#hunger drabble

[angstyaches]

for your hunger/fluff consideration: a hungry oc of your choice, who will probably be able to eat Soon but extenuating circumstances means there's gonna be a bit of a wait. they're sipping water to try to keep the pangs at bay, but it's emphasizing the audible growls their stomach is making? c: friend and/or lover in the room is Amused perhaps?

Anxiety-Relief Drabble 4/4. Thank you, Tiny, and the others who sent me lovely prompts 🖤

CW: hunger, embarrassment.

___

"Are you sure you're okay to wait for her...?"

“Yeah, no worries! I’m not too hungry.” These were the exact words that Payton had used, roughly twenty minutes ago when Claudette had called Autumn to say that she was caught up with some society drama and was going to have to catch a later bus from campus.

It had been a lie.

They’d been sitting on the couch since then, with Autumn reclined next to them as they both flicked through news articles and Instagram posts on their phones. Occasionally, Autumn would show Payton a cute video or share something she’d just read, but they were mostly existing in comfortable silence.

“I’d love to have some baby ducks one day,” Autumn said sweetly, tilting her phone to show Payton a clip of four yellow ducklings swimming in a bathtub alongside some pink and purple petals.

“Aw, cute,” was all that Payton could manage. They swallowed and smiled, hoping it wasn’t obvious that they were desperately tensing their stomach muscles. They’d been slowly taking sips from a glass of water, hoping to settle their belly until it was time to eat, but all it seemed to want to do was churn the liquid around in frustration.

Autumn had laid her homemade pie and mashed potatoes out on the table, containers still a little steamy after being carried all the way from her house to the flat in a shopping bag.

Even from the couch, the smell almost had Payton in a trance.

They could almost imagine that the tender meat and vegetables, along with the glazed, crispy crust, were already in their mouth. Their belly was basically collapsing in on itself in anticipation, twisting and demanding to know why it wasn’t already being fed. They cleared their throat as they felt a growl building just below their ribs, the hollow feeling pulsing down towards their belly button.

They look another careful sip, longer this time, hoping that volume would translate to a fuller feeling after they’d swallowed. But as the cold, crisp liquid swished into their belly, all hell seemed to break loose in there. Like a crack of thunder caused by two opposing hot and cold fronts.

The lip of the glass was still inside their mouth when their stomach growled. Otherwise, they might have cleared their throat to muffle it.

Autumn lifted one hand, as though she was about to prop it under her chin. She seemed to realise that would be an uncharacteristic move for her, so her hand just flopped nervously near her mouth, attempting to block the grin spreading across her face.

“What?” Payton laughed, holding their belly. Their midriff was somewhat exposed between the end of their top and the waistband of their pants. Of all the days to wear a crop top, it had to have been the day their stomach required soundproofing.

“Nothing, nothing!”

“It’s a natural sound…”

Payton wished they sounded a little more convicted, particularly when they felt another pang, followed by a spiralling gurgle from their tummy. The noise only seemed to egg Autumn on, and she let out a gentle snort.

“You’re such a little kid,” Payton teased.

“And you’re such a liar!” Autumn leaned over. Payton stiffened and straightened up, heat rush to their face as they realised that she was reaching for their stomach. She laid a hand over the sliver of exposed skin and gave it a few gentle pats. “You said you were okay to wait. You said you weren’t that hungry.”

“Is it a lie if I’m… starving?” they asked, grinning nervously as her hand lingered near their belly button. “Technically, that’s not ‘hungry’…”

Autumn stood up, leaned over, and pressed a kiss onto Payton’s warm cheek. “I’m going to get the pie heated up. Claude will understand if we start without them.”

[crystalwrizz]

I didn’t know you were this pathetic, dove. (Katniss Everdeen drabble)

Warnings: Very light degradation, slight bondage

Content: Thigh grinding, use of a (low setting) vibrator, teasing, orgasm denial, g/n reader, use of the word “hole” but it’s not specified which one she’s talking about. This takes place in the capitol while they’re on tour(we’re going to pretend you won too)

Prompt: Katniss ties your hands together to see how desperate you really are.

Titles/nicknames used: dove(reader), ma’am(Katniss)

Word count: 411

✨❄️✨

You whimper as you shift your wrists in the uncomfortable binding. You push up harder against the vibrator, your senses becoming clouded and your face becoming warmer.

Katniss couldn’t help but chuckle, gently grabbing you by the chin. “Look at those doe eyes,” she started, cupping your cheek and rubbing her thumb along it, “you’re so needy, dove.”

You nod. The way she was right now was unfair. Fully clothed, not even a bit flustered, and getting the privilege of sitting on a bed. You, on the other hand, were naked, hot and embarrassed, and writhing on the floor with your hands tied behind your back.

“Please, Kat,” you mumbled mindlessly, “please, I want to cum… it’s too much..!” You inched closer to her, rubbing your cheek on her clothed leg. She pushed you back, clutching your shoulder.

“Do I need to remind you how to be patient?” she said with an ominous tone. You shook your head. She lifted her leg, and looked at you expectedly. “I want to see every part of you. May I?”

You nodded, “Yes ma’am.” With that, she gently moved your head from side to side with her boot, looking at the countless hickeys and bite marks she left on your neck. She chuckled softly, putting her foot back on the floor.

She looked deeper into your eyes, starting to speak, “if you’re so desperate, get up here on my leg. I’ll take the vibrator off of you.” She did as she said, and laid it down on the bed. She pulled down her black pants a little bit, and looked down at you. “Come on, dove. Push yourself, get up on it.”

You nod, and struggle to your feet. Instead of waiting for you to get closer, she pulled you right down onto her thigh. Despite her telling you to be patient earlier, she wasn’t very patient in this situation either.

You gulped, and reverted your eyes to her hands that held onto your waist. She helped you grind against her, and you whined quietly and shut your eyes. “Kat, can I cum? Please, I’ll do anything…” you said.

She laughed. “Anything?” she began, “I didn’t know you were this pathetic, dove.” Her middle finger met your hole. You shook in her touch, waiting for her to thrust it in. Instead, she teased the opening for a bit and then pulled away.

“Too bad, you aren’t allowed to until we’re back in district twelve.”

A/N: Sorry if this isn’t good, this is my first time writing smut/a drabble

[supernatural-bias]

Haymitch finally getting to see the reader after the games. Like before medical gets to them, when they get lifted up in the hovercraft thingy haymitch is there waiting for them. Like the way he’d push the medical team away to make sure the reader is ok before they do, the reader being overwhelmed- still processing they won the games ✨

-♥️🐀

They couldn't move.

The sun was no longer scorching their skin. Their hands and fingernails were no longer caked with blood. Nobody would be coming to hunt down and kill them anytime soon.

But not a single thing had changed once (Y/n) had been pulled out of that arena and declared Victor of the 68th Hunger Games.

The white walls and floors surrounding their immobile figure completely took over their vision. It was blinding. Any speck of color that happened to pass through the padlocks doors across from their hospital bed became glaringly clear as soon as it appeared. The veins on their arms and pores on their face stood out grossly. (Y/n) was sure they looked like a feral animal—and that was after almost a full day of being bathed and nursed back to normalcy. Physically at least.

It's not like they would let anyone do much to them anyways. Any nurse or doctor that dared enter a five foot radius of them was met with wild thrashing and blood curdling yells. At least seven doses of morphing had already been administered to (Y/n) just to get them to calm down and submit to treatment.

It was all they could do to keep from killing everyone in the building.

At the familiar sound of the opaque doors hiss, (Y/n) stiff muscles pulled taunt, preparing to leap out of the bed and run away at first notice. Not like they would get far, the stainless steel handcuff around their right hand guaranteeing that.

"Hey Kid."

Haymitch's voice was soft. Subdued. Which, it was worth noting, never happened with him.

His long blond hair was as unkempt as the last time (Y/n) had seen it. Almost as knotted and messy as their own. He looked like shit to say the least.

He slowly walked over to them, making sure to pause and give them a minute anytime he noticed their eyes dart around with fear. Haymitch was all too used to the feeling of being trapped. Feeling like you were still back in that god forsaken arena no matter what.

"They treating you well?" He mummbled, sitting down carefully at the foot of their hospital bed. He didn't waste time with formalities and asking how they were. It was pretty clear to anyone how exactly they felt.

"I want them all dead." Was all (Y/n) croaked. The most they had said in days. Haymitch recognized the sour lemon smell coming from them and sympathized.

"I know kid." He didn't say much else. Just awkwardly patting their foot a few times. (Y/n) relaxed a bit at that.

"I'll make sure you get back to twelve without any crowds. How 'bout that."

(Y/n) stirred for a moment.

"Yeah. Yeah I'd like that. Thanks Haymitch."

"Don't worry. I won't let them get you."

In that breif second, (Y/n) knew he wasn't talking about the crowds.

[serenefreakgeekao3]

Hey. Again. So I am in love with peeta mellark and would love if you could write about him having a partner at home in d12 and when him and katniss have to do the whole lovers act in the arena they get super jealous (pretend him and katniss never fell in love really) and when he comes home they're avoiding him and he confronts them about what's wrong. It end with them cuddling and talking about the games

Summary: “PEETA MELLARK!” Effie Trinket had read his name from the slip of paper in her hands, and you felt your knees give out. Katniss Everdeen had just made a spectacle of herself as the first volunteer of District 12. So where did that leave the love of your life? Apparently, inside an arena where he appears to fall in love with his district partner. Can things ever be the same when they both managed to make it back home as the ‘Star Crossed Lovers’? (No use of Y/N!)

Warnings: mentions of bad family behaviour, mentions of disassociation but not named as such, (almost) suicidal thoughts mentioned very briefly, jealousy from reader,

A/N: So this turned less from a jealous reader and more into a hurt/comfort scenario. I apologize if this isn’t exactly what you requested, I don’t normally write jealousy cause I don’t like how toxic it can turn sometimes. I tried my best! Hope you like it!

You were living through your worst nightmare. You would’ve amended that, at one point in your life, saying that perhaps living through the Hunger Games would be your worst nightmare, but you couldn’t imagine that even replacing yourself with Peeta and knowing you would die would be any worse than this. If this had been a week earlier, you would’ve said hearing Peeta’s name be called from Effie Trinket’s mouth was your worst nightmare. But surely, nothing could be worse than this.

Hearing Peeta’s name during the reaping had drained all life from you. However, seeing him before he left- for the very last time everyone kept telling you, but you managed to keep hope- had wrung an entire lifetime through you and faded away once more. You felt exhausted as you watched the train pull out of District 12. You refused to give up hope and told him so during your final goodbyes.

“Don’t you dare try to act like this is already over. Work with Katniss, I heard she’s good with a bow. Do whatever you need to, but don’t give up. Don’t ever give up because I am here and I’m waiting for you to come home-”

“Hey,” Peeta interrupted gently, taking your hands and pulling you into his arms, “My love for you is like the sun. Always shining, and always there.” He kissed the top of your head, mumbling against your hair, “I’m not giving up. I would never do that to you.”

Watching them dress him up had a morbid twist to it, knowing they were just trying to make him pretty enough to die. Nothing they do would be good enough, he was always the most handsome when smiling genuinely- and there was no way that anyone in the Capitol would be able to force him to smile genuinely. Even during his interview, when he joked around with Caesar and they leaned over to smell each other, a sadness pulsed through your heart at the fake, plastered smile he had. Even when asked about a ‘sweetheart back home,’ and Peeta had replied that he loved someone but refused to name them, he still hadn’t really smiled once. But you knew, once he looked into that camera he was looking directly at you. And that you were both mourning every second that you couldn’t spend together.

Once the countdown began, you watched Peeta’s harried face. How he had searched for Katniss, but she had run off without him. You were beside yourself when he was eventually left alone with the Careers- then felt blessed by any gods still living when they took him on as a temporary ally to find Katniss. You knew he was only doing so to save his own hide, and you couldn’t thank him enough for it. Of course, he wouldn’t actually hurt Katniss. But perhaps that could’ve also been a plus to this arrangement- he wouldn’t have to.

Every second that they showed on screen, your eyes were glued to it. Being gathered in the square to watch the beginnings of the Hunger Games, the countdown and the bloodbath. You were watching from home- one of the rare times they actually supplied electricity to everyone’s homes- way into the night, until he had fallen asleep on the television. Even then you were scared to close your own eyes, afraid of something happening to him during the night. But then the Capitol shut off the show and bid their own city citizens a good night. Only when there was nothing left to watch from the broadcast did you finally fall over on your couch and let your eyes fall closed.

You awoke to a sound blaring from the television, the jingle of Caesar’s show just before he went live. He began a recap of what had happened the night before, with colourful commentary of course. You kept an eye on the screen but didn’t see anything that should give you pause. You watched the death countdown at the end and finally breathed a sigh of relief.

So this was how your days went. You still needed to eat though, and drink and sleep. You worked your paltry job, and always stopped by the Mellarks on the way home. They knew you well, of course. This was hitting them hard, but they still had two other sons. The Mellark father always looked at you with pity though, as if you had no one else left. He wasn’t too far off. He gave you an entire loaf of bread every day that you had stopped by, and one time you finally heard the matriarch in the back of the shop.

“District twelve might finally have a winner.”

With the pitiful look Peeta’s father shot you, and the sour look of one of his brothers as he stormed out, this seemed to be a reoccurrence. And it seemed she wasn’t speaking of her own son.

You were especially fragile that day anyway, as that was the day that Peeta had been injured and camouflaged himself into the riverbed. He wasn’t dead, though. He wasn’t dead. You kept repeating that to yourself as you walked home, pinching small bites off of the whole loaf and force-feeding yourself. It still tasted like ash in your mouth.

And while all of that may have been a bad dream, this was the waking nightmare.

They had announced that two winners may be crowned so long as they were from the same district. You both loved and hated that announcement, really curious whether they would hold up their end of the bargain. Finally, someone to save Peeta! Katniss had immediately called out his name and started running, and you felt your own pulse spike as hers surely was.

Everything else had happened so quickly you couldn’t spare a thought for it. Until now. As Katniss straightened up from over Peeta, you bit your lip hard. No, there was no way that this was happening. There was no way that Peeta was looking up at the woman he’d never known his whole life as if she was his world. There was no way-

“Katniss, I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything now, Peeta. I know you probably don’t return my feelings-”

“I do,” He interrupted quickly, and you bit your lip harder, tears coming to your eyes from more than just physical pain. “My love for you is like the sun.”

You had turned the tv off then. Its silence had been so staggering, so different from the way you had been living with constant noise assaulting your senses. You didn’t know how long you sat there before eventually letting yourself fall onto your side, closing your eyes and letting the day pass you by.

You continued your usual routine the next day, with an added look from Peeta’s father. It was like he was confused about something- probably why you bothered to keep on trying. Peeta had been rather convincing, after all. Even you believed it. He wouldn’t have said those words if he hadn’t actually meant them. Mr Mellark still gave you a loaf of bread, and the warmth from the food finally sunk into your hands. That’s when she walked out.

“Why are you still giving away precious food to this ingrate?” She had slapped the loaf from your hands, and the cold that seeped back into you felt familiar. “Obviously if she manages to save our son, he won’t be wasting time on this one anymore. Neither should we.”

You left without any fuss and finally turned the tv back on once you arrived home. It took a few hours to finally get a recap of what you had missed during your tantrum, but only a few minutes to realize, thankfully, that Peeta was still alive. No matter how shattered your heart was, he still needed to live. Because if he could live, and live happily with her, then that would be enough.

The games must’ve been going on too long, as the Capitol suddenly sped things up. The final showdown was beginning, and Peeta and Katniss were still both very much alive. You watched in a detached sort of happiness as your district finally won the Hunger Games. Then the announcement happened. Only one victor left standing.

“Kill her, Peeta.”

You would’ve been surprised at the words coming out of your mouth from any other instance. However, this was the Hunger Games. This was Peeta, and this was the woman he had said those words to. You kept mumbling to yourself, begging him to do something as he turned fearful eyes onto her. You knew that if it was yourself inside that arena, he would’ve already been doing whatever he could to make sure you survived. This means that he was likely thinking the same thing now, too. He was trying to find some way to kill himself so Katniss wouldn’t have to.

“Just trust me. If they won’t allow two victors, we won’t give them one.” Katniss had poured those damned berries into his hands, then locked eyes with him and began a countdown. You felt your heart sink with every number she spoke, finally letting your eyes fall closed. You didn’t want to watch his destruction at the hands of the one he loved. You couldn’t bear the thought.

“STOP! Stop!” You opened your eyes, watching both Peeta and Katniss raise their eyes to the sky. “Ladies and gentlemen, I present your victors of the 74th Hunger Games!”

While you knew this meant nothing for your own future, you had cried. You couldn’t find it in yourself to figure out whether the tears were of happiness for Peeta’s survival, or mourning a life that once was. You had finally cried, and let yourself feel all of those burdening emotions, too many of them to handle.

You continued on with your life from there. You worked your useless job, you stopped visiting Peeta’s family, and you came home just to eat bland foods and sleep. You weren’t sure what kind of life this was, whether existing just for the sake of it was worth all the trouble, but you knew that nothing could really get worse, so that meant it could only get better, right?

You hadn’t paid any attention to the days after he survived. You didn’t try to make it to the train station to meet him, you didn’t bother stopping by his old home to see if he visited his family, and you didn’t try to fight your way into Victor’s Square to see him finally. You didn’t even really know when he arrived back in twelve, just that he had at some point. You had even seen Katniss eventually, moving with determination through the district toward her family home. You had averted your gaze immediately, not ready to deal with that trauma.

It was a few days later, late in the evening after work, when you finally heard a knock on your door. It wasn’t common to get visitors, and any that were common didn’t tend to knock. You had frozen at your kitchen sink, in the process of drying your hands after washing what few meagre dishes you owned. Slowly, mechanically, you finished drying off your hands and tried to smooth the wrinkles out of your generic outfit. You took your time walking over to your door, then took a deep breath before opening it.

There he stood, Peeta Mellark. Winner of the 74th Hunger Games, and one-half of the Star-Crossed Lovers. No matter how often you tried to prepare yourself for this moment, nothing helped. Because he was there, in person, so close that you could reach out and touch him. Nothing could prepare you for seeing Peeta and not letting yourself bask in his warmth.

The smile that crossed his face, however, took your breath away. It may have also been the cause of the few tears that escaped your eyes, falling slowly down your cheek. He had been in the middle of saying your name when he noticed them, his smile slowly falling away to an expression of confusion.

“Why haven’t I seen you since I got back?” He asked this as if it was obvious, as if you should’ve been waiting for him. “My father says you stopped coming by sometime toward the end of the games? I was worried something had happened to you.” He says this as if he should care and it burns your chest hotter than any feeling of depression had up to this point.

“Why should I bother?” You had never heard your voice like this, so void of emotion. Peeta hadn’t either, clearly, for the gobsmacked look on his face. “I figured you’d be plenty happy with your new lover.”

“Lover?” His voice was incredulous, and he immediately shook his head before quickly looking over his shoulder. “Can we take this inside?”

“Do you really think that’s a good idea? Don’t you think they might see?” ‘Don’t you think she might see?’

“That’s why we should just-” He huffed, gently placing a hand on your hip and pushing you inside. His touch sent enough of a shock to your system that you obliged, pulling back before taking another few steps backwards. Breathing room, that’s what you needed. You watched him close the door behind him, lock it with your flimsy excuse of a lock, and pull the curtains closed on the front-facing window. “They can’t see the truth.”

“The truth?” You mumbled, crossing your arms and holding them against your chest. Everything felt off-kilter, being in the same room as Peeta and running from his touch. None of this felt right. “I saw the truth clear enough.”

“What are you even talking about?” Peeta took a step toward you finally, and you matched his step backwards. He looked more worried than you had ever seen him, even inside the arena when he should’ve been worrying about his own safety. “Please, just talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

“Why bother fixing things with me?” You couldn’t meet his eyes any longer, not without wanting to throw yourself at the man. But he’s in love with someone else, you had to keep reminding yourself that. “She’s right there now, she lives right across from you. If you didn’t already move into the same house.” The thought, while not entering your head before now, suddenly lived in your brain. That’s all you could see in your mind’s eye, Peeta and Katniss being homely together. You felt physically ill, rubbing your face with your hands as if trying to brush the thought away.

“What?”

“Katniss!” You had finally raised your voice, finally included any sort of emotion in it. It really looks like you weren’t leaving this unscathed. “Go find your new lover, stop wasting your time on me!”

“No,” His voice was quiet, his head shaking ever so slightly back and forth. “I thought if anyone could see through it all, it would’ve been you.”

“See through it?”

“Yeah, see through the ruse.”

“I thought I could too!” You yelled, holding yourself back from a growl. Your arms were thrown on either side of you and you watched Peeta’s hands curl up into a ball. “I thought everything was a ruse- how long, Peeta? How long until it went from something you were acting at to something you were really feeling?”

“Never!”

“Don’t lie to me Peeta!” You choked back a sob, raising a hand to your mouth quickly. Peeta’s expression turned from one of confusion and anger to one of desperation at the sound, taking another step forward. You took another step back. “I heard what you said.”

“What?”

“I heard what you said!” You obligingly repeated what you had originally mumbled, though you didn’t believe for a second that he hadn’t heard you. “What you said to her.”

“Wait-”

“I heard it Peeta, don’t try to deny it.”

“I didn’t-”

“Stop trying to fight this! I heard what you said, I know you love her!”

“I was saying it to you!”

You had never heard Peeta raise his voice so loud. You felt frozen in your spot, breath coming in pants and yet the silence that followed could’ve put a funeral to shame. You watched the shame flow through Peeta, he had never wanted to raise his voice after his past with his family. But he quickly shook off the shock, taking a step forward towards you, and another when you finally didn’t back away. He repeated himself softer, “I was saying it to you.”

“No, you were looking at her.”

“I was looking through her.” Peeta shook his head, looking down. “I would’ve never said it if I knew it caused you such pain.”

“What are you talking about, Peeta?”

“I had to say it.” He took another step closer, shortening the distance between you in the small house surrounding you both. “Don’t you see? I had to say something, I had to play along with the ruse.”

“I can’t handle this,” You mumble, mostly to yourself. This was getting dangerously close to territory that you feared you’d never be able to step into again. If you were forced to leave him again after this small chance of having him back, it would ruin you.

“Please, please,” Peeta took another step closer and finally reached over to take your hand. You numbly let him. “I didn’t want to. They started it in the train on the way to the Capitol, so damned early. Haymitch said if we played the role of lovers we’d get more sponsors. I refused, Katniss refused. That had seemed like the end of it.”

“The role of…?”

“Then they brought it back up during the last interview before the games. Told me to spring it on the audience, and they asked Caesar to ask if I had anyone back home. Told me to say that I didn’t, that the one I loved followed me to the Capitol. I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t lie like that. I wouldn’t have been believable.” He reached forward to take your other hand, and you finally realized you were staring into his bright blue eyes.

“When they made the announcement, Katniss came to find me. I was in bad shape, but I was surviving. I was surviving for you because you told me not to give up. Because I couldn’t just leave you behind with nothing, with no one else.

“She took me to that cave, and when she leaned over to kiss my cheek she whispered to me. She said ‘This is your only chance,’ as if I didn’t have any choice. And honestly- she was right.”

You thought back to how the wound had looked, how it pulsed blood and how you felt like your own heart was pulsing out along with it. You didn’t remember anything after that until you had eventually turned the tv back on. Peeta had recovered, somehow.

“We played the lovers act to get sponsors. We played the lovers act to win. Please, you have to know,” Peeta took another step closer to you, bringing you two chest to chest. “I wasn’t going to eat the berries. I was scared when they announced there would be only one winner because I would have to fight her, and she was strong. She had already proven it. But when she concocted that stupid plan, I wasn’t going to do it. I wasn’t willing to die for whatever stupid point she wanted to prove to the Capitol. I was going to watch her swallow those berries, and then spit mine out. I was going to win, for you.”

“Peeta,” Your voice was breathless, but he had finally fallen quiet. He looked so pained, and you took your hand from one of his to raise it to his cheek, letting your thumb drag across his cheekbone. “Is this real? I can’t-” You choke back a sob, feeling the tears roll down your cheeks. “I can’t lose you again.”

“I said those words for you,” Peeta repeated softly, letting his head fall forward to rest against your forehead. “It was a message. I was trying to tell you I still loved you.”

“I heard it wrong,” You mumbled incredulously, huffing out a laugh, “This whole time, I heard it wrong.”

“My love for you is like the sun,” He repeats, closing his eyes, “Always shining, and always there.”

You tipped forward quickly and slotted your mouth with his, and he finally released your hand to place on your hips, pulling you flush against him. You were so scared to never get this again, and yet it felt so familiar to you regardless. Peeta moaned low in his throat, attempting to pull you closer, and you finally wrapped your arms around him. It was at this moment you knew, Peeta was finally home.

[peetaslefttoe]

can I request Peeta x reader smut where reader and Peeta are together but when Katniss and Peeta return home after winning the first games they have to pretend to be in a relationship because of Snow and the reader is hurt because she thinks it’s real but Peeta reassured her and it leads to smut? Thank u!

warnings: p in v, praise, oral f receiving, AFAB reader

summary: request above 🫶

authors note: absolutely i love this idea, thanks sm for the request i hope it’s good as it’s my first, love you lots xx this is slightly unedited so excuse any spelling mistakes

Masterlist Pinned xx

Today was the day Peeta would step off the train back into District 12. You’d been waiting for this day since his name was called and he stood on stage beside Katniss. You had endured days of tears, nightmares and stress, as you anxiously awaited the return of your boyfriend. You were unbelievably happy that he was alive, that he had beaten ever odd and won the 74th Hunger Games. But despite your glee you couldn’t help but feel a darkness rating away at your heart. Katniss. He’d left you behind in the arena, you’d never forget the way your heart dropped and your stomach burned when you saw their lips touch. You’d recognized the look painted on Gale’s face as he watched the screens, you’d recognized it because your displayed the same face of shock and heartbreak. 

The train from the Capital pulls into the station. You rush forward through the crowd of families waiting to greet the winners. Finally you reach the front, standing beside Gale and Prim you peer out at the train. It feels as if minutes have passed when you finally see Katniss’s face appear out of the door. And behind her trails Peeta. You glance downwards to see their hands entwined. Tears pool in your eyes and you turn away into Gales embrace.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this,” you finally said against Gales chest before turning back and running through the crowd. You slammed the door of your house and slumped down on your bed in silence. Sobs racking your body as tears streamed down your red cheeks.

Suddenly the door opened once more and you heard Peeta’s voice ring out.

“Y/N! Are you in here?” he called, desperately. You couldn’t stop crying to respond. He slowly pushed open the door to your bedroom and his eyes darkened when he saw your tears.

“I’m so sorry, fuck- i’m so so sorry Y/N” he said, grasping you as he sat beside you.

“You left me behind, you love her?” you finally gasped struggling in his embrace.

“No, Y/N look at me,” he tilted your chin, your eyes meeting his. “I promise you, you’re the only one I’ve ever loved. It was an act, an act to keep us alive. I don’t know how to prove it to you,” he whispers.

“Oh Peeta,” you broke down sobbing once again, clinging to his strong arms. Finally you leaned back and wiped your tears from your face, sniffling and looking up at him once more. Suddenly he grasped your face in his hands and your lips met. He kissed you feverishly, gasping for breath and pulling you impossibly close.

“Let me prove it to you Y/N, let me prove that you’re the only one I’ll ever love, please,” he begged, kissing down your neck slowly.

“Oh god, please- I missed you so much Peeta,” you scrambled to pull off his shirt, groaning to his tanned skin. You leaned down to kiss up his torso, suckling at his sensitive skin. He groaned and threw his head back, wrapping a firm hand into your hair.

“Please, please let me fuck you, Y/N I love you,” he whined, looking down at you. You leaned back, giving him a chance to slide your dress over your head. He pushed you back onto the bed, hovering over you as he kissed across your chest and down to your stomach. You moaned against his firm kiss as you reached for his belt buckle. He caught your hand and held you back.

“Such a greedy girl Y/N, did you miss this cock? Hm? It’s all for you baby, only for you.” he smirked and kissed you again before leaning back and unbuckling his pants. They dropped to the floor with his boxes revealing his hard length against his stomach. You stifled a moan as you reached for his cock.

“Ah ah ah, this is about you, lay back down” Peeta said lowly, a firm hand pushing you back into the mattress. He smiled at you before yanking off your panties. His fingers gripped onto your hips, surely leaving bruises. He held you down as he buried his face in your heat. His warm mouth suckled at your clit. You moaned at the contact and thrust up into his face. He placed a hand on your stomach pushing you down against the bed as he continued his assault. He lapped at your folds, bringing his other hand down to circle your sensitive bud. Slowly he slid his tongue into your weeping hole, fucking you slowly as you ground against him.

“Please Peeta,” you gasped out, “please fuck me, take me I’m yours,”

“I’m yours Y/N all yours,” he took your hand in his and spat in it. You whimpered at the sight and brought your hand to his hard cock, mixing his spit with precum. He groaned slightly at the motion before grasping your wrists in his and pinning you against the sheets. He lined up with your hole and inched into you.

“Fuck, always so- perfect, god- you take me so well,” He slowly rammed into you.

“Faster Peeta, please,” you groaned, pulling his hips into you and wrapping your legs around his waist, bringing him deeper.

“Anything for you,” he leaned down pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips before slamming into you roughly. He snapped his hips into yours, panting into your mouth.

“You’re so beautiful, I missed you- uh— so much, please oh, you feel so good around me,” he gasped against your lips.

“Please let me touch you darling,” you said. He obliged, releasing your wrists from his hold and moving his hands to your waist, pulling you into his thick cock. You ran your hands up his back tangling them in his dirty blonde locks before cupping his face.

“You’re so pretty Peeta,” you slurred as he pounded you. He beamed down at you, enveloping you in a deep kiss.

“I’m gonna- uh” he struggled in an attempt to pull out.

“Shh Peeta, you can cum in me, please fill me up, please” you begged him, stroking his flushed cheeks. He whimpered at your words before thrusting deep into you. You slid over the edge, shaking and clenching around his cock as his warm seed filled you. He fucked you through your high, planting soft kisses on your head. Slowly he started to pull out.

“Wait, Peeta, can you stay? In… me?”

“Of course I’ll stay Y/N” he reassured you, brushing the hair out of your face. “I’ll always stay,” he rolled you both onto your sides, facing one another.

“I love you so much Peeta, I was so afraid that you didn’t love me anymore, I- I was so scared Peeta,” you held his soft face in your hands, looking into his beautiful eyes.

“Oh Y/N, I could never stop loving you, and I never will, I promise,” He pulled you into a deep, warm kiss.

That night he held you closer than ever, never moving until the sun shone through the curtains and he propped his head up to watch your face glimmer in the daylight.

[stevesbipanic]

Amnesia AU but it's like in the Hunger Games where Peeta lost his memories and Katniss helped him remember. After Vecna tortured Eddie's mind as Kas, Eddie forgot most of his happy memories with the party and Steve and can't tell what was a real memory and what was fake, Steve helps him remember, helps him know what's real.

You love me?

Real.

[anxiousfanchild]

The Haymitch headcanons were so good aaaaaaa There is so little of him it's always so so exciting finding more content for him.

Wondering if you would be willing to do more about those rare midday naps? Pretty please? The man truly needs the rest

Word Count: 668

Content Warnings: Alcholism/Alchol mention; Haymitch being Haymitch

Requests are open and encouraged!

Donations towards my wedding are accepted: Ko-fi

A/N: I will ALWAYS accept Haymitch requests, I love this cranky little man so much! I hope you enjoy Anon!

It was something about Thursdays that Haymitch hated so much. Maybe it was like false hope, that the week was almost over, but just not quite there yet. Or maybe it was the only day Katniss and Peeta decided to leave him alone, leaving him to his thoughts. You weren’t sure, but you knew he needed to just relax. 

Your footsteps were quiet as you made your way up to the front door of his recently rebuilt house. Something about the familiarity made him want to come back in the midst of the rebuild. With a soft hand, you raise it and knock on the front door. The silence lasted a little too long for your comfort as you reached down and tried the handle. Locked, you aren’t sure what exactly you were expecting. 

With a soft sigh, you would crouch down, checking under the doormat for the extra key. A happy gasp indicates your found the key as you straighten back up. As soon as you insert the key, the door opens, revealing a disheveled Haymitch, the nauseating scent of tequila following him. You could barely contain your scowl, looking up at your… Friend? Lover? You don’t really know what you could classify him as, the thought of even giving your relationship a title made your head all fuzzy. 

Haymitch cocks an eyebrow, eyes staring directly into yours. 

“3:00pm, on the dot. Every Thursday.” He comments, glancing down at the watch on his wrist that you knew didn’t work. The observation nonetheless drew heat to your cheeks. 

“I like my routines.” You started coolly, following his own tone. The way you mimicked him brought just the faintest of teasing smirks to his lips, as he crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. You tilt your head, crossing your arms in retaliation, the same smirk tugging at the corners of your own lips. 

“Can I enter?”

“Are you a vampire or some shit?”

He nonetheless steps aside and allows you to enter. The floor of the entrance way was a mess, empty bottles and wrappers littering the sticky floor. You cringe, not even trying to hide it, as you make your way to the couch in the living room. Same routine, every Thursday. He was right behind you, before sitting onto the plush couch with a grunt. You watch as he got comfortable, head on the arm of the sofa, one leg propped up and the other stretched across the other arm. 

You wait for permission, a simple head nod, before settling yourself into his chest. The scent of old cologne, alcohol, and sweat. You would have to attempt to convince him to take a shower later, but that was a problem for the future. Your head settles comfortably in the area between his neck and chest, nose brushing against the buttons of his shirt. 

You could have sworn you heard a sigh of relief from him as he wrapped his arms around your frame. His warmth was enough to instantly put you at ease, eyes sliding closed with sudden drowsiness. You could feel one of his hands trace small patterns into the back of your shirt, like he was making sure you were real. Once he was convinced, his hands would slow to a stop, his breathing leveling out. 

You know it wouldn’t be a deep sleep, but it would be enough to relax him. You shift ever so slightly to look up at his face, which was still rough and stressed, even in sleep. Your eyes trace over every wrinkle, every line and bump, before settling on his closed eyes. 

With a sigh, you close your eyes again. It was impossible, being so close to him, being able to see him in such a vulnerable position, but not being allowed to call him yours. You knew this was for the best though, cuddle sessions and drinking nights together. It was the closest you’ll ever get to him. 

You were okay with it, for now.

[katnissmellarkkk]

Hiiii! I wanted to write a little something simple for Everlark and decided to lowkey mix two requests! “A kiss on the chest” and “Katniss learning what they did to Peeta in MJ and kissing his scars”. It was supposed to be set Post-Mockingjay but I instead made it a sequel to my “Peeta wasn’t hijacked in MJ reunion oneshot AU”. If you haven’t read it, it’s fine, the title right there tells you everything necessary to know 😂.

I hope everyone who reads this likes it! I loved writing it and I would really appreciate anyone who enjoyed this to like/reblog! It makes me so so so happy 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹. Also thank you to all my constant encouragers, you guys make my day with all your sweetness 🥹🥹🥹🥹.

Summary : Katniss learns more about what they did to Peeta in the Capitol and sets out to try and make him better. [Non - Hijacked Peeta Mockingjay AU].

-

Burned. Check mark.

Whipped. Check mark.

Starved. Check mark.

Shocked. Check mark.

Tortured (with water and [redacted][redacted]). Check mark.

I toss the file back onto the table where it was left by Peeta’s doctors, unable to stare at it any longer. Unable to stomach reading every which way Peeta was harmed while held prisoner in the Capitol. Again. I’ve already read it upwards of ten times tonight.

It never gets easier. Reading the extensive list of his injuries, reading the details they managed to pry out of him, visualizing what horrible acts were done to to him, listening to his doctors confer among themselves in sympathy and disgust, they themselves deeply disturbed by what he experienced at the hand of the president himself.

“Sweetheart, would you make up your mind?” Haymitch snaps. He’s in the worst mood he’s been in a while.

“Huh?” I furrow my brow and glare up at him.

“Either read that thing or stop messing with it.” He indicates toward Peeta’s file. “I’ve sat here and watched you throw it down and pick it back up a dozen times already. It’s pathetic.”

“You’re pathetic, Haymitch,” I say back but there’s little bite in my tone. I’m too preoccupied with the image of Peeta trapped in a freezing cold cell, naked and bloody and alone and terrified, and it’s driving me absolutely insane. It’s suffocating me, from the inside out. It’s taking up all of the space in my head, leaving no room for even bickering with Haymitch.

And Haymitch knows it too.

Of course, he of all people should be able to read me. After all, the same stupid file — and his crippling remorse — is undoubtedly what’s put Haymitch in such an awful mood in the first place.

“Just go see him, Katniss,” he murmurs, giving me a pointed look. “Go. You’re of no use to him just sitting out here, reading about what’s already been done. Get up and go see him.”

He’s right and I know it. As much as I hate to admit it, I know Haymitch has me there.

But still, I stall. It’s not that I don’t want to see Peeta. The opposite, in fact. Since his rescue thirty-seven days ago — not that I’m counting exactly — I’ve spent copious amounts of time with him. I’ve spent every waking moment that I could in his presence and as many of my sleeping ones that I’m allowed.

The doctors aren’t really thrilled about our arrangement there. They want to keep watch on Peeta as he sleeps, to watch and study and take notes and examine him further, but evidently it’s rather hard to analyze his nightmares with me wrapped around his torso all night, like a protective pretzel.

It’s not that I don’t want to see Peeta right now. It’s the fact that I don’t think I can look him in the eye, after reading exactly what those monsters Snow hired did to him, and pretend it isn’t all my fault.

“I don’t think the doctors are done with him…” I mumble, avoiding Haymitch’s eyes now.

“Cut the crap, Sweetheart.”

“Go away, Haymitch.”

“Go see the boy or I’ll find a way for you to spend tomorrow filming a propo.”

I glare at him again. “Would you stop?”

“Coin is getting hungry for some new ones.”

“Okay, fine, you win!” I exclaim, springing up out of my chair. “Congratulations, Haymitch. You blackmailed me into going to see my own boyfriend. Happy?” I hiss, kicking him in the shin as I walk past his chair.

Not hard enough to hurt him apparently. Not even hard enough for him to care. Instead he picks apart my wording with a smirk. “Your boyfriend? How darn cute.”

“Shut up,” I call as I exit the room.

The last thing I hear is him making loud, obnoxious kissing sounds in my wake.

-

I slip past the doctors, both the head and the medical, and beyond the nurses and supply carts and trays of food, into the room where I’ve spent more hours in the last month than I can count on two hands.

“Hi,” Peeta whispers softly as I close the door behind me. He’s shirtless, in bed and seemingly half-asleep already, laying on his side beneath the sheets. Waiting for me.

He looks so much better than he did the night of his rescue. His bruises are healing nicely, he’s gaining weight and muscle back, his hair is clean and curly again — thanks to me and Thirteen’s strong, medicinal shampoo — and his skin is starting to lose that scary, pale, translucent look.

But he’s still so hurt. He’s still injured — internally far more than externally — and I swear, I can feel my heart swell up and break into pieces just looking at him too long.

“Hi, baby,” I murmur softly, crawling beneath the blankets and folding him into my arms. Even with all the weight lost, he’s much too large for me to hold completely, so I make due wrapping my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist and stroking the back of his head tenderly.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he says, burying his face where my neck and shoulder meet.

A wave of guilt ripples through me. “Sorry I took so long.”

But he shakes his head, still having no room for spite in his body. Even after everything he’s been through, he’s still so sweet. He’s still so warm and kind and generous.

Well, towards me at least. The same can’t be said for his behavior toward Haymitch, who he blames for leaving us both in the dark about the rebellion.

“You were worth the wait,” he whispers. “You’re worth every wait.”

I feel myself blush and cover it swiftly by kissing his cheek. “How was your tests today?” I ask, smoothing his hair back.

He shoots me a sardonic look now and I giggle like a little kid. Every day when his dry humor peaks through the darkness, I get filled with ridiculous, unparalleled — uncharacteristic — delight.

“Still tedious as ever?” I murmur, rubbing his shoulder with my pointer finger.

“Boring as ever,” he mumbles before closing his eyes again. He’s clearly exhausted from all the probing they did today. And I know I should sleep too.

I usually sleep whenever he sleeps, wake only when the doctors make me leave, spend as much time with him as I can before getting sent away. But tonight I just can’t. I can’t make my brain shut off, despite the fact that at least half the compound is in bed, the other not far behind.

And of course, even tired as he is, even with everything going on in his mind, he still notices my distress.

“What is it?” He whispers, not even opening his eyes.

“Hmm?” I feign oblivion.

“Katniss, I can see something’s wrong.” He opens his baby blues, peaking down at me through his long, tangled up lashes. He has the longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen on a boy.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I reassure him, kissing his upper arm because it’s the closest thing within my reach.

“You saw my file?” He’s fully awake and coherent now, his voice much stronger than before. His tone leaves no room for question, even if I could lie straight to his face.

“Yes,” I whisper, feeling suddenly nervous he’ll be angry. Maybe it was an invasion of privacy to read it, I don’t know. The doctors left it out, I just assumed it was okay. “Are you mad?”

“No.” He chuckles lightly before moving his hand down to my hip, tugging me closer if even possible. “No, I don’t care. Read it as much as you want.”

He really means it too. He really doesn’t care if I invade his privacy, dig into his business and overstep my bounds. I don’t know if I’d be so generous if the situation were reversed.

Then again, going by the things I just read, he’s already been tortured and humiliated beyond belief. I doubt he has any concern for privacy left.

“You can ask me anything, you know,” Peeta says after a minute and I cup his cheek in my hand, shaking my head instinctively. I can’t ask him to talk about what they did. That would be cruel.

Instead I lean up and kiss him on the mouth, slowly and softly. Conveying every feeling I have for him, conveying every ounce of affection and gratitude and longing pent up inside me.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, Peeta,” I whisper against his lips.

I feel his hand cradle the back of my head, massaging my scalp. “I don’t want to keep anything from you,” he finally says, resting his forehead against mine. “Not anything that you want to know.”

My eyes fall, breaking contact with his. I have questions, yes — understatement if I ever heard one — but I refuse to pry and I’m terrified to ask and I don’t even know where to begin after what I read.

But then something catches my attention. A thick, red, angry line, splayed right in the middle of Peeta’s chest. It stands out vividly against his pale skin and blonde chest hair and I can’t look away from it now.

“What’s this?” I murmur, running my finger lightly across the surface, clocking the way Peeta cringes a little at the contact. “Does that hurt?”

He looks at the wall behind my head for a long moment before nodding. “That’s from a whip.” He meets my gaze again before casting his eyes low. “I don’t remember what I did to earn it.”

“Nothing,” I immediately gasp, my head shaking and brows knitting together. The idea that Peeta earned anything that happened in that mansion blasphemous to my ears. “You did nothing, baby.”

“I know,” he agrees, pressing his lips to my forehead lightly. “I just can’t remember why they whipped me that day.”

That day. Because there’s so many days where he was whipped to choose from. Of course.

My eyes land on another mark, this one dark purple and almost circular, high up on his torso, almost on his shoulder. It’s not a bruise, although at first glance it could be mistaken for one. No, it’s definitely a scar. From what, I can’t tell.

I trace it with my thumb, rubbing it back and forth. It’s raised and rough to the touch, a little jagged even, like it never properly healed.

His hand comes up to touch my arm, almost out of reflex, halting my ministrations. “That’s from the early days,” he explains, with almost a touch of humor in his voice. “They were more creative then… and they had a lot of matches on hand.”

It takes me a beat to figure out what he means by matches. “Fire? Fire matches, Peeta?”

“Yeah.” He nods sheepishly. “Snow had a big supply evidently.”

“I will burn him alive,” I say through gritted teeth before I can think better of it.

“Calm down, firecracker,” Peeta laughs but I’m fuming. I’m fuming mad and ready to fight at a moments notice. I probably could even make a half-decent propo right now, the amount of venom coursing through my veins.

I encourage my own anger, feed it, in fact. Because I want to be angry. I want to feel this rage.

Because if I don’t, I’ll start crying. And that’ll only serve to make Peeta feel even worse. Which I can’t let happen.

I’ve already done that too many times.

I don’t tell him any of what I’m thinking. Nothing good could come from that. Instead I search for a way to mask my anger, protect him from seeing it.

I stretch up and press a kiss against the corner of Peeta’s mouth, traveling to his chin, down the side of his neck and over his collarbone.

He responds by letting out a deep sigh, clearly enjoying the attention.

I journey further down his body until my lips land on his chest, exactly where his scar is.

“What are you doing?” He asks breathlessly, peering down at me now. “You don’t have to-“

“Let me,” I whisper, tracing it again with my finger. He shudders a little at the contact. “Let me make it better.”

I hear him swallow hard. “Okay.” He nods a little, quietly inhaling and exhaling.

I lean in slowly and press my lips to the mark, the whip scar, soft and tender.

I can feel him relax beneath me, deflating almost. I don’t sense any sign of discomfort, so I take that as my cue to continue on, kissing the same spot again and again, moving up and down the length of his wound, creating a circuit and following it repeatedly, waiting until he tells me to stop.

“Katniss,” he murmurs, sounding almost pained, like my name hurts.

“Yeah?“

“Thank you.” His voice is almost inaudible, almost a praise or a plea. Tears leak out the corners of his tired eyes.

I have to fight to keep my lip from trembling, to stop myself from crying too. Instead I crawl up his body, keeping my legs wrapped around his waist and fold my arms loosely around his neck.

“Let me kiss them all,” I say into his skin. My mouth travels across the top of his shoulder, my eyes closed, moving by the touch of my lips alone, not stopping until I land on his burn.

I press kiss after kiss into the bumpy, rough scar, until I feel Peeta’s breathing even out against me. I feel his heart beating against me and his chest rise and fall with mine, and an ember of hope that my method may be working grows stronger.

“Roll over for me,” I urge, keeping my voice as gentle as my touch.

“You don’t have to do them all,” he says but I can tell he’s enjoying this immensely. I can tell this helping him more than any treatment the doctors have recommended.

“I want to, Peeta,” I insist, no question in my tone.

Slowly and lethargically, he complies, rolling over so his back is facing me. I keep my hold on him, both my arms and legs wrapped around him like a baby animal clings to their mother.

He has a plethora of scars and wounds on his back. More than I’ve been able to stomach yet. Not once since his rescue have I been able to truly face the sight before me now.

I begin at the top, resting the palms of my hands on his shoulder blades, pressing my mouth to the center of his spine, to the back of his neck, the back of his ribs, anywhere with a painful mark or dark bruise.

I keep going, never tiring, as if I can kiss him better. As if my kiss can take away everything that’s happened, everything that I unintentionally caused and everything I ache to go back and stop. I kiss him like I can make him whole again. Like I can heal his fractured heart.

Eventually he relaxes underneath me, his breathing evens out again and he goes slack.

Even then, I keep kissing him. Even in his sleep, I refuse to stop trying to heal his hurt.

“I love you, Peeta,” I whisper against his arm, knowing full well that he cannot hear me anymore. “I love you and I’m so sorry that I couldn’t save you from this. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

My lips are still on his back when the doctors order me out of the room.

-

[bbyannabeth]

silly little everlark drabble based on this post bc i couldn't get it out of my head xo

katniss’s breath falls even again after about ten minutes. he’s surprised it took that long considering it took almost an hour to talk her down from her nightmare. 

they’d only been sharing her bed for a week now, but peeta can’t help but feel like this is exactly where he was supposed to be. in the few months he’d been home before this, he had been able to hear her screams from across their lawns and he’d wanted nothing more than to help her. it hadn’t been his place, though. 

until he mentioned something to her once about how he could hear her and she’d reminded him of their nights on the train when he would rush into her room, hold her in his arms until she was quiet again. 

“we started sharing a bed, right?” he had asked.

“real,” she’d nodded. “effie gave us shit for it, but i never cared.”

“i remember we both started sleeping better.”

katniss had nodded. a moment of silence had passed between them before she said, quietly, “would you… want to do that again?”

he’d jumped at the opportunity and he��s barely been to his own house since. he likes her house more, anyway. there are more memories of life. peeta’s family had stayed at the bakery when he moved into victor’s village so his house is filled with nothing but loneliness. katniss’s house has ghosts but at least there are happy memories, too. 

he looks down at her, the way she’s resting against his chest. it was like clockwork, the way they fell back into each other so quickly. he’s almost amazed at how she can do this. he’d tried to kill her at one point, not too long ago, and now she sleeps on his chest with her guard completely down. 

though, he supposes it’s not too different for him. he’d been forced to fear this girl like his life depended on it, and now he has no issues trusting her when his mind is in the right spot. on days when he has his flashbacks, it’s another story but they both know that’s not really him.

carefully, so as not to wake her, he brushes her hair back from her forehead. she leaves it down most days now, and he loves it. she only braids it when she goes hunting or on particularly windy days she doesn’t want it in her face. 

even as gentle as he was, katniss shifts slightly at the movement. she doesn’t wake, but her hand curls into his shirt. she lets out a quiet sigh, almost peaceful. 

he isn’t sure what it is about the moment, but the realization slams into him. 

i love you, he thinks. 

nothing about it should be shocking, because hasn’t he always loved her? but again, the capitol had forced him to believe katniss was his biggest enemy. he hadn’t even realized until this moment that the love he’d once felt for her has been creeping its way back into his brain. now that it’s there, though, he thinks it was inevitable. peeta mellark was made to love katniss everdeen.

he isn’t sure what to do with himself for a moment. he wants to tell her, wants to kiss her, wants to do something to show her that he’s still really here. not even snow’s worst could take all of him away from her. but he knows doing something drastic will only scare her. they’re only beginning to mend things. 

he places his hand on top of hers, resting them nearly over his heart. his thumb glides over her knuckle. i love you, he repeats in his head over and over again, hoping she’ll catch the message in her dream. 

if there ever comes a moment that’s right, he’ll tell her. for now, though, he’s okay with letting this feeling live inside him. he always has been. 

[toastyeverlark]

“So, how’s it working out with Peeta?” 

Katniss doesn’t turn to look, and instead continues trimming the delphiniums in the garden. 

“It’s going great. He’s very good to me.”

Katniss cringes upon hearing the soles of Ines’ shoes crush against the freshly-mown grass.

“Peeta’s good to everyone, though,” Ines grins like a cat.

“And he should be. Isn’t it just something a decent human being should be doing?”

Ines digs her foot into the grass. “Of course it is. What I mean is, you’re not all that special to him, Katniss Everdeen. This marriage will end sooner or later, and it’ll be Peeta who instigates it.”

“And you’re quite a pathetic attention-seeker, aren’t you?” Katniss drops the pair of shears and turns to face her.

“You don’t know anything about Peeta Mellark, do you?” Ines trails around the garden, her every step aggressive and rough as her shoes dig into the ground, causing striking damage to the greenery.

“You don’t know that he doesn’t take sugar in his tea,” Ines stops to pluck a flower from a bush. Katniss had just prepared him a cup of tea with a whole pack of sugar in it a couple of days ago, which he had finished without a drop left in the cup.

“You don’t know that he likes to sleep with the windows open,” Ines tosses the flower behind her. Katniss had asked on their first night together if it was alright for the windows to be shut, and he had told her he liked sleeping with the windows shut as well.

“You don’t know anything,” Ines looks at Katniss in the eye, “You don’t know anything because you didn’t grow up with him, you two aren’t meant to be together, and this whole marriage of yours is just a miserable twist of fate.”

Katniss glares at her without a word, her fists clenched. 

Ines, satisfied with her reaction, twirls around and walks away as if nothing had happened.

Katniss picks up the shears and goes back to trimming the delphiniums, and somehow it gives her some sort of comfort, but not for long. A tear rolls down her cheek.

-

Katniss doesn’t even notice that the front door’s been opened and shut. She doesn’t even notice when Peeta announces his arrival while kicking off his socks and shoes at the door.

She sits sullenly on the floor of their bedroom, staring at a spot on the wall.

“Katniss?” Peeta lightly taps her shoulder, which startles her. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you okay?”

“Oh, uh yeah, yeah. I’m fine. How’s the bakery today?”

“I brought back your favourite. Let’s have it in the kitchen,” he smiles and helps her up and leads her to the kitchen table, where a delicious-smelling loaf of raisin-and-nut bread sat.

“I had some spare time today, so I decided to make this for you since you haven’t had it in a while. It’s just the way you like it,” Peeta says as he slices the loaf into pieces with a knife.

He places a slice on her plate, “Have it while it’s warm. I ran home from the bakery just so it wouldn’t cool.”

“Thank you, Peeta,” Katniss takes a bite and breaks out into a grin. “You never disappoint.”

Peeta observes her quietly as he eats his own slice. Normally, she would be telling him about her day and rave about how she was getting better at managing the garden, something she never imagined she would be able to do.

For some reason, the crumb of bread on the table is seemingly more interesting to Katniss tonight.

“Peeta?”

“Hm?” 

“I didn’t realise you like your tea without sugar.”

He stares at her, surprised. “It’s fine. I like it both ways actually.”

“You could’ve told me the other day when I dumped a whole pack of sugar into your tea, you know.”

Peeta laughs. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not that important whether I have sugar in my tea or not. You prepared it for me, and that’s all that matters.”

Katniss sighs. “You didn’t tell me you like to sleep with the windows open either. This isn’t how it’s supposed to work, you know. It’s supposed to be me and you. Not just me.”

Peeta smiles, and pulls her chair towards him. He takes her hands and massages them gently.

“I want it to be just you.”

“We’re in an arranged marriage, Peeta. It’s not like the movies, it doesn’t always work out. I don’t know much about you, I’ve never really done anything for you. You’ve been the one doing everything for me. And for some reason, you seem to know me so well with everything that you do.”

“Katniss,” he looks down at her hands and then her face. “Why do you think that of yourself? Just because Ines tells you that you don’t know about my preference to sleep with the windows open and to have no sugar in my tea, you think this relationship is doomed? Why haven’t you thought about how you decided to learn gardening because I told you that I like gardening? Why haven’t you thought about how you always save the best parts of the game you hunt for me? I’m still learning about you, Katniss, I’m still finding more parts of you to love everyday, as if there isn’t enough to love about you already. I know you’re doing the same.”

He reaches out to hold her face and pulls her in for a long kiss. 

“Okay?”

Katniss nods with an embarrassed smile, her cheeks red and her head dizzy.

“How did you know about Ines?” 

Peeta snorts. “I guessed that she’s been trying to give you some ideas. Ines has always been annoying, even when we were kids. I hoped that she would grow out of it, but I guess some people are just like that forever.”

Katniss chuckles. “Shall we sleep with the windows open tonight?”

“Katniss.”

[everlarking-always]

...

“You watch him a lot, you know.”

Prim’s words pulled Katniss from the trance she’d been in, eyes fixed on a point across the room. Not a random point, as her sister had remarked, but fixed on a person.

“Who?” she asked faintly, not wanting to admit Prim was right.

“Peeta.”

Of course she wasn’t letting it go that easily.

Several cafeteria tables away, Peeta was sitting with Delly and some people from District 13. The group seemed in good spirits, laughing and chatting. Katniss tried to remember if she had ever heard Peeta laugh so uproariously but couldn’t recall a time. Though, to be fair, most of the time they spent together hadn’t taken place during remotely amusing circumstances.

She couldn’t help admiring the way his face brightened when he laughed.

“He seems happy,” Katniss said in lieu of a response. She didn’t have a good one anyway.

Since being rescued from the Quarter Quell and taken in by 13, she and Peeta hadn’t crossed paths much. Their schedules didn’t line up in the least. She was being trained for combat and shooting rebellious “propos”, while he had been assigned to the kitchen where his baking skills were being put to good use. Plutarch raved about how good it looked on screen - Peeta feeding the troops while she lead them on the front lines.

“He told me he likes working in the kitchen,” Prim replied. “I think it helps take his mind off things.”

Katniss hummed noncommittally, suddenly very focused on her soup. Apparently Peeta was talking to everyone except her.

The younger girl rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “You know, if you want to spend time with him, all you have to do is start up a conversation. Now that you don’t have The Capitol watching your every move, it might be different.“

“Different than what?”

“Katniss,” Prim said with a sigh. “You deserve to be happy too.“

...

[mybeautifulbeautifuleternal]

Finnick’s thrashing woke you. Blinking up at the ceiling for a second, you gathered your thoughts before you turned to your husband. Thrashing might have been an overstatement — Finnick’s nightmares tended to leave him quietly wounded and your shared years in the Capital had taught you the power and protection of silence, so the two of you had a tendency to cry without sound or much movement.

But for your husband? The small aborted movements would be a full on seizure on anyone else.

Sighing deeply, you moved to the floor next to his side of the bed. You had been helping him wake from nightmares for years now, the two of you were each other's pillars of strength in the vipers den, and neither of you were comfortable with someone looming over them when awakening from a nightmare.

Reaching up from your spot, you slowly grabbed Finnick’s hand in yours. It was a light hold, easily broken but also easily felt. Then you started to hum and sing. It was just little tunes — lullabies you remembered your mother singing to you as you were growing up, sea ditties that the fishermen of District Four had taught you, some pretty perverted bar songs you’d picked up in your ‘rebellious’ years. Anything that would bring Finnick away from the nightmares and to a better time.

When it looked like he was calming down, you leaned closer to him, still on the ground. “Can you hear me? Can you wake up, my Finnick?”

It took a few more rounds of singing and asking him to wake before you caught sight of his beautiful green eyes, still hazy with sleep and shining with tears. When he finally focused them on you, you brought his hand to your lips — gently placing butterfly soft kisses on the tips of his fingers.

“Back with me?” Your tone was pure questioning, not accusatory. Everyone had nightmares.

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” Finnick’s voice was gravely but his words were kind as was his pull on your hand. He used his tightening grip to heave you up from the ground and back into his arms, rolling the two of you over until he was perched above you.

The moon was full and provided enough light that you could see each other perfectly well, so you saw when Finnick allowed his walls to crack again. He buried his face in your neck, laying out across you. You just restarted singing a slow song, running your fingers through his hair, and did your best to ignore the wet spot that was growing on your shoulder.

Everyone breaks at one point but you loved Finnick enough to be his shelter from the storm, the rock to hold him down from his spiraling thoughts, and the arms he could cry in without judgement.

@febuwhump

A/N — any blank blogs that follow me are going to be reported then blocked. Pick a different profile pic and get a witty header or something.

[mellarked-katnisseverdeen]

hello! Can you maybe do a post-mj drabble on the morning after “real” aka everlark’s first time? Maybe some awkward fluff and them acknowledging that what happened the night before? bonus if you could add some smut in it 😉 Thanks a bunch!

A/N- So, hehe, didn't do 100% of of this prompt. But I got real close I think. This was VERY fun to write. Went for something very close to what I could ACTUALLY see being written in this particular spot in MJ if it were to be added. Not sure if I nailed it or not, but I had fun and love the result. Hope you all enjoy as well.

Katniss doesn't think much, if anything, is different as she comes out of the haze of sleep. It was normal, waking up against Peeta's chest by now.

It's only as she fully regains consciousness that the major change between them is noticeable. Peetas chest, instead of being clothed in an old light sleep shirt, is bare. There are no clothes on him under the covers either, and she is just as naked. It's enough to jumpstart her heart from its initial resting pace and force her eyes open wide.

The night before comes flooding back and she blushes, but the nerves diminish. It had been a long time coming, them finally taking this step. But it makes her no less bashful. Not for a lack of enjoying it- if anything, the blush that rises in her cheeks is caused by how much she was pleased by all of it than anything else. Had there not been a distinct soreness between her legs she would easily be tempted into it again eagerly.

If they hadn't been together before, there was no doubt now. Last night Peeta was hers as much as she was his. He'd finally asked, and she told him real.

For the first time, she thinks about a toasting. Would be thrown off if she were to ask something like that? Should she wait? In an attempt to temper herself, Katniss reasons they have a great deal of time to work out all of that. Settling on the exciting feeling of wanting that, something in the future again.

It must be that which makes Peeta stir from his sleep. Gently shifting under her as he wakes and takes in his surroundings. Katniss stifles a laugh at feeling go through the realization as she had. At first, his whole body goes stiff, then melts as he remembers last night. When he uses his arm around her to hold her close, she decides to let him know she's awake and moves her hand to hold his.

Their eyes open and meet, and a second of nerves pass through her again. Katniss hopes desperately things haven't changed. It wasn't so long ago they'd learned to speak- truly and openly speak- to one another again. As beautiful as last night was she doesn't know if she could handle that changing.

"Morning." He says, voice still sleepy with a wide, bright smile on his face.

Katniss breaths, and moves forward to kiss him. "Hi."

"We slept in, it seems." He says, briefly glancing at the window filtering a bath of spring light into the bedroom.

"It does. I don't want to go anywhere though." She says, trying for a mirthful smile. Though there is also no small amount of relief at the ease of the conversation.

"Am I being kept here, then?" He asks.

"Afraid so," Katniss admits and holds him tighter.

That earns her laugh and a deep kiss which she returns.

[nyctophicbtch]

Critters - Peeta Mellark

[ Peeta Mellark x reader]

Summary: You were a victor from district 5 in the 74th hunger games where you and Peeta were forced to act as if slowly falling in love in the arena. And now you're back for the 75th hunger games where you and Peeta had gone to the jungle to hunt while the rest stayed at the beach. You had always been irritated wheneved he needed to declare his love for the cameras, knowing it was all an act while your feelings for him were real.

Warnings: none

Word count: 974

When the capitol announced the return of the victors for the Hunger Games, you immediately locked eyes with your mother who had just witnessed the news. All the color was drained from your face, dawning on the meaning of that statement. Most nights spent in the capitol before the Hunger Games begined were spent mostly on rooftops, or in either yours or Peeta's bedroom.

The two of you met in the 74th Hunger Games, quickly catching the audience's attention with the act Haymitch and your mentor had planned: team up, slowly fall in love. The blossoming romance from district 5 and district 12. Though you agreed for your own benefit, you hadn't considered the thought of actually developing feelings for the boy.

You and Peeta were lucky to have outsmarted the gamemakers to let the both of you and Katniss live, though the luck didn't last forever.

The starting of the games felt too quick. You dreaded the day you'd stand on the platform once again, having to fight other victors for survival. Even though you managed to ally with a few others, Finnick, Beetee, Katniss and Johanna were currently nowhere in sight. Somehow Finnick had convinced everyone to allow Peeta to hunt with you, which wasn't the most strategic plan hence his loud footsteps.

"Shh." Your right hand came up, signaling to come to a stop as you spotted the little critter scurrying its way up a tree.

Peeta took careful steps closer towards you and watched as you took an arrow and aimed it at the critter. He wasn't hustling much, but his steady breath on your neck was guiding your thoughts away from the target and elsewhere.

You tried to ignore the anxious energy radiating off him from the anticipation and focused on your target. His eyes were staring intently at you, the distraction causing the arrow to fly past the critter.

"Your presence is distracting, you know that?" You were contemplating between slapping him or kissing him for that little distraction. With the audience thinking the two of you were still madly in love, the shared kisses were no uncommon behaviour at this point, yet still a rare sight.

Lowering your bow in annoyance, you trudged away from Peeta. It troubled you to know that the kisses meant nothing to him, unlike the way they meant something to you.

"Hey, wait! There's still more critters out there," Peeta called out, quickly catching up to walk next you through the jungle.

"It's fine, we have the seafood and food from sponsors anyways."

"But we came all this way. At least let me pick a few more nuts." Silently obliging his request, you followed Peeta as he walked deeper into the jungle, collecting nuts on the way. He could tell you were either annoyed or mad, but decided not to question it until he collected enough nuts.

"Is it the nuts? We can go back if you want." Somehow that comment clearly made you even more agitated. It wasn't the nuts, it wasn't even his fault that the whole thing between you two was just an act to him. 

"No, forget it. Let's go, the others might get worried." Before you could scurry off, a hand gripped your arm, pulling you back and you barely had time to process everything when you felt Peeta's lips on yours.

You wanted to pull away, push him back from all the anger, but all you did was stay there, slowly moving your lips against his.

His hand slowly crept up towards the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. You didn't know if he was doing this for the cameras, but you didn't care. All possible thoughts of pushing him away were gone just from the feeling of his lips moving against yours.

"What's wrong?" Peeta asked as soon as the both of you parted for air. It was difficult to come up with an excuse for the cameras when his thumb was gently brushing against your cheek, erasing all logical thoughts in your mind. 

The look in his eyes seemed so genuine and tender, you weren't sure what to make off this situation. So instead you pressed your lips to his once more, taking him by surprise.

Peeta knew that you only ever kiss him when you were told to, never on your own. Even specific moments in the previous game where the two of you would kiss were all planned, and the kisses were never this passionate.

He slowly took little steps back until his back was pressed up against a tree, emitting a groan from him as your hand tangled in his hair, and his on your waist. Neither of you were willing to question the other. The cameras will eat this up, for sure, but you didn't care.

It was only when the sound of twig snapping broke you two apart. You were alert, hands on the arrow, though Peeta's never left your waist.

While you were looking around for any signs of danger, Peeta broke into a smile as he looked down. "Calm down, it's just another critter."

You quickly shot the little thing before it could run away, Peeta's hands reluctantly leaving your waist. Katniss was better with the bow, though you have learned a few things from her.

"At least now we have something to bring back for dinner," he stated, giving you the softest smile he could muster. You replied with your own smile, one that didn't quite reach your eyes this time.

You weren't sure if the mass amounts of shared kisses and declaration of love was still just an act to him after the kiss you shared just a few seconds ago.

"Come on, it's getting dark." With one last quick peck to your lips, he headed back towards the beach with a little smile.

The scene with the nuts was taken from the book, I don't think it was mentioned in the movie, but I thought the scene where Peeta fried nuts by bouncing them off the forcefield was adorable, so it inspired me to write this.

[chvrrycola]

hunger games! au x xu minghao

you were pretty sure you could feel the contempt radiating from minghao every second you were stood next to him. it didn’t change when you got on the train, in fact he barely looked at you throughout your journey to the capitol. 

none of your stylists or mentors knew of anything you might have done, and despite your many requests that they ask him, they always failed to get anything out of him. 

he was the same age as you, and you had seen him in the corridors at school a couple of times, though he had always had a cool, even cold aura, so you had never spoken. you were fairly sure that he would have no clue you had even laid eyes on each other, he certainly didn’t treat you like someone he had any semblance of a connection with.

he kept it up all through training, every stage pre-games was underpinned by the crackling tension as though your presence drained his energy. you didn’t expect any kind of allyship from him once you were in the arena, in fact you felt like you’d be lucky if he didn’t kill you himself.

you had prepared extensively to get into the arena, honing your skills with every weapon you could get your hands on, but the crossbow was your favourite. you knew you could do some serious damage if you got your hands on one. 

unfortunately for you, this hadn’t happened. 

you had been distracted on your podium when you thought minghao was trying to catch your eye, certain he was mouthing something to you. by the time you woke up to the situation, half the tributes were at the cornocopia and one had grabbed a bow and was beginning to shoot at you.

you had run into one of the tunnels behind you, the theme apparently being some kind of underground network, without looking back. once you were confident nobody was following you you finally allowed yourself to slow down, but the winding tunnels had confused you and you now had no way to get back to the cornucopia, and no way to get a proper weapon.

the tunnels felt fairly safe, though you set up a trip wire by the entrance of a dead end you had chosen to sleep in, just in case. you slept intermittently, waking at every slight sound. you woke again when the rock attached to the string hit your shoulder. someone was there.

you grabbed a heavy rock from near you and braced yourself. 

‘y/n?’ a familiar voice called, ‘is it you y/n?’ 

you knew it was minghao, but that didn’t make you feel better. you didn’t know how he had found you, and your body itched with fear for what he had planned for you. 

‘i’m gonna assume it is you down there, none of the others seem smart enough to set up a system like this. anyways, i’m gonna go, but you’d better come and grab this before somebody else finds it.’

you heard the sound of someone scurrying back down the tunnel, choosing to keep hidden in case he had planted an explosive or something. 

once your legs were cramping from the squat you were in, you made your way down to the opening of your tunnel. you hadn’t noticed how numb your knuckles were around the rock until it almost fell out of your hand as you moved. you gripped it again, continuing to where you thought minghao’s voice had been coming from. 

around the final curve, about a metre in from the opening of the tunnel, was a crossbow. you picked it up carefully, examining it to see if it had been tampered with, but all you could see was an inscription, carved hastily with a knife of some sort. 

allies?

[katnissmellarkkk]

Hello 🤗

How about Everlark and no. 35? Thank you so much 🥰

Hey! Thanks for the prompt! This is more sweet and fluffy than I originally planned but 🤷🏼‍♀️. Who doesn’t like a little sweetness on a Tuesday morning? 🥹

Also this is my very first time writing in like 6 plus months so go easy because I’m rusty 🥲.

Prompt: A Kiss To Gain Something

-

“Peeta,” I call out, using the front entrance — the public entrance — of the bakery for once. “Hello?”

“Back here,” he murmurs faintly, sounding rather preoccupied. My brow furrows in confusion, considering it’s his usual lunch time, in which he closes the bakery every day for an hour. I can’t think of one single task he could be preoccupied with.

And then the smell of something sweet hits me like a tornado.

Like a mouthwatering, sugary, irresistible tornado.

And then I know exactly what he’s doing.

“Peeta,” I call again, in a sing-song tone now.

And then he knows exactly what I’m doing. He recognizes the shift in my voice immediately. He knows exactly where I’m going with this, exactly what my intentions are, and as I make my way over to him, I see I’m just in time to watch his shoulders sigh up and down.

“Katniss,” he says, a gentle warning in his voice as he moves away from his baking station. He meets me halfway between the cash register and the door to the back room.

A clear attempt to keep me from the cinnamon rolls he just pulled from the oven.

“I’m not going to eat them all,” I promise, while subtly peering around him to check if he’s frosted them quite yet.

“That’s what you told me last time,” he murmurs wryly, placing his hands on both my shoulders and rubbing lightly. “Aren’t you supposed to still be hunting?”

I roll my eyes at his clear attempt to get rid of me. “I got bored.”

“Since when are you bored with hunting?”

“Since I’m tired of eating squirrels every night!” He chuckles, because he too is sick of the same exact dinner every single evening.

But business has been plentiful at the bakery as of late, making it hard for him to find the energy to make supper and the only thing I’m good at making a meal out of is the meat I hunt, and well, it is winter. The deer have been scarce to find for some time now and will likely continue to be for another handful of weeks to come.

Making squirrels our easiest meal available. Or better yet, making them our only meal available.

But tonight cinnamon rolls sound like a good enough dinner to me. They sound good for breakfast too, if I have it my way.

Peeta cups my face in his hands, bringing me out of my thoughts with his warm touch and the strong scent of cinnamon clinging to his skin. “I promise, I will cook for you tonight, Katniss.” He seals his words with a chaste kiss to my mouth. “But I need you to get out now.”

My face contorts in shock. “Hey, I’m your wife,” I complain, feeling a little insulted now. “You can’t kick me out. I own this bakery too.”

“Yes, and you eat almost as many cinnamon rolls as we sell,” he retorts and I cross my arms, half-abashed and half-annoyed, because he has a point. I’m not going to let him know that but he does.

But he still doesn’t like to see me so put out, so immediately he changes tactics. “Sweetheart,” he whispers gently, leaning down and kissing the side of my face, moving his mouth in a circuit from my cheek to just behind my ear. “We’re almost out of the ingredients for cinnamon rolls and the demand for them is so high right now. I gotta make sure there’s enough for tomorrow.”

But I don’t hear a word he says. Not really. It all goes in one ear and out the other. Instead I passively allow him to travel the path between my cheek to behind my ear, from my jaw to the corner of my mouth, and back again, at least three times before I make my move.

Instead of trying to sneak by him or trick him, I go for a manipulation technique much more my style. Some silent, upfront pleading.

With my lips this time.

He already knows what’s coming when I reach both my hands up on his shoulders and push myself into his arms.

I can almost feel him roll his eyes at me this time, as he picks me up off the ground.

“This isn’t going to work-” He tries to say, but I cut him off, rather abruptly, with my kiss.

And unlike his, mine isn’t chaste in the least.

He tries to stay stoic at first but, to neither of our surprise, he cracks rather swiftly under temptation.

“Katniss,” he sighs, when I finally break the kiss off, moving down to his neck, finding that spot of skin that he can’t resist when I graze with my teeth.

Just as I expect, his knees buckle a little when I open my mouth and bite down.

“Okay,” he concurs, as if he were relenting after being held up under torture. “You win. I’ll give you one but I need the rest to sell.”

“Fine,” I agree, feeling satisfied, wrapping my arms tighter around his neck now as he carts me towards the back room.

“You’re so weird,” he murmurs sardonically as he sets me down on my feet.

“Excuse me?” I shoot him a dirty look.

But he’s not planning to take the comment back evidently. “You go through all that just for a stupid cinnamon roll?”

“Yes,” I say automatically, my tone a little stubborn. “So what?”

“Nothing, my love,” he says quietly but he’s trying not to laugh at me.

I advert my eyes, starting to feel a little embarrassed at my determination now. “Peeta, you know that the more you say no to me, the more I want something.”

At that, he gives me an exasperated look. “Trust me, my love. I know that.”

I’m about to say something else, probably to try and defend myself again, but before I can he pulls me into an embrace, hugging my back to his chest. A tiny olive branch, I suppose.

“You love me,” I inform him as he plants a kiss on the back of my neck, moving my braid aside to give himself better access.

“Well, that was obvious,” he snorts.

I bat his hands away, giggling a little at the tingly feeling his kiss elicited down my spine, before quickly grabbing the largest cinnamon roll in the batch and heading out.

“See you at home,” I mumble as I slip through the back door with my mouth full of warm, doughy goodness.

“Katniss,” Peeta calls after me, just as I’m almost out of earshot.

I walk back, a little perturbed. “What?”

“I do love you,” he says, his eyes softening as they meet mine again. “I love you a lot.”

-