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#TECHNICALLY AN ITCH HAS BEEN SCRATCHED BUT WHETHER IT LOOKS ODD ON THIS PIECE OR NOT IS ANOTHER STORY
acediee · 1 year
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A zero I started and finished yesterday!
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talas-starlight · 4 years
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Scarred Spirit - Zuko x fem! reader (pt.3)
SUMMARY: this takes place around the end of book 1 - but uhhhh I deadass don’t know how to give a summary for this without giving anything away soooo enjoy!
WORD COUNT: 3.7k
WARNINGS: mentions of death and suicide. Scars. Swearing. Non- sexual nudity. Nightmares. Panic attack ish.  mention of torture.
KEY: italics = internal thoughts & *** = flashback
OTHER PARTS:  pt1   /   pt2 /  pt4   /   pt5   /   pt6
MASTERLIST: Here!
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You’d been walking in the back streets of the capital with your face turned to the sun for the past two hours. The black mask shielding the bottom half of your face hid the sigh that left your lips as you finally approached the palace.
Fucking finally.
Even though you were a Fire bender, it didn’t make it any less annoying as the sun blistered down of the completely black outfit you were wearing. It covered every piece of your skin from your neck, down to your feet. Even your scarred fingertips were hidden from the world.
As you neared the gates, they immediately began to open, inviting you in with open arms. This made you one of the few people, apart from the royal family, that didn’t need to prove their identity to get in. All the guards knew who you were and what you did for the Fire Lord, promoting you from being a prisoner to one of the most well looked after people in the entire Nation. Technically, they were never instructed to provide you with immediate access. Yet, as rumours spread throughout the palaces’ echoing halls, their fear of you doing what you did to all those people when out on missions, seemed to override those basic routines.
Normally you’d scoff at how silly it all was, the fact that they feared a 16-year-old girl almost made you feel sorry for them. As guards of the Nation they should stand with pride and confidence. You suppose that’s what happens when even though they don’t see it, they have nothing to be prideful about considering who their current ruler is. Regardless, today you appreciated their diligence, storming through the gates, and making your way straight to the throne room. You didn’t even give anyone an initial glance. You were pissed. This had been the fourth mission in a row where you were sent to take out some random high position person from some other nation. All this travelling back and forth began to get on your nerves.
Maybe it was from the heightened stress of the most recent task. This one, in particular, set you off because of the minimal information you had to take them out. All you were provided with was that they were from the Water Tribe, and had been at sea in a fleet for multiple years, taking down Fire Nation units.
Gee thanks! Give me a few weeks, and I’ll track down this mysterious person you don’t even know the name of and be on my way! Hmmm, now my first plan of action will be to flip a gold piece to decide if I should swim to the Northern or the Southern tribe to gather intel! Just you wait Ozai. I’ll take that stupid, pathetic, floppy thing you call a beard and drag you into the fire in front of your throne you piece of-
Abruptly cutting off your internal rant, you walked past the guards who immediately opened the doors to the throne room as they saw you approaching; noticing the long braid down your back alit in your raged fire. Reaching the middle of the throne room you didn’t even bother to bow, throwing a Water Tribe necklace splattered in blood to the ground. “It’s done.”
The guard closest to you hastily picked it up and climbed the stairs to hand it to Ozai for an inspection. Eyeing the tribal necklace in the guards’ hand, he made no move to take it away from him physically. Ironic how he has slaughtered so many yet refuses to get real blood on his hands.
“Prove yourself.”
You instantly provided him with the report you memorised on how you conducted the mission with details on an weekly basis. This ensured you actually went through with the assassination- you suggested that you could bring back their head two years ago, but apparently that was too gruesome to be in the presence of the great Fire Lord. There were no pauses or stutters as you rehearsed it on your journey back to the capital.
“Present the details of the savage.”
You held back a sigh, this was always your least favourite part. “The person you sent out for went by the name of Hakoda. He was of the Southern Water Tribe and Chief to one of its smaller villages. During my time undercover in the tribe, I acquired knowledge that his wife was disposed of under the assumption that she was the last Waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe and had two children. It is also to my knowledge that his children are currently travelling with the Avatar. Through making connections with the villagers, I set out to sea in search for him and managed to gain access and trust upon the main ship when they were docked in an isolated part of the Earth Kingdom for supplies. I went under an alias of a homeless non-bending orphan from the Northern Water Tribe wanting revenge on the Fire Nation for slaughtering my parents. When it came time to dispose of him, I did so in the middle of the night after faking a nightmare, seeking him out as a father figure for comfort. I used his own weapon against him as he held me, speaking words of comfort, expressing that I was safe and how I was like a daughter to him. A daughter who would have been a great older sister to his children. During this moment of emotional weakness for him, I assassinated him before he could have even registered that I would have been an awful sister. Leaving before dawn, I made the scene look like a suicide with a letter expressing in detail how being away from his children was too much to bear.”
Ozai looked up from the necklace, satisfied with the briefing. “Hmmm, well-done y/n. Tell me, what do you know of his children?”
“Nothing of great importance other than knowledge of them travelling with the Avatar.”
“Very well, you may have a day’s rest and will be informed of your next task tomorrow evening. Your payment for your services is already in your quarters.”
You bowed knowing you were lucky he let it slide when you walked in. “Thank you, my Fire Lord.”
Exiting the throne room, you made your way to your living quarters, looking forward to the sensation of washed hair, clean clothes, and your bed.
When you finally made it back to your room, you let out a sigh of relief immediately ripping off your mask. As the years went by, nothing seemed to get easier, and nothing seemed to stop. You cherished the moments of silence, the brief period of time where the universe aligned in such a way that you were able to pretend this wasn’t your life. One mission after another, constantly lying to do what needed to be done, amid all the alias’ you made up, you wondered which one really demonstrated who you were as a person. The idea of having to settle with the Fire Lord’s personal assassin didn’t necessarily make you giddy with pride.
You made your way to the bathtub that awaited you in the adjoining room, peeling off the once breathable fabric, off your body as you went. The tub was already full as the servants went to prepare it when they heard the word of your return. You finally unravelled the braid holding your hair together, yet another symbol of the job you committed yourself to. On the first day of training, you were told that if you were caught, your affiliation with the Fire Nation should be buried with you.  
Your skin shuddered as you entered the chilled water, easing your mind that warm water would never satisfy in this Nation’s climate. You leant back with a small wince as your scarred back made contact with the tub. Growing up, it wasn’t uncommon for other assassins to have some form of physical scarring whether that be from training, a mission gone wrong, or punishment from their supervisor. In some unusual way, you were never insecure about it, only annoyed that you had to sleep in odd positions because of the sensitivity.
You began to drift, succumbing to the cool, soothing water around you. Between the stress of returning to the capital, and the stress that awaited you on your next task, you allowed yourself to let go. Free yourself of any thoughts. In your current state, you weren’t scarred. You weren’t trapped in what seemed like a never-ending cycle of duty. You weren’t anyone to anything.
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As the moon began to shine through the windows into the bathroom, you woke up with a start, water splashing onto the tiles around you, your heart racing and sweat soaking the unsubmerged parts of your body. Running your hand through your hair, you fought the urge to let out an overwhelmed sob. Nightmares were a common occurrence for you, but this one settled under your skin like a scratch you would never be able to itch.
Air seemed to close in on your lungs, no matter how much you tried to calm yourself down, all you could focus on was the fact you couldn’t breathe. Hastily fumbling, and tripping as you got out of the tub, you forced yourself to reach for the first clean robe you could get your hands on. As your thoughts mixed into on jumbled heap, you desperately tried to get it together.
He believed you.
They all did, you knew it in the way that the guards struggled to hide back their expressions of discomfort as you described how you oh so easily manipulated a grown man, warrior, and chief, only to kill him.
It was a lie. All of it. Yet why did I dream of them finding out now?
You’ve never assassinated anyone since that general three years ago, and you most certainly never killed Hakoda. From the very moment you accepted the offer, you knew you’d never go through with the commissions. During the brief period when you trained and got back onto a healthy diet was when you mentally formulated how you would conduct each “killing”. It was simple, you’d carry out the mission as you normally would, but in the time you were supposed to spend working out how to dispose of them, you helped them create a new life for themselves. You didn’t bother trying to shield the truth from them, knew the Fire Lord wanted them dead. While it sent them into a panic, in the long run, it made everything a whole lot easier. They could never go by who they once were, and needed to move far, far, away from wherever they lived. The lives they once knew erased, cutting off all ties.
Idiot. Why did I have to make an exception now?
Instantly dismissing the question that wriggled its way into your head, you began to journey to the kitchens in desperate need for a distraction. You knew why you made the exception.
***
Three weeks ago, when you were on the ship with Hakoda, you did actually have a nightmare, prompting you to go out onto the deck to clear your mind. The air was crisp, eliciting goosebumps across your skin. Quickly letting out a breath of fire, you began to regulate your body temperature as you noticed Hakoda already looking out to the never-ending expanse of the ocean. As an experienced warrior, he heard you approach.
“Y/n? The moon has been out for a long time now, you should be asleep.”
Sighing, you stood next to him, joining him in looking out to the sea. “Nightmares.”
He nodded in understanding. “Do you want to talk about it?”
There was no fear in your voice as you recounted the altered memories of your torture, he already knew who you were, where you were from… what you did. All things considered; he took everything pretty well, barely holding it against you. To him, you were just a kid who was sucked into this life, making the best with what you had.
Finishing your poor recount of the nightmare, you turned to face him. “I have to go back soon. I’ve been pushing it by staying for an extra month. We need to make a plan for you to leave. You need to start a new life.”
He knew this conversation was coming ever since he managed to persuade you to help them out for a while. After all, he seemed to look straight past the wall you put up to know that you wanted Ozai’s reign to end. Despite respecting your boundaries, when you took off your mask in front everyone on board, the scar on your neck that travelled beneath your long sleeve shirt as it encompassed your hand, was enough to know that you suffered just like everyone else.
“Y/n, you know I can’t do that. My children, Sokka and Katara, they’re travelling with the Avatar right now, and I haven’t seen them since they were young. I can’t just leave and have you fake my death like that, Bato told me how much hope that knowing I’m alive brings to them! If I go and word gets out that you ‘assassinated’ me… it will crush them. Their close relationship with the worlds only hope is too much of a risk. I need them to be strong. The world needs them to be strong. I’m sorry y/n, but I can’t.”
You stared at him processing his words. Ultimately you knew he was right, but you couldn’t go back after such a long time just to say you failed. The Fire Lord would destroy you. “I understand where you are coming from. I do, but you can’t seriously expect me to go back with nothing! What do you expect me to do?! Oh, sorry Fire Brain I couldn’t kill him because something suddenly possessed me to feel bad about how his children might feel! Don’t worry, though, I didn’t care every other time I knew about other targets’ children! Unless you have some genius plan, I’m sorry, but Sokka and Katara are just going to have to suck it up. Let’s be realistic, yes, this MAY damage them and their duty to support the Avatar, but at least you can go back to them when this war is over!”
He ran his hand over his face, clearly trying to stay calm and collected. “I know, y/n. That’s why I’ve been up all night making a plan, but you’re not going to like it.”
You crossed your arms, scoffing at him. “The fact you’re suggesting something other than what I have ALREADY planned makes me not like it… but let’s hear it.”
He attempted to start with the parts of the plan he knew you’d agree on, which didn’t last long. “Well, we can incorporate some of your plans into it, that being we fake my death taking by tribal necklace back to the Fire Nation splattered in the animal’s blood. Yet everything else? We’re scrapping it.”
Biting on your tongue, you fought the urge to scream at how stupid this was sounding.
Relieved you didn’t bite back, he continued. “I’ll stay with the crew and then-“
That was enough for you to lose control. “Okay, I’m sorry did you just say you want to stay with the crew?! I am supposed to be taking out the LEADER OF THIS FLEET! If you stay with them and continue to attack vulnerable units, they will know, and they’ll have my head!”
“I know y/n! Which is why, when you’re gone, Batu will temporarily take over as captain until further notice. I, on the other hand, will only help plan the attacks stay in the background until it’s safe. Now, as for my kids, we’ll send them a letter letting them know I’m safe and hopefully a location so I can reunite with them.”
“But what if-“
“The letter gets intercepted? It’s just going to have to be a small risk.”
Taking a deep breath, he tried to bring the conversation to a less hostile level. “More often than not, there is no perfect plan. You should know that, by faking all of your assassinations since working for the Fire Lord. Which might I add, is the biggest risk you could possibly take. It will all work out in the end; trust me. But, this is your playing field, if you truly think me disappearing is the only way, then we can go ahead with the original plan.”
Sucking in a breath, you stared at Hakoda as if he grew two heads.
Did he just give me an option?
“W-what do you mean what I think?! You literally just said that you CAN’T leave your children! You gave me an alternative plan, and now you’re saying that if I disagree you’ll do as I say? That doesn’t make any sense.”
He let out a laugh, amused by your concerns. “Y/n, you have been trained in this area and executing the fake assassinations all on your own for over two years. No one knows the ins and outs of how the Fire Nation plans things like you do. If you think my plan is severely flawed and both of us are bound to get caught, I will trust your judgement in which is the best to conduct. Yes, I said that we should be thinking of my kids and the Avatar, his destiny is bigger than any of this, but everyone should be allowed to choose what they want to do, I am just allowing you to expand your options.”
With a final breath, he truly looked at you with sincerity, “I trust you y/n.”
It all seemed too much. All your life it felt like there was only one obvious pathway; do what it takes to survive. Everything he said was right, and it dawned on you that for once the decision you were about to make had two genuinely good choices. Hakoda gifted you with that privilege. Either way, you would save his life and yours. Yet you knew that the new pathway presented to you would lead you something bigger, just like he said. You couldn’t take one of the few good things away from his kids.
Overcome with emotion, you hugged him. “Thank you. We’ll do it. You need to stay.”
He hugged you back as you began to cry.
***
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After spending the remainder of the night stuffing your face in the kitchens, you didn’t go back to sleep and started to train with whoever was willing until it was time to hear of your next target. By no means were you looking forward to it, but you were ready to distance yourself from the last mission as it regularly filled your mind.
I wonder if he actually put Bato in charge and stood down? Stop thinking about it y/n. It doesn’t matter anymore; you’ll never have to see him again.
As the sun started to disappear into the Fire Nations skyline, you headed for the throne room knowing you shouldn’t keep Ozai waiting.
I can’t wait to see the show he has prepared for me. I wonder how dark he tried to make the lighting this time. Ooo! Maybe if I’m lucky I’ll get 20-foot flames! Then I won’t have to see his ugly beard.
Entering the room and bowing before him, you fought back a snicker as it truly felt like the room seemed darker than usual.
“Y/n, you have come a long way from being a traitor and prisoner to the Nation to one of the most valuable assets. Your next task will be the ultimate test of your loyalty to me. I have trusted and sent my daughter Azula on a mission to bring back my traitor of a brother, and my failure of a son.”
Your heart skipped a beat. Azula was no stranger to riling you up whenever you crossed paths over her brother, and you were well aware of the encounters he had with the Avatar. But not once were you brought into the dysfunctions of their family. Now all of a sudden you were formally addressed by Ozai who was mentioning these events to you? It made you hyper-aware of the scars that stretched along your left side. The only personal connection you had with Zuko.
“While she undoubtedly has my complete trust, and I do not doubt her abilities, she lacks experience. Azula does not have the knowledge of the world, and fighting styles from the other nations like you do. For that, I am entrusting you to take care of the collateral damage. If things are to go wrong, if she is faced with a circumstance hindering her ability to do her task, it is your job to finish it. Even if that means harm must come to her, the mission is the utmost priority. Should you fail, do not underestimate the consequences you’ll face if you ever step back into the Nation.”
In your best attempt to keep your composure, you replied in a cool but firm tone. “Of course, my Fire Lord.”
“Good. You leave at dawn and do not return until my daughter succeeds.”
Bowing in acknowledgement, you began to leave. But you quickly halt your movements as you hear his voice again.
“One last thing y/n. Azula is not to know that you are tracking her at any stage during her mission. You are to distance yourself, only intervening when there is no other option.”
You bow for the last time. “You have my word.”
Making your way to prepare supplies for your journey, you fight the urge to curse out the entire royal family throughout the halls.
Babysitting duty. I was tortured for eight fucking months. Trained to boredom by Zemin’s brother, Piandao, for one month, and some knock-off fire bending master for a week because he didn’t know how to control me, and went gallivanting across the nations to fake assassinations. Not only that but also assist them in making new lives for themselves, FOR BABYSITTING DUTY! ALL BECAUSE HIS SPOILED, SOCIOPATHIC DAUGHTER WITH AN SUPERIORITY COMPLEX ISN’T EXPERIENCED ENOUGH?!
In your silent rage, you make it back to your room trying to reason with yourself that you shouldn’t kill Azula the second you both cross the Fire Nation boarders.
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A/N: so…. Did I have y’all in the first half? LMAO AHAHHA.
Also I really thought I was going to have the gaang in this one #fool (oopsies) I really didn’t think the hakoda portion would consume so much of the chapter :/ BUT!! They’re definitely in the next one
Thanks for reading though! On the bright side I’m (finally) on my mid-semester break!!! Woohoo! I’m so excited to wrap up this semester wowies (uni has been kicking my butt),, but this does mean I’ll have more time to write so you guys might get a chapter earlier than normal 😊 Anyway, as normal feel free to message me or leave a comment!
TAGLIST:
@slythergirlimagines​​ @mangoberry43​​ @eridanuswave​​ @whiskeywinter89​
@kaylove12​​ @simplyfandomish​​ @khaleesi-of-assassins​ @callums-keith​
@ilovespideyyy​ @calciumcow​ @blackhood5sos​
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ohlovelyvampires · 5 years
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Au Pair in France, part 3
So, so sorry for the delay. I’ve been meaning to update since June, but it was a tough year. In here you have a super long update to (hopefully) make up for the wait. Happy new year everyone! Lots of love.
There are probably a ton of mistakes in here, I just hope you can read past them and enjoy the story. I wrote this with much love for you guys!
in here you have my AO3 account where you can find the rest of the story: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13174917/chapters/30134580
Warning: explicit sex scenes in this chapter. Read at your own risk.
When Katniss woke up, still in a sleep-induced haze, in a bed that wasn’t her own, her first reaction was panic. That until she recognized the furniture arranged around the room and the colors of the walls. Peeta’s walls.
Oh.
She stretched out her sore limbs, the plush mattress cushioning her body making it infinitely difficult for her to get up and face the music; but the strong smell of coffee reached her nostrils, and as a much as she wanted to lay in bed for a while longer, she wanted coffee much more. Besides, her nightly companion wasn’t in bed either, so there was no reason for her to laze around anymore. The brightness streaming through the blinds proved it was around 7 in the morning. They had gone to bed late last night, but the both were early risers by nature.
As usual, it was fucking freezing in France. And her clothing, or lack thereof, only a pair of panties and a soft cotton shirt, didn’t provide much aide against the feel of sharp needles prickling her sensitive skin. She shivered and looked around the room until she noticed Peeta’s robe hanging from the back of his bedroom door. She didn’t have time to over analyze whether it would be a good idea or not to wear it, her hands already tying the sash around her waist.
She walked barefoot down the stairs, silent as she could be. She heard an enthusiastic whistling around in the kitchen and bit her lip, whether out of nervousness or just to keep herself from smiling, she didn’t know.
Peeta was whistling a happy tune, clearly reflecting his good mood of the day. She couldn’t recognize the melody, until he started singing. She tried not to cringe at his voice, managing to keep in a snort. He once had said to her that he didn’t sing because he sounded like a whining or dying cat, and she’d assured him that probably wasn’t true.
Well, he didn’t sound like a dying cat; but it certainly sounded like a cat that was suffering a lot.
She decided to step in just as he turned around to set a plate on the table. His eyes widened and he instantly stopped singing, choking on his own voice, his cheeks exploding red. She was sure her eyes danced with mirth. “Uh...” Peeta babbled.
“Bonjour?” Katniss elaborated.
He seemed to recover quickly after that, clearing his throat. “Bonjour indeed,” he set the plate, which held fruit, on the table and wiped his hands on his checkered pajama pants, which he completed with a wool sweater over the shirt he had put on the night before. It was an odd combination of sexy and adorable.
The whole combination that represented one-hundred-percent Peeta Mellark, she’d decided.
Neither of them had anything to say, it seemed, since the silence was almost awkward. Peeta studied her from head to toe and smiled upon seeing her in his clothes. He opted for not saying anything regarding Katniss’s attire. “Coffee?”
“Sure,” she gulped. He quickly took a mug from the cupboard and filled it with the dark liquid. He handed her the mug and their fingers brushed. Electricity exploded through her body. Peeta seemed to think the same thing, because he looked at her intently.
“I, uh, I made some omelets,” he scratched the back of his neck. She mentally gave herself a pat in the back for not looking down at the new display of skin above the waistband of his pants or thinking about where that path led to. Or the way his muscles of his arm tightened around the fabric.
Nope, she wasn’t thinking about that at all.
“It smells good,” Katniss said stupidly.
“Well, let’s sit,” he grabbed two plates from the counter and set one in front of her, sitting himself across from her spot. She quickly sat down, willing her stomach not rumble at the smell. She was sure that since she got to France she had to have put up at least 10 pounds or something like that, thanks to Peeta’s cooking.
“Mushrooms and sausage, I know you like them,”
She thought the whole thing was funny; Peeta was only 24, a few years older than her, and he acted so homely. Most guys his age were partying every night, no true direction set on where they wanted to go, meanwhile Peeta handed a house, a business and a kid.
“I do, thanks,” cue more silence. Katniss eyed the empty chair.
“Have you talked to Rye this morning?” she asked and stuffed her mouth with a piece of omelet. She groaned around the fork, and Peeta flushed.
“I did, about 15 minutes ago. He wanted to talk to you but I told him you were sleeping,” he looked at his plate. “At least Finnick mentioned he spent the rest of the night sleeping soundly, no more nightmares,”
She sighed. “That’s a relief, at least,” Peeta nodded in agreement. “Maybe we should go pick him up after breakfast,”
“There’s no need. Finnick said he would drop him off after breakfast before he has to leave for work.”
Katniss’s eyes widened. It was Monday. “Shit.” Whose idea was it to go clubbing on a Sunday night and why would she think it was a good one?
Madge. Never again.
“Wait, aren’t you supposed to be at work?” she eyed the clock hanging from the wall. 7:16. That was way too late for baker’s hours.
“Um, technically, I guess,” he stuttered. “I just, um, I thought I could take the day off. I didn’t want you to wake up alone,”
He blinked, “Although… you did wake up alone, but you know what I mean,”
“Oh,”
Her heart pounded, and the night’s before memories rushed to her. From Peeta’s sudden appearance at the club she was at, to dancing together and finally kissing, to them leaving the establishment together and ending up in his room…
…not much had happened after that, though.
After they got to the house and Peeta, ever the gentleman, made sure she was one-hundred-percent into what could arise between them, he took her up to his room, where he continued lavishing her with his tongue. He took his time undressing her, worshipping her body, everywhere his tongue and lips could reach.
She had been down only to her lingerie, bra and pantie set, while he remained still fully clothed above her. With all the strength she could muster, she pushed him down on the bed next to her and straddled his hips, dry humping his erection. She gasped out loud when it stimulated her clit.
“Merde,” Peeta had groaned.
She ran her hands over his torso, itching to feel the muscles hidden from her prying eyes by his dark shirt. She wasted no more time and inched his shirt up, revealing milky white skin. She stuck his head through the hole and threw the shirt somewhere behind her. Together they unzipped his pants and got him rid of it. The gray boxers he had on did a very poor job on concealing his throbbing erection. She licked her lips self-consciously, Peeta’s stare burning through her.
In a brazen rush of bravery, she grasped his thick erection through the fabric of his underwear and Peeta groaned, thrusting inwardly against her hand. “Katniss,” he looked at her and then down at himself again. She got the message and got off him so he could lift his hips while she pulled the garment down his legs. Her eyes widened at his size, and she gulped a little.
Back in Panem, when Johanna had been helping her pack her bags, she mentioned she had previously read an article –with statistics, Brainless; statistics don’t lie, Johanna had sighed– that said French men were within the smallest range of dick sizes in Europe. Katniss had only rolled her eyes, completely uninterested. Trust Jo to search for Europeans’ dick sizes.
Based on Peeta though, she couldn’t tell whether those statistics Jo mentioned had been all bullshit or if he was the exception, not the rule. Anyhow, she guessed she was lucky. She had never given much thought to a man’s dick, but Peeta Mellark’s cock was worthy of admiration; it was imposing, and it made her feel hot all over, for sure.  
She had her bra unhooked, and it was time for his eyes to widen when her breasts came to view. His hands rose from her thighs where they had been resting previously to her stomach. He threw longing glances at her boobs.
“Can I…?” she took his hands and pressed them against her chest. She heaved a sigh. She expected his hands to be cold, but he was warm. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth while he played with her breasts, massaging them. She moaned, which seemed to spur him on. Baker’s hands, no doubt. At her sighs and moans his eyes widened every time, and he looked at her as if she hung the moon and the stars.
She had never met anyone who looked at her like that. It was a good feeling, she had decided, being looked at so warmly.
With his hands still on her chest she leaned down to kiss him, and she realized how much it turned her on, just kissing him. Even from her own barely-there experience, she could tell he was a great kisser. Their tongues battled, and he groaned against her mouth. Their teeth clashed with the awkward position, so he sat back up and pulled her along, mouths still attached. She could feel her panties soaking wet with her arousal, while Peeta thrust against her, his tip oozing out pre cum, making her panties even wetter. They were still kissing harshly, tongue and lips everywhere, when a shrill sound resonated through the quietness of the room and over the sound of their moans and groans. Katniss ripped her lips from his in surprise.
“Ton portable,” she whispered. It was Peeta’s phone.
“Ignore it,” Peeta mumbled and pulled her mouth back to his, his hand caressing the nape of her neck. He kissed her thoroughly, so hard the sound of the phone actually went deaf to her ears, so much she didn’t even notice when it did stop ringing. Peeta took advantage of the newly recovered peace and lay her down back under him. Her legs opened on their own accord to welcome him in.
Through the closed door, once again, the sound of a phone was heard. The landline. Once again, Peeta didn’t acknowledge the ringing, as if it didn’t exist; and neither of them stopped, lips strongly attached. She didn’t pay attention to when it stopped ringing, but she heard when his cellphone went off again from somewhere in his pants thrown across the floor of the room.
He ripped his lips from her.  “Leave me the fuck alone,” Peeta cursed angrily at whoever was on the other end of the line, sighing.
“Go get it,”
“Really?” he frowned.
“The quicker you get rid of them the quicker we can go back to this with no interruptions,” she grinded against him and his eyes rolled back in blind pleasure. He pressed a fleeting kiss to her forehead and gave her an apologetic stare. She settled back against the pillows and flushed when he turned to give her one a look that burned all the way down to her core.
His face did a complete 180 turn when he finally found his phone and looked at the screen. “Finnick, qu'est que-ce passe? Je suis très occupé,” she didn’t hear what Finnick said, but she saw Peeta’s demeanor change completely. He picked his pants from the floor and winced when he tucked himself in. “Je vais le prendre maintenant,”
Her ears instantly perked up. Pick Rye up? Had something happened? She pulled a sheet over her nearly naked body and looked at Peeta, eyes wide. His back was to her, phone held tightly against his ear. “Peeta?”
He turned at the sound of her voice and looked at her imploringly, as if begging for forgiveness for something he had yet to do. “Bien, laisse moi parler avec lui,” Peeta sat next to her on the bed and pulled his hand over the microphone, “It’s Rye. Apparently he had a bad nightmare, he woke up very scared,”
“Oh,” she frowned. “I’ll go get dressed so we can go get him,”
“Wait a moment,” he said and put the speaker on. They waited in silence until they heard Rye’s voice through the line. He sounded tired and broken. “Papa?”
“Hey little guy,” Peeta said in French. “Finnick mentioned you had a nightmare. Are you okay?”
“I had a bad dream. You were gone,” Rye whispered and her heart wrinkled.
“I’m sorry you had a bad dream, and I know it seems real, but I promise you I’m here, and I’m always going to be here for you. I’m coming to get you,”
“I thought you said you were going out with Katniss,” Rye sounded confused. Peeta looked at her warily.
“Um, we did, son. Go out I mean,” he gulped. His erection still strained against his jeans, but it had softened a bit. She bit her lip. “We’re back home now, and we can go pick you up if you want,”
Rye seemed to think it over. “No thanks,” he said finally, easily.
Katniss blinked. She looked at Peeta, brow furrowed, as if to confirm she had heard Rye right. He seemed troubled too.
“Why not?”
“So you can be alone with Katniss for a while,” Her mouth dropped open, as did Peeta’s. She was pretty sure her cheeks were on fire.
“Um, Rye… Katniss and I…”
“You always look at her funny. Uncle Finnick says they’re called puppy eyes,” She worried her lip and felt Peeta tense up next to her.
“I uh, I think we can discuss that later, Rye,” his cheeks were flushed.
“Okay,” Rye said simply, agreeing.
Peeta looked at her, eyes wild. She gave him a tight, closed lips smile and he slipped his fingers through hers.
Rye and Peeta talked for a while longer, but she tuned out their voices, her brain mushed from tiredness and trying to understand everything they said in French. She was lost in her own thoughts, and her eyes were starting to close. After the club and when they got to the house, she was ready to go all the way with Peeta, but now, after hearing what Rye said, she wasn’t sure that having sex with Peeta would make things easier. Perhaps they both should take some time to think it through before taking that step.
She knew sex could be just sex with some people. But Katniss had a feeling it wouldn’t be just sex between Peeta and her.
Peeta was on the phone with Rye for about 20 minutes, until the little boy’s sentences were nothing more than quiet mumbles, and after he talked to Finnick, who encouraged him to go back to what he was doing.
“Who you’re doing, wink, wink,” Finnick cajoled through the line. At some point Katniss had gotten tired of sitting on the edge of the bed and moved back against the headboard.
“Call me if anything else happens, douchebag,” Peeta rolled his eyes good-naturedly before hanging up. He rolled back and sat next to her. He sensed the change in the atmosphere, and didn’t try to initiate anything, didn’t even try to take her hand. Physically, they were sitting side by side, but emotionally they were miles away. Or at least she was; she couldn’t tell with Peeta.
“The mood is officially ruined by now,” he tried to joke. She threw a quick glance at his lap. Yup, no visible erection. And she wasn’t exactly wet either, just sitting there uncomfortably, trying not to squirm at the remains of her arousal between her legs and previously soaked panties.
“Did I fuck up?” he had asked in the dark, switching back to English. She instantly shook her head no.
“You did nothing wrong,”
“Then why do I feel something is broken?” she felt his eyes burning through her in the dark.
“Nothing is broken, I assure you. I just… tend to overanalyze everything and those minutes you talked to Rye gave me some time to think, and maybe this,” she motioned to their bodies, “shouldn’t happen right this second.”
Peeta nodded rigidly. “I know what you mean, and I totally respect that,”
“But?”
He chuckled. “No buts, I just really wanted this to happen,”
She looked at him pointedly, “I didn’t say it wasn’t going to happen, just that it shouldn’t happen right now. Maybe it could happen in a month or a year, or tomorrow even, who knows?” she saw Peeta sit up straighter at that. She tried not to smile at his enthusiasm.
“I just think that we should… let it simmer for a while, see what happens. And, meanwhile, think it through. The consequences, I mean,” she finished.
“I have given it more than one thought to the consequences, believe me. I know many things could go wrong, but I thought I’d be an idiot not to give it a try and tell you how I feel,” He shrugged. “And I did. You didn’t say much after, but at least I know you want me too,” he grinned cockily and glanced at her crotch.
She blushed and rolled her eyes, not really annoyed.
“Well, um, I’ll think some more for the both of us.”
“Sure, whatever makes you feel more comfortable,” his smirk was still present on his face.
“What’s with the smug look?” she scowled.
He laughed. “Nothing at all. I think you’re just delaying the inevitable, Katniss, but whatever makes you sleep better at night,”
She sputtered indignantly. “You’re so confident, aren’t you?” this was a new façade of Peeta she had yet to see. Bolder, prouder, flirtier. She didn’t hate it, not one bit. It made him even sexier.
She wasn’t about to tell him that though.
“I would say that, yeah,” Peeta shrugged, but he traded his smug smirk for the soft smile that was indistinctively Peeta.
She bit her lip, feeling her lips inch upwards. “Well, I, uh, I guess I’ll be going back to my own room now,”
His face fell, although he tried to hide it. “You don’t have to,” she imagined he tried to sound nonchalant, but she could hear the nervousness creeping in.
“Peeta–”
“No, seriously, I know what you just said, but it doesn’t have to be more than really sleeping. I promise,” he bit his lip and looked at her imploringly. Now, looking directly at him, she could understand what Finnick said about Peeta’s puppy eyes. They were a blue so rich and intense she felt them burning through her organism, and she had the sudden urge to lean forward and kiss him, all her insecurities about their relationship be damned.
Instead she compromised with an “okay,” and lay next to him. She was still only in her panties, and Peeta in his jeans.
Walking to the closet, he pulled out a pair of pants and two shirts. He handed one to her and went to change in the bathroom while she put the shirt over her own head.  When he came out of the bath, he settled on the bed within a respectable distance from her. The both of them seemed to have a difficult time falling asleep, too aware of the other’s presence. Katniss thought she gave in first. Her breaths evened out before Peeta’s, and she was asleep.
All that had happened the night before.
Right that moment, she was transported back to taking breakfast with Peeta because her foot bumped his accidently under the table. He stared at her, nervous look in his eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, sure, just thinking,”
“You do a lot of that,” he accused, but not unkindly. She saw his lips curl upwards around his fork. She snorted.
“Well, one of us has to,” she bickered back good naturedly, giving him a small smirk to let him know she was joking. Peeta gave up trying to contain his smile and dazzled her with a full on grin. She nearly felt her panties drop and her breath accelerate. Damn him.
“Is there anything you’d like to do today?” he asked. “I can stay with Rye if you’ve got any plans,”
She scowled. “Peeta, you pay me to take care of Rye. You can go to work after breakfast and I’ll wait for Rye. We’ll figure out a way to distract ourselves in here and I’ll cook anything for lunch, and in the afternoon I can take him to the mall to see Santa or something,”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s my job. It’s in my contract. I don’t want whatever happened last night between us to jeopardize my job.” she sighed. “This is what I was afraid of,”
“No, you’re right,” he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Thanks for being so considerate though,” she looked down and felt her cheeks burning up. “You’re really sweet,”
Peeta gave her a genuine smile and they continued eating breakfast in silence. Between the two of them they picked up the table, and later had a small discussion about who would wash the dishes.
“You already cooked! Let me do the dishes,” Katniss insisted.
“I’m telling you I don’t mind. Stop being stubborn,” Peeta argued back until they got to a compromise. “You wash, I’ll dry.” Katniss figured it was the best answer she’d get.
He stood dutifully by her side while she soaped and rinsed the dishes, drying every plate, glass and silverware piece she threw his way. Once she was finishing up with the last plate her fingers were wrinkled like raisins, which made the hose slip from her grip.
The water pressure made the hose fly, effectively splashing the front of her –Peeta’s– robe, who cackled at her soaking garments. She jumped and hissed at the cold temperature against her abdomen.
“Told ya you should have let me take the washing station,” Peeta joked knowingly after composing himself a little, still giving out a few chuckles.
“Oh really?” she didn’t know what possessed her to do it, but before her mind could go back, her hands were grasping the still running hose in the sink and pointing it directly at Peeta, soaking his front.
“Fuck!” he cursed and tried to block the stream of water attacking him. She quickly shut the water, thinking she might have gone too far once she caught a glimpse of Peeta’s clothes. His pants were sticking to his impressively toned legs and his sweater was dripping wet. He threw her a look.
“Shit, Peeta–”
“So that’s how it’s going to be,” he whispered darkly. In an instant, his hands held the hose and he pointed it threateningly at her body. He grinned.
“You wouldn’t,” Katniss held a hand up in a pacing gesture.
“Oh, no, I certainly would,” and with those words he opened the faucet at a softer pressure, and let the water hit her. She screeched and cursed.
The sink still held water and bubbles from the soap, so she threw her hands in and splashed him with the bubbles. From the surprise he let go of the hose and it fell against the counter head-down, wetting the floor. Neither of them seemed to care, instead Peeta copied her own technique and splashed her with the bubbles. The water was still running at their feet, and she couldn’t imagine how much the upcoming water bill would be.
Eventually, the water from the sink ran out, and they were soaking wet from head to toe. Peeta had the insight to shut the faucet, but the kitchen was already flooding. Peeta had a hat made out of bubbles, and she could feel her own chest and neck slippery. They were laughing hard; Peeta sat on the floor to recover his breath and groaned when his ass got completely soaked. Katniss laughed even harder.
“What a mess,” she mumbled after their laughter had died down.
“We’ll spend the rest of the day cleaning this up,” Peeta whined maturely. She eyed him, “You’re not thinking I’ll let you clean this up by yourself, are you?”
“Then we should be getting started,” she gave him a hand to help him up, but Peeta pulled too hard on her hand and she slipped on the wet floor. He braced her fall by grabbing her around the waist, and she fell half across his lap. “Shit,”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, sure,”
Peeta looked down, checking her over but his eyes widened by her chest. “You, uh, the soap…”
She looked down and withheld a gasp. The robe had loosened around her chest, and the white shirt was completely see-through due to their water war. Her nipples were perked and pointy thanks to the cold. Peeta gulped. And she was still on his lap.
“I should go get changed,”
“Yeah, you should,” neither moved though. Peeta started fingering some loose strand of hair that fell over her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. She didn’t know what was it about his eyes, but his stare always burned right through her body, from head to toe. She was the one who gave in first and joined their lips together.
Peeta’s arms instinctively wrapped around her waist and pressed her against his chest tightly. She settled her legs on either side of him to be more comfortable while he thrust his tongue in her mouth. She welcomed him openly, sucking greedily. He moaned low in his throat. One arm was around her waist and the other on the nape of her neck to keep her close, while her own fingers played with his damp golden locks. There was a lot of saliva and teeth and certainly lots of tongue, and she loved it. After sucking on his tongue, he started nipping lightly her bottom lip; it was her time to groan.
Before she realized it, his erection was between her legs, straining against the fabric that separated their cores. Very lightly, experimentally, he thrust his hips against hers. Grinding together, lips attached, it was one of the most erotic moments of her life. The angel on her shoulder screamed hypocrite! You were the one who told him to wait, while the devil on the other side whispered tauntingly you have been patient. The both of you. You deserve this.
She didn’t know which side to hear, but let their hips continue their own sensual dancing while their lips kept attacking the other’s. She was sure their lips were bruised and swollen; hers were already starting to feel tender, but she didn’t want to stop, and judging the way Peeta kept kissing her, he didn’t want to stop either. It could have been minutes or hours since their lips had been brought together, although she didn’t know nor cared.
The doorbell rang. Their own personal cockblocker.
Peeta did the same as the night before: nothing. He let whoever was on the other side of the door waiting. “Fuck them,”
“It’s not them I want to fuck,” she moaned around his lips as he kissed her even harder at her words.
When the doorbell rang again, she tried to convince herself that whoever was on the other side of the door would leave. Except…
“Papa!” the sound came muffled through the door. Rye.
They separated like guilty children in a beat. She had forgotten Finnick would be dropping Rye off, and apparently so had Peeta. “Shit.”
“We can’t leave them out there,” if the inside of the house was cold, the outside was 10 times worse. She looked down between them where Peeta’s erection was still straining against his pants. She pulled herself together and tied the sash up to nearly her neck. “I’ll go,” before she got up he gave her one last kiss, a whisper of his lips against hers.
“This seems familiar,” Peeta whispered against her lips, looking down at his dick. He had to have blue balls by now. She snorted and pulled away.
At the door, she welcomed Finnick and Rye into the foyer, as the low temperature prickled her skin fiercely. Rye moved to throw his arms around her, but she kept him at arms’ length until he noticed her wet get up. Both Finn and Rye gave her a confused look as to why she was so wet everywhere, but Finnick paired it with a salacious grin. She glared and screamed with her eyes for him not to say a word.
“Katniss, what happened?” Rye asked.
“Um, I had a little accident with the hose in the sink,”
“Are you sure that was the only hose you were handling?” Finn laughed. Rye looked confused. Katniss was sure she looked murderous.
“Rye, there’s a huge mess in the kitchen and I have to clean it up, so why don’t you go play with some toys while we get everything together,”
Right that moment, Peeta walked out of the kitchen, also dripping wet. He must have trapped his erection with the waistband of his briefs to hide it, because it didn’t look as pointy as it did just a second ago. Rye jumped into his arms, getting the front of his shirt wet, and Peeta winced. Katniss pretended she didn’t notice, but Finn certainly did. Cue, the devil grin.
“Dad, why are you wet too? Did you two went swimming without me? It’s too cold for swimming. Why did you go swimming?” Rye complained.
“No, of course we wouldn’t do that! We just had a little problem with the hose in the sink,”
“Man, you don’t even know how to handle your own hose?” Finnick laughed again and it was Peeta’s turn to glare. More softly, Peeta convinced Rye to go play in the living room for a while, letting them deal with the mess in the kitchen. The boy ran off to play but not before hugging Finn and shouting out a “Thanks uncle Finnick!”
“Any time rugrat!” he waited until Rye was out of earshot before directing his attention to them. Quietly, he whispered, “Now, I’m sure me and Annie will be babysitting more often based on your disheveled looks and swollen lips. Peet, I think you still have some saliva right here,” Finnick pointed at his own chin and laughed even harder when Peeta wiped off some nonexistent saliva. Katniss scowled.
“Has anyone told you that you’re the best cockblocker there is? Besides being a real pain in the ass,” Peeta grumbled.
“Yes, I do have heard that before,” Finn confirmed.
“Thanks for taking care of Rye and dropping him off, and say thanks to Annie as well. You may leave now,”
“Okay, okay, I know when I’m not wanted.” He held up his hands in surrender. “Try to keep it clean in front of Rye would you?” he laughed, but neither of them found the joke funny.
“Yeah, yeah, asshole, thanks.” She flipped him off and paddled into the kitchen, trying not to slip.
“Bye Kitty!” she heard Finnick and Peeta talking in rapid succession in the living room, not really being able to make out what they were saying. Instead, she got to work and started sweeping water into the drain, trying as much as possible to keep it from running into the foyer; although she imagined with her and Peeta walking soaking wet to greet Rye and Finnick, the entrance mustn’t have been too dry either.
Peeta finished his conversation with Finnick not too long after and did the same as her. Once the floor was dry enough, they moped it and let it dry on its own. Thankfully, only some water had splashed the countertops, nothing that couldn’t be solved with a passing of a dry cloth.
“Is it going to be this awkward every time we make out?” Peeta questioned in between the thick silence. They heard Rye quietly talking to himself, playing with his action figures, and Peeta kept his voice down so Rye wouldn’t hear them.
“I hope not,” she bit her lip, also speaking in a low tone. “How’s your erection doing?”
“Nearly nonexistent now, thanks for asking.” He chuckled. More seriously he added, “did it feel natural to you? Being with me like that, I mean. Because I swear nothing has felt as easy to me,”
“You’re saying I’m easy?” she cocked a hand on her hip.
“What? No! I- fuck, I,” he babbled. “You know that’s not what I mean. You’re very stubborn, no doubt, and certainly not, um,” he gulped. “easy, anything but, in fact, although in the best way possible! Ah foutre, –what I meant is that for me it feels so natural being with you. Not only, uh, making out. Just doing mundane things like the dishes or eating,” He gestured around them, “or moping the floor. It feels right,” Peeta rambled on. She thought it was cute.
She blushed. “The problem has never been that it doesn’t feel right,” because it did feel right. So much. “I just worry about how it might affect our professional agreement.”
“You kissed me just a few minutes ago,” Peeta shrugged. “Not that I’m complaining.”
She huffed. “I know. It was a moment of weakness. I know that makes me a complete hypocrite because less than twelve hours ago I was just saying how we should give this time and here I am kissing you, but…”
“I know,” he took her hand and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles. “I promise I’m not trying to pressure you. I’ll be patient, I promise. I’ll wait as long as I have to,”
“Why?”
“Because you’re amazing.” He said simply. “I’ve never met anyone like you, and I’m not sure I ever will. You have to take a chance when incredible things like this happen. Really, Katniss, you don’t know the effect you have on people,”
The honesty in his eyes surprised her, and she knew he wasn’t lying. If all he wanted was meaningless sex or a one-night stand, he wouldn’t risk complicating his relationship with his son’s nanny. She didn’t like getting attached, didn’t like losing people she loved, because that’s all she had ever learned to do.  And now she knew that one night of just sex wouldn’t be enough with Peeta, because he clearly wanted more.
“Thank you,” she said, ordering her voice not to demonstrate just how scared and insecure she really felt. He kissed her hand again and then let go, each continuing with their cleaning tasks. Neither the walls nor the roof had been harmed; the floor received all the water damage. With the kitchen looking spotless, they waddled like penguins to their respective rooms to take a warm shower and get dressed. Peeta took Rye with him, insisting he needed help shampooing his hair.
Inside the warm shower, all she wanted to do was stay under the hot stream cascading over her for the rest of her life so she could be alone with the thoughts crawling around her head, but Peeta would be going to work soon and she needed to tend to Rye, so a 5-minute shower would have to do. The water service was cheaper after 10 pm, so maybe once Rye and Peeta were in bed she could opt for her long, relaxing bath.
She toweled her body off, remembering Peeta’s touch running over her skin. His fingers around her nipples, his lips on her neck, her own hands in his hair… she shivered. She knew she desired him, there was no questioning. She just wondered how long she could hold on.
Putting those dirty thoughts away, she dressed comfortably in a sweater and some yoga pants. With a pair of fuzzy socks on her feet, she walked to the living room while braiding her hair. The living room was fine except for a few toys scattered around, the ones Rye had just been playing with, and finally the kitchen had dried completely. Everything seemed to be in order. She heard Rye and Peeta still upstairs, probably getting dressed. She noticed her purse thrown near the couch, surely from her and Peeta’s haste to get upstairs when they got home the night before. Her phone was still inside and she hadn’t checked it since getting to the club.
There wasn’t much in her cell, a few greeting texts from Thom and Gale asking if she was still alive, which made her realize she’d been a pretty shitty friend lately. She vowed to FaceTime them when they got together to see all of them. Additionally, she had a text from Johanna from this morning and, surprisingly, two from Madge dated from early hours of the morning.
Jo: how did it go with your man candy? 4:42 am
She briefly texted Jo to let her know “I have no man candy!”, but it wasn’t even 9 am yet, which meant that it was around three in the morning in Panem. Jo was probably asleep. Then she read Madge’s texts.
Madge: got home okay? 1:17 am
Madge: Cato asked me for your number, said you left unexpectedly. Should I give it to him? 1:59 am
Oh fuck. Cato.
Katniss didn’t consider herself to be a bad person. Sure, she could be rude and not exactly pleasant, and she didn’t smile much, and she wasn’t big on physical affection, and she wasn’t a people person, unlike Peeta. Regardless of all that, she had never really had bad intentions with anyone. But now she knew that what she had done the night before to Cato had been cruel. She had been really shitty. For God’s sake, she had put on her nice underwear thinking about a what if with Cato and had ended up broadcasting it to Peeta instead.
And it wasn’t as if she didn’t like Cato! They had been having a perfectly nice time before Peeta showed up; there had been some sexual tension in there for a while and he was good looking and nice and kind, too. Despite all that, truth was, in her eyes, Cato couldn’t hold a candle to Peeta, but regardless he didn’t deserve how she had discarded him the night before, without even much as an explanation or even a farewell. She felt sick with herself.
Katniss: sure, give it to him. Thanks 8:44 am
She didn’t wait for Madge’s answer because two sets of footsteps pounded down the stairs. On the couch, Rye burrowed into her side with his Nintendo DS in his hands and she pressed a kiss to his golden hair, which was now wet from his shower. He was dressed in some pants and a long sleeved sweater.
He was the only (little) man who wasn’t making her life complicated at the moment.
Her first complication stood in front of them clad in his work uniform: a pair of washed up jeans –that made her want to tear them from his body with her teeth– and a cotton white shirt with the boulangerie’s logo placed over his heart. Symbolic, she thought.
“Well, since everything seems to be under control in here, I should get going to work,” Peeta scratched the back of his head. From him emanated a delicious manly smell of aftershave and perfume. She shivered.
“Pinky promise you won’t be back late!” Rye stood up in a flash from her side and held up his pinky. Peeta took it and wrapped it around his own finger.
“I’ll be back by 5, okay buddy? We can cook dinner together later. I love you.” He opened his arms and Rye wasted no time in jumping into them. She eyed Peeta and their eyes met behind Rye’s head.
5 pm? Their original agreement was that Peeta wouldn’t be back until 8 or 9 pm because he usually stayed behind to deal with the books and such. He saw her confused stare and mouther later at her. She nodded unquestioningly.
After Peeta placed Rye down, he burrowed next to her once again, console in hand. Peeta looked at them warmly. He seemed to sway back and forth, debating on whether holding her would be a good idea. Instead, he settled for pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head when Rye wasn’t looking. Katniss blushed. She could already feel things changing between them, and she didn’t exactly hate it, but she was definitely afraid. She had always been a coward when it came to feelings.
Rye kept himself entertained for a while with his video game, meanwhile she watched him play Mario Bros and laughed every time he jumped over a turtle and ended up being killed by its shell. Mario did its job for almost an hour, but eventually Rye got bored and threw the console aside.
“Alright, tyke. What do you want to do?”
“Can we make some cookies?”
Katniss sighed. She was completely useless when it came to baking. And she hated wasting perfectly good ingredients when she knew the results would come out pathetic. “Rye…”
“Pleeeeease?” the boy had inherited his father’s charm, no doubt. When he looked at her with those round, blue eyes, Katniss knew she was a sucker for Mellark men.
Unsurprisingly, Rye was the one who led her through the whole process of baking, as he had been baking with Peeta since he could walk. They settled for sugar cookies since it was the recipe Rye knew best. He was on mixing duty, while her job was looking for the ingredients he couldn’t reach on his own and handling the oven and the three trays, which held  half a dozen cookies each.
“It’s good,” Rye said around the wooden spoon he was licking.
“Yeah,” she said around her own spoon. He was sitting on the counter in front of her while she stood concentrated on eating the cookie dough from her spoon. They were waiting for the oven to beep.
Katniss eyed the empty bowl. “Don’t tell your father we ate all that was left of the dough,”
Rye held up his right hand. “You have my word, mademoiselle,” she smiled. Ever so charming; the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. “Can we take Santa some cookies later? We can go see him at the mall,”
“I don’t see why not. We can go after your nap. That way you can tell him what you want for Christmas,” she knew Peeta was a little nervous because it was already mid-December and Rye had yet to conclude what he wished for Christmas. Peeta had already bought some gifts, but he wasn’t sure it was exactly what Rye wanted. The boy had had a rough year, with his mother leaving and all, so Peeta wanted to make Christmas extra special.
“You think Santa will give me what I want?”
She frowned. “Why wouldn’t he? You are a very good boy. As long as you don’t ask for a brand new car or a pony or a spaceship, I think we’re fine,” she tickled his sides until he laughed. Katniss was suddenly very afraid that he would ask for something heartbreaking, like wishing to spend the holidays with his mother. She wasn’t sure how Peeta could explain that.
“Sorry son, no can do. Your mother is a heartless woman and she doesn’t want anything to do with you. Better luck next year, though. Here, have this Iron Man mask instead,”  
Yeah, that would go well.
She washed the dirty dishes and Rye dried, dutifully by her side until the oven beeped. She set the cookies out on the counter to cold in a bowl and Rye stood next to it, waiting every second until he could grab one. When they no longer oozed out steam, she gave him the go ahead and he wasted no time in biting into the cookie.
He nodded approvingly and she tried not to laugh at the serious look on his face. “Daddy will like them,”
She bit one cookie. She had to agree; by being done by a 4-year-old and a useless-in-the-kitchen 21-year-old, they were not bad at all, especially considering it was their first attempt at baking together all on their own devices. Crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside and sugary everywhere.
With all the cookie baking and cleaning, it was already past 11 in the morning, almost noon, which meant she had to get started on lunch, even if neither of them were hungry thanks to all the cookie dough-eating, they would get hungry eventually. Best to get it over with.
Rye hated lunch duty, so he sat quietly on the kitchen table to draw while she made something quick for the two of them, some creamy chicken and herbs to go with pasta. While she prepped the food, she debated with herself whether they should take Peeta some lunch too. It wasn’t something she usually did, delivering him homemade food to the bakery, but that day she felt like she wanted to. Doubtful, she called him.
He didn’t waste too much time on answering. “Hello,”
“Hi,”
“Hey, how are you two doing?”
“Just fine,” she bit her lip and paced around the kitchen. “I’m making some lunch for later. I was just, uh, wondering what you’re eating.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Haven’t really given it a thought. Things have been a little hectic since I got here earlier, so I haven’t really thought about lunch,” she could almost hear him scratching the back of his neck.
“Let me guess, the boulangerie was falling apart without you,”
He chuckled. “No, I ah, can’t really give myself that much credit. I have a good right hand in here.” She was pretty sure he meant his Dad, or even Thresh, until she heard a girlish giggle in the back.
What the fuck?
Could it be possible he was flirting with Delly while she was right on the other side of the line? When he had her naked underneath him the night before and soaking wet on his lap in the kitchen floor just that morning?
She wanted to smack herself. She had never been a jealous girl. Like, never. And she wasn’t about to start now.
She had to remember Peeta was a friendly person, sometimes too friendly, so much that the lines between friendliness and coquetry could blur a little bit. She had to stop worrying about Delly and… now the missing condoms. Fuck, no, she wasn’t thinking about that at all now. Nope.
“Katniss, are you there?” his melodic voice resonated through her ears. It was pathetic, really, how weak in the knees it made her.
“Mhmm, yeah, no. Sorry, I just zoned out,”
“Oh, okay. Well, about lunch-”
“Yeah, do you mind if I call you later? I just remembered I left the water running,” she made up.
“Ah, sure, no probl-” she hung up the phone. Instantly, she set a larger pot on high fire and filled it with water to cook the pasta.
“Rye, get your shoes.” She called into the living room. “We’re gonna pay your dad a visit,” she didn’t care about asking first; she was going to take him lunch. She had to be spontaneous every once in a while, right?
While waiting for the water to boil, she heard her phone go ding. She imagined it was Peeta, but she didn’t think it would be Cato.
Unknown: hey, morning. It’s Cato 11:57 am
“Fuck,” she cursed out loud. Rye raised his head. “Don’t repeat that.”
She saved Cato’s number and texted him back.
Katniss: hi. 11:59 am
Wow, very good Katniss. Very articulate.
Cato: so… 12:00 pm
Katniss: listen, I’m really sorry about last night. I know I was a complete a-hole and I just left without saying anything, and you deserve so much better, because you’re really nice and I’m not good with words and I’m just really sorry 12:04 pm
Cato: thanks for your apology, although I would really like to talk this out in person. Meet me later for coffee? 12:10 pm
Katniss: can’t. I’m working all day. Babysitter and all 12:11pm
Cato: I don’t mind.  You can bring your kid. We can meet at a McDonalds or smth so they play around in the park 12:13 pm
Would it really be a good idea? Taking Rye behind Peeta’s back to meet with Cato? Well, it wasn’t as if they would be doing something improper. They’ll just talk; she figured that after leaving him behind on Sunday night, the last thing she could do was granting him a face-to-face meeting so he could call her ugly names to her own face.
Katniss: fine. Meet me at 5 at the McDonalds in Cours 12:19 pm
Cato texted back his agreement and that was that, a meeting was set up. She just hoped Peeta wouldn’t get mad for taking Rye with her. She hoped she was doing the right thing. Maybe she should ask him first. Yes, that’s what a responsible adult taking care of someone else’s child would do.
The water boiled behind her and she added a pinch of salt. She threw spaghetti in; it was Rye’s favorite. She nearly burned her hand with the hot bubbles, lost in her own swirling thoughts. Maybe Peeta was right; maybe she did think too much.
Rye was still drawing quietly on the table, humming Mickey Mouse Clubhouse’s themed song. She smiled and inched closer, sitting next to him. He didn’t even look up as she took a sheet of paper and some crayons he wasn’t using and started drawing.
She didn’t even know what she wanted to draw, instead letting her fingers move on their own. In the end she got a meadow with green tall grass and bright blue skies; not good by any standards, unlike Peeta’s own portraits, but she rejoiced in the fact that it’d been a while since she had allowed herself to do such mundane things like drawing.
Her sister enjoyed to do it as well. After she died, Katniss could barely see colored pencils, for it brought her a wave of too dark feelings. Much less draw.
To finish the picture, she drew a small girl with sun-colored tresses weaved into two braids, wearing a long skirt with a wrongly tucked in shirt. She hoped she was imagining her eyes burning.
“Ohh,” Rye brought her back. “It’s good. Who’s that?” he pointed to Prim.
“Someone I used to know.” She answered nonchalantly. She hastily folded the paper and tucked it inside a drawer in the kitchen. She’d retrieve it later when Rye didn’t notice so he wouldn’t ask any more questions. As much as she cared for him, there were some parts of her life she wasn’t ready to share with the kid, much less Peeta.
The pasta was already done by then. She strained it and mixed it with the chicken sauce she’d made. She divided it into three take-out containers and packed each with a set of silverware inside a lunchbox.
Rye already had his shoes on. She left him quietly drawing, making sure everything in the kitchen was turned off, and went to change into some jeans, two t-shirts, a sweater and a jacket, and a pair of boots to handle off the cold. Next she bundled Rye up like a penguin and with one hand in his, and the other holding their food, they walked to the car Peeta had lend her.
It wasn’t a long ride to the boulangerie. Rye chattered the whole way; it was clear he was excited by the prospect of visiting his father at work. Katniss made a mental note to do it more often, seeing as it made the little boy so happy.
When they pulled up in front of the familiar dark-wooded establishment, she felt a sense of comfort. Behind the cakes’ display she could see a line inside. She unbuckled Rye and hand in hand they walked inside.
The warmth greeted her like a hug. As if the ovens from the back weren’t enough, the chimney was also lit. It was all so homey and comfortable.
She took a look at the line, which consisted only on about five or six people. Lunch rush must have already passed. Delly was handling the cashier and threw her and Rye a grin when she spotted them, going back to the client in front of her. Rye waved and Katniss tried not to grimace too much.
Thresh was serving customers. He greeted the pair by also grinning and throwing a hand towards the back, where she assumed Peeta was. Rye went ahead of her towards the back, fist-bumping with Thresh as he passed by. Katniss sent his way a small smile and followed Rye. She could already hear him shouting for his father.
When she walked inside the kitchen, Peeta was kneeled in front of Rye, his arms enveloping him in a hug. His eyes focused on her behind his son’s head and she could swear his eyes shone a tad brighter. Maybe it was just her imagination, although she hoped not.
“We brought you lunch,” Katniss raised the lunchbox she was carrying.
Peeta led them to his office and they sat on the small table he kept there to eat. Rye sat in between them and dug into his lunch as soon as Katniss set it in front of him. Peeta waited for her to sit until he started eating alongside her. She had to admit that for being nearly useless in the kitchen, pasta was good. Rye and Peeta seemed to agree, judging by how fast they ate. She sighed. Men.
“To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?” Peeta asked, wiping around his mouth with a napkin.
She shrugged, not looking up from her plate. “You didn’t have lunch, and I made extra pasta, so I thought why not?”
“Well, I’m so glad you did. It was the best lunch I’ve had in a while,” Katniss raised an eyebrow and mouthed bullshit. Peeta snorted. “No really, thank you so much.”
“De rien,” Rye chirped in from between them, fumbling with the last noodles from his plate. Katniss smiled and helped him get a hold and get them inside his mouth. “We made sugar cookies!” he said happily after swallowing. Katniss wiped around his mouth and he giggled.
“You did?” Peeta raised a brow. Rye nodded. “Well, I can’t wait to try them when I get home later.”
“Rye did a very good job,” Katniss said proudly. “I just handed him the ingredients and handled the oven.” Rye grinned and shrugged modestly.
“I am pretty cool.” She and Peeta laughed loudly.
They remained talking a while longer until Katniss realized they were keeping him from work. “Rye, I think it’s time we go. Your dad needs to work, and you should take your nap.”
“I’m not tired,” he complained, but as he said it he rubbed his eyes and let loose a yawn. Katniss bit her lip.
“Katniss is right little man. I really enjoyed you coming to visit but now I really need to work so I can get out early and we can make dinner together.” She knew Peeta had him there.
“Fine,” Rye compromised and the three stood up.
“Go say hi to Grandpa. I think he just got back from running errands,” the boy ran out. She’d forgotten about Peeta’s dad. She didn’t notice she was looking after Rye until Peeta called her name. Together they picked the plates and silverware and stuffed them inside the lunchbox.
“He’ll be fine. My dad’s just through the door.” She nodded. “I, uh, really enjoyed lunch. It was very nice of you.”
She smiled. “It was no problem. I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she didn’t let on she convinced herself to do it after a jealousy-induced confrontation with her mind.
The air grew thick with an indescribable feeling. She tried not to groan at how much she wanted to throw herself at him. She noticed Peeta raise his hand to tuck in a loose strand of hair behind her ear, but he didn’t remove it; instead he rested his palm against her cheek and she found herself leaning against it.
Boldly, she closed the space between them and pressed their lips together. The kiss wasn’t like the others they’d shared; this was slow and tender, chaste at best. Soft pressing of lips together, sighs against the other’s mouth. She couldn’t decide if she liked these or the hard and passionate kisses better. She figured she loved kissing Peeta in whichever way it was.
Their lips didn’t seem to tire, wanting to remain attached, but their lungs screamed for air. Reluctantly, she was the first to break apart and nearly melted at the look full of adoration he gave her.
She was pretty sure she could die right there, and then Peeta started delivering soft, tender kisses all over her face; eyelids, forehead, nose, temples, cheeks, chin. She sighed in contentment and felt the butterflies in her stomach doing furious flutters.
“You’re too much,” he whispered, voice awed. “I know you’re scared, but just know that I’ll take you in any way I can have you. I don’t want to lose you.”
“Even if I decide that you and I being romantically involved is not a possibility?” she wasn’t sure if she was teasing or not.
“I would certainly hate to say goodbye to kissing your lips, being as amazing as they are. And your soft cheeks,” his thumbs rubbed her cheekbones slowly. “and your cute button nose.” He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose and then to her forehead. “and your forehead. But your wish is my command, mademoiselle. I just want to make you happy,”
“You do,” she whispered back. “so much.” Her eyes shut and their foreheads rested together.
And she meant it. She hadn’t realized just how much of a part Peeta had played in her happiness ever since she had gotten to France. He always took care of her, asking if she was okay or if she needed anything; he always made her laugh and he made her feel part of his family. He was her comfort. She had been so afraid of letting him in that she hadn’t realized her walls were already down.
Katniss stroked his face tenderly. “Don’t get back too late tonight,” it was an unspoken promise they both understood. He nodded against her skin and kissed her forehead one last time before they walked out of the office together.
Peeta’s father greeted her with a grin and a hug, as always. Rye was in one of his arms and he wrapped the other around Katniss. Jean Mellark was the older version of Peeta, kindness and all.
“Qu'est-ce que vous ferez cette soirée ?” Jean asked her. Sometimes she had to think before responding; he didn’t speak English, and Katniss’s level of French could have probably been considered A2 at best.
Shit. She’d forgotten to ask Peeta about her evening plans with Rye and Cato.
“Um, well,” she looked at Peeta. “I was thinking I could take Rye to McDonalds or something so he can play in the park. A friend of mine asked me to meet him and he suggested McDonalds so I can take Rye with me,”
“Oh,” he frowned a little, obviously not missing the him. “That’s fine. Uh, what time?”
“Around 5,”
“Oh,” he repeated. “Well, I was planning on getting home around that time, but I can stay a little later getting some work done until you both get home.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am,” he gave a tight-lipped smile that didn’t seem very real to her. “Just do what you need to do.”
“Thanks,” then she turned back to Jean and told him she’d be taking Rye to McDonalds later, to which the boy squeaked and grinned.
She and Rye got going, and after waving goodbye to Jean and the rest of the staff, they walked to the car with Peeta behind them. He got his son buckled in and kissed his cheek, then he stepped next to her window and she rolled it down. He still looked a little troubled.
His hand rested on the door, and she took it and gave what she hoped was a tight, comforting squeeze. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. Trust me,” she smiled.
His eyes lost the worry a little, instead being replaced by warmth. “You know I trust you. I just, shit…” he didn’t elaborate any further.
“See you tonight. I promise,” she threw him a longing glaze and he backed away from the car so she could drive away. She didn’t miss the light smile grazing his lips.
Rye fell asleep five minutes down the road. She snorted; kids hated their schedules but they didn’t realize just how dependent they were of it. Katniss herself was like that too. Once upon a time she had had to follow a schedule religiously, otherwise she would have lost her mind completely.
Instead of wallowing in her thoughts, she continued the ride in silence and enjoyed the view. France really did have much to offer, and she was lucky she got to see it.
Even if she was freezing her ass off.
When they got home, she quickly unbuckled Rye and tucked him into bed. She left him in his clothes as not to wake him, but she removed his jacket and shoes. She pressed a soft kiss to his blonde curls and walked out. He’d most likely be up around 4, so she had some time to kill.
Trying to be useful, she set up the washing machine to do some laundry. She went with the light-colored clothes, blushing when she noticed a pair of Peeta’s white boxer briefs. She totally didn’t imagine them snug tight around his muscular thighs and crotch –nope, not at all.
While the machine got the job done, she swept and moped around the house and dusted off some shelves. She picked some of Rye’s toys that were scattered around and tidied up the living room. The house was mainly clean, though, so she didn’t have much more to do. She even had time to try and be not such a shitty friend and texted her friends in Panem, asking them how everything was going. Their answers were pretty much the same; they were fine albeit a little mad at her for becoming too French and not having time for her old buddies. She knew they were mostly teasing, but she could also detect a real hurt behind the words.
I know I’ve been shitty, she texted back on the group chat. I promise to not disappear on you guys as often.
She even had a text from Madge from earlier.
Madge: sure, no problem. I just wasn’t sure, considering what arose between you two yesterday 2: 31 pm
Katniss: everything was my fault. We texted and I apologized, but he wants to meet later to ‘talk things out face to face’. He was surprisingly nice after the whole thing 3:46 pm
She really wasn’t sure why she was telling Madge about Cato. They weren’t besties or anything, but she supposed it was because Madge had been the one to encourage her in the first place to go out with him, and girl-friends shared that kind of stuff: the following day after hanging out with a guy. Even if she had left the club with a different guy than the one she’d gone in with.
She was surprised when the phone beeped back quickly.
Madge: oh well that’s cool I guess. I told you he’s a nice guy. He probably isn’t too mad if he wants to see you 3:48 pm
Katniss: it’s either that or he wants to kick me in the face 3:49 pm
Madge: lol I don’t think so. Don’t fret, I’m sure he’ll understand. Hope everything works out darling! 3:51 pm
She quickly texted back thanks and turned away from her phone. She decided she deserved some bad TV. She flipped through the channels until she got to Disney and noticed Hercules was just beginning; it was one of her favorites, so she couldn’t really complain.
Hercules had just given up his powers to Hades in order to save Meg, only to realize she’d been working for the god all along, when soft feet paddled down the stairs and a small body sat next to her on her lap. Rye had dragged his Toy Story blanket down and had it over his head like a hood. She smiled. They sat quietly until the movie ended.
When the credits rolled, Rye looked up at her. “Can we get ice cream at McDonalds?” she wondered how he could possibly want ice cream when the temperatures outside dropped lower with every passing day, but who was she to judge.
“Sure,” she shrugged. “You can go look for you shoes…” Rye ran off before she could finish. “…if you want.”
It was already a quarter to 5 when they left the house. The McDonalds where she had agreed to meet Cato was only a 10-minute walk, so she and Rye decided to go by foot. Even if the cold was troublesome, the walk was quick and the scenery was worth it.
The establishment was fairly empty; not many parents brought their kids to McDonalds on a Monday afternoon.
She noticed a single guy hunched over a table, sticking out like a sore thumb. Cato. He glanced up as if sensing her presence and gave her a small smile. She pulled Rye forward and Cato stood up.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” she said back.
“Hello,” Rye said in between. Cato looked down and smiled.
“Hey there, I’m Cato. What’s your name?” Rye suddenly shied away behind her legs.
“It’s alright,” she encouraged. “you can tell him your name.”
“I’m Rye” he mumbled. Cato held out his hand and they shook.
“Nice to meet you little guy. Katniss mentioned you like superheroes. I must say The Hulk is my personal favorite. He’s the coolest,” his eyes shone.
Rye’s eyes widened. “No way! Batman’s cooler!” they could have gotten into a dispute right there, but Katniss inched Rye forward.
“Why don’t you go play for a while? I’ll call you later when I get your ice cream,” Rye looked unsure, protective. He held her hand tighter, as if he wasn’t sure Cato was safe enough to leave his babysitter alone with him. “It’s fine, Rye. I promise,” she kissed his nose and he skipped away, still a little unsure. They sat on a table that had full display of the playground.
“So, I uh, don’t know where to begin.” She said awkwardly.
“I think you can start by getting me a sundae.” Cato started off, not unkindly. “I think I deserve it. And then we can talk about what the heck happened last night,”
She nodded and stood up.
Peeta was itching to get home.
It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling for him; he always wanted to go back to his son as soon as he could. And since Katniss started working with them, even more so.
Today he just wanted to go and cook dinner with them and lay and watch a movie. He’d even settle for watching The Incredibles (1 and 2) for the hundredth time. Even more so, he wanted to go and wrap Katniss in a blanket and keep her away from the world; or, more specifically, from the guy she was meeting with.
Peeta didn’t want to ask, but he assumed she was meeting with the same guy she was dancing with at the club the night before when he’d gotten there, her friend from French class. Considering on how she didn’t elaborate, he presumed he was right about her meeting companion. He might had been a little jealous. Just a bit.
Before he met her, Annie had mentioned Katniss being cute, and she sure looked so during the couple Skype sessions they had had before getting to France, but he wasn’t prepared for the raven-haired beauty that they picked up from the airport. His heart went into overdrive from day one.
He was convinced love at first sight was a real thing the day he met his son. Those thoughts were reinforced as soon as he met Katniss. He was about ready to crawl to his knees and declare his undying love. He thought that might freak her out slightly, so he refrained.
If anything, he’d noticed how quickly his feelings towards Katniss intensified with the passing of every day. Just watching her smile and be with Rye was enough for his heart to burst. And now he knew she wanted him.
He understood her hesitation, and he cursed himself for perhaps not giving much thought to the matter as she did. But the truth was he did think it through, many times. Read and reread her contract on several occasions, imagined every possible scenario. Things could blow under their noses if it didn’t work out; and, usually, you shouldn’t start off a new relationship by thinking how it might fail.
He figured it was worth a try. He’d never felt this way about anyone, not even his ex-wife, which was understandable considering their marriage had been a shotgun wedding. But now that he knew Katniss was also interested in him, even more so he wanted to give it a shot. But he truly meant what he’d said earlier; all he wanted was to make her happy. Even if that included him in a romantic aspect of her life or not.
“We should get going, son,” his father appeared and Peeta raised his head from the dough he was kneading. “Thresh will close.”
He threw a glance at the clock hanging from the wall. It read 5:21 pm, which meant that Katniss and Rye would have only just gotten to their destination less than half hour ago. He didn’t feel like going to an empty house, so he figured he’ll work at least another half hour. He told his father so and the man nodded knowingly while also throwing him a warning glance.
“Don’t stay here for too long,” his Dad ordered softly in French. “remember what you have waiting for you at home,”
Peeta nodded, although he knew perfectly what he had waiting for him. “I know, dad. Don’t worry. Half hour and I’m gone, promise.”
“So, ah, I’ve been meaning to tell you, it’s been a long time since you and Rye have visited your mom and I at the house. She’s missing the boy. She suggested that you three join us for dinner on Sunday,” Dad said and Peeta balked. The three of them?
His father read his expression. “I know, but she asked for Katniss to be included. It’s been over two months and your mother still hasn’t met the girl.”
Peeta wanted to argue, asking whose fault that was, but he didn’t want to take it out on his Dad. The poor man was just the messenger. “I, uh, I don’t know if Katniss has any plans on her own or with Rye. I’ll have to ask her and I’ll let you know.”
Dad raised an eyebrow. “Sure thing, son. See you tomorrow,” He patted Peeta’s back and walked out. Peeta held back a sigh. If his mother wanted to meet Katniss, that couldn’t be good. She’d only been with them for two months. He didn’t want his mother to scare her away. Especially not when things between them were going… good? He wasn’t exactly sure how to call it. But now he knew that she wanted him as much as he wanted her, so he figured that was progress. They were heading somewhere.
He worked in silence for another 20 minutes or so, putting away the remaining loaves of bread and cleaning the kitchen and ovens, until he figured he’d probably had enough. He gathered his stuff and waved goodbye to Thresh, who was on closing duty, on his way out.
The drive home was quick; he was anxious to get to Rye and Katniss. Supposing they were already home…
He was disappointed, albeit not surprised, when he noticed Katniss’s car wasn’t in the garage. They weren’t back from McDonalds yet. He was already home, so he figured he might as well get started on making the dough for some homemade pizza while Katniss and Rye arrived.
The house was cold. The chimney wasn’t on so he went and got a fire going to warm up. He put an apron over his work clothes and started gathering the ingredients for the dough. Making pizza was one of Rye’s favorite things to bake, so he knew the recipe by heart. He was sad he couldn’t remember the last time he had made homemade pizza with his son. But he was determined that he’d change that.
Around a quarter past 7 he just had put the dough to chill when he heard a car entering the garage; it took no time at all until Katniss and Rye were walking through the front door, shedding their coats and boots. Rye came running through the kitchen door and threw himself at him. Peeta’s heart swelled.
“Dad! You’re home,” he pressed a kiss to his head and hugged him tighter. Katniss watched fondly from the doorway; she didn’t want to interrupt the moment.
“Well I did say I’d come back early so we can make dinner together. I was thinking homemade pizza,” he barely got the words out before Rye started cheering.
The boy turned towards Katniss, “You have to try our pizza. It’s the best!” she smiled.
“I don’t doubt it,” she ruffled his hair.
Rye was a little disappointed when he learned that Peeta had already done the dough on his own, but he lit up when he told him he could smear the sauce and cheese and put whatever toppings he wanted on his pizza.
“Why don’t you go change so you don’t get your clothes dirty?” Katniss suggested. “Go on up and I’ll get you something out,” he sprang up the stairs like a banshee. Peeta laughed.
He looked after his son and didn’t look at Katniss until she said, “Hi.” Her cheeks were rosy from the cold. She was adorable. Gorgeous.
“Hi,” since he left for work that morning he’d been debating what gesture would be appropriate to use with her. He was still wondering whether a kiss was too much or not when she made the decision herself and strutted towards him. Her mittens-covered hands went to his cheeks and her lips covered his in a soft kiss that caught his breath.
She seemed to tense a little when he was just standing there like an idiot instead of reciprocating, so he quickly caressed her cheek with one hand while the other went to her back, lips moving against hers gently. He had to remember his son was upstairs to stop himself from exploring her mouth with his tongue.
Their kiss was gentle, paused, as if they had all the time in the world, which they clearly didn’t because small feet would be coming down the stairs in no time.
Katniss pulled away first and looked at him shyly though her lashes, unsure. He smiled to reassure her and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. The few times they’d kissed before, she always tasted differently; at the bar she had tasted like beer and a touch of tequila and lime, during breakfast it’d been mushrooms. Now, she tasted like strawberry syrup and peanuts. No matter her flavor, she always tasted delicious.
He had the dirtiest thought; he was sure her other lips would taste just as delicious, and with the twitch his cock gave he snapped himself out of those distracting thoughts. Although that didn’t make him wish any less that he’d get to taste Katniss. Soon, if it was possible. He was trying so badly to be good and respect her wishes, but he was just a man.
She gave him a bashful look. “I gotta go tend Rye,” he nodded and up the stairs she went. He heard Katniss and Rye laughing and giggling all the way from his room. He didn’t mind one bit that they were ganging up on him or that they had their own inside jokes. He loved the relationship they had; he was thrilled they got along so well. He truly couldn’t ask for more.
They came together down the stairs with Rye leading the way. While waiting for the dough to rise, the three of them prepped the area with the toppings they wanted and the pizza sauce (from a can, because really, who had enough time to make it from scratch?) and heard Rye go on about spending the night before at Finnick and Annie’s, who had, apparently, indulged him in watching Ratatouille while eating chocolate ice cream with lots of whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles. He wanted to go back already… to which Peeta wasn’t exactly opposed to if that meant one evening alone with Katniss.
When the dough finally rose, he kneaded it with Rye and later got the boy to help him punch it some more for extra softness. Katniss preferred to watch from the sidelines.
They made two big pizzas, and it got them a little longer to finish because Katniss kept eating the mozzarella cheese behind whenever Peeta’s back was turned, which made Rye erupt into giggles every time. They added olives, pepperoni, sausage, corn and mushrooms on one, and for the other Peeta wanted to do an extra cheesy with pineapples, but Rye wouldn’t let him.
“Daddy, pineapples don’t mix with pizza!” he argued.
“They do! Otherwise why is there a type of pizza called Hawaiian? It specifically has pineapple on it. Katniss, back me up on this one.”
She shook her head. “Sorry, no can do. I’m with my buddy on this one: pizza and pineapple just don’t go together.” She and Rye high-fived. They were totally ganging up against him. And he didn’t care one bit.
“Two against one. That means no pineapple pizza!” Peeta sighed deeply, not at all annoyed. Instead they settled for a vegetarian, which he knew Katniss liked just as much as mushroom and sausage pizza.
When they were finally in the oven, Rye insisted on camping next to the oven with the inside light on. He loved watching the cheese melt, something Peeta hadn’t been able to take away from him, even if it did panic him that he was staying so close to the heat. He always made him promise just looking, no touching, a rule Rye dutifully agreed to.
Katniss went to change out of her street clothes and he waited by Rye. He was itching to know how her meeting with the blond man she was with yesterday had gone, but he didn’t want to seem overly pushy. He figured she’d tell him when she deemed it appropriate.
A few minutes later, when the cheese on both pizzas had finally melted and Rye had gotten bored, they went to the living room to play with his action figures. Peeta always got to be Captain America, because Rye said he looked just like him, while Rye was Iron Man. When Peeta had asked his son why he wasn’t Cap, insisting that he looked like him too, Rye had just said that Iron Man was cooler cause he had a nearly indestructible suit.
And he’s super rich too, he’d said.
Who could argue with that logic?
When Katniss walked out of her room comfortably dressed in some pants, a camisole and a sweater with a face freshly washed, he could feel his heart doing somersaults. He was deep in for her. It worried him a bit, but it excited him even more.
Rye paid no attention to Katniss when she sat on the couch above them from where they sat on the floor; he was still shooting imaginary lasers at Thanos or whoever villain it was they were fighting this time. Katniss’s stare met Peeta’s and she threw him a longing glance and a soft smile. He grinned in response and she went back to scrolling through her phone, but Peeta could see her biting her lip just a bit. He willed the oven to cook faster so they could eat and Rye could go to bed soon.
Thankfully, his prayers were answered because the oven beeped not too long after. Rye sprang from the floor and Peeta had to run behind him to stop him from getting close to the oven. Katniss followed with a laugh.
When he got the pizza out Rye and Katniss were already sitting on the table, which had been already set up when he was waiting for the dough to rise. Katniss first served Rye his slice and cut it up for him to prevent any burns from grabbing the hot slice, then she served Peeta a slice and one for herself from the vegetarian pizza. He had to admit the pizzas turned out pretty good. Katniss seemed to think so too, considering how she moaned around her slice, and he squirmed inconspicuously on his chair.
She really had to stop moaning around him when there were other people around, because she didn’t know just how badly that affected him and his lower zone. He felt like a stupid teenager around her, always getting aroused. He was afraid when (if) they did have sex he’d last four seconds after he was inside her.
He hadn’t had sex since that one time after Thresh’s birthday party four months ago. It was completely unexpected, and he was relieved he always kept extra condoms in his wallet, just in case. The sex had been good, they had even done twice and probably would have done it more times if he had had more than two condoms on him, but even kissing Katniss felt more explosive than having sex with the redhead he’d been with. Even with his own ex-wife.
Before Thresh’s birthday it’d been over a year. He felt like a virgin again.
By the time neither of them could eat another slice, they still had the half of the vegetarian pizza left. Katniss wrapped it up in some foil paper and put it away in the fridge while Peeta did the dishes. By the time they were done tidying up the kitchen it was over 10 pm, which meant it was past Rye’s bedtime. Peeta told him so and the boy frowned and pouted.
“I’m not even tired!” he complained and stifled a yawn. Peeta tried not to snort. “and we didn’t even get to see Santa today because we were at McDonalds.” Peeta tensed.
“Katniss, you told me we’d go see Santa.”
“I did say that, didn’t I? Sorry we couldn’t go today, but I’ll take you tomorrow. Promise,” she held out her pinky and Rye looked at it suspiciously before linking it with his own. Katniss smiled and Peeta melted. “but, you have to go to sleep. Otherwise tomorrow won’t come,”
He pursed his lips and climbed up the stairs, yelling goodnight behind him. Peeta started to climb behind him so he could tuck him in. He looked behind him at Katniss, who waited at the foot of the staircase.
“Don’t go to sleep yet?” he pleaded. “I am, uh, going to say goodnight and then I’ll come down again.”
She nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ll wait,”
He threw her a smile and quickly went up the stairs into Rye’s room. He was already under the covers with only his nocturnal light on.
“Good night little guy,” Peeta sat on the edge of the bed. “Sorry I haven’t been able to do this so much lately. I promise I’ll try to tuck you in more often.”
“It’s fine Daddy. I know it’s cause you’re working a lot so you can buy me many action figures.”
Peeta laughed. “Yeah, that’s only one of the reasons. I’d love nothing more than to be all day every day with you, you know that, but as you said, I have to work so we can buy stuff, but I’ll try to take some time off. Just for you and I,”
“And Katniss?”
“Sure, Katniss too.” Peeta coughed. How was it possible his 5 year old could read him so well? Was Peeta really that see-through? “As long as you’re okay with that.”
“I’m more than okay!”
Peeta smiled. “Good. Bonne nuit, fils. Je t’aime,” He kissed his son’s forehead and closed the door behind him, only leaving it slightly ajar.
Katniss wasn’t in the kitchen when he went downstairs. He worried for a second that she’d gone to bed, but his fears eased once he saw her sitting in front of the fire. Pillows were thrown together for her comfort and she had two beers in hand. She’d recreated the scene from a few nights before.
She looked behind her just as he approached and motioned for him to sit next to her. He did, and she handed him a Corona. He took a swig.
“We never did finish the other pack the last time,” Katniss explained and her eyes shone with what he could have sworn was mischief.
“No, no we didn’t.” he laughed.
“So, um, not that I’m complaining or anything but… why did you come home so early today? I thought we had agreed you’d come in after 8,”
“Well, I, uh… I’m trying to cut back some hours. I realized I’ve been missing on many things, you know, working so hard. I want to be here for Rye,” he shrugged. “Plus, I’ve been designating more tasks on Thresh and Delly. Things I usually handed on my own, but I think it’s been long enough. I should give them a confidence vote. They deserve it,”
Katniss nodded. “Yeah, I totally get it. And things will only get more hectic once you inaugurate your new stores-”
“Yeah, I’m no longer doing that.”
“What?” her eyes widened. “Why not?”
“Same reason why I’m cutting hours: I want more time with Rye.” He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a swig. “I don’t even know why I thought about opening two more stores when I can barely handle one. I don’t want my bakery to become a chain.
“I guess it was just another of my stupid plans to try to please my mother,” he scoffed. “plans that usually never work, anyway. That woman can’t be proud of me no matter what I do.”
“Peeta! I’m sure that’s not true,”
“She invited the three of us for dinner on Sunday. Come and see for yourself,”
Katniss gulped. “Really?” what little Annie had mentioned about Peeta’s mother to Katniss wasn’t exactly too nice. To say she was worried would be an understatement. Although, it wasn’t as if she was going to be introduced to the woman as Peeta’s girlfriend; so far she was only Rye’s nanny. She wasn’t sure if that gave Mrs. Mellark more ammunition or not.
Peeta nodded and took another swig of the beer. He noticed Katniss had barely touched hers so he slowed down a little on his.
“Well, that’s fine. We’ll go.” Peeta raised an eyebrow. “But forget about your mother. I thought you wanted to expand the boulangerie?”
“I don’t know. Not really, I guess. I think I liked the idea of making my business grow, but I hadn’t realized just how much that would take and what I would be giving up. Truth be told, not even one thousand new businesses and a lot of cash would make up for spending less time with Rye.
“Besides, I’m not exactly sure that I wanted to build an empire, like that Cake Boss guy, you know. This isn’t America. For now, I’m happy with my boulangerie. Maybe down the road, once Rye’s older and he doesn’t need me as much, I’ll go for something bigger, who knows,”
“What about what you had already invested?”
“Already sold it and got the money back and paid the debt I had, that’s another reason why I had been so worked up lately. See? I’m no longer concerned about that, Katniss. Don’t try to change my mind. God knows Finnick has already been doing enough of that on his own,” at her puzzled look he explained, “Finnick was sort of like my business partner for one of the new boulangeries. He lent me the money I needed for the other store. He says I shouldn’t abandon my dream,”
“Oh.” Katniss briefly recalled the many calls Peeta and Finnick did to each other and why more recently Peeta got often annoyed at him. Even that same morning after their water war when they had been talking in hushed tones in the foyer.
“Well, if you’re pleased with what you’re doing, I’ll support you.”
“You will?”
“Absolutely. I totally get what you mean about spending more time with Rye, and I think you’re right.” She bit her lip and he twitched involuntarily. “To be honest, I always imagined the boulangerie would remain something small, you know? Just family and a few employees that are practically family. Keep the tradition and all that. Creating an empire as you said… it’s not quite Peeta. Just my opinion,”
Peeta smiled. He hoped his eyes displayed the gratefulness he felt for her right in that moment. “Thank you. You don’t know how much that means to me,” he took her hand in his and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. The ambiance shifted and another kind of tension simmered between them.
“You know,” Peeta whispered as they moved closer together, like magnets pulling on metal. “I cut hours not only because I wanted more time with Rye. I mean, that’s true, of course. But it’s not the only reason,”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I want more time with you too,” his confession hung in the air between them until Katniss freed him from his suffering.
“Well, I’m right here. Let’s not waste time,” her arms went around his neck and his breath hitched.
“Katniss… once we start this, I-I’m not sure if I’ll be able to stop,”
“Good, cause I won’t stop you.” Their lips met in a frenzy compulsion. It was as if they couldn’t stand another moment without their lips being joined.
Katniss’s tongue licked his mouth and lips, and his own tongue didn’t fall behind. He couldn’t get enough of her. He wanted to inhale her completely. He was a man dying of thirst, and she was the most delicious glass of water he’d ever tasted. His appetite for her grew agonizingly, and he wanted to devour her right there. He wanted to make her his, to satisfy her, to relish on the feel of her bare skin against his. In that moment right there he knew he would never get tired of that sensation; he would never get enough of her.
Peeta was insatiable, a man possessed. The more he kissed her, the more he wanted her. He never wanted to stop kissing her. Never wanted to remember how it felt not kissing her. Every fiber of his body ached for her while her nimble fingers on one hand clawed at the back of his neck and others on her other hand tugged on his curls vigorously. Her lithe body pressed against his, hips rocking softly together in an ardent need.
She moaned as he pushed her down against the floor, his lips still attached to her juicy flesh as one of his hands kneaded her breast, and the other kept their hips flushed together. His fly strained uncomfortably against his painful erection, and Katniss whined when he started thrusting lightly against her heat. It was stupid, really, how he coaxed out of her the most sensuous feelings Katniss had ever experienced.
Somewhere behind them she heard a bottle toppling over and hitting the floor with a clink. Its contents were probably glugging and spreading through the carpet, but neither of them seemed to pay any attention to it at the moment.
“Peeta, upstairs. Now,” she urged and Peeta wasted no time in picking her up. She tangled her legs around his hips while her lips and tongue started an aggressive attack on Peeta’s neck and jaw, everywhere they could reach.
She’d never been territorial, not one bit, but for some reason she wanted to mark him, to leave her kisses on his neck and her nail marks on his back. His breathing was labored, and she knew that wasn’t thanks to the exertion of carrying her up the stairs.
When they passed Rye’s door they quietened, being careful not to wake the boy.
Once they got to Peeta’s room, however, and the lock had been turned, their moaning took place once again. Peeta set her on the bed and sat back on his heels to take his shirt off. Katniss helped him undoing his belt. Her hands purposely touched the bulge against the zipper and Peeta hissed.
When their jeans were fully discarded, she happily massaged him through the thin fabric of his briefs. She pushed him down on the bed and sat on her haunches. She motioned for him to lift his hips so she could take off his boxers. He understood quickly and she rid him of the piece of clothing, throwing it somewhere behind her. He was fully naked in front of her, and very erect. His tip shone with precome, and her mouth watered.
She went to take her sweater off but he held her hands away, looking up at her with flushed cheeks and pinkish, swollen lips.
“Let me, please,” she nodded lightly and smiled. His hands wasted no time in going to the hem of the fabric, and in one swift motion he threw her sweater and camisole away once he got them off. His dick twitched once he noticed she didn’t have a bra on. Her breasts were perky and her nipples erect, either from the cold or excitement. He hoped it was the latter.
His thumbs rubbed her nipples and she arched her back, biting her lip so she wouldn’t wake up Rye. Her breathing got heavier.
“You don’t have to be quiet,” Peeta whispered. His thumbs were still working wonders on her nipples, but his eyes were directly on hers. “The walls are thick. I don’t want you to be quiet.” She leaned down and gave him a fervent kiss that took both their breaths away.
Getting back from him and up from the bed, she took off the rest of her pants while he watched with a burning gaze that sent shivers through her whole body. Peeta licked his lips, and he got even harder. She moved to the bed and put her hands on his chest to push him back against the pillows.
She started kissing his lips. Sensuous and slow kisses that built the anticipation, and went down to his neck, chest, stomach, until she got to his crotch. She pressed a kiss to his tip and Peeta threw his head back in a moan. She had already seen him fully naked before, but she couldn’t refrain herself from admiring his girth once again. He was thick and long and so hard, and she wanted him inside of her more than she’d ever wanted anything else. She took him fully in her hand and pumped him to get him even harder.
“Shit,” he whispered.
“I thought you said we didn’t have to be quiet,” and she engulfed him in her mouth. Since he was so big, she could only go for his tip while she used her hand to pump the rest of his length. She heard him cussing above her, his hand hovering her hair.
“Katniss, you don’t have to- Fuck! You don’t need to do that if you don’t want- ohh,” he managed.
She admired his chivalry and self-determination. She had half of his dick in her mouth and he still made sure to tell her it wasn’t necessary. “I want to, Peeta.” She licked him up and down and he groaned.
“Some girls don’t like it. Shit,”
“Some girls are stupid,” she answered and put him back inside her mouth. Peeta seemed to be enjoying it too much to say anything else, based on how his hand gripped her hair. If he only knew how much giving him head turned her on as well.
She continued giving him head, changing between sucking on his tip and licking him completely. She thrilled on the sounds that erupted from his mouth. After several minutes he squirmed and his breaths were harsh.
“Fuck! Katniss you need to stop. Please,” she ignored him and only deepthroated him, as much as her gag reflex would allow, and even then she couldn’t wrap her mouth around him completely.
“Shit, no. I’m gonna come.” He tried to push her away from his dick, although in vain, because she only sucked him faster and more furiously until she felt the first spurts of semen hit the back of her throat. It was salty and creamy and certainly arousing.
She didn’t stop sucking him until she’d milked him completely and Peeta’s breathing had slowed down. She sat on his stomach, her own arousal coating his midsection. His hands covered his face while his heartbeats returned to normal, and his skin was flushed an angry red all the way down to his stomach. She gently took his hands away from his face and pressed soft kisses to his palms. She tried not to look too smug.
“Shit. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come so fast. I wanted to last for when we… you know,” he whispered, and she hated to detect a tone of embarrassment in his voice.
She pressed his hands against her breasts and he kneaded them again. She sighed. “I meant you to come,” she said pompously, being unable to hold back her grin. “The night’s just getting started, Peeta.”  
“In that case…” he quickly maneuvered them around and pushed her underneath him so her back rested against the mattress. Her hips cradled his legs, welcoming him. “It’s my turn. We didn’t get to eat dessert after dinner, so I’m gonna eat mine now,” he mumbled as he nibbled on her ear.
“Shit,” pretty much like she’d done with him, he started pressing kisses on his path down to her center, everywhere his lips could reach. He paid special attention to her breasts and nipples. While he suckled on one nipple, he tweaked the other gently with his thumb and forefinger.
“You are exquisite,” she was sure he had seen better, but in that moment he was looking at her like she was the most precious gem in the world. His tongue dipped in her bellybutton and she keened. He continued his sensual assault until he got to where she wanted him the most. He pressed kisses to her pubic bone and then her thighs, making sure to torture her. The bastard laughed against her skin when she whined impatiently. “We have all night, love,” she didn’t have time to dwell on the petname because he was suddenly there, and her whole world fell to nothing.
“Holy fuck!”
His tongue lapped at her, drinking her and later sucking on her clit like a man possessed, like it was his job, and oh, he did it very good.
“You are the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.” He alternated between lapping at her juices and sucking her clit. “You taste even better than I imagined,” and boy, just how much had he imagined it.
Her breathing accelerated, and when he added a finger she was done for. Everything shattered around her and she uttered out several curses.
After her orgasm passed, Peeta’s face was still buried between her thighs, no doubt trying to coax a second orgasm out of her already-weak body, and she could give him another one very easily, but she wanted to come with him inside of her. She tugged on his hair gently to guide his eyes to her. His hair was tousled (her doing, no doubt), his eyes were glowing, and his mouth and chin were covered in her juices. She doubted she’d ever seen such an arousing sight. She was sure he was at full mast by now.
“I need you inside of me. Right now,” she pulled him up and joined their lips. It was a little odd tasting herself on his tongue, but she didn’t mind.
Peeta pulled away to reach for a condom on the nightstand, and suddenly she remembered about the missing condoms. She bit her lip. She wouldn’t let something so stupid ruin her night with Peeta. It didn’t matter who he used the past few condoms with; all it mattered was that now he’d be using them with her. And more than one condom, she hoped.
He ripped the package with his teeth and rolled the prophylactic down his shaft. Once he was covered, her legs opened to welcome him in graciously. She was aching for him, and by the way Peeta was looking at her through his long lashes, she wasn’t the only one.
Considering their ardent oral sex, she imagined that once they were joined it would be fast and rough, but Peeta took his time entering her, enjoying every inch that he was inside of her. He was buried to the hilt, and she had to take a breath and relax. It’d been a while for her, and he was big. She was so full. The most delicious feeling overwhelmed her.
“Merde,” Peeta cursed, and she agreed. “You are so tight, so perfect. You’re incredible,” his lips rested against her neck, and she turned her head to catch his lips.
“Kiss me,” he did so, and once she nodded against his lips, he started moving slowly and tenderly. His left hand kept himself up so he didn’t crush her, while his right hand held hers above her head. “oh shit. I’m so full,”
Once he got a rhythm going, his thrusts accelerated, and his movements were firmer. Katniss’s hips moved forward to meet Peeta’s, and her mouth uttered the most amazing sounds he had ever heard. He thrust harder, and he felt Katniss’s nails claw his shoulders and move down to his waist. He wanted her to leave her mark on him. She could scratch him all she wanted, he was totally fine with that.
He ripped his lips from hers so he could pant against her neck, “Fuck, Katniss,”
“Oh God, yes. Fuck me,” he groaned and thrust even harder. Her nails marked his back once again, and that only spurred him on. Her walls squeezed him. He knew she was close, and he nearly saw stars when she screamed his name.
“God! Peeta!” his movements slowed up to the point he nearly stilled his hips so she could recover from her orgasm. Her walls fluttered around him, and he moaned. Only then Katniss seemed to come down fully from her high. “You’re still hard,” she pushed him away from her to lay on his back, and he obeyed. She wasted no time in settling on his lap and guiding him inside of her. She was so wet he barely had any resistance at all.
“Foutre,” Peeta moaned and she nodded breathlessly. He would never get tired of being inside of her, he was sure. At that angle he hit a deeper spot inside of her. By the sounds of her moans it seemed she enjoyed it as well.
She alternated between bouncing up and down his shaft and bracing her hands on his chest so she could rock her hips against his. Back arched, mouth spread open in a moan, chest glistening with sweat and nails running through his chest made an image that would remain plastered in his mind forever. One of the most erotic things he had ever seen in his life.
She gasped when he hit a particular spot inside of her and her teeth bit deeply her lower lip. With his thumb he rubbed her lip free of her teeth and sat forward to bring their lips together, his hands placed on her back. The new angle proved to be even more satisfactory. Katniss keened and her walls tightened around him with an impending orgasm.
“I’m gonna come.”
He nodded. “Good. Fuck, me too,” her eyes shut and her moan resonated through the bedroom.
“Oh, Peeta! Yes!”
That’s all it took for him to come undone. The coil on his belly loosened and he filled the condom, hips bucking wildly against Katniss’s. She was still coming when he finished, walls fluttering wildly. He pressed kisses all over her face and she sighed, slumping tiredly against him.
He lay back against the mattress, taking her with him with her head resting on his chest. She could probably hear his erratic heartbeat. With the movement he slipped out and he felt Katniss shudder. He pressed a tender kiss to her temple and fingers played with her dark tresses. Her nails scraped his chest lightly and he shivered. Their skin was covered in sweat, but the house was cold thanks to the freezing December wind.
With Katniss by his side, he could fully appreciate the intimacy of the moment. As much as the sex had been earthshattering, he rejoiced in just having her lying next to him, her breaths mingling with his. It felt just as good. She burrowed deeper into him and he swore he felt his heart grow at least two sizes.
Her breaths were slowly slowing down, so he pressed a kiss to her temple and stood up to go to the bathroom. He could feel Katniss’s stare burning his back.
After he had cleaned himself, he took a damp cloth for Katniss.
She was still on the bed, eyes barely open. When she felt the warm fabric wiping between her legs, she opened them wider and Peeta held back a sigh and willed his dick to control itself. He already wanted to go back to being inside of her.
Since they were no longer exerting themselves with their sensuous activities, the temperature in the room dropped even lower. Katniss sniffed, and he got clothes from his closet for the both of them. He didn’t bother with underwear, considering clothes might be removed later once again. Katniss looked unsure when he handed her his clothes and he tried not to feel disappointed.
“Um, do you think it’s a good idea that I sleep here? I mean, what if Rye wakes up?” she said, but started dressing with the clothes Peeta had given her. Her skin was up in goosebumps and she was shivering.
“Well I, uh, clearly want you to sleep in here. I don’t think Rye will wake up but if he does we can figure something out later,” Peeta said bashfully. “As long as you want to stay here, of course,”
Katniss thought it through. As an answer, she lifted the duvet and burrowed beneath the covers, making some room for Peeta. He gave a quiet sigh of relief and slid into bed next to her. She took her place with her head on his chest and his arms around her, and Peeta wondered when it’d been the last time he had felt such peace.
“Katniss?”
“Yeah?”
“Sorry, I have to ask. Any regrets?”
She bit her lip. Her mind was still at war, debating whether sleeping with her boss had been a good idea, screaming how this could blow up in their faces if things didn’t work out, something Katniss hadn’t cared about when she had his mouth around him, and later his mouth between her thighs, and then his manhood inside of her. Now, nestled in his arms, she wasn’t sure if she still cared.
“No.” He would have to ask her again in the morning though…
“Good.”
Not too long after, she was asleep.
“Fuck! Harder,” she moaned just a couple of hours later.
“You’re so sexy. So tight. So perfect,” Peeta moaned from behind her.
She wasn’t entirely sure about being perfect, but she certainly did feel sexy with how Peeta’s tongue was ravaging her neck and shoulders and how the pounded in and out of her from behind. She felt sexy and powerful. Like she could take on the world.
She had woken up startled when she felt lapping between her legs with Peeta’s pants by her knees. Peeta was eating her out and she was on the brink of an orgasm. Not that she was complaining. If there existed any good way to wake up, it was that one. His wolfish stare nailed her to the bed.
He had made her come twice with his mouth on her clit, and before he could let her return the favor, he was already shedding his clothes at lightning speed and fumbling around for a condom and penetrating her, her legs up and over his shoulders while she threw her own shirt somewhere behind his head. He fucked her until she screamed his name so much her throat went raw.
She really did hope the walls were as thick as Peeta said.
Once she was boneless and sated, they switched positions, with her on top of him, her back to him as she rode him. He loved watching her ride him, his dick slipping in and out of her while she bounced up and down.
He needed to have his lips somewhere on her, so he sat forward and wrapped one arm around her chest so he could rub her breasts and the other rubbed her clit, his lips pressing ardent kisses on her skin. Katniss rocked back and forth and threw her head back in a long moan. Peeta turned her head to the side so he could capture her lips with his and Katniss moaned against his skin.
“You’re so big. You fuck me so good,” he would be lying if he hadn’t said his ego didn’t swell bigger. He kissed and thrust harder into her. He wanted to make her come so many times; fuck her until she could no longer remember how it felt not having him inside of her.
“I want to fuck you until you can’t walk straight,” he panted against her skin and she moaned again. “I want to fuck you every day. I want to make love to you. I want everything you’re able to give me,”
She tensed against him. His thrusts slowed down, “Sorry, I, fuck. I don’t want to pressure you. I don’t even know why I said that. Forget it, please. Let’s just-” his hips continued his sensual assault, pounding harder and Katniss whimpered. “Go back to what’s important.”
“Peeta-”
“I know.” He moaned through his thrusts.
Katniss gave a laugh, which soon turned into a groan. “No, I mean, oh God, I just don’t know.”
“Maybe we could continue this conversation another time. When you’re ready and when my brain hasn’t turned to mush from being inside of you,” his head slumped forward against her shoulder.
“Please.” His fingers rubbed her clit, and the combination of his thrusts, his hot breath on her neck and his fingers on her clit were her undoing. “Too much. Peeta!”
“Come for me. Merde, I’m gonna come,”
She exploded, and Peeta wasn’t too far behind. He lost the rhythm and his thrusts became more erratic, reckless. She squeezed him purposely so he would come with her, and he followed obediently. His hands squeezed her hips tightly, almost painfully and her breath caught. She slumped back against him and he lay them back against the sheets.
“Holy fuck,”
“That was…”
“I know.” She looked at him and they both giggled. Shiny eyes, sweaty skin, bedhead hair, and thoroughly satisfied. “Sorry I woke you up. I couldn’t help myself,”
“I don’t mind. Not one bit,” A breeze flew in and she curled into herself. It was winter in France the freaking window was open. And they were naked.
At her incredulous look, Peeta explained sheepishly, “Sorry. I can’t sleep with the windows closed. I just cracked it open a bit,”
“It’s fine,” even if her teeth were shattering and her feet were as cold as ice. She hid under the covers with Peeta and rubbed her feet up and down his calves to warm them up. Peeta nearly didn’t jump right off the bed and she laughed loudly.
“Well, you wanted the windows open. Deal with the consequences,”
“Ha, ha.” But he pulled her closer and she hid her face in his neck. Peeta’s face turned to reach for something in his nightstand. She hoped it wasn’t another condom; she wasn’t sure she could take another round so soon.
A phone screen lit up, “Shit. I have to be up in an hour,”
Katniss groaned. She detested baker hours and she wasn’t even the baker!
“Let’s make most of the hour then.” And her eyes closed. Within minutes she was asleep.
Even if she was naked, she felt oddly warm and satisfied. The sheets were up to her neck, but it was Peeta’s body heat that kept her warm, and his arms gave her a pleasant night of sleep.
At least until his demonic alarm made a shrill sound what felt like minutes later. She had the sudden need to smash the thing with a hammer.
She groaned and closed her eyes tighter. Peeta only sighed beside her, shut off the alarm and pressed a kiss to her forehead before getting up from the bed, and taking with him his body heat and her own. She shivered.
She contemplated getting up and closing the window and getting dressed. It was either that or dying of hypothermia.
With the sheets wrapped around her like a second skin, she shut the window and breathed a sigh of relief. The room was still cold, but it was more bearable now that the portal to the North Pole had been shut. She was reaching for her clothes when the shower started running. Biting her lip, she didn’t have to think it much before she left the sheets behind and walked in the bathroom.
“Katniss?”
The glass door and the mirror were fogged with the steam coming from the shower, so she was out of sight for Peeta. She ran inside the shower and shut the door behind her, only to crash against a sturdy chest.
“Hi,”
“Hello, mademoiselle,” he said from under the stream. “Nice of you to drop by,”
She studied his body up and down and bit her lip, completely satisfied. Johanna would be proud.
“See something you like?”
She shrugged, trying not to smile, and moved under the stream next to him so the hot water heated her cold skin. She sighed in contentment. From the corner of her eye, she saw Peeta doing some studying of his own.
She reached his bottle of shampoo and collected some gel in her hand.
“Come here,” Peeta obeyed and she rubbed the shampoo in his hair until she created suds. She massaged his scalp thoroughly with her fingertips and nails and Peeta shuddered and sighed. His hands rested on her hips and pulled her closer, until their bare chests were pressed together. Her nipples hardened against his chest and she could feel him slowly hardening. It was a moment oddly erotic. It wasn’t sex, but it was just as personal and intimate.
She tilted his head back and let the water rinse out the shampoo from his hair. She helped until all the bubbles had disappeared.
“My turn,” Peeta washed her hair with his shampoo. He tried not to feel like such a caveman for thinking how much he loved the smell of his shampoo on her. That way everyone who smelled her would know she belonged to someone.
Did she, though? Belong to someone? Not really, he answered himself.
That was a talk Katniss was not ready for, and he didn’t want to pressure her. Even if he did love smelling himself on her.
Next, he soaped her skin. Her arms, breast, stomach. When he got to her pubic bone her breath hitched, but he only cleaned her, no more. He kneeled in front of her and did her legs and feet, and she took the soap from him and covered his own body in bubbles. He was hardening even more with every soft pass of her hands over his skin.
He pushed her under the stream once she was done lathering him in soap, and his hands helped the water rinse the bubbles. Once he got to her navel, his hand lowered even more until he reached her lips. His fingers teased her entrance, and Katniss gasped, digging her nails into his biceps.
His thumb rubbed teasingly her clit. Katniss groaned, “Stop teasing,”
He laughed. When she was not only wet from the shower but with her own juices, he inserted a finger and then another one inside of her and she sighed. Her head slumped back against the bathroom tiles, which gave his lips free access to her neck. He wasted no time in reaching for the skin on her neck while his middle finger and thumb continued their assault on Katniss’s pussy.
He fucked her with his fingers, and her nails created yet another masterpiece on his shoulders until she came around his fingers. “God, Peeta!” he removed his fingers and licked her juices off. She tasted incredibly.
Katniss took no time in recovering, and it took him by surprise when she pushed him against the opposite wall and sunk to her knees, eye-level with his rock-hard dick. She started pressing kisses to his skin and his hands tightened around her hair. She took him in her hot mouth, and his world slowed down. Her tongue worked wonders over his skin, while she pumped what her mouth could not reach. He nearly fainted when she pulled away… only to suck his balls and sac into her mouth.
He had been with several girls before who only gave him head as a courtesy for him going down on them, so they weren’t exactly keen on the job. Katniss, on the other hand, blew him like she loved doing it, not because she felt the need to. He was the luckiest bastard in the world, no questions asked.
She went back to sucking and licking his dick, and he tried really hard to keep his thrusts small and gentle, until the exquisite feeling became too much and he felt like he was going to explode. He tried to push her away, but she only held him tighter by the hips, inciting him to come inside her mouth. He couldn’t hold off any longer and blew his load; Katniss swallowed every drop of come and licked her lips after. She gave him a salacious grin and he pulled her up for a kiss.
“Something for you to remember me by while you’re working all day,”
He groaned. “Trust me; last night and this morning’s events will be on my mind all day. I’m not sure if I should handle the ovens at all today unless I want to burn the whole place down,”
Katniss laughed. “Then do stay away from the ovens please.”
He shut the shower. Fortunately, the room was steamy enough so that the cold didn’t stab them right away. He only had one towel, so he wrapped it around Katniss and rubbed her arms up and down to warm her up.
Once she looked drier, he moved his naked ass from outside the shower and took another towel from the cupboard and wrapped himself up in it. He was certainly starting to feel a lot colder now.
They went to his bedroom and Katniss started putting on her (his) pajama again. Considering it was before 5 am she’d for sure go back to sleep.
“Too bad you have you have to go to work,” Katniss said from the edge of his bed while he put his work uniform on. He saw the mischief in her eyes and tried to keep the dirty thoughts away from his head.
“Tell me about it. I’ll be back by 5 though, promise.”
“What are your plans for the day?” he asked Katniss while they made his bed together. He insisted she could stay sleeping in his room even if he wasn’t there, but Katniss said Rye shouldn’t find her in his Dad’s bedroom in the morning. He guessed she was right.
At least not yet, he added in his mind.
“I’m thinking of taking Rye to the mall. If I don’t take him to see Santa today he’ll kill me,”
Peeta snorted. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Try to find out what he wants for Christmas, would you?”
“Sure,”
They finished making the bed in a comfy silence and when it was time to go Katniss walked him to his car. He tried not to hesitate too much before wrapping his arms around her, satisfied when her hands rested on his chest.
“will I be seeing you two at lunch today?”
“Um, I don’t know. Do you want us there?”
“I always want you near me,”
Katniss bit her lip to hold her smile. “Fine, then. I’ll take you lunch. Any preferences?”
“Well, I’d love just to eat you.”
“Peeta!” she laughed and he captured her lips with his. She sighed into his mouth and returned the kiss eagerly.
He was considering calling in sick and staying in bed with Katniss when she pulled away, but her forehead rested against his. “okay, time to go back to the real world.”
He sighed. “Last night meant the world to me. I just hope you know that… and I really hope you don’t regret it because I don’t know what I’d do if you do.”
“I don’t regret it.” She said decidedly and pressed another kiss to his lips. Albeit short, it warmed him from his head down to his toes.
“I’ll see you at noon,” he said and pulled away.
“I’ll see you at noon.”
If they only knew they wouldn’t be seeing each other at noon…
…lol I’m just kidding! No such drama for this story. Btw did you catch the explanation for the missing condoms? It’s subtle and it’s up there.
I hope this was good enough and that you guys like it. I wanted to keep writing something else, but I figured +20k words was more than enough to bore you.
Let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to see. I’m thinking we’ll have one more chapter (for real this time) and an epilogue.
Kisses and hugs to all of you!
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recentanimenews · 7 years
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FEATURE: "Nioh" Review
Not going to lie here, with The Ringed City on the horizon I’m equal parts anticipating and dreading what will likely be the last installment of the Dark Souls franchise. With the end rapidly approaching, many have been on the lookout for a new game to fill the hollow. The Nioh alpha showed promised, providing an even more technical combat system that hit back just as hard and a setting which, though it lacked the gothic grandeur of Dark Souls, called back to some even earlier gaming nostalgia with a dark take on the Sengoku period of Japanese history reminiscent of the famed Onimusha franchise. Those are two very big shoes to fill, but who better to take on the challenge than Team Ninja, the developers behind the infamously difficult Ninja Gaiden? Nioh had a lot going for it and even more to live up to, which is why it’s particularly satisfying to say that the result is good. Really good.
First, the story. You play as William Adams, a real-life English pirate who was stranded in Japan in the 16th century and became an advisor to Tokugawa Ieyasu. Nioh takes some liberties with his story, offering an alternative explanation for how he ended up in Japan. An Osmund Saddler-looking Edward Kelley traps William’s imaginary girlfriend in a soul gem and travels to Japan exploit its vast, untapped soul gem reserves, offering his supernatural aid to the Ishida clan against Ieyasu to foment chaos so his work can go unnoticed. William follows him to Japan and joins forces with Ieyasu as yokai slayer to collect 150 Pokemon and rescue his girlfriend. The conflict of the Sengoku period and the strange supernatural power of the amarita have allowed Yokai to cross into our world, creating a dark take on feudal Japan complete with historic figures each possessing their own spirit guardian which all strangely works together. As William gathers spirit guardians from the members of Ieyasu’s retinue, he experiences visions of their personal experiences and struggles by way shadow puppet-like cinematics paired with emotional monologues packed with personality and a satisfying departure from the typical pre-rendered interludes.
If you're looking for high-stakes combat to scratch that Dark Souls itch, then Nioh delivers with a similar gameplay style packed with new mechanics that give it a distinct personality. The same dynamic of speed vs strength and armor apply, although the game seems to reward different modes of defense against different enemy types. Although dodging is always viable, you can get a lot of mileage out of blocking, parrying, and counter attacking against human opponents where ogres will just break your defense and instantly smash you. Nioh also uses a rhythm game-like mechanic called ki-bursting to instantly recover stamina by hitting R1 just as the dispersed energy from your attack gathers around you, which is very rewarding to do but difficult to describe. Timing this mechanic perfectly allows you to purifying miasma-like areas of yokai corruption that prevent your stamina recovery and, after one of several necessary upgrades to your skill tree, temporarily increases your damage. Finally, each weapon can be used in one of three stances; high, medium, and low stance that emphasize offense, defense, and speed respectively. The result is lightning fast combat composed of last-second dodging, ki-bursting, and dynamic weapon and stance shifting that achieves the careful balance of making you feel godlike when you execute it flawlessly and causes you to yell loudly enough to wake up your housemates when you get caught.
Probably the single most impressive part of the Nioh’s combat, however, is just how viable everything each and every strategy can be. Each weapon has its own definable strengths and weaknesses which, along with their multiple stances, can lend themselves to multiple play styles. I personally tried out three builds, going with a traditional armored, katana-wielding “heart” build, one with dexterity using a kusarigama and ninjutsu, and another relying on onyomi magic and spirit guide power. Each was fun, viable, and had its own individual challenges. Ninjutsu gives you a number of supplementary equipment you restock at every save point including poison, shuriken, caltrops, and bombs which you can use to pick off enemies without exposing yourself and use to chunk down harder monsters. Onyomi gives you magic seals and spells which are similarly replenished, which you can strategically use to exploit elemental weaknesses in enemies while using living weapon to summon your spirit guide serves as a good all-purpose nuke. Even ranged weapons have been improved upon with bows and rifles both invaluable tools with specific uses (silence vs armor penetration) that actually kill enemies with a headshot. The only sticking point is many skills and abilities require passing certain missions before they’re unlocked. This may have been to prevent players from dumping all their experience into a single attribute, but just feels like red tape.
Most satisfyingly, the game brings that same difficulty and rewards as From Software’s flagship. Nioh tries to catch you in all the same ways Dark Souls does, using inventive ambushes and unpleasant environmental interactions to keep you paranoid. Unless you’re building yourself heavy armor, getting caught by anything but a glancing blow can mean instant death, either by simply being one-shot or stunlocked into a combo that does the same deed. Strong human opponents have all the same tricks you do, so you can expect ninjas to pepper you with poisoned shuriken while keeping out of reach and samurai try to break your guard then force you to watch helplessly as they coup de grâce you and flick your lifeless body off their sword. Larger yokai and bosses give the same impression of invincibility that requires trial and error, along with a few deaths, to finally see through. Levels are odd labyrinths that loop back on each other, creating shortcuts and connecting back with save points regularly. Nioh makes use of a similar, if more forgiving, version of the soul return system. When you’re killed, your guardian spirit stays behind and watches over your precious experience points. You have to make your way back to collect them or lose the xp forever if you die again without retrieving them.
In this environment of millions of build combinations, the biggest flaw of the game may be the sheer variety of possibilities available to you. Nioh uses an NRG-based system for equipment drops any MMORPG player should be familiar with, providing equipment of a level and type depending upon the environment you’re navigating with randomized stats and special attributes based on the rarity level of the weapon or armor. A complex system of soulbinding, dismantling, and reforging can let you upgrade these weapons, swap their traits, and create new ones to optimize for the specific stats you desire. While this in and of itself is fine, the drawback comes from the sheer quantity of the item drops. By the time you finish a level, you may have anywhere from 50-100 new pieces of equipment which are largely useless to you except as materials. Additionally, extra weapon abilities are unlocked through an equipment experience stat called Familiarity but you’ll often find you have one or two better weapons available by the time you’ve maxed one out. The result is you spending a ton of time navigating item menus that start to look and feel a lot like managing your email inbox.
Not all of you may be playing this game with Dark Souls is mind but, rest assured, Nioh stands well on its own merits. It’s difficult not to see the influences of both Ninja Gaiden and Dark Souls in the title, but there are plenty fresh mechanics that really give Nioh its own identity. The world is impressively presented in every respect. The environments don’t have the hallway-like feeling endemic among Japanese titles and the story and cinematics  great deal more like an excuse for a alternate history hack n’ slash. Whether and standalone title or the start of a new franchise, Nioh demonstrated that there is definitely room for more titles and innovation in its niche.
REVIEW ROUND-UP
+ High-speed technical combat system
+ Beautiful world and environments
+ Surprisingly good story with stylistic cutscenes
+ Satisfying difficulty and diverse enemies
+/- Great skills system with strange roadblocks
+/- Variety of equipment but painful inventory management
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Peter Fobian is an Associate Features Editor for Crunchyroll and author of Monthly Mangaka Spotlight. You can follow him on Twitter at @PeterFobian.
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mrsteveecook · 5 years
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my coworkers won’t come to my meetings, ankle-length hair at work, and more
It’s five answers to five questions. Here we go…
1. I can’t get my coworkers to read my updates or come to my meetings
I am interning in an office for the next three months, and have been tasked with leading a project. The result of this project will be launched several months after my internship has concluded, so my fellow project team members will take it over once I leave.
My issue is that I don’t think my coworkers are as concerned about this project as I am. To give a few examples, I send weekly updates via email that no one reads and I schedule meetings that team members skip without notice beforehand or acknowledgement after. When we have work to be completed, I’ll ask my team members to choose which portions they want to work on, and one particular team member just doesn’t follow through, even after I get our shared supervisor involved.
I don’t know how to address these issues. I’m an intern and have little clout in this organization. The only method I have of holding team members accountable is reminding them repeatedly of deadlines, letting them miss the deadline, and notifying the supervisor if the missed deadline seriously impacts our work. I feel like I want to stop working so hard to keep them up-to-date if they don’t care about this launch as much as I do. I have a sneaking suspicion that once I leave, they’re going to let this project fall through the cracks, but that will not be my problem. How should I continue to address these issues until my internship ends in the next few months?
Well, it’s possible that they’re actually prioritizing correctly — they may have work that takes precedence over this project, and that’s why they’re not invested. And they might not actually need the weekly updates or the meetings. Or maybe they really are supposed to be more involved, and they’re shirking their responsibilities. If that’s the case, that’s not something you have the power to change on your own; you’d need your boss to handle that.
Either way, the best thing to do here is to talk to your boss. Explain what’s going on and ask her if you’re expecting more involvement from people than you should, or whether you do actually need them reading updates/attending meetings/doing pieces of the work. If it’s the latter, then say this: “I’ve tried talking with people about this quite a bit, and I think it’s at the point where they’ll need to hear it from you, since I don’t have the authority on my own. Could you talk with people about how you need them to be involved?” And if that doesn’t solve it, then go back to your boss and just loop her in — as in, “I wanted to let you know that I’m having trouble getting ___ from people. So I’m doing X, Y, and Z, but I want to make sure you know those other pieces may not be finished by the time I leave unless Jane and Fergus have time for them.”
Beyond that, though, I’d definitely look at ways to streamline what you’re expecting from people. Unless your boss says otherwise, it might be that weekly updates aren’t necessary, and maybe the meetings aren’t either. When people are busy, it’s often the case that if you ask for less of their time, you’ll get it more reliably. (And if this is your one big project while they’re juggling a bunch of things, it’s understandable that you’re more focused on it than they are.)
2. Will almost-floor-length hair hold me back professionally?
I have very long hair (almost floor-length when it’s down, and I keep it that length just because I like it, not out of any religious or cultural obligation). I always wear it in a conservative updo that hides the length during interviews and for the first few weeks of job-related situations because I don’t want it to be the first thing people notice when they meet me in a professional context, but it’s much easier and more comfortable for me to wear it in a braid.
Do you think letting on that I have this unusual hairstyle is something that’s going to hold me back career-wise? I love it, but it’s pretty far outside of the norm and tends to provoke a lot of questions and comments, and I would hate to have people make assumptions about me or be distracted from the quality of my work. So should I suck it up and wear it in updos at work forever, or can I sometimes go full-on Tangled at work and wear it in ways where it’s visible?
If you’re awesome at what you do, almost-floor-length hair isn’t going to hold you back. But it’s definitely unusual enough that you’re likely to become known as The Person with the Floor-Length Hair and some people will find it odd. You might be totally fine with that, but there’s also an argument for not wanting people at work to be thinking about your hair at all. It’s up to you where you come down on that.
3. Using sick days for vacation time
I started at a company in July that has a fairly generous PTO program (three weeks vacation, four employee-designated holidays, 10 sick days). I am of the mindset that sick days are for when you are too ill to come to work and/or need a mental health day. The only time I’ve ever pre-scheduled sick time is when I’ve had a medical appointment or a medical procedure scheduled in advance.
I was approached by a new hire who is fresh out of college, whose mother works in HR at another company. She advised him that when taking time off, in general, to use sick days and employee-designated holidays first, since they don’t carry over from year to year, then dip into vacation. He mentioned that he plans on taking the one employee designated holiday and the two sick days he has for this year at Christmas since he has to travel to see his family.
I encouraged him to talk to his manager and get his input, but I’m wondering how I should have advised him as a colleague with slightly more time with the company and more life experience (I suspect I’m old enough to be his mother – eek!). Am I being too strict in how I think of using sick days? We have the ability to work from home, so I typically use them when I am at death’s door or just mentally exhausted (I’m bipolar II with generalized anxiety disorder, so I consider it a public service taking a day off when I feel a depressive cycle coming on).
Nope, the way you described this working is how it works at most companies. Sick days and vacation days aren’t interchangeable; that’s why they’re not in one pot. They’re a safety net to be used for when you really need them, which is part of why they don’t roll over.
Your company almost definitely doesn’t intend for sick days to be used for pre-scheduled vacation, so you were absolutely right to encourage him to talk to his manager about it. If you’d wanted, it also would have been fine to just say bluntly, “That’s never been the case anywhere I’ve worked, and in some companies you’d get in trouble for using sick days that way so you should definitely talk to your boss before you do it.”
4. My manager scratches his butt before high-fiving us
I am a supervisor for a retail store and work with a sales manager who is very big on high-fives as motivation. However, I have seen him many times scratch his butt and then go to high-five someone. If it was a one-off scratching a small itch, that would be one thing but it’s happened many times and it’s a full-on scratch (leg straight and into the crack scratch). The first time he tried to high-five me after I saw this, I hugged my hands to my chest and said I have a germaphobia about high-fives and getting sick. I do have a slight germaphobia (12 years in retail will do that) so it’s not a full-on lie, but the issue is now when my staff do something I can’t high-five them without him noticing. Is there another way to deal with this?
Do you have the kind of relationship where you could just be straightforward? As in, “I saw where your hand just was! No thanks.”
If not, then you’re going to have to stick with the germaphobia story, which you’ve already put out there anywhere. And yeah, that means you can’t high-five others.
But also, why is he prefacing all his high-fives with a butt scratch? This is weird indeed.
5. My boss wants two months notice
I work in a very small office where I am the office manager, in-house biller/accounts receivable manager, technical producer for our in-house podcast, head of volunteers and interns, HR manager, etc. As you can tell, I wear almost every hat in my current company. Because of this, I am worried about pulling away from this role, leaving such a large gap to fill. My boss and I have discussed it briefly when we had our yearly review meeting where I requested a raise (as I was originally hired on as an office manager only several years ago) on the basis of maintaining at least six different positions, more than enough for just one person. My boss explained that he was fine with me looking for another job if I was unhappy with what I was being paid, but I would have to give two months notice to find someone as “specialized” as myself. I know he is worried that no one will agree to six different people’s jobs with the mediocre pay, and he’ll end up needing to hire more than one person to fill my position, which I get the feeling he is trying to avoid. And while he said he was fine with me looking, it was delivered very passive aggressively and ended with, “Good luck finding a job that pays you as much as me,” along with a whole slew of other rude remarks.
If I manage to get a job offer, how do I (1) tell my boss that two months notice is too long for a job to hold a position for me and (2) either convince someone to take on six different roles with very little pay, or convince my boss to break up my role into several roles?
You can certainly suggest to your boss that he break the job up into several roles, but you don’t need to convince him, and you don’t need to convince someone to take on the job for little pay. None of this will be your problem; it’s your boss’s, and you don’t need to solve it for him because it’s not your responsibility to that and it won’t affect you any longer.
As for the amount of notice you give: It’s ridiculous for him to expect two months notice. When you resign, give the standard two weeks and if he objects you can say, “They need me to start in two weeks and don’t have any flexibility.” If he reminds you that he asked for two months, you can say, “I didn’t think you were serious about that, since two weeks is standard and there’s no way they’d hold the job for me that long.” And if he’s really obnoxious about it, remind him that he suggested you look for another job if you wanted to be paid more.
You may also like:
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my boss is constantly texting and emailing during meetings
my coworkers won’t come to my meetings, ankle-length hair at work, and more was originally published by Alison Green on Ask a Manager.
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