapped around it his knuckles were turning white. Peeta was sure it was going to burst into pieces in just a matter of seconds, so he quickly reached for Finnick’s hand, surprised to find little to no resistance as he took the glass away and set it on the table. The motion seemed to snap Finnick out of whatever trance he had been in, blinking at Peeta as if he were just now assessing his presence there.

“What?” was all he could manage to say, his eyes returning their focus to something far away, the feather of a muscle twitching as he grounded his jaw.

“What's wrong?” Peeta pushed, following the man's gaze in an attempt to understand what he was seeing that was making him so mad. Finnick had a temper, Peeta knew that, but it was always tightly concealed in that calm and easy-going facade he portrayed, his armor against everything. It took quite an effort to make him lose his composure.

“(y/n)” He answered, voice made of steel. Peeta frowned, eyes desperately trying to find what was going on, his chest tightening at the mention of your name, “They dosed her drink with an aphrodisiac powder.”

Peeta’s whole body froze, his eyes snapping back to the man beside him.

“What do you mean aphrodisiac powder, what the hell even is that?”

But Peeta could already imagine what it meant, what they were doing it for. Anger rose in his blood like fire, pumping into his heart, beating so fast it was starting to make it hard for him to breathe -

“Finnick” He managed to get out, hand coming up to grab the man’s arm, turning him to face him.

“I recognized this man talking to Snow earlier” Finnick began, his eyes closing as one of his hands came to massage his temple, as if a piercing headache was making it hard for him to think “He is the one who arranges the customers for-,” he took a deep breath before opening his eyes to meet Peeta's wide ones “ the special services from the victors the capitol sometimes provides”

His stomach churned in a way that threatened to make Peeta vomit every expensive item of food he had ingested tonight, right on the pristine marble floor. He knew exactly what Finnick was talking about. Haymitch had told him about this business Snow ran, a way for him to further control the victors, make them pay for whatever rule breaking he deemed was done on their game, threatening their family’s life as a cost of it. But (y/n) had won fair, she had outsmarted the players, not the capitol, she didn't deserve this, she-

“I have been watching this man all evening, analyzing his moves, trying to figure out who Snow had sold to him,” Finnick continued, interrupting Peeta’s running thoughts. “It was easy enough to discover, with the way he has been practically stalking (y/n) all night.” An exasperated sigh escaped his lips “But something is different this time. He hasn't come up to talk to her and she is completely oblivious to him, as if she doesn't know what Snow has done, as if she hasn't been warned what would happen if she denies”

Her family, massacred. Peeta swallowed, his throat painfully dry all of a sudden.

“That’s when I noticed what he was doing” Finnick’s hands bawled into fists by his sides, his eyes returning to scan the room before returning to Peeta’s, “They are drugging her, filling her with aphrodisiac poison that will make her unable to think of anything more than sex. They are making her into a puppet so they can take advantage of her, avoiding the resistance, the threats, the compromise on her part.”

“That is sick” Peeta breathed out, feeling lightheaded and utterly disgusted.

“People here in the capitol are absolutely rotten” Finnick spat, “I have been a victim of that drug before. It is so potent, it makes it physically painful to deny sex, it forces the body to need it on a primal level, triggering an almost survival instinct.”

Peeta cringed at the thought of Finnick, barely a teen, being a subject to all this.

“We have to do something, we have to save her” Peeta rushed through whispered words, his eyes looking around them in search of anyone who could be eavesdropping on their conversation.

“Yes” Finnick agreed, “But we must do it inconspicuously, or they could end up hurting her even more.”

“What is your plan?” Peeta’s breathing eased a little, his chest loosening at the reminder of Finnick’s clever mind.

“Once the effects of the drugs kick in, she will quickly excuse herself to the bathroom. There, I will intercept the man, distract him. Make a big scene if I must.” The ghost of a smirk pulled at Finnick’s lips at the thought, before it was quickly wiped away as he continued “You will find (y/n) and get her the hell out of here, but not to her room. They will be probably expecting her there” Peeta shuddered at the thought, nodding at Finnick.

“Where is she now?” Peeta inquired, his eyes returning to the crowd, unable to find the girl in question.

“Near Snow’s fountain, to the left side of the room. She is talking to a man with a neon green top hat.”

Peeta found you instantly then, the loud pounding of his heart in his ears drowning any other sound. You looked so beautiful, he couldn't help to notice, with your hair pulled away from your face in an elegant updo, filled with colored jewels that caught and reflected every light on the ball room, like a beacon. Your dress was made of black jewels as well, hugging every hill and dip of your body in an exquisite way, a slit on the side of your hip revealing the tan skin of your right leg. And your smile, so bright as you laughed at some joke the man before you had uttered, it took his breath away- until he realized how your chest was moving rapidly, as if the air entering your lungs wasn't enough, at how your skin was covered in a sheen of sweet, some stray away hairs curling around the nape of your neck and around your face, and at the way your hands had begun to tremble, hiding the away by clasping them tightly behind your back.

“It is starting,” Finnick commented, straightening his shoulders as if preparing himself to move. Peeta did the same, struggling to calm his fast beating heart.

You offered the man another smile, this one polite, apologetic. The man dipped his head and moved out of your way, allowing you to begin moving into the crowd of people dancing on the dance floor, towards the other side of the room, where the bathrooms were located. Finnick nodded at Peeta, signaling to start moving the same way as you. They got to there first, and Finnick leaned forward to whisper right on Peeta’s ear, in a gesture that seemed like a warm goodbye from a friend to the ignorant eye.

“I will go for the man, you grab (y/n) and leave right away, don't waste time on explanations until you are both alone and safe.”

Peeta nodded, clasping his back as reassurance. He could do this, he told himself, willing his body to calm down, to gather his anxious thoughts.

Before Finnick finally pulled away, he added in a tense, almost somber tone, so lowly his words almost got forgotten among the chattering crowd.

“Do what you must to help her, she’ll be glad it was you and not someone else.”

Peeta’s brows furrowed in confusion, but before he could ask what Finnick meant by that, he was already being swallowed by the crowd, disappearing among the vibrant colors, the moving bodies, the discordant music that made Peeta’s teeth greet in discomfort.

Peeta moved onto the side of the bathroom door, acting as if his shoelace had been untied and crouching down to fix it, avoiding anyone starting a conversation with him that could complicate his inconspicuous escape.

It only took a couple of minutes before he heard your voice,

“S-Sorry, excuse me please” You sounded breathless, words tight in your throat, as if the mere effort to get them out was painful.

Peeta got up then, instantly identifying you making your way out of the crowd in a desperate attempt to get to the bathroom. He walked up to you just as you took the door handle in your shaky hand, grabbing your wrist in a secure grip before pulling you along with him, without stopping to say anything. You gasped in shock, stumbling slightly over your feet before you could manage to keep up with his fast pace. You pulled at his hand in an attempt to be let go, but he ignored you, mind only focused on one thing-

The exit door, only a couple of steps away

“Peeta!” you exclaimed as you finally recognized him, struggling to maintain a composure, smile wavering between a frown and a grimace of pain “What the fuck are you doing?” you whispered, feeling as though your vision was shaking, not being able to see people anymore, just shapes and colors merging together in a sickening spin-

You were going to throw up.

“I’m going to be sick” you pleaded, arm now falling limp on his firm grip, deciding to leave fate in his hands- unable to do anything to resist, and knowing deep down Peeta would never hurt you.

Peeta’s heart squeezed on his chest as he heard you, and he opened his mouth to explain -what? he did not know- anything to make you feel better, to help you understand what was going on,

But then a crushing sound vibrated across the room, making people gasp and scream in shock, their attention now focused on the other side of the room.

Finnick

Peeta let out a sigh of relief as he got to the entrance door, which was luckily open, not a peacekeeper in sight. He didn't waste a second to pull you out towards the main hall, where the elevator to the victor's rooms was.

“It will be alright (y/n), I promise” Peeta finally spoke, his voice just above a whisper, as he continued his way with unbreakable determination, both of your steps resonating against the glass floor the only sound in the spacious room “just trust me, okay?”

You felt as if Peeta’s voice was coming from underwater, muffled and far away- But still managed to understand.

“Okay” You replied, unable to voice any other word running through your dizzy brain - Your heart, you realized, it was beating so fast you couldn't catch a breath, and your skin, it felt so uncomfortable, so tight against your body- you wanted to rip it out. And the heat, the fucking heat

Peeta’s hand freed your wrist as he pressed the elevator’s button in a frantic pace, his other coming up to grip your hip, pushing so you stood in front of him, blocking the view of your body with his.

You were so close now, bodies almost pressed together. His smell invaded you like the most intoxicating, addictive perfume you had ever sensed, tightening your chest in a silent hitch of breath - And his touch- so firm and strong, fingers pressing down on the overly sensitive flesh on your hip witch was barely covered in the thin material of your jeweled gown- it set flames through your veins

Peeta heard the rush of voices coming down the hall, right from where you had come, before he felt their quick heels clad steps coming closer. Whatever Finnick had done, it had set a commotion enough to make people begin to retreat to their chambers in a hurry.

His eyes snapped to the elevator, the bright gold number still stuck on the 7th floor, and he realized it wasn't going to come by quick enough - They were already nearing the corner, they were going to catch the both of you, they were going to take you away and hurt you-

He secured your hand in his before he began to pull you further down the hall, your feet struggling to find their footing but managing not to stumble over them as you followed him. There was only one door in the hall, right on the end of it, a black metal block painted in bright gold. Peeta didn't bother to knock on it as he grabbed the handle, twisting it at the same time he pushed the side of his body on it to open it- and to his surprise and utter relief- it did. He didn't waste a second to push you inside, head twisting back one last time to see down the hall, where he noticed a couple of people beginning to appear, their vibrant colors striking against the pristine white walls and gold floor details.

He closed the door behind him, leaving out the light from the hall, engulfing you both in complete darkness. He let out a long breath, his head dropping back against the door frame, a chuckle leaving his chest before he could stop it.

You tried to blink back the darkness, but your eyes were still struggling to adjust. Something was very wrong, you realized, as you couldn't seem to make the air from the space enter your lungs. You stepped back from the man in front of you in an attempt to gain some distance and ground yourself, but you felt the cool jab of metal meet your back- you twisted on the spot, freeing your hand from Peeta’s as you extended your arms in front of you. And you felt, to your utter horror, how on every side you were met with metal railings or the cool feeling of painted concrete walls.

The space was tiny. A closet, of some sorts, you figured with a leap of your heart.

“I can't” you gasped aloud, one hand coming up to clutch your chest, pulling at the absurd number of necklaces that had been wrapped around your neck- it felt as if you were choking “I can't breathe.”

Peeta’s hands were instantly extended in search of you, his eyes wide in an attempt to see something, but only being met with darkness.

“It is okay, hey, I’m here” He whispered, one of his hands brushing your shoulder. The contact made electricity run down your body, and you twisted in an attempt to get away from his touch, managing only to bump into the railing so hard, their contents began to fall onto the floor-

Peta cursed under his breath at the loud sound of stuff crashing against the glass floor, his heart drumming onto his chest as he felt the footsteps from outside alarmingly close.

“Hey, hey calm down” He tried again, his hand grabbing your shoulder this time. And you tried to twist away again, desperate to get away from the warmth, the heat of his body, his burning touch-

it was too much, too much

You pushed into the railing again making it crash against the wall in a loud bang.

“(y/n)” Peeta rushed, his voice tight on his chest in anxiousness. But you didn't hear him, wouldn't hear him, needing to get away, desperately trying to do so-

Peeta felt the voices outside begin to wonder what those noises down the hall were, their loud cackling dimming down as if to hear better. He knew it was only a matter of seconds before somebody came up to investigate,

“Calm down” He ordered, voice low, almost a murmur. You could feel it vibrating on your chest, “We have to stay quiet, or they will find us.”

You tried to reason with his words, to obey, to understand what the fuck was going on - but then a pang of pain shot down your belly, taking the air from your lungs in a rush of a breath, before settling in a tight coil of aching between your legs. It made a whine fall from your lips before you could stop it, eyes closing as you hugged your body tightly.

Peeta’s heart stopped when he felt nearing footsteps, arms shooting forward when he heard your loud whine of pain at the same time, determined now to make you quiet. One hand found your hip as the other your arm, and he didn't waste a second to twist your bodies, so you stood with your back pressed to his chest. One of his strong arms circled your waist, locking you into him in a grip so tight you couldn't move an inch, as his other hand came to your face, palm pressing onto your mouth to silence any noise.

And just like that, your senses cleared, they sharpened, they focused and circled on only one thing-

Him.

The way his warm body was pressed to yours, the feeling of his strong muscled arm wrapped around your waist, the way his chest pushed against you in every intake of breath, the feeling of his heart pounding so loud and fast against your back- and his god damn smell, so sweet and dark and intoxicating- it made the coil deep within your core tighten painfully, breath hitching on your throat.

Peeta strained his ear to hear whatever was going on outside, the footsteps stopping just inches away, its shadow casting beneath the door frame. But it was so hard to concentrate on anything else that the way for body felt pressed to his - so warm he thought you might be having a fever- and the way you were breathing so hard and fast, you were panting against his hand- but he could notice, he could see how much you were trying to do as he said, to stay still and be quiet, even if you were in so much discomfort

“That’s it, calm down” He whispered, lowering his head so his lips were pressed to your ear, making sure only you could hear him. “You are doing so good” he praised, the words warm against your skin.

The way he phrased those words was enough to make a shiver run through your spine and make your head spin with desire. You hadn't noticed the way you had begun to press further onto him, almost as if desperate to be closer, to feel him even further. And his hand, his fucking hand had begun to rub the side of your waist in a comforting way,

You were melting. But you wanted more, you needed more-

Peeta tried to ignore the way you had begun to move against him, how your breathing had changed to something deeper, how your mouth let slip little whines and moans against his hand. He knew it was the drug's effect, he knew you couldn't help it, he knew he had to maintain a clear head, to take care of you and make sure you stayed safe.

And then you felt it, as you ground your body against his, you felt something hard begin to press against your ass. It made something in you snap, a need so desperate and maddening, it made fire rush through your veins as if boiling from the inside out- it made your brain drunk and fuzzy with desire- and the pain, the excruciating coil tightening between your legs, it was too much, too much.

Peeta felt your hand suddenly grip his, moving his arm away from your hip. He felt almost in a daze, as if unable to stop you as you moved it down your body. His breath hitched in your ear as you pressed his hand right between your legs, where you needed him the most. The thin material of your jeweled gown was the only thing standing between his fingers and your pussy- he could feel how warm you were, and cursed aloud when he noticed also how wet.

“We can't” He whispered; voice slightly breaking as he felt you increase the pressure of his fingers “They have drugged you with an aphrodisiac. You are not thinking straight-”

A moan slipped through your lips, muffled by his hand still pressed against your mouth. Peeta's eyes strained on the doorframe, noticing the shadow gone. He almost sighed in relief, until he felt the loud chuckles coming from outside-

they were still there.

Your brain couldn't comprehend anything else but the need for him. A need that was becoming so strong, the pain was unbearable. You could feel tears swell in your eyes as you gasped, your other hand coming up to push away his own from your mouth.

“Please, Peeta, I can't take this anymore- I” you choked on a whine when you felt his other hand slip from away from your body “-I need you, please, just help me.”

You pleaded, head dropping back against his shoulder in utter defeat.

Peeta cursed again, eyes tightening shut as he searched for the will to contain himself, to find a way to reason with you, to make you understand how this was so wrong-

But then he remembered Finnick's words. ‘Do what you must to help her,’ what did he even mean? Was this the only way you could go through this? You would hate him for it, Peeta thought, taking advantage of you like this- but you were in pain, you were literally crying and shaking in his arms, he couldn't stand seeing you like this, it was breaking him-

“Please” you whined, your own hand coming between your legs to relieve some of the pressure there in a futile attempt- you felt absolutely nothing.

“Okay” he murmured against your ear, telling it more to himself than to you, making up his mind. “How can I help you, (y/n), just tell me how.”

You sigh in relief at his words, closing your eyes in anticipation.

“Touch me” you whispered, breathless “Please.”

Peeta felt lightheaded with the way you were so desperate, so needy for him. In any other circumstance, he would have given away with the first please ever uttered from your beautiful lips- because you were always so composed, so strong, so unwavering- hearing you like this was making him almost as desperate for you as you were for him.

“Please what?” Peeta couldn't help to reply, his voice just as breathless as yours, beginning to move his arms, tentatively resting his hands on your hips.

You groaned in frustration, beginning to push yourself away from him so you could turn around to face him when you felt one of his strong hands spread across your abdomen, pushing you right back against him. He was so strong, you couldn't help but think, imagining his hands pushing and pulling other parts, handling you as if it were nothing-

“Please, Peeta” you begged.

Peeta melted at the sound of those tight words in your throat.

“So polite” he praised, finally moving one hand to the side of your hip where the slit of your gown began. His callous warm fingers met your bare skin there and you sighed in content “Such a good girl” he whispered, mouth pressing down just below your right earlobe, in that sensitive spot that felt to good it sent tingles down your body and made you moan out loud before you could stop it-

Peeta’s other hand instantly moved to cover your mouth once again, roughly pushing your head back against his shoulder.

“What was that?” A woman’s voice exclaimed from the hall outside, filled with delight “Sounds like someone’s having a good time!”

Peeta cursed on your ear, the words sounding even more coarse coming out of his mouth.

You whimpered, unable to take the pain between your legs any longer- your heart was beating so fast, it seemed as if you couldn't catch your breath, your skin so taut you thought it might snap over your bones, and the heat- you thought you might pass out

“Shh it’s okay” Peeta tried to calm you, his eyes glued to the shadows now outside of your door. Had they figured someone was inside here? “Be quiet doll, you can do it.”

You nodded your head in a haze, desperate to show him you would do anything he said.

Peeta knew you couldn't take it any longer, practically limp in his arms, trembling in his grip. He took in a shaky deep breath before he began to move the hand on your hip underneath the surprisingly thin material of your gown. Your skin was so smooth and soft, and so, so warm- Peeta had to take a minute to just caress between your hip and upper thigh, savoring the feeling of your tender flesh beneath his rough fingers - before he heard your impatient cry from within his hand covering your mouth. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed the shadows beneath the door begin to move away, using the courage to finally dip his fingers between your thighs. His breath hitched when he noticed you didn't have anything under your gown, being met with your bare pussy right beneath his finger, hand freezing in place as the realization of what he was doing, and to whom, dawned on him.

He was about to fuck (y/n), districts four beloved 73rd hunger games victor.

“You are killing me” you mumbled against his palm, desperately pushing your hips forward in an attempt to increase the pressure of his fingers where you needed him most. So, he dipped his hand further, his muscled arm tensing over your belly as he did, bringing you flushed against him. And his fingers, ever so slowly, began to part your folds, his eyes closing as his head dropped down to lean on your shoulders at the feeling of your slick coating his fingers, smoothing his entrance. You bit his hand in an attempt to quiet the moan bubbling on your chest, head pushing back against his shoulder in an attempt to get a grip on yourself.

“So good” he murmured, lips tightly pressed to your ear “So good, so quiet.”

You could feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as he began to rub your wetness up and down, right over the bundle of nerves that send electric waves of pleasure down your body. One of your hands came down to grip his arm, pushing it down with further force- Peeta instantly knew what you wanted, what it meant- and he obliged, increasing the pressure and pace of his fingers.

The people outside began to cheer for something, the noise followed by clapping. Peeta didn't waste a second to remove his hand against your mouth, moving it down to your chin as he pushed your head further back, adjusting so his ear was right over your mouth-

“Let me hear you doll” He breathed, his fingers quickening their pace almost desperately so- feeling so good it made your toes curl and your thighs squeeze around his hand. And you moaned, so desperate and needy it would have embarrassed you if it weren't for the fact that that was exactly how you felt for him.

“Peeta” you choked out in a gasp right on his ear, and that was enough to make Peeta lose his mind, a low groan escaping from his own lips, the sound so deep and hoarse it vibrated on his chest.

You could feel his erection pressed on your backside, so hard you knew we wanted you just as much at the moment. And you wanted to feel him, God, it was all you could have ever wanted, so you started to move your hand to your back- until you felt his hand suddenly stop, making you freeze in place. You could hear his ragged breathing, feel his heart pounding against your back-

“Look at me,” He whispered, interrupting the sudden silence. You opened your eyes, surprised to notice how they had adjusted to the darkness, able to see the outlines of the door, the metal railing filled with cleaning supplies- you were in fact, in a closet. And then you looked up, finding his beautiful face before you.

He was so handsome; you had noticed that the first time you saw him. With his big, deep brown eyes and breathtaking smile. And now, with his messy blonde hair, his parted soft lips, his completely darkened eyes-

He looked delicious.

“You are absolutely beautiful” he murmured, the hand on your chin moving up to cup the side of your face. “(y/n)” he continued, a deep breath leaving his lips, fanning your own. You wanted to taste him so badly “You are not on your right mind, this is not what you want.”

You shook your head, exasperated.

“I want you so badly” you voiced in a shuddering breath “If you don't touch me right now, I think I might die.”

You used his stun position to free from his grasp, finally turning so you were face to face. He looked completely disheveled, his white tux discarded on the floor, and his matching shirt completely wrinkled, the first buttons torn and revealing a slit of tanned skin.

“I-” He began but you couldn't resist any longer, shutting him up with a kiss.

His hands were on you instantly, pulling at your hips to position you flush against him, to then wrap his arms around your waist to lock you in place. Your hand snaked to the back of his head, where you tangled them on his hair, slightly pulling it just to hear him groan again- it felt like fuel to the fire inside you. You used the moment to deepen the kiss, meeting his warm tongue inside his mouth. The kiss was desperate, hungry, lips moving feverishly against each other.

Peeta forgot about everything else, about the people on the other side of the door, about getting caught- he could only think about you, about feeling you against him, your lips on his, your tongue on his mouth- he wanted more. His hands began to roam your body, testing, feeling, kneading your soft flesh in a grip so strong you knew would certainly leave bruises. And then they were on your ass, squeezing so tight you moaned against his mouth- and he was lifting you up from the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist-

“I need you” You panted against his lips, finally breaking the kiss. The coil in your lower stomach feeling even more unbearable, the pain was making you see white dots in the corner of your vision “I need you inside me.”

Peeta leaned his forehead to yours, attempting to regain control of himself, to think straight. He sat your body against the railing, separating enough so he could see your face, meet your eyes.

And he stared at you, almost in awe before he spoke again, dropping his head back as if to force himself to stop doing it any longer.

“Your eyes” he breathed out, “they shine so black when you are hot for me.”

You cupped his face between your warm hands, forcing him to face you as you once again begged-

“please”

Peeta wanted nothing more than to oblige - he would have lifted your gown and fucked you right there against the railings- but he knew he couldn’t. He couldn't, not when you were under the effects of a drug that altered your senses, your reasoning.

So, he compromised. Not doing anything was torture to you, or so he told himself, moving so one of his arms could fit between both of your bodies while the other began to lift your gown and gather it just over your hips.

“Are you going to be a good girl and stay quiet?” He panted, his ears once again registering the commotion outside. Seemed like they moved the party to the hall, he realized, glad that the noise had gone louder, hiding what was going on in the little storage closet down the corridor.

“Yes” you whimpered, unable to contain the tears swelling in your eyes due to the pain, and the excitement-

Such a wreck for him, Peeta thought, brain drunk in desire.

“You are the one killing me, (y/n)” he murmured, holding your gaze with eyes so intense you thought he might be looking through you.

And then his hand was between your legs again, slowly rubbing your wet folds, surprised at how they were more so than before. He quicken up the pace faster this time, taking his time in enjoying every sinful sound falling from your lips, your head falling back to lean against the railing- you gasped when you felt his other hand grip your chin, thumb and index finger pressing against your cheeks and forcing you to open your eyes

“Look at me” he panted, and you thought you might cum just by the way he was looking at you with so much hunger-

And then you gasped in shock as without a warning two of his fingers slipped inside you, his thumb continuing to rub on your sensitive clit. Pleasure shocked through your body making you involuntary shake against the rails, the pressure on your lower abdomen coiling impossibly tighter-

“I'm gonna-” you whined, head leaning forward to try and find somewhere to lean on, but Peeta’s grip held you there on place, forcing you to face him.

“Say please” He breathed, lips hovering over yours, his fingers moving in and out of you with the perfect pressure, the perfect pace, and his thumb-

“Peeta” you whimpered.

He could feel how close you were, how your walls clenched around his fingers in the most delicious way- he thought he was close himself to climax, just by the way your face scrunched with pleasure, how your body became undone under his touch-

“Come on doll, ask nicely” He encouraged, needing to hear you beg, just one more time.

“Please” you managed moan.

And he was merciless about it, plunging his fingers into you harder, faster, his thumb rubbing against your clit feverishly, curling his fingers and hitting just the perfect spot-

You become undone with his name on your lips, waves of pleasure erupting from deep within your tummy as the tight coil finally released, toes curling and body jerking. He slowed the pace of his fingers as he continued to ride you out of your orgasm, your shaking body finally collapsing into his, blind with gratification and exhaustion.

Peeta panted against your ear as he finally removed his fingers from inside you, proceeding to hold you tight against him before he lowered you from the railing back onto your feet- until he quickly realized you couldn't stand on your own, arms wrapping securely around your waist and across your back to hold you in place, your own coming up to snake around his neck in a solid embrace.

“Are you alright?” He whispered, his breathing still ragged, heart pounding loudly against your chest pressed to his- you on the other hand, were completely crashing, blood pressure dropping, white stars dancing in the back of your close eyelids.

“hmm” you hummed, struggling to remain conscious.

“I think they left” Peeta voiced his thoughts, frowning in concentration as he listened for any noise outside- but it was completely quiet, he soon realized.

You didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, brain completely fogged with satisfaction, body finally out of pain and completely relaxed on his arms, as if meant to be there all along.

“(y/n)” Peeta shook you, his tone finally above a whisper “Hey, I need you to stay here yeah? stay with me.”

You tried to nod but your head just fell limp against his shoulder-

He smelled so fucking good.

“Thank you?” He replied, amusement clear on his breathless words.

You hadn't realized you had voiced your thoughts out loud, a soft chuckle scaping your lips.

“You are completely out of it, aren't you” He sighed, leaning over you so he rested his chin on top of your head, attempting to calm himself down.

You frowned at the height difference, moving your feet, and realizing you were barefoot, heels completely lost somewhere in the tiny closet.

Once Peeta finally could catch his breath, heart in a slightly normal pace, he stepped closer to the door, your almost limp body secure in his strong arms. He pushed the side of his face flat against the cool metal, concentrating on identifying any sound that could indicate someone on the other side but-

Nothing. Silence.

“Okay” He murmured, nodding “Okay, we are going to come out, yes?”

You mumbled a reply, what? you didn't know, but it was enough to make Peeta nod again. You felt him loosen his grip on you making you react on clinging to him with all your strength, desperate to avoid the loss of contact.

“Hey, I’m here, I won't leave you” He assured you, hands pushing you by the hips to create some space between the two- and you were so completely weak, barely registering your body at all, that you couldn't avoid the separation.

You frowned, opening your mouth to try and object, when you were suddenly being lifted from the ground and up on his arms again, this time in bridal style, with one of his arms holding under your knees as the other secured around your back.

“Romantic” you gushed, chuckling again.

Peeta rolled his eyes, sheepish smile tugging at his lips, as he adjusted his body so his hand could twist the handle and open the door. He loosens a breath he didn't know had been holding as he registered the hall with quick assessing eyes, noticing it completely deserted.

You tried to blink at the sudden light, but it took just a couple of blinks before your eyes dropped closed again, as if the weight of them was impossible to overcome.

“Your room is not safe” He murmured, beginning to make his way to the elevator with you tightly held on to his arms “We will go to mine.”

You nodded, the pull of unconsciousness so strong you were sure it was only a matter of seconds before you were out- so you snuggled closer to him, wrapping your arms across his neck and positioning your face right at the nape of his neck, where his smell washed over you and his warmth seeped to your skin.

And just like that, you were out with a content smile plastered on your face.

#peeta mellark #peeta mellark smut #peeta mellark/reader #the hunger games peeta #peeta mellark fanfic #peeta smut #peeta x reader #peeta my beloved #peeta mellark x you #thg #peeta x reader smut #the hunger games smut #peeta mellark/you #peeta mellark imagine #ao3

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bruisedboys · 1 year ago

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peeta mellark !!!! who loves all your insecurities likes it’s breathing <3 and who worships the ground you walk on because you’re his sun!!

peeta who loves your stretch marks even if you don’t. he’ll run his hands over the soft ridges, up and down, over and over. he’ll kiss the ones on your hips when he’s feeling lovesick (which is always) and he likes how you shudder under his mouth, say his name all breathless while you bury your hands in his hair.

peeta who doesn’t care if you don’t shave, it couldn’t bother him less. and if you do want smooth skin, he’ll offer to do it for you, claiming, “I’m an expert, sweetheart. c’mon, can I please?” you never say no, you can’t. he’s unbelievably careful and kisses your knees when he’s done.

peeta who loves your tummy and your thighs!! he’s always got a big warm hand on your thigh, or one under your shirt, kneading your stomach. they’re kind of his favourite parts of you. the parts he can squeeze all his love into. his favourite thing ever is when you wear a big t-shirt to bed so he has easy access to your thighs and tummy <3 better if it’s his t-shirt, of course.

peeta who braids your hair back for you before you sleep, no matter how tired he is. you sit on a cushion on the floor while he sits on the bed, fingers gentle as they card through your hair. sometimes you’ll fall asleep against his knee. he never has the heart to wake you up, so he lifts you into bed himself. you wake for a handful of seconds, enough to murmur a sweet, “thank you, pete.” he kisses your forehead, his way of saying you’re welcome.

peeta who takes your face in his hands when you cry, endlessly gentle. he swipes at your hot tears with his thumbs and curls his fingers behind your ears. “did you know you’re pretty even when you cry?” he’ll say. “how do you do that, hm?”

peeta whose love is hot like stars and infinite. he’ll go to the moon and back for you and he’s not afraid to let you know that <333

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waitimcomingtoo · 2 years ago

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Isn’t it Just So Pretty

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader

Synopsis: you’re no longer sure of how much acting you’re doing when pretending to be in love with Peeta during the games

Masterlist

After hearing the announcement that two victors can go home if they’re from the same district, Peeta was the one thing on your mind. You knew he must be alive since you hadn’t seen his picture in the sky yet. And if he was alive, he must be by a source of water. You rushed to the lake, not caring how much noise you were making, and looked everywhere. Suddenly, something grabbed your ankle.

“Here to finish me off, sweetheart?”

“Peeta!” You exclaimed in surprise, not caring who heard you. You helped dig him out of the mud and moss he had buried himself under before pulling him into a tight hug.

“Oh my God. Peeta. Peeta.” You breathed in relief as you stroked his muddy hair. You heard Peeta sigh happily in your ear and melted into your touch.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” You told him as you cupped his face to look at him.

“You have?” Peeta asked in skeptical surprise.

“Didn’t you hear the announcement? We could both go home.”

“So you came back for me?” A smile tugged at Peeta’s lips.

“Of course I did.” You shrugged like it was obvious. To you, it was. But to Peeta, it was never obvious that someone would take care of him.

“Oh.“ Peeta smiled shyly and nodded his head. “Well, thank you.”

“Of course. Now let’s get you cleaned up.”

You fully pulled Peeta out of the mud and gently dragged him towards the river. Once you were hidden behind some bushes, you assessed his wounds.

“What happened?” You asked once you saw the gash on Peeta’s leg.

“Cato’s sword. He was mad that I tricked him.”

“Tricked him? How?”

“I purposefully led him away from you after your dropped the tracker jacket nest on us. Once he figured it out, he got me.” Peeta explained. You looked at him with great sympathy that before returning your attention to his wound. It was bad, much worse than anything you had yourself. And the fact that it happened because he was trying to protect you made you feel even worse.

“Is it bad?” Peeta asked when you hadn’t said anything for a while.

“No.” You lied. “Does it hurt?”

“No.” He lied back. You looked into his eyes and shook your head a little.

“You’re lying.”

“So are you.” He replied. You felt your face heat in embarrassment and nodded again.

“We need to keep this clean. I’m gonna have to wash your clothes.” You changed the subject.

“Okay.” Peeta agreed. You helped him lean his head back and washed the mud out of his hair until it was blonde again. Once that was clean, you moved on to his clothes. You shyly looked into his eyes and he nodded his head, giving you permission to tug off his shirt. You washed it and left it out to dry on a rock before returning to Peeta. He looked so helpless lying there on the rock you had laid him down on. He looked so vulnerable and gentle, not posing a threat to anyone. He didn’t deserve to be here. No one did, but especially not Peeta. He was a lover and a baker. He shouldn’t be bleeding out on a rock. You knelt down beside Peeta and he looked up at you with his gentle, puppy dog eyes. He was completely at your mercy now and you both knew it.

“Remember, we’re madly in love, so it’s all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it.” Peeta said to break the silence. You felt your breath hitch in your throat from the unexpected sentiment and before you knew it, you were leaning in to kiss his cheek. Peeta’s face heated up under your lips and when you pulled away, he looked just as surprised as you were over what had happened.

“Um, I should probably finish washing your clothes.” You stumbled over your words a little and refused to look Peeta in the eyes. You undid his button and zipper and started to tug his pants down.

“Wait.” He gulped before you could pull his pants over his wound. You stopped and looked into his eyes, feeling the same anxiety he was.

“I’ll go slow, okay?”

“Okay. Please be careful.” He said in a whiny voice. You couldn’t help but smile a little and nodded your head.

“I will. I promise.”

You tugged Peeta’s pants the rest of the way off and got a full view of his wound for the first time. It was much worse than it had looked through the rip in his pants. You felt helpless as you stared at it, knowing there was not much you could do at this point.

“How bad is it?” Peeta asked you. You stared at his wound, unblinking, until you felt tears come to your eyes.

“Sweetheart?” He asked in a soft voice. You finally looked up at him just a tear rolled down your face.

“How about that kiss?” He mouthed, making you burst out laughing. You cupped his face and pulled him into a long kiss to keep him calm.

“It’s not that bad. You’ll be okay. I promise.” You told him once you pulled away.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I never do. I’m gonna go wash these. Stay here.”

“I don’t have much choice, but okay. I’ll wait here and keep the lookout.” Peeta replied, making you laugh. You were about to leave with his pants when you noticed the hem of his boxers. They were filthy, caked with mud, and definitely teaming with infection. You knew they had to be washed, but that would leave Peeta with nothing. Peeta followed your gaze and connected the dots.

“You need my boxers, don’t you?” He asked. You avoided eye contact as you slipped off your backpack and handed it to him.

“Here. You can cover yourself with this.”

“I don’t care if you see me.” He chuckled.

“Maybe you can take them off and I’ll just close my eyes?”

“Look, I know it’s awkward, but I can barely move. There’s no way I can get these off by myself.” Peeta admitted. You knew he was right, but you were not prepared to see a naked man for the first time. Peeta quickly remembered the star crossed lovers plot and cleared his throat.

“Plus, it’s not like you’ve never seen me naked before.” He followed up, looking into your eyes to signal you to play along.

“Right.” You quickly nodded. You got Peeta’s boxers off as quickly as you could with as little eye contact as possible and ran away with them once they were off. You washed them and left them out to dry, giving him your jacket to cover himself in the mean time. Once his clothes were dry enough, you carefully dressed him. You then applied leaves to his wound the way Rue had taught you.

“Okay. We’re in good shape. But I want to get you somewhere less open. This is the biggest water source so the Careers could be back any day now.”

“How are we gonna move? I can’t walk.” Peeta reminded you.

“It’s okay. I’ll carry you.” You shrugged. Peeta laughed a little and held up his arms like a toddler. You gently pulled him off the ground and scooped him up so that you could carry him. He was pretty light since he hadn’t been eating and you had gained some muscle while training for the games. You carried Peeta through the woods as quietly as possible.

“I bet all the people in 12 are laughing at us.” Peeta said after a minute, making you laugh.

“Yeah? How come?”

“Because you’re the big strong hero and I’m the damsel in distress that needs to be carried.”

“Who cares what they think? We’re doing what we have to do to survive.” You shrugged and continued walking. Peeta went quiet for a minute as he thought back to the kiss you’d shared a few hours ago. It was real to him, but he didn’t know what it meant for you.

“Right.” He said after a beat of silence. You could tell something was on his mind but decided not to push it. Instead, you carried him to a nearby cave and gently laid him down inside. You let Peeta rest while you covered the entrance of the cave with leaves to keep yourselves hidden. You then returned to Peeta’s side and brushed the hair off his forehead.

“Are you comfortable?”

“As comfortable as I could be in this situation.” Peeta said through a strained laugh.

“Then we should get some sleep.” You suggested.

You pulled your sleeping bag out of your backpack and helped Peeta into it. You climbed in on his good side and cuddled into him.

“This is nice.” Peeta said quietly. “I never thought I’d ever be this close to you.”

You smiled and draped an arm over his torso to pull him in. It didn’t take him long to fall asleep, but you stayed awake all night and kept eyes on the entrance of the cave. You were exhausted by the time he woke up the next morning, but you didn’t let him know that. You put a hand on his forehead and felt that it was slightly cooler than the dah before.

“I’m gonna go get you some water.” You told him and tried to get up.

“Wait.” He caught your hand, making you stop.

“Please don’t leave.” He said in a soft voice. His doe eyes were staring into yours pleadingly and it took all your strength to say no.

“You need water.” You insisted. “I’ll just be right outside.”

“Please don’t go.” Peeta whined, sounding like he might start to cry. You knew he’d been lying by the river for days, bleeding out and knowing he could be killed any minute. Now that he was finally with you, it probably terrified him to be left alone again. You felt sympathetic towards Peeta and leaned in to kiss him again. You let it linger for as long as he needed.

“I’ll be right back.” You whispered once you pulled away.

You left the cave, gathered some water for Peeta, and purified it before heading back to him. When you reached the cave, a parachute was waiting for you outside. You gasped and grabbed it before running inside. He had fallen asleep again in your absence so you bent down to kiss him awake.

“Peeta, Peeta, Peeta. Wake up.” You said as you peppered kissed all over his face until he woke up.

“What? What happened?” Peeta asked through a yawn.

“Look what Haymitch sent you.” You smiled and presented him the parachute.

“Food?” Peeta asked hopefully.

“Uh huh. Soup.” You nodded and got the food ready for him.

“Wow. My first parachute.” Peeta smiled to himself. The parachute wasn’t really sent to Peeta. You had made that up because when you told him Haymitch had sent you a few things, he seemed sad that he hadn’t received anything. You wanted to cheer him up, so you told a little white lie.

“How are you feeling?” You asked as you helped him sit up.

“A little better. I think my fevers breaking.”

“That’s great. I would love to get you to eat something.”

“I’m really not hungry.” Peeta admitted, making you freeze. Not having an appetite despite not eating in days was not a good sign.

“Please? Just a bite?”

“No. If only there was something you could do to persuade me.” Peeta sighed, making you laugh endearingly. You leaned in to kiss Peeta and he met you halfway. He kissed you for as long as you let him before pulling away.

“Suddenly, I’m starving.” Peeta said, making you laugh. You carefully spoon fed him the soup and felt his forehead when you were done.

“Damn it.” You hissed.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re burning up again. I thought you were getting better.” You started to panic and sat back on your knees to think. Your mother or sister would know exactly what to do here, but you didn’t.

“It’s okay. Maybe I’m just warm from the sleeping bag.” Peeta tried to calm you down.

“Maybe. Let me check your leg.” You checked his leg and just as you suspected, it looked worse.

“Damn it!” You screamed and got off the floor. You went over to the wall of the cave and pressed your forehead against it as you cried in frustration.

“We need medicine. Not soup. You won’t get better without medicine. Why isn’t anyone sending medicine?” You cried and tugged at your hair.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Peeta said calmly.

“It’s not okay!” You shouted. “The leaves aren’t working. Why aren’t they working?”

“Maybe the infection is just too deep. It might’ve been a lost cause before you even found me.” Peeta voiced his deepest concern, one that you both shared.

“No. There’s no way you survived this far to get wiped out by an infection. You survived Cato’s blade. I’m not gonna let you die over the infection that came after it.”

Peeta stayed quiet as you paced back and forth and tried to come up with a plan.

“We just need more sponsors. We need them to send us medicine so that you can get better. What can we do to get their attention?” You asked him.

“I think we’ve done everything already.” Peeta said regretfully.

“Then I’ll… I’ll- um. Uh….” You trailed off when no ideas came to mind.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I can’t fix this. I can’t fix you.” You started to freak out and dropped down to your knees. You buried your face in your hands and felt your entire body give up. You banged your fists on the ground in frustration before letting out a guttural sob.

“It’s okay.” Peeta assured you. “You’ve done as much as you could.”

“But it’s not enough.”

“It’s enough. It’s more than enough.” Peeta replied. He felt helpless as he watched you cry and tried to come up with a way to distract you from the inevitable doom he was facing.

“You know, I remember the first time I saw you.” He said, catching your attention.

“You do?” You sniffled and looked up at him.

“Uh huh. It was the first day of kindergarten. My dad pointed you out and said, “see that girl? I was gonna marry her mother.” He still seemed jaded by it after all those years. I watched you walk into school and ran in after you.”

“Your dad and my mom? Is that true?” You smiled a little and crawled over to him.

“Apparently they dated before she met your father. My dad used to grumble about the coal miner with the golden voice whenever he and my mom would fight.”

“Did that happen a lot?” You asked sympathetically as Peeta reached up to wipe your tears.

“My brothers and I used to try to separate them. He’d hit her. Then he’d hit us. Then we’d be silent for a few days. And then, it was like it never happened.”

“Until it happened again?” You assumed.

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Until it happened again.”

“I’m sorry, Peeta. I didn’t know you had it so bad.” You frowned and laid down on his chest.

“It’s not your fault. You’ve got your own troubles. Don’t worry about mine.” He said as he rubbed his hand up and down your back. You stayed with your head over his heartbeat for a while as you calmed down.

“I’m surprised you turned out the way you are.” You said after a minute.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re so kind. But your home life wasn’t kind you. I wonder where you get it from.”

“I don’t know. Maybe that’s just me.”

“Yeah. Maybe that’s just you.” You smiled and looked up at him. Peeta didn’t look at you, though. He had a far off look in his eyes as if he was thinking of something he couldn’t put to words.

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this anymore. It’ll be awkward when you go home.” You said to change the subject.

“I’m not going home.” He laughed softly. There was no self pity in his voice. He wasn’t trying to make you guilty. He genuinely believed that and had already accepted it.

“Peeta.” You said warningly.

“It’s okay. I know it. You know it. Even my parents knew it the day I left. I’ve said goodbye to them. They’re in the past now.” Peeta shrugged. He looked down at you and brushed some hair that had come loose from your braid off your forehead.

“All I see is you now.” He said softly. You stared at him in silence, never being good with words. You had so much you wanted to say to him, but the way he was looking at you made your mind go blank.

“After that first day that my dad pointed you out, I always looked at you. I remember the first day of school when the teacher asked if anyone knew the valley song. And your hand shot straight up. I followed you home that day. And every day after that.” Peeta recalled as he stared into your eyes.

“I didn’t know that.” You smiled softly.

“I used to watch you hunt from the bakery window.” He continued. “You were usually with Gale. But sometimes you’d go alone and I’d wonder what would happen if went outside and asked to go with you.”

“Why? So you could hunt?” You laughed in surprise.

“So I could be with you.” He said simply.

“Peeta.” You smiled guiltily. Peeta looked at you for long time before reaching up to touch your braid. He held it in his hands as if it was solid gold.

“I should’ve told you how I felt before the games. I feel so stupid for waiting until we were on opposing sides of a death match to tell you how much I care about you.”

“We’re not on opposing sides.” You shook your head.

“There’s only one winner.”

“I know. That doesn’t put us on opposing sides.” You told him. You stared into his eyes for a moment and reached out to touch his face.

“Nothing could.” You whispered. No matter how much it hurt him, Peeta sat up so that he could cup your face and kiss you. You kissed him back and wished you could close the curtains and shut the world out from this kiss. Even though the romance meant you would get more sponsors, that didn’t matter to you anymore. You knew the way you were feeling for him wasn’t an act anymore. You felt genuine love and you needed him to know that.

“I can’t lose you.” You pulled away to tell him.

“You won’t. Being here with you like this is enough to make me live through anything.” Peeta said as he rolled your broad between his fingers.

“I wish they weren’t watching. I wish it was just us.” You whispered and felt your eyes begin to water. Peeta looked you up and down and a doubtful look crossed his face.

“Do you?” He asked. He wasn’t fully skeptical, just hesitant in believing you. You nodded your head and Peeta seemed to believe you.

“Then it is just us.” He said simply. You couldn’t help but smile before leaning down to kiss home once more.

“I wish I knew how you felt before the games.” You whispered against his lips.

“It wouldn’t have mattered.”

“Yes it would’ve. We could’ve been like this. But safe.”

“You wouldn’t have liked me back. I had nothing to offer you. Nothing you needed, any way. You’re only thinking you would’ve liked me back because I don’t have any competition here.” Peeta said, again with no self pity on his voice. These were just things he knew to be true. And maybe they once were. But as you stared into his eyes now, you knew it wasn’t the truth anymore. You knew you loved him.

“You don’t have any competition anywhere.” You said softly.

“You’re just saying that.” He said with a disbelieving roll of his eyes.

“I’m not.” You insisted. You turned around to look at the camera you knew was behind you before leaning down to whisper in Peeta’s ear.

“I love you.”

When you pulled away, Peeta was watching your face very carefully. He was trying to see if you were just deceiving the cameras or actually professing your love for him. He looked so hopeful that he might cry if it turned out to be the former.

“Real or not real?” He asked, making you smile.

“Real.” You assured him. Peeta let his guard down and finally broke into the smile he’d been holding in. He tilted his head up so that you’d kiss him but pulled away a little just before your lips could touch.

“Promise?” He whispered.

“Promise.” You replied before pressing your lips to his.

#peeta mellark fluff #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark fanfiction #peeta mellark angst #peeta mellark x you #peeta mellark fanfic #peeta my beloved #peeta x reader #thg peeta

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a-aexotic · 2 years ago

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hey babes but could u write peeta and reader comforting eachother after they took down snow and everything back in 12 xx

—cw: unedited, depression, after war effects, injuries, angst/comfort trope, crying and kissing —a/n: i hope you enjoyed!!! pls reblog/comment to show ur support :)

Y/N WAS IN DISBELIEF. It was all over, everything was over. They succeeded, they won. But they still felt the same; alert, scared, broken. Y/N thought that when they won, they would be able to finally feel good again. They were still hurting.

Y/N was sitting in the hospital bed, sitting up as the nurses helped them with their injuries. There were burns and cuts everywhere, the nurses kept putting oils and stitches, and it stung but Y/N couldn't even flinch. The pain couldn't compare to what they were feeling inside.

After they left, Y/N was left alone with their thoughts and they couldn't bare that. They put on the slippers that were left at the edge of the bed and they walked through the halls. They were empty since it was late. They soon went back to their room and jumped slightly, seeing someone sitting at their bed.

Y/N relaxed seeing it was just their friend, Peeta Mellark. Peeta turned around, looking at Y/N.

"How are you feeling?" Peeta spoke out, his voice hoarse. Y/N shrugged, not sure exactly how they were feeling. They know what they should be feeling; joy, happiness, accomplished. But all they felt was grief and heartache.

"Not sure. You?"

"Me too."

There was calm silence. Y/N has known Peeta for a long time; she was his Gale. They've been friends for years, ever since they were kids. Y/N was his happiness and light, even after the games. They were his only source of genuine comfort. Even after the capitol captured him, no matter what they did, they could never take away how he felt about Y/N.

They both knew they didn't need to talk, but they were there if they needed to. Peeta slid his hand into their's, wrapping their fingers together and squeezing them.

Y/N sighed out loud, looking down at their lap. "I-I know what I'm supposed to be feeling. But I just don't... feel it."

Peeta nodded. "I don't we're able to. Not after what we've seen."

There was more silence before Peeta spoke again, "people died. A lot of them. Kids, elders. And I feel guilty. Shouldn't we have protected them?"

Y/N looked over at her best friend, sudden rage filling her system. She let go of his hand, grabbing his face. "Don't you dare say that. Don't- You shouldn't feel guilty, Peeta. You're just 18, you can't expect to save everyone. You tried, okay? We tried and we won."

Peeta's eyes started to water, sniffing. "But the kids, Prim-"

"We couldn't do anything, Peeta." Y/N's heart broke in half, her stomach filling with sickness. She felt exactly the way he was, but he didn't deserve it. "Peeta, my god. I am so sorry, I wish I could take away every piece of your pain and put into me. You don't deserve it."

Peeta let out a cry, pulling into Y/N and putting his head into their shoulder. Y/N put their hand on his back, drawing circles.

He cried for a while before he stopped and Y/N let him sit. "I feel broken beyond repair. I can't sleep and I can't stand being awake with my thoughts. It's a nightmare. I don't think I'll ever be okay."

"We will, Peeta. We will always be okay. You don't have to go through this alone, I'll always be here and I promise you, the pain will fade with time." Y/N spoke calmly, still holding onto him.

"None of this is your fault, Peeta. You saved everyone. No matter what you think, you're a savior. The voice in your head, that's telling you all these lies, isn't real. You're strong and amazing."

Peeta sniffled and nodded, trying to process what Y/N was saying.

"It's all okay now, I'm here. I won't let anyone hurt you anymore, I promise." Y/N was trying to believe what they were saying, as well. Peeta let go of Y/N, looking into their eyes as Y/N wiped his tears.

He slowly leaned in, placing a small kiss on Y/N's lips. They were tense at first, but quickly warming up to his lips. Peeta pulled away, looking at Y/N. They grabbed his hand, and leaned in again for a more passionate kiss.

They pulled away, their foreheads still connecting as they looked into each other's eyes, finding comfort in each other after years of torment.

#thg fandom #thg #thg fanfiction #thg x reader #the hunger games peeta #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games x you #the hunger games fanfiction #peeta mellark x you #peeta mellark x y/n #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark #thg peeta #thg peeta x reader

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darknight3904 · 1 year ago

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Animals

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ᴡᴀɴᴛꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴘᴏꜱɪᴛɪᴠᴇʟʏ ᴀɴɪᴍᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ɢᴇᴛꜱ ꜰᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ɢᴀᴍᴇꜱ.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ / ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ / ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴅɪᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴍ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴛ. ɪɴꜱᴛᴇᴀᴅ, ʜᴇ'ꜱ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴠᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʜᴏᴡ ꜰᴀʀ ʜɪꜱ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴛʀᴜʟʏ ɢᴏᴇꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴇʀ.

ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴀʜᴇᴀᴅ 18+ ᴏɴʟʏ: ᴍᴀʟᴇ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴜʀʙᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴘ ɪɴ ᴠ ꜱ��x, ᴄᴜɴɴɪʟɪɴɢᴜꜱ, ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx - ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴅᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪʀʟ- ꜱᴀ - ɪᴛ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ

ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ

ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʀᴜʟʏ ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ꜱᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ɢᴏ ᴇᴀꜱʏ ᴏɴ ᴍᴇ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʟʟʏ ᴏᴠᴇʀ 7ᴋ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ.

ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢꜱ ᴀɴɪᴍᴀʟꜱ ʙʏ ᴍᴀʀᴏᴏɴ 5, ᴍᴇᴅᴅʟᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʙʏ ᴄʜᴀꜱᴇ ᴀᴛʟᴀɴᴛɪᴄ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʙʟᴀᴍᴇ ᴍᴇ ʙʏ ᴛᴀʏʟᴏʀ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛ.

The last month and a half had been a whirlwind of emotions for Coriolanus. The 11th games had been a huge success. Not only had Capitol viewership skyrocketed but so did the districts, especially after huge viewing screens had been sent to the poorer districts. He was proud of what he and Gaul had been able to conjure up in her lab and he was proud of the warm reception it had gotten. Most of all though, he was proud of the new tech systems you had introduced and showed him. Sure, he had to deal with your flirting and pretty little shirts he wished he could rip off, but all of that had been worth the success of the 11th Hunger Games. Still, despite his feelings of success and accomplishment when people complimented him, something was missing, and he knew what it was.

You.

God, you were on his mind more than whatever shitty work he was supposed to be focusing on. During his waking hours, he found that you were dancing through his mind. It didn't help that you regularly came to the Department of War now to work. Your pretty hair and seductive outfits annoyed him to no end. Not to mention the fact that you were still with that fool, Aesop.

He'd like to imagine Aesop just disappearing one day to some unknown world and him taking the place of that ill-dressed fool. He wanted to be able to spin you around on the dance floor of all the gala's you attended with the plain featured man. He wanted to be able to be the only one to listen to the clicking of the pretty heels you wore. He wanted to be the only one for you.

Even now, at night, you haunted him. Of course, the soft thoughts of galas and pretty shoes had vanished now that he was tucked safely into his bed. He wanted you in the most sinful of way. Often, he'd entertain himself by fantasizing that you were truly there, pacing his hallway, and getting ready to open the door to his room and jump into bed with him. Coriolanus would spend his nights tangled in his sheets, pumping his cock and whining out your name, wishing you were there to help him finish. He could still hardly believe what had occurred at that restaurant weeks ago. What the hell was that? You had embarrassed him sure, but did you honestly think that was going to stop him from marking his claim on you? You were his, you always had been from the start.

Coriolanus wanted you in a way that was positively animalistic. His hand was rough against his cock tonight as his other hand ran over his chest, pulling at his nipples and pressing down at his stomach which wouldn't stop twitching whenever his fingers brushed his cock just right. What would you feel like under him? How pretty would you look when he held you down and slid himself inside you?It had been so long since you last warmed his bed that he could scarcely remember what you had felt like, sounded like, when he fucked you. Surely whatever his mind was conjuring up would be surpassed by the actual thing.

His legs kicked at the sheets that had wrapped around his legs as he spilled into his hand, a gasp of your name on his lips. He wished you were here with him. He wished you could be here so he could mark your pretty neck and chest up. God, he wanted to see tears spill from your eyes when he slid into your slick walls. He'd love to feel your nails bite into his back and mark him up, he wanted to wear your marks for all of Panem to see.

Maybe it was love, or perhaps just plain old obsession that was gripping at his mind. Either way, he knew that he'd have you, one way or another you were going to be his.

It was as he stood in the shower, cleaning off the filth that came with self-pleasure that the ideas came to him. Should he start with flattering you? Flowers each day or a nice dinner, one where you didn't yell at him so much. Or, maybe getting rid of Aesop was the best way to go about all this. Whenever Coriolanus saw the two of you, you were always so wrapped up in your "love" for the man. How would you ever realize that Coriolanus was the one for you if that ugly little leech was constantly blocking the view?

The view being him, of course. Who else would be worthy of your affection? Those other men you had and tried to play house with surely couldn't hold a candle to him. Coriolanus knew that he was the blueprint for a prospective partner. Now, all he did was to get you to see that in him again. He knew you would, eventually. All he had to do was play the game.

The first difference you noticed was actually thanks to Dr. Gaul. Despite her strange behaviors, she was highly observant.

"Mr. Snow is staring again." Dr. Gaul pointed out

"He's been staring for months. It doesn't bother me anymore." You sigh, annoyed that she was so invested in you and Coriolanus. Since when was she a romantic?

"I think this gaze will." She says her voice sending a chill through you. Why was this woman the scariest person in all of Panem?

You glance up from your work to meet Coriolanus' eyes from across the room. His eyes were, as usual, watching you. While they were normally that of a scorned puppy whose owner had stepped on its tail, Coriolanus' eyes now seemed hungry. Hungry for what exactly you weren't quite sure yet.

Dr. Gaul let out a delighted little giggle but moved away from your desk as you shot daggers back at the blonde man.

"You ought to take a photo, Coryo." You smiled

The lack of response from him was rather unnerving. It was as if he was studying you from his desk. Like he was committing the scene to memory.

Weeks passed and you begrudgingly ignored Coriolanus' gaze on you. Before you hadn't minded since he always looked at you with admiration and a saddened look of what could've been. Now, that look of determination and odd hunger was annoying you. Of course, you elected to ignore whatever he wanted until they started appearing.

Flowers.

Every day, a fresh bouquet of roses appeared on your desk. They'd be there, on your desk as soon as you entered Gaul's lab for the day. Where the hell did he get off on sending you flowers? Did he honestly think staring at you and sending pretty flowers from his Grandma'am's gardens was going to get you to forgive him? Did he not remember what he did? Cheating on you and then doing who knows what to poor Lucy Gray, and then denying it all? Coriolanus Snow was surely delusional if he thought you were going to take him back.

You scooped up the newest bunch from the pretty glass vase they sat in and tossed them into the little garbage can that sat next to your desk. A soft huff escaped your lips as you settled into your chair, Coriolanus' eyes were watching you again. Why did he even bother with the flowers if he watched you throw them away? The game had surely ended with the scene you put on at the restaurant months ago. So why was he still trying? What the hell was his ploy here? Whatever it was it was seriously beginning to get under your skin.

What really tipped you over the edge though happened on the first night of winter. It was the coldest day of the week and your day at work had been positively horrific. Dealing with Gaul's strange little quirks and the board meeting you had gotten stuck in for hours had been positively horrific. Not to mention Coriolanus had started planting red roses in your desk in addition to the normal daily bouquet.

To anyone else that might be romantic but it was driving you mad. The months of silence from him compounded with the roses was an insane combination. You wished he'd just open his mouth once and maybe say something rude so you could continue to ignore him and get rid of the feelings you felt whenever you unearthed another rose. Not to mention you hadn't been able to see Aesop in nearly two weeks since his birthday. It wasn't that you were ignoring him, your fatigue combined with his own responsibilities didn't make the best combination for a relationship.

You fell onto the couch, wishing that you didn't have to shower before going to bed. Your home was rather dark but something caught your eye. Down the hall, your bed, normally covered in a pretty blue bedspread your mother had picked for you when you moved looked odd.

Sure enough, something was wrong with it. Roses, hundreds of them sat, covering your bed so that the blue of the blanket below was gone entirely, covered in a sea of red. How the hell did he even get in here? You were on the 20th floor of the building so he couldn't have climbed in, right? Did you leave the door unlocked? Oh god was the door even locked when you came home? You couldn't remember as you checked the locks on your window in your room. Then, as you were moving to push all the damn roses off your bed something little caught your eye. A single paper swan sat on your dresser, nestled between your perfume bottles and hair brush. Beside it, a note was folded neatly almost as if he'd known you'd go to check your windows and find this swan and note.

I'll be at your picnic. Don't keep me waiting.

Coriolanus Snow had some nerve, attending a nonexistent picnic that he had missed nearly two years ago.

The wind felt like a million little knives as you walked towards the entrance of the park you had requested Coriolanus to meet you at so long ago. God you wished he could've asked to meet at a more practical location, it had started snowing on your drive over. Who in their right mind chooses to meet at a park when it's freezing outside? Oh right, he wasn't in his right mind. Perhaps he never was, after all what kind of a monster could kill their best friend?

You didn't want to admit it but Coriolanus was devastatingly handsome. He always had been, even during your days at the academy when he still had the soft curls you loved to pull on when he was in bed with you. Even now with his new hairstyle, he was captivating. Of course, good looks can only get you so far and you knew exactly what lurked behind that pretty face. A snake that charmed its prey before going in for the kill is what lurked behind those blue eyes that you had once loved to look into. But, recently, you had a hard time believing that he really was a monster. The roses and longing stares certainly didn't help either. Sometimes, in the dead of night, you found yourself wishing for him, for Coriolanus.

Sure enough, he was there, sitting at a picnic bench where you had once cried your eyes out because he never showed up, too busy with Lucy Gray. Your frozen feet sped up as he stood, ready to greet you, and hopefully explain how the hell he got into your home.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" You say, shoving at his chest when he gets close to you

"I thought girls liked flowers? Red roses symbolize love you know." He says, barely stumbling back. Curse that Peacekeeper training he went through.

"Girls also like it when people, oh I don't know, decide not to break into their home after weeks of creepily staring at them!" You accuse, angrily.

Coriolanus had to swallow the smile that was itching to weave its way across his face. The weeks of silence, stares, and roses had frazzled you. The pressure he had put on you had torn down the woman who had embarrassed him in the restaurant months ago. Perhaps he could rebuild her, into a new one of course. He knew he could and he knew you were capable of being what he wanted. All it was going to take was a little effort.

"I originally was planning to simply leave them at your door, but when I got there it was unlocked. I thought It'd be romantic to leave them on your bed. Forgive me if I overstepped. I was sure the woman in charge of cameras and new technology for the Hunger Games would've had better sense and locked her doors in the mornings." He smiled.

Could you see that he was lying? Your door had been ridiculously easy to open. The lock was a joke, hopefully, whoever owned the building would replace the locks, after all, you don't want to have break-ins, someone dangerous might get in.

"Overstepped? Romantic? Coryo, I'm dating someone already! You need to accept that and stop with the gestures! Not to mention our past isn't exactly...well all roses!" You groan

Well, aren't you just adorable with your jokes?

"I don't see any issues with my actions. I'm just showing a pretty girl my feelings for her. It's not my fault she's still with some ugly pig." He says truthfully

He smiles when he sees your face flush slightly. Sure, it could've been the cold and the snow that was falling but something inside him said you enjoyed his compliment.

"See that's the problem with you! You never see anything wrong with your actions and just keep going as if you think you're right! And because of that, you're standing on a pile of bodies that is only growing larger. " You point, stepping back slightly as he steps towards you.

"I don't ever think I am right in my actions. I know I am. Every step I've ever taken has been the correct one. The same goes for you, by the way. You want to be so benevolent and hold Sejanus, Highbottom, and Lucy Gray against me." He steps forward and finally closes what little distance was left and hooks a finger under your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his, "The truth is, you also stand on a pile of bodies. Perhaps it is even larger than mine, how many people did your mother step on to build her name, the legacy that she gifted to you. "

You're shaken by his words, rightfully so, no one wants to be called out on the darkest corners of their souls. He knows that you can see he's right. Tears are welling in your eyes and he wipes at one that falls. You look beautiful enough to devour as your eyes flutter shut. His breath mingles with yours and he appreciates how the snow sticks in your hair, it almost makes you look angelic.

"Why're you crying?" He asked

"Stop it." You whimper, trying to pull away from him and his hands.

"Stop what? Comforting you or stop talking about what got you to where you are now?" He asks, grabbing at your upper arm to keep you close

"Both." You say, voice so quiet it might blow away with the snow that fell from the sky.

"Our hands are stained in blood. Blood from the pile of bodies we both stand on now. That pile is only going to grow each year, every games we organize is another 23 added, trampled under our shoes." He points out

"Coryo, stop it," You say, looking up at him "Let me go, I want to go home."

"What I'm trying to say is why add to that pile alone? I, of all people, know what it feels like. Stand by my side and you'll never have to feel it again." He says honestly. Perhaps you'd take his proposal now. You had been so angry at the restaurant, blinded by your rage.

"Feel what?" You ask

"Guilt," He says softly.

"Like you've ever felt guilt." You scoff, rolling your eyes

"Maybe I have, maybe I haven't. What I do know is you feel it. Don't think I didn't notice your face the moment the first few kids fell during the games a few weeks ago. I also remember your reaction when those snakes were released last year and they jumped on that poor little one first, what was her name again? Wove?" Coriolanus asked, knowing exactly how to worm his way into your heart

"Wovey." You say, "She was my tribute, I stupidly thought she might have a chance to win until Dr. Gaul released that cage."

Your bottom lip is trembling as you recount what your tribute had meant to you. Coriolanus couldn't remember her very well but you clearly did. He almost felt guilty for bringing it up again. Almost.

He reaches out and gently takes your face in his hands. Thanks to the incident in the restaurant, he knew anger would get him nowhere with you. So, instead of yelling at you and calling you stupid for caring for some District scum, he gently kisses you. A surprised little gasp escapes your lips but he swallows it down as the kiss deepens. He wants to melt into your arms when your hands card through his perfectly styled hair.

"Stop it!" You suddenly command, pushing him away from you

"What's wrong? You seemed to enjoy that." He cockily said

"I'm, I'm with Aesop. I love him, and you don't get to ruin that for me because you screwed us up years ago." You say, your voice cracking a bit.

You certainly don't seem confident in that statement. Did you even truly like Aesop or were you just using him?

"If you're going to declare your love for someone you ought to actually be certain of it before putting it into words." He says

"I know your game, Coryo. You aren't going to ruin me again." You say

He can't get another word out as you spin around and race back to your car. You sure were a hard thing to catch, but he knew it all would be worth it. After all, when hunting something, the chase was always the most exciting part.

You didn't see Coriolanus after your meeting in the park. You avoided Gaul's lab and just sent your assistant with messages to her instead. Forget trying to get under Coriolanus' skin with your flirting and clothes, he was driving you positively mad. His words had replayed in your mind hundreds of times in the past week.

That pile is only going to grow each year, every games we organize is another 23 added.

Sure, you had always known that but hearing it had sent a shiver down your spine in the most horrific way. Why had he said it when he knew that you felt guilt for it. He had to be after something, but what? Perhaps he just wanted you. But you remained faithful to Aesop. So what was he doing, still sending you flowers and little paper swans to accompany them?

"You know its already dead right?" Aesops question snapped you from your thoughts

You looked down at the poor piece of steak you had been aggressively cutting.

"Oh, right...I'm sorry there's just been a lot on my mind recently." You admit

"Tell me about it. We haven't gotten to talk in weeks." He smiles

"It's just work. Gaul is getting crazier every day. She asked me if I thought having a tail would be fun today." You sigh

"Well, what'd you say? Because I think it might be kind of cool." Aesop says

"I said it would be rather odd." You admit

"It might be. Can you imagine the draft on your ass if you ever wanted to wear pants?" He grinned

"Oh my god." You groan "You're actually a child."

Aesop smiles a pops a bite of his potatoes in his mouth.

"You love it."

It's true, you loved being with him. Even now as you lay in bed, covers up to your chin as he washed off the sweat that came with sex. You loved almost everything about Aesop. His humor was perfect and his cooking was simply divine. Not to mention he was simply a perfect gentleman. Although, nights like this had you wishing for something a bit more exciting. Honestly, you sometimes wished for someone not so agreeable, someone who'd banter with you over something ridiculous. Beyond that though, you missed the feeling of a true orgasm. Aesop was lovely in bed but he wasn't quite so knowledgeable about the female form when it came down to it. You had chalked it up to him always making foreplay just a bit too short.

When even was your last orgasm with another person? Perhaps one of those flings you had before you met Aesop? Or maybe...oh no surely it couldn't have been the last time you slept with Coriolanus. That was years ago! You had to have had one with another partner. Perhaps that fellow who had dyed his hair green and had been so tall you could've asked him to change a lightbulb without a ladder. Or maybe that time Aesop had gone down on you? No that wasn't it....

"What's on your mind?"

"Nothing...come to bed." You smile as he emerges from the bathroom, admiring his naked chest.

"Let me get dressed first," Aesop says as you reach for him

"Ugh, fine." You laugh, despite his shortcomings, he truly was the perfect one for you.

Coriolanus had finally decided exactly how he was going to free you from that monkey's grasp. Aesop, bless his thoughtful soul was in medical school at the university. Coriolanus had dug deeper into the university files and found that Aesop was the son of some rich man who ran huge lumber plants out in District 7. This meant that Coriolanus' favored method of poison would probably be too harsh for the situation. Not to mention you'd surely know who did away with your paramore. No, this particular murder was going to take a bit of cunning moves, moves Coriolanus was sure he'd be able to pull off,.

Amidst this digging, he also found out that not only was he two full years older than you but he was also amid his residency at a doctor's office closest to the school. Aesop was certainly making it a bit too easy for Coriolanus to get rid of him once and for all. So, now, here he sat, a middle-aged Capitol woman, the wife of some lofty untouchable politician in front of him.

"And then what are you going to say to the board at the school?" He asked, hoping it had finally gotten through her thick skull.

"I say that he harassed my son when I went to the bathroom. And my boy was too scared to say anything about it until now." She said

"Who is he? The board won't know what to do if you don't give names. And you need to give more details or it won't be believable." He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Did this woman have nothing but air between her ears? How hard was it to get a fake story right? Coriolanus wished there had been a better option for this but she was the only one rich enough that the school board would have no choice but to act.

"R-Right. He-The student Aesop. When my son and I were at the office he works in last week, I left to go to the bathroom and when I came back into the room, he was harassing my son." She says

Who the hell was teaching these people? Honestly, someone who is so incompetent should just go live in the Districts. Let another person more deserving take their place in society.

"What kind of harassment?!" He yelled, slamming his hands so hard on the desk she flinched across from him. "Sorry...you just, you need to be crystal clear with what kind of harassment or he will never get put away. You want revenge on this Aesop's family, right? His daddy left you for another woman years ago right?"

The woman nods, still a bit scared from him losing his cool.

"Okay, well I want this Aesop put away for good. So you and I have a bit of common ground here. But it won't work if you aren't perfect when you go to the board." He smiles

The woman is as predictable as any other Capitol citizen and is easily charmed by his warm demeanor.

"Now, let's try it again." He says, reaching across the desk to take her hand in his, "And this time I want you to be perfect, understand?"

Coriolanus isn't sure what to make of the blush that warms this woman's face. Of course, he should've seen it coming since she had been practically drooling over him ever since he summoned her to his office. Guess it was good to know his charm was still intact despite you rejecting him so many times.

"I went to the doctor's office with my son last week. While we were there I had to use the restroom, so I left my boy in the examination room and expected him to be safe there." She starts

"Good," He praises, "Now continue"

"When I returned to the room, the medical student I had seen with the doctor earlier was harassing my boy. He was too scared to tell me what truly had happened though until last night which is why I'm coming to you now." She finishes

"Wonderful. Now they'll ask you what manner of harassment this was, you know. And what exactly are you going to say?" He says, releasing her clammy hand from his.

"The sexual kind, right, Mr. Snow?"

Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Aesop would be gone from your life before the week was over and Coriolanus would be there to pick up the pieces that were left behind.

Your call comes right after Coriolanus has finished his dinner.

"Coryo!"

Your voice sounds desperate through the phone. Perhaps you had been crying because you sounded a bit choked up as well.

"Yes?" He asks, hoping it doesn't sound like he's smiling on you r end.

"They took him! They just came into my home and snatched him right off my couch! I tried to stop them but they took him outside and into this huge truck! I called my mother but she said she can't do anything! Please you have to do something!"

You're so frantic he actually feels bad for a second.

"Slow down. Who took who?" He asked, playing his part

"Aesop! A bunch of Peacekeepers just barged into my home and took him right off the couch. They just said he had been charged with some crime by some fancy politician! Please Coryo don't you have connections to get him out?" You wail

He doesn't. Even if he did he'd never use them on a fool like Aesop. But he doesn't.

"I'm going to come over. Just stay put." He says before placing the phone back on the hook.

How perfectly everything falls into place when you grease the right palms.

You're a little ball of tears, snot, and anxiety when he finally gets to your cute little apartment. He had let himself inside, the door had been unlocked for real this time.

"Coryo!" You cry, jumping into his arms

He wasn't expecting you to be so willing to hug him but he accepts it anyway. You feel so perfect in his arms, even if your tears are staining his dress shirt.

"Stop the tears." He gently commands when he feels the dampness hit his skin.

You let out an ugly sniff before letting go and gesturing for him to sit on the couch with you.

"So tell me exactly what happened." He says, making sure to scoot closer to you

You recount exactly how your evening has gone and he pretends to really take it all in. While your pretty voice fills his ears, he can't help how his mind begins to fantasize. Your tears are still falling slightly and he finds himself wishing he was the cause of them. Not out of pain of course, pleasure obviously. His eyes wandered over your frame as he took in your attire for the evening. You were in a simple dark blue pullover. It looked decently soft and comfortable as he gulped at the sight of your exposed legs. Where were your pants? Had you hugged him without pants on? You must've since he didn't see you remove anything since he entered. Your pretty hair is messily pulled out of your eyes as you say something about how scared Aesop had looked when he was hauled off.

Your exposed skin was making it even harder to focus on the words falling from your lips as his mind raced. Were you playing some game here? He'd love to find out by bending you over this damn couch and fucking you silly. Finally, there was nothing between the two of you, Aesop had gone to meet his fate and you were clearly interested in what he had to offer. That outfit was making your interest abundantly clear. Your legs shifted suddenly and He's sure he sees the lacy glimpse of lingeine. Is that why you were so upset? Were to planning on seducing Aesop and now he's left you high and dry? Poor, pretty girl. Not to worry though, he'd gladly take Aesop's place. He felt his pants tighten as he imagined you on your knees in front of him, taking his cock into your pretty mouth. Whatever lacy little number you were wearing under that damn shirt he'd tear off and make sure your body was covered in him before the night was over.

"Is there anything you can do for him?"

Shit. Thats right. He was only here because you thought he could spring Aesop from whatever fate awaited him.

"I'm afraid even I do not have connections that go that high yet." He says, trying his best to sound regretful

"Do you think Dr. Gaul does? I can call her now." You suggest, hopefully.

It's pathetic how desperate you are right now. Why can't you just let him go?

"She may, but do you even know what crime he committed? What if it's something awful? Then, wouldn't it be better that he was locked up?" He asks

"I'm sure it's not. They probably have the wrong person. His father is incredibly wealthy you know." You say, sniffling slightly

He does know.

"No, I didn't. In that case, perhaps he'll be fine then. Money goes a long way here, you know that." He smiles, gently taking your hand in his

"You're right...perhaps I'm being hasty." You sigh

"Perhaps." He agrees before gently pressing a kiss to your forehead.

He smiles when you lean into his side, resting your head on his shoulder.

You're happy he's here by your side. If not for Coriolanus' presence you'd probably be slipping into madness and dialing up Dr. Gaul and god only knows what she was doing at this hour.

"Thanks for coming over, Coryo. I'm sorry I went crazy on you at the park that night." You apologize, truly feeling guilty for how you acted.

"Is that the only thing you're sorry for?" He quips

You know what he's referring to. The restaurant incident must've hurt him badly. You actually feel a bit guilty as you squirm under his gaze.

"I'm sorry for the restaurant thing too." You say, your voice just barely above a whisper

You hear him let out a little amused laugh.

"It's alright, pretty girl. I know you were just upset since you thought I cheated on you with Lucy Gray." He says

You nod in agreement, your mind feels like it's stuffed with cotton as Coriolanus' big hand begins to rub circles on your exposed skin. His hand drifts slowly up, up up, and brushes at the lace that covers your core.

"Coryo..." You gasp when his finger presses at your clit through the fabric

"Mmm, what is it?" He mumbles, his attention elsewhere as slips a finger behind the fabric and into your soaked folds.

You feel Coriolanus let out a laugh of delight when a desperate gasp leaves your lips.

"Someone's desperate. You're soaked." He teases, his lips gently sucking at your neck.

You knew the cause of your desperation, stress from work, and the lack of orgasms was taking a toll on you. The original plan for the evening had been to don sexy undergarments and then pull Aesop into bed with you. But now...Coriolanus was here, warm, pressed against your skin and toying with you just right, and for the first time in over a year, you actually feel an orgasm building up.

"Stop." You command, finally finding your voice among your newfound pleasure.

The warm hand drags itself from between your thighs, regrettably and Coriolanus looks at you like you've stolen his favorite dessert right off his plate.

"What is it? Did I hurt you?" He asks, pressing a kiss to your shoulder which had become exposed when your shirt was pushed slightly off. When had he done that?

"I-I'm with Aesop, remember." You shakily say

"You don't sound so sure about that." He smirks

You roll your eyes and are about to scold him instead are met with him actually cooperating when he stands up to leave.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He says before walking out and closing the door behind him.

The next few months were hard. Hard on you but also hard on Coriolanus. Aesop ended up being defamed on national television just days after Coriolanus had finally gotten the first taste of you in years. He had been essentially verbally ripped apart by the president and the father of the boy he had allegedly "assaulted". Then, he was physically ripped apart by some of the largest dogs Coriolanus had ever seen. It had been quite the spectacle and something inside him said that Gaul was behind the dogs that devoured your boyfriend on national television. You were a messy little thing after that. A depressed, messy thing. Coriolanus spent many days after that at your bedside trying to coax you into the shower or at least into a bath. It was when he was trying to force food down your throat that he truly felt bad for his actions. He had underestimated your love for Aesop. Of course, how was he supposed to know that they were going turn him into a living spectacle and let him be eaten by mutts?

But what came after was worth every bit of work and spilled food on your mattress. Aesop's overly graphic death had left you a shell of who you were before and now you clung to Coriolanus like he was going to disappear from your hold. Even now as you were in his bed, you wanted him as close as possible. You were nestled into his side as you both read your own books. Coriolanus' was something about the histories of Panem and yours a work of fiction. Normally, it held his attention perfectly but you were distracting. The way your tongue would jut out and lick at your lips every few minutes was driving him insane, not to mention the fact that you were dressed in his clothes in his bed.

"Coryo," Your sweet voice sounded "What's wrong? You're staring at me pretty hard."

"Nothing...just thinking how positively delicious you look in my shirt, in my bed, smelling of me." He smiled

You let our an embarrassed groan and try to shove him away from you.

"You're such a pervert." You laugh

It's true, he's a pervert. A pervert just for you. You had been driving him insane ever since you had begun to cling to him like a lost puppy. Even now, his eyes were roaming to where the swell of your tits was trying to hide under his shirt. What a poor job it was doing, he'd love to rip it off you.

"What're you thinking about?" You ask

"I...am thinking about skipping my dinner and going right to dessert tonight." He smiles, sitting up and getting up to position himself at the end of the bed

"Coryo!" You smile and gasp when he grabs you by the ankles and pulls you towards where he waits at the foot of the bed.

He gently pulls at the skimpy panties you've put on for the day. Honestly, what were you thinking? That you'd be able to prance around his home dressed like this and not entice him at all? He tosses them to the floor before gently pushing your legs apart. His eyes meet yours, a silent request for permission to bury his head between your thighs.

"Go ahead. I know you want to." You laugh

It's all he needs before his lips begin to tease the soft flesh of your inner thighs. He watches carefully as your head tips back when his teeth brush along your folds.

"Fuck!" You gasp when he presses a warm kiss to your clit

It's his turn to gasp and groan though when his tongue finally meets your cunt and your hands fly to his hair and tug.

"So sweet. You're going to ruin me, pretty girl." He mumbles before going up to suck your sensitive little clit.

You're seeing stars dance behind your eyelids as he licks and lets his teeth gently nibble at your most sensitive bits. Your clit feels like its burning as he pulls it into his mouth and sucks, hard. What really does it though is when he lifts a hand off your thigh and presses two long fingers into your needy entrance.

"Coryo!" You gasp as your hips jump off the bed, trying to jump away from the onslaught of pleasure.

"Stay still." He warns, biting at your thigh

You let your fingers tug harshly at his hair as he continues his ministrations.

"C'mon, give it to me. I know you're close."

Coriolanus' deep voice, riddled with lust is all it takes for you to cry out and cum all over his pretty face. Your chest heaves for air as he lets you come down.

"Good job." He smiles, wiping the back of his hand along his face that glistens with you.

You smile a dopey smile as he gently runs his fingers along the mess he made between your legs. His hands drift upwards and tug at your shirt, clearly wanting to expose your chest to his gaze. You comply pull his t-shirt off and toss it off the bed.

"We're not done yet though." He says, pleased, before leaning over to whisper in your ear like it's some secret no one else can know, "Turn around, ass up."

You let him maneuver you into the position he likes best, a deep arch in your back, displaying what was between your legs perfectly. You feel his hands run along your back, undoubtedly admiring you from behind.

"What a pretty little thing you are." He compliments before sliding into you.

Coriolanus swears there's nothing more perfect in this world than your cunt. The way it tightens when he goes just the slightest bit too deep and the way it just gushes whenever he toys with your clit. He admires what you look like from behind as he drills into you. His hands run up your body and twist into your hair before meanly pulling up so your back is flush with his chest.

"You're too fucking perfect." He rasps into your ear, inhaling the scent of your sweat "You've got me fucking you from behind, like a damn animal. Do you enjoy it? Being treated like some slut? A bitch just made for me hmm?"

"More!" You gasp, "Please, Coryo!"

"She wants more." He laughs, he knows he's being mean when he slows down his hips and you cry out.

"No!" You cry as he pulls out

"Just wanna look at you when you cum." He explains as he gently pushes you down so your back hits the mattress

A desperate moan leaves both of your lips when he slides back in.

"Coryo!" You gasp as his fingers find your clit, he could feel his stomach clenching, a telltale sign he was ready to cum, but what kind of a man doesn't get his girl off first?

"Are you close?" He says, ignoring the way your nails dig into his back when his hips speed up

"Yes!" You exclaim, letting your nails rake down his skin.

He groans as he leans down to steal the messiest of kisses from you. Spit and teeth clash as he continues to rock into you. He grabs at your hand and brings it up to your bouncing chest.

"Give me a show and I'll let you cum." He whispers into your ear, knowing you'll listen

He has to harshly grasp at the sheets under you when your little hands toy with the the chest that has had him enamored since he was a teenager.

"Fuck!" He gasps before swooping down to suck marks into said chest.

"Close!" You cutely warn him

"Yeah? Go ahead, cum." He demands before moving his hand from your clit to press on your stomach

It's with that that he feels you constrict around him and he can finally pull out and let go all over your stomach. Sticky cum webs its way onto your pretty skin and he admires it before collapsing next to you.

Silence settles over the room as you both catch your breath. He smiles when he feels you press your still naked, sweat body against his side.

"Thank you, Coryo." You mumble, burying your face in his neck.

"For what?" He asks. You should know you don't have to thank him for sex, after all, he enjoyed it just as much as you did

"For staying with me."

Coriolanus smiles to himself as he reaches over to press a warm kiss to your forehead. You truly were the perfect one for him, no one else compares.

"You're all mine, darling. I'm not going anywhere."

This is the final part of the Blank Space series. Thank you for reading! If you want more I suggest checking out my other work It Burns For You. It is also a Coriolanus x Reader story.

This part was an absolute beast to write and If you want I'd love to read some comments on what you did or didn't like about it.

Also, I am starting a permanent Coriolanus taglist. This means anything Coryo-related I post you'll get tagged in. If you want to be added, please message me directly.

See you in the next story!

-darknight3904

Taglist:

@katherines-imagines @stelleduarte @edb954 @blueiones @juliesjar @snowtargaryen @dangelnleif

@mrstrangeglove @rey26 @jackchampionwhore @reidsslutywaist

@marecaltrashhh @scentedprofessorbailiffstudent

@mrstrangeglove @rey26

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wife-of-all-dilfs · 1 year ago

Note

Hii! I love love love all of your finnick fics! Could I please request a fic where reader is also a victor from an earlier game and she is in an established relationship with Finnick. They both get reaped (not the same district) for the 75th games and reader gets critically hurt in the part where the cornucopia spins. Like she falls into the water after maybe being injured and she can’t swim, so Finnick has to risk everything to save her life.

I’m really looking for like a hurt/comfort with a seriously injured reader and Finnick going through hell to save her because he cannot imagine a life without her in it.

Thank you so much if you’re willing to write this or something like it, feel free of course to change anything to your liking!

two souls, one heart | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick refuses to lose the love of his life. your inability to swim complicates things, especially when the cornucopia begins spinning.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: pre-established relationship, heavy angst, drowning, death, bone fracture

notes: thank you so much!!! i really enjoyed writing this, shed a few tears but still enjoyed it lmao. listen to 'beginning of the end movement v' by the newton brothers on repeat for the full experience <3

A quiet nursery rhyme was being sung by the water's edge.

The calm waves around the Cornucopia lapped at the rocks, the blistering sun causing the surface to sparkle. Wiress' voice interrupted Peeta as he mapped out the arena's clock-like wedges in the dirt. Everyone was focused on the map; you should have been too.

Dark blue ripples had your eyes captivated. So tranquil. So hauntingly beautiful. Loving the sea was in your blood, as your District Four was your home. You would think coming from a fishing district would mean your swimming abilities were mastered. In reality, they were practically non-existent. No matter how many times Finnick had attempted to give you lessons, they never stuck.

Neither of you seemed to care though, always too enraptured by simply being in each other's company—feeling Finnick's hands support your body as you floated on the surface...

"Don't you let go of me, Finnick Odair, or I swear to god I'll drown you."

"Will that be before or after you drown first?" he chuckled, though ultimately tightening his grip on your body in an attempt to reassure you.

....hysterically laughing when he got wiped out by a sudden wave...

"No way! I can't—" You broke into a fit of laughter— "I can't believe that just happened!"

"Are you laughing at me, sweetheart?" Finnick asked, trudging through the water towards you, his hair drenched and swept across his forehead.

"Yes!"

You doubled over, knees buckling as you struggled to contain your laughter. Despite trying to put up a serious front, Finnick too let a few chuckles slip at the hysterical sight of you.

"Oh really?"

Just like that, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down into the cold water, earning him a squeal just before you crashed together below the surface.

...and washing up on the sandy shore in each other's arms, salty lips capturing one another.

"I'm covered in sand," you murmured against Finnick's lips.

He gave you another kiss before pulling away. "It's okay," he said, pecking your lips again. "I'll help you wash off in the shower when we get back." And then sent you a stomach-flipping grin.

Even though you wouldn't trade those memories for the world, if you had known your life would soon depend on the ability to swim, you would have paid much more attention to the lessons.

Finnick stood closely beside you, his trident digging into the dirt as he gripped it tightly in case of an attack. He had noticed your drifted attention, observing the way your eyes stared at the rippling water, like death was lurking just beneath the surface waiting to drag you down to the murky depths.

He could protect you from most things in the arena, but fear was something entirely different. A trident couldn't defeat the darkness in your mind.

A hand slid onto your lower back, rubbing gentle strokes to gain your attention. Your gaze tore from the blinding blue and settled onto Finnick's face beside you, watching his mouth curve into a light smile. You knew the silent words he was trying to convey: 'You're okay, sweetheart. I've got you.'

For a fleeting moment, the anxiety had disappeared. How could anything ever go wrong with Finnick by your side? The corners of your mouth quirked, preparing to send him a smile in response. But it never came. Something new had caught your attention. The woman by the water was no longer singing.

Wiress had been murdered.

The second Katniss let her arrow fly into Gloss' chest, everything around you seemed to explode into action. Anything that could go wrong would go wrong—Murphy's Law. And it did.

The Careers had initiated an attack.

Charging forward from the waterside was Cashmere, determined to avenge her brother's death. Instinct quickly kicked in and the spear in your hand was sent barrelling through the air and into her chest. As you watched her body slump to the ground, an enraged yell came from the side.

Finnick was fighting Brutus.

With your only weapon lodged within Cashmere's chest, aiding Finnick was impossible. Enobaria revealed herself beside Brutus, displaying her vicious fangs and throwing a dagger that sliced a small cut across Finnick's shoulder. Though the wound was minor, your heart lurched as he cried out in pain.

Before a single thought in your brain could form, your legs were moving. Not towards Finnick, but after Enobaria. Remember who the real enemy is—screw that. Finnick could have died. Your Finnick. He called out your name, his voice hoarse and frayed, but you continued on, hatred fuelling each step. It seemed Katniss and Johanna had the same idea, following behind you with their weapons bared.

Salt water sprayed onto your face, but you paid it no attention. Nor did you notice as the jungle surrounding the island began to blur into one overwhelming hue of green. Only when your body was thrown to the harsh rocky terrain did you realise what was happening.

The Cornucopia had started to spin.

Nothing could compare to the terror you felt as gravity's merciless force dragged your body toward the violent waves surging against the rocks. Just as your lower legs breached the edge, a hand grabbed onto your own. Katniss. She too was hanging onto Johanna whose only lifeline was an axe buried in the rocks.

A moment—that was all you were given to scan your surroundings. Supplies and sharp-edged weapons were flying everywhere. White water was spraying into the air. Finnick, who was thirty feet away, was gripping onto a rock ledge whilst keeping Beetee from sliding into the furious waves. His head turned to the side and even from a great distance, your eyes met.

It was at that moment you knew, you just knew the odds weren't going to be in your favour. God forbid you lived a simple happy life with the man you loved, days spent together on a calm beach. God forbid the Gamemakers gave you one last chance to be in his arms. God forbid you survived.

And with that sudden realisation, the universe, sick as it was, decided it was time.

Your hand began slipping from Katniss's; an unseen tear fell from your eye, and you smiled. A smile of goodbye sent to the love of your life. His face contorted into one of agony, lips moving but you couldn't hear his voice over the roaring waves. Still, you knew exactly what he was shouting.

"NO! NO!"

There was nothing he could do but watch your body disappear into the waves, repeating over and over "no, no, no," and praying his cruel eyes had deceived him. They hadn't.

Dark blue was in every direction you looked. The undertow tossed and rolled your body like a ragdoll in a washing machine and despite your attempts to swim, the surface only seemed to be slipping further and further out of your reach. Darkness engulfed you, so thick that you couldn't tell which way was up or down. That was when the panic set in.

Your arms and legs thrashed frantically, struggling against the water's force, desperate to reach safety or an air pocket. Cold water flooded your throat as you gasped uncontrollably. You screamed as every attempt at breathing felt like fire burning in your lungs. Finnick. Where was he? Where were you? What was happening? Why wouldn't it stop?

Thoughts submerged your mind in terror, and you were powerless to stop them. All you could do was feel. Pain. Fire. Burning

At some point, the Cornucopia had ceased its spinning and your body came to a rest in the water. An eerie calm suddenly washed over you; a sense of clarity stilled your wild movements. This was the end. There was no future. No hope. The world above wasn't yours to call home anymore. You now belonged to the sea.

Of course, your water-logged mind had forgotten that home was where the heart was, and your heart was still beating... above the surface, in the aching chest of another.

Tendrils of hair floated around your face like fronds of seaweed. Rays of sunlight penetrated the surface, turning the surroundings a vibrant sparkly blue. As you sank further down, the water, now a comfortable lukewarm, cradled you in its embrace. It felt safe, like being in Finnick's arms again. Like home.

You gazed at the sun's rays; they looked beautiful. You felt beautiful. But time was running out and the bright light soon began shrouding your entire vision, though not before you witnessed a dark figure dive beneath the waves.

**********

Finnick loved the ocean. He spent most days in District Four down by the beach, swimming, spearfishing, and watching the sun rise and set on the blue horizon. If he believed in reincarnation, he would have imagined himself to be a lionfish or dolphin in his past life, living in an underwater world, free from tyranny and oppression. He loved the ocean.

But that love was incomparable to what he felt for you. So, when he dove into the rocky waters to save you and felt the currents fighting against him, he determined there was nothing he hated more than the ocean. Not as he watched its strong grip drag your motionless body further down below him.

Your back had just touched the soft seabed when he swam far enough down to envelope you in his embrace. He should have swum you back to the surface immediately, but in his distressed state, he couldn't help but foolishly stare at your lifeless appearance. Your skin was blue. It's just the water's colour, he told himself. Your eyes were closed. She's just asleep. Your neck didn't pulse under his touch. She's... She's...

He had no justification for that. Feet planted firmly on the sandy floor, he propelled both himself and you back up to the surface. As Finnick paddled back to the Cornucopia, the others reached down and helped lift your limp body onto the rocks.

"Is she...?"

"Peeta," Katniss quietly reprimanded him.

Finnick paid them no attention. He said nothing but trauma screamed in his eyes. His breathing was ragged and his hands were trembling as he frantically checked your pulse again—in both your wrists and your neck; he even pressed his ear to your chest. All he heard was the waves lapping against the rocks.

"No," he whispered again.

It seemed to be all he could say anymore. No. No, this couldn't be happening. You were just standing beside him a few minutes ago; your eyes were just looking into his. However much he tried to deny reality, it didn't seem to make it any less true. You were gone.

He choked out a rough determined breath, interlocked his hands over your chest, and began pressing repeatedly over your heart. Wet strands of tangled hair were strewn across the rocks like dead seaweed. The usual soft pink accompanying your cheeks was nowhere to be seen, devoid of any life.

"Come on, sweetheart," he muttered before pulling down your chin to blow air into your lungs. The kiss of life. And when nothing happened as he pulled away, he restarted the chest compressions. "Oh, don't do this to me," he begged, voice breaking. "Don't do this. Breathe."

Any moment now. Any moment, your eyes would flutter open, the colour would return to your glowing skin, and your heart would beat with life beneath his hands. Your lips would whisper his name and he would pull you into his arms, where he would keep you safe until the end of time.

"Breathe."

Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Nothing. He did it again. Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Silence. Maybe he should've just ripped his heart out and replaced yours with his own. Death would come for him within seconds but hearing something beating inside your chest would've made the sacrifice worth it.

Life would flash before his eyes and your beaming smile would be the last thing he'd get to see. His last thought would be of relief that you were alive.

Johanna rested a tentative hand on Finnick's shoulder. "Finnick, she's—"

"No, she's not!" he exclaimed, continuing his movements. "She's fine. Aren't you, baby? You're fine." He cupped your jaw, his thumb stroking your soft skin before he pressed his lips to yours and blew twice. "You're fine."

The golden bangle around his wrist glimmered in the sunshine as he pressed on your ribcage. All he had to do was keep you alive until Plutarch rescued everyone. One simple task and he failed.

"Finnick, we have to go," someone said. Who? He didn't know nor care.

Leave me, he wanted to say. Leave me here to die. Let the Careers mutilate my body, take my life, my last breath, but let it be by her side.

Something cracked beneath his palms and he knew one of your ribs had fractured. His arms stilled, half-expecting you to cry out in pain but then he remembered. And with that sickening crack came a devastating realisation—you really were gone.

A sob erupted from his throat and his head fell to your chest, drenching your already-soaked wetsuit with hot tears. Everything else seemed to disappear. The arena, the Careers who could attack again at any moment, the spectators who were avidly watching. Everything.

It was just him and you. He didn't care that his screams and deafening sobs could bring unwanted attention or jeopardise the group's safety. Any tribute with half a mind would know crossing him in such a state would be a fatal flaw. Even if they did, it wouldn't matter. Nothing mattered. Life no longer had meaning.

Finnick pulled your lifeless body onto his lap and cradled you protectively in his arms, lightly rocking back and forth. His forehead rested against your own, cold and damp. You always were the cold one, needing his touch to light a fire beneath your skin. He loved having you rely on him for warmth, but not like this.

"Come back to me, baby, please," he begged almost inaudibly. Tears were running down his cheeks as he brushed pieces of hair away from your face. His lips were on yours once more, heartbroken and painfully delicate; not to fill your lungs with air, but to fill your heart with his love in the hopes it would be enough to bring it back to life. "Don't leave me."

Pleas, prayers, begs, and wishes flew past his lips, over and over. And then they stopped and Finnick simply stared. Silence fell across the entire arena. The birds didn't chirp, the other tributes remained quiet, and the trees stood still. Even the water had calmed, resembling a perfectly flat mirror.

Finnick only had three words left on his tongue. Three final words to give you, wherever it was that you were. He slowly leaned down, squeezed his stinging eyes shut, and pressed a long farewell kiss to your forehead. His eyes remained closed as he parted from your skin, unable to take another look as he whispered his final goodbye.

"I love you."

And then, for the first time since he had rescued you from the blue depths, he felt his heart beating again. Just like yours was.

**********

There was a voice, distant yet reassuring—a lifeline to consciousness. Black was all there was. Coldness was all that was felt. It was desolate. But that voice... that voice was so anguished yet so familiar and encouraging that it lit a fire inside your chest, warming you from the inside out.

In the distance of the dark void was a figure, their body made entirely out of a pulsating golden light. Each word the voice spoke enhanced the light's brightness. "Come... me, please..." Brighter. "Don't leave..." And brighter.

The light was warm and comforting, just like the voice attached to it. Whoever's voice it was that brought the light resonated deep in your mind, tugging at the strings within your heart.

Your heart.

The thumping in your chest was weak, almost non-existent, but it was still there. Though it seemed time was running out. Pitch-black darkness outweighed the golden light ten-to-one; you could feel its cold breath creeping onto your back. So, you started running towards the figure. Sprinting. Until all that surrounded you was golden.

"I love you."

Water. At first, it came trickling out in two fluid streams from the sides of your mouth. Then suddenly, it was spraying into the air as choked coughs forced the liquid from your burning lungs. Light flooded your vision—not golden and inviting, but vivid and overwhelming.

There was something warm beneath your legs, against your arm, rubbing at your back, holding you in an upright position. While you heaved, dry-retched, and gasped, that soothing warmth remained.

As your airways began to clear and the expulsion of water ceased, your half-lidded eyes rolled around the area. Still dazed and disoriented, you struggled to make out what surrounded you. There was immense rippling blue, vibrant hues of green in the distance, dark rough grey beneath you, and elongated blobs of colour that stood a few feet away.

"Just–just keep breathing, sweetheart." That voice. The one belonging to the figure of light that brought you back. It was madly repeating the same words over and over. "You're okay", "Deep breaths", and "You're alive."

Shaky fingers brushed the stray wet strands of hair from your face. So warm. With the little energy you had, your head turned to seek out the golden light again. And you found it.

The blinding sun shining down reflected off his bronze hair, turning it a divine golden hue. His brows were raised and scrunched together as though he couldn't possibly believe what he was seeing. Deep lines were etched into his tear-streaked skin, evidence of his previous turmoil. Those sea-green eyes stared at you, afraid that if he so much as blinked, you would fall lifeless in his arms once more.

"You're here," he whispered.

Finnick. YourFinnick. Your light.

When your eyes met, a splitting grin lit up his face, made up of an inconceivable amount of raw emotion. You weren't sure what to do—smile, laugh, cry, kiss him? Your mind was scrambled, overwhelmed with love for the beautiful golden-haired man in front of you.

Without warning, your face scrunched up and the tears began flowing. You weren't sure why you were crying. Maybe it was because you had just been brought back from the brink of death; maybe it was because you couldn't believe someone actually cared so deeply about you.

Finnick cradled your face in his hand. "It's okay," his voice trembled, tears now cascading down his cheeks. His smile, however, never disappeared. "You're okay. You're safe now. I'm not letting you go."

He took your face into two large hands, brought you to his lips, and pressed a tender kiss to each tear that rolled over your skin. One of your hands rested over his; the other was placed against his chest, feeling it rise and fall so you could synchronise your breaths.

His arms moved to pull you tightly against him, almost like he was trying to merge your body with his. Or perhaps, it was your soul. You didn't care about the pain aching in one of your ribs. You wanted to tell him that his soul was already intertwined with your own, but words couldn't describe the sentiment as profoundly as you felt it.

In the simplest of terms your water-logged brain could muster, you whispered, "You're my light, Finnick."

Brows scrunched together, he looked down at you, fighting back the urge to start sobbing in your arms. If he had been anywhere else, if there wasn't an entire country watching, he would've gone on for hours, explaining how stupidly, selfishly, and incredibly in love with you he was.

But he couldn't do that. Not now. So, he placed his hand over the one you had resting on his chest and readjusted its position. He could feel the thumping, even through your palm.

Your eyes were full of emotion as you stared up into his. You already knew what his next words were going to be and for the first time since you were thrown into the water from the Cornucopia, you smiled.

Rhythmically, your hand and his pulsed together. Finnick's gaze flickered across your face and he grinned. "You're my heart."

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gogogodzilla · 1 year ago

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peeta mellark being you to let him eat your 🐱

Just a Taste || Peeta Mellark

peeta mellark x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, cunnilingus, porn with plot, panty sniffing, reader is wearing a dress, panty stealing masterlist ✩ read on ao3 ✩

The stage of the training center under your heels was a familiar feeling. The stage lights shone brightly, and you squinted slightly as you walked out with Peeta hand in hand. The air practically crackled with energy as the booming applause from the audience of Capitol citizens nearly deafened you.

Caesar Flickerman warmly welcomed both of you. He gave you a good-natured kiss on the cheek and shook Peeta’s hand. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to how touchy the Capitol people were.

Once the crowd settled down, Caesar gave the two of you a beaming smile. “It’s an absolute delight to have the two of you here once again,” he exclaimed and you wondered how he got his teeth to be so white. “The Victory Tour has been a success, wouldn’t you say? What has been the most memorable moment for you both?”

Peeta squeezed your hand before answering, “As much as I’ve loved spending some time in all of the districts, the most unforgettable part was spending time with the person I love and sharing our love with the districts.”

You feigned embarrassment at his words and looked away. You couldn’t avoid the heat that flooded your cheeks, which brought a boisterous laugh from Caesar. “You two are adorable. I love it!” he gushed.

The audience cheered in response, and Peeta kissed your knuckles. After a few moments, Caesar settled the audience down and turned back to the two of you. “I’m sure you both know that we have immensely enjoyed seeing your love blossom in front of us. It’s truly a marvelous sight.”

“Thank you, Caesar. We’re extremely grateful for the opportunity to be here with you and the rest of the Capitol citizens,” you give him a dazzling smile before turning to Peeta. “I am also incredibly grateful to be here with the love of my life. I couldn’t ask for anything better,” your gaze softens as you look at Peeta. The audience ‘awws’ and cooed at the two of you while Caesar pressed a hand to his heart.

“Ugh, we can’t get enough of you two. What does the future look like for the two of you? I’m sure we’re all eager to see more of your love blossoming,” Caesar questioned and the audience buzzed with excitement.

You shared a glance with Peeta. You gave his hand a comforting squeeze, and he turned to Caesar.

“The future looks bright as long as I have my love by my side,” he answered, allowing a hush to fall over the crowd. Damn, he was good at this. “And I would like to have my love by my side for as long as we both shall live,” his voice trembled slightly as he pulled out a small velvet box. He got on one knee and looked up at you. Your hand covered your mouth in feigned shock. “My love, you have been my light in the darkest times, and I can’t imagine a future where you’re with me. Will you make me the happiest man in Panem and marry me?”

Emotions swelled within you. Peeta was laying it on a bit thick, but you didn’t care. You nodded your head, forgetting to speak for a moment. He slightly raised his brow, and you forced yourself to speak.

“Yes,” you whispered, nodding rapidly. Your voice returned and you spoke louder, “Of course I’ll marry you.”

Applause and cheers thundered throughout the room as Peeta got to his feet and slid the ring onto your finger. Peeta’s smile was radiant as he pulled you into a kiss which caused the audience to roar even louder. You grinned as you kissed him back. You truly did care for him, and didn’t mind being stuck with him forever. You would’ve been dead without him.

As you pulled away, Caesar dabbed his eyes theatrically and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. Peeta kept his hand around your waist as you curled up against his side.

“Ladies and gentlemen, a proposal during the Victory Tour! This is certainly a night to remember, wouldn’t you say?” Caesar beamed as he swept an arm out toward the crowd which roared in response.

Peeta held you close as the interview wrapped up. The crowd buzzed with excitement, and you couldn’t fight the grin that graced your features. Eventually, your time with Caesar was over and you were ushered off the stage.

Effie met you as you exited and she clapped her hands in excitement. “Wonderful work you two. Now, time to get ready for the reception President Snow offered to throw to celebrate the two of you. It’ll be a party of the ages,” she declared, walking quickly as you returned to your quarters.

Cinna intercepted you as you stepped off the elevator. You clung onto Peeta’s hand until the last possible second.

Cinna grinned as he led you away, “Don’t worry, you’ll have some time to catch up before we leave.”

“Can’t I just wear what I have on?” you thumbed the fabric of your dress as you walked, frowning slightly.

He chuckled, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”

He led you to your room and helped you onto your podium in front of the mirror. Cinna got to work almost immediately, fluttering around you with practiced movements. The soft rustle of fabric accompanied his steps as he brought the dress over to you. He quickly got you changed, his gentle hands working wonders as the fabric draped over your body. Cinna’s hands danced delicately over your hair, weaving it into an elegant style perfect for the celebration tonight.

“You look radiant,” Cinna complimented as he stepped back to admire his work in the mirror.

You met his gaze in the mirror, a grateful smile on your lips, “It’s all because of you.”

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, and a knock sounded at your door. You both turned and Peeta poked his head in. A soft smile made its way onto your features as he stepped into the room and finally got a good look at you. His eyes widened as they raked over your form, and your cheeks flushed.

“You look…” Peeta’s words faltered as his gaze remained on you. “Wow,” was all he managed to come up with as he took a few steps toward you.

Cinna chuckled, “I’ll let you two have a moment. You have 15 minutes before Effie’s going to come knocking.”

He gave you a suggestive look as he left, and the flush of your cheeks spread. Peeta held out his hand so he could help you down, and you graciously took it.

You ran your fingers over his chest, feeling the smooth fabric of his suit. “Portia outdid herself… You look amazing,” you grinned, tugging him closer.

His hands wrapped around your waist, enveloping you like they had done so many times before. This time it was different though. The soft scent of his cologne engulfed you as he leaned in. His lips met yours in a soft kiss, but there was something more to it. Something hungry.

“Is it bad that I’m glad we’re stuck together forever?” you whispered as you pulled away to catch your breath.

He grinned, “You make marriage sound so pleasant.”

You chuckled in response and pulled him into another, deeper kiss. You tugged him by the lapels toward your bed, acutely aware of the seconds ticking by before Effie would be knocking.

His hands wandered across your hips as the backs of your thighs hit the edge of your bed and you slowly fell back. You parted for long enough to scoot back and Peeta eagerly followed you. His lips were back to devouring you within moments. You let out a small noise as he slotted his knee between your legs, the smooth fabric of his slacks brushing against your inner thighs.

You pulled away, attempting to catch your breath. Something shifted between you, and your entire body seemed to hum with need. Peeta caged your head between his forearms and his nose bumped against yours.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” you trailed off as Peeta scattered kisses across your neck.

He grinned against your collarbone, “I’m sure they’ll understand if I want to take a few minutes to ravish my fiancée.”

Your cheeks flared at his words. There had been rumors going around all tour that Peeta’s nightly visits to your room were far from innocent cuddling. You did little to dispel them, though. You couldn’t deny that this was the first time you’d felt this hunger for Peeta.

He ran his hands up the bare skin of your thighs, and your heart fluttered.

“Just a taste,” he murmured as he scattered kisses across your covered breasts and moved down your body. “Please, my love. I just need a taste.”

He ran his fingertips over your thighs as he situated himself between them. You craned your head to look down at him, and the sight of him had heat pooling between your legs. He looked up at you with those big brown eyes you couldn’t resist, begging for permission to ruin you. With the slight inclination of your head, he was sliding the fabric of your skirt to the side, letting his hands wander across your hips and thighs.

He pressed featherlight kisses across your inner thighs, nipping at the sensitive skin there. He wrapped his arms around your legs, keeping them in place. His breath fanned over the thin fabric of your panties, and you instinctively clenched them together. His grip held you in place as you squirmed, aching for more.

He hooked his fingers in the sides of your under and tugged them down and off your body. Your eyes widened as he brought your panties to his nose and inhaled your scent. He let out a noise that was something like a whimper combined with a groan, and you flushed.

He set your panties to the side and settled between your thighs. A gasp escaped you as he swiped his tongue through your folds. His grip tightened on your thighs as he desperately pulled you closer to his eager mouth. His tongue worked relentlessly against your sopping core, circling your clit before dipping down to tease your entrance.

You wanted desperately to tangle your fingers in his blonde locks, but you settled for the blanket below you. You were sure that Peeta’s prep team might have your head if you messed up his hair.

You slapped one hand over your mouth, muffling the desperate pleas and whines that escaped your lipstick-covered lips. Peeta eagerly lapped up everything you were giving him, and his nose bounced against your clit as he dipped his tongue into your entrance. Peeta reached up to intertwine his fingers with yours, grounding you.

Peeta whined against you, sending vibrations coursing through you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your hips jutted against him, grinding against his tongue. Every fiber of your being was tensed and ready to snap.

Peeta’s tongue circled your clit once more, and your release had you arching against the mattress, pushing you closer to his mouth. Your thighs attempted to clamp around Peeta’s head as you spasmed against him. He helped you to ride out your high, and his fingertips dug into the plush of your thighs.

After a few moments you stilled, and Peeta pressed comforting kisses against your inner thighs. You lifted your head to look at him, and your cheeks flushed at the sight. Your arousal had covered the bottom half of his face, and a satisfied grin covered his features.

“You did so good,” he praised as he crawled forward to kiss you. You tasted yourself on his lips, and a groan left you.

You were able to sneak in a few more lingering kisses before Effie’s knock sounded at your door. Peeta crawled off of you and helped you to the edge of your bed, your skirts only slightly getting in the way.

He grabbed your panties before you could and shoved them in the front pocket of his suit.

“For safekeeping,” he murmured with a grin plastered across his face as he leaned down to kiss you. You scowled at him in response but kissed him nonetheless.

He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped the rest of your arousal off his face before neatly tucking it back in its rightful place. You shuffled to the bathroom to clean yourself up, returning moments later looking slightly more put together.

Effie knocked once again, more insistently this time. You cringed, sensing the inevitable lecture you’d receive later.

Peeta held his arm out for you to take, and you gladly clung to him.

“Shall we?”

You rolled your eyes, “Let’s get this over with.”

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