Peeta Mellark X Reader - Tumblr Posts

★Peeta Mellark Headcanons★

𖦹 Warnings: Mentions of the orange peel theory so maybe look it up if you don’t know what that is, nothing else this man could do no wrong

⋆｡°‧Requests are open! Comments and reblogs are welcome and appreciated♡

―୨୧⋆ ˚A/N: this is incredibly short but i had to get it out of my system i miss peeta its been rotting my brain, also i promise I’ll get to my requests eventually :p

This has not been proofread ^_^

Peeta who can’t keep his hands off you. Not necessarily in a sexual manner, he’s just simply yearning for your reassurance and the comfort of your presence. Weather it’s locking pinkies together while you walk alongside each other or simply playing with your hair while you sleep

Peeta who would do absolutely anything for you. That orange peeling trend on tiktok is kinda what made me want to write this because omg??? He heard you complain once about how sticky your hands get when you peel them and he hasn’t let you peel yourself one since. That man would run into a house fire just to get you that orange. He’d plant his own orange tree, tending and caring for it just for you if he could

Peeta who never comes home without brining you some kind of gift. If he’s in town and finds a small trinket he thinks you’ll like, you bet he’s getting it for you. Picking flowers on his way home simply because they’re your favorite color and picking up a small rock because it was kinda shaped like a heart, anything he thought you’d like he’d get for you in a heartbeat

Peeta who enjoys your presence no matter what you’re doing together. You could be quietly reading a book and he’d lay on the opposite side of the bed just admiring you as your eyes are glued to the page. Completely oblivious to his gaze on you, his eyes reflecting appreciation and fondness with every lingering look

Peeta who loves seeing you in his clothes. He’s coming home after working on the garden you guys started together and can’t help but just beam at the sight of you cooking in one of his t-shirts. You’d wake up missing him a bit more than usual that morning and start looking for anything of his, smiling fondly at his familiar scent as you slip on his t-shirt and begin your day

Peeta who always brings you back a small treat from the bakery, weather it’s your favorite bread or a cupcake decorated especially for you with small hearts and smiley faces, he always makes sure to never come home empty handed

masterlist !

MIKE SCHMIDT ⋆｡°‧

olderbf!mike schmidt HCs

mike schmidt comforting you HCs

mike showing you his admiration and appreciation blurb (fluff)

PEETA MELLARK ⋆｡°‧

peeta mellark general HCs

ETHAN LANDRY ⋆｡°‧

stalker!ethan HCs

jealous boy smut

BILLY LOOMIS ⋆｡°‧

billy loomis general HCs

billy loomis x bimbo readers HCs

STU MACHER ⋆｡°‧

stu macher general HCs

stu macher x bimbo reader HCs

―୨୧⋆ ˚ welcome !

hi! my name is rosie, i go by she/her prns and i like to write ! i mostly write for josh hutcherson characters but im willing to branch out if you ask and i’m familiar with the character<3 i love getting dms from new friends and moots so dont be afraid to interact !!! pls be aware that i do write some nsfw from time to time.

requests/blog guidelines !⁀➷  

things i will NOT write: ddlg/sexual age regression, scat, water sports, somnophilia, cnc, pet play

things i will write about: basically anything else that’s not mentioned above, feel free to send anything else that’s not listed, worst case scenario is that i simply wont respond ^_^

requests are open !!

masterlist

-Peeta Mellark x reader

{You and Peeta bake… more or less}

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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y’all ever fantasize about a fictional character a little too hard to the point you’re convinced you should be admitted to a mental hospital?

They Don’t Know About Us

Peeta Mellark x Reader

TW: Regular Hunger Games angst, Coriolanus Snow being a douche, semi-sweet fluff. Let me know if I missed anything!

(This is based on the song “They Don’t Know About Us” by One Direction if you’d like to listen while reading 🤍)

✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩

Winning the Hunger Games was never something the children of the lower Districts were prepared for. All their lives, they watched as the Careers won countless times, with the occasional lower District pulling out a victory. When Y/N L/N was reaped for the 73rd Hunger Games at a mere fourteen years old, she never imagined she’d be the one to emerge victorious. The only other individual who won that young was Finnick Odair from District Four, who had become a rather close friend of the now sixteen year old from District Nine.

During her games, Y/N was assumed to be the weakest link. She was easily underestimated by the other Tributes, until the individual evaluation scores came back.

An eleven.

After that, she had a rather large target on her back. Not that it mattered. At fourteen years old, she killed twelve Tributes on her own. No alliances, no sponsor gifts, absolutely nothing. Just her sickle and a belt of daggers wrapped around her waist to get her to victory.

She truly thought that was the end of it. The moment she stepped out of the arena, leg broken, blood profusely cascading down her face from the cut on her forehead, she thought it was over. But she was so wrong. She had no idea what was in store for her when she stepped foot back into the Capitol.

Unbeknownst to her, she was and remains a fan favorite to this day. The people of the Capitol adored her. They love her snarky remarks yet cherish her innocent eyes when she bats her lashes on stage. They love the way she dances at the parties the Capitol throws, and how polite she is when someone offers her a drink. She didn’t realize escaping those games would mean being stuck in another cage. Snow’s cage to be exact.

He kept her under surveillance quite often. Never let her stray too far from him. She was special. He knew that the second he watched her impale someone with her sickle in the original bloodbath. He knew when he watched how graceful she moved walking on stage for her interview with Caesar. And it was all confirmed for him when he watched her dancing with such fluidity during her Victors tour that he knew he had to keep her close. She had a certain power, a way to make audiences listen to her. And at such a young age, that’s too much of a threat.

Y/N spent most of her time in the Capitol, rarely being able to visit home. She tried to fight it in the beginning, but once Snow threatened her family, she knew better than to defy him. So she tried her hardest to find a home in the place that took advantage of her and stole her innocence.

It wasn’t all bad being stuck. She met many people, older Victors who helped her adjust since her winnings. Finnick Odair and Johanna Mason have been particularly helpful. Finnick is around much more than Johanna and he’s taken on a brotherly figure in her life, protecting her from the rotten slime of the Capitol. He felt for the young girl. She won at the same age he did and managed to obtain the highest amount of kills out of any Tribute. Simply observing her, he knew that she would be haunted by her Games for the rest of her life. She might’ve got out of the arena, but she never won. None of them did.

Whenever she would wake up screaming from a nightmare, he was there. He would sit with her until she fell asleep, humming soft sea shanty’s for her.

They got stuck in a pattern for awhile. One that they didn’t necessarily like, but that they got used to. At least until the 74th Hunger Games ended. Y/N’s Tributes didn’t last very long. They made it further than some, but not far enough to be noticeable. Finnick could tell that the girl purposefully didn’t mentor the best way she could’ve so the children didn’t have to face the fate of a Victor. He didn’t blame her. Most of the other mentors are the same way. But when Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark both were crowned Victors, something in Y/N shifted.

It wasn’t in the way that most would think. Yes, she shifted in the aspect that the tables of power seem to be turning, but she suddenly appeared happier. He noticed her being absent more, disappearing from her room late at night, and even being more secretive about who she speaks to. He didn’t know what caused the shift until the 74th Games’ Victory tour. The moment he walked into their party in the President’s mansion, he saw what caused the change.

Y/N stands by one of the many large pillars of the mansion, hiding behind the marble structure. She giggles under her breath as she watches Peeta try his hardest to look around discretely. He has no idea that she’s looking right at him. She furrows her eyebrows, losing him in the large sea of people that are all there for him and Katniss. A small frown makes its way onto her face until a pair of strong hands grips her hips softly.

She lets out a quiet yelp before spinning around. She smiles when Peeta’s honey brown eyes meet hers and a cheeky little smile takes over his face. “Hi,” she greets shyly.

“Hi,” he replies, finding the light pink dusting on her cheeks adorable. He pulls her gently to hide them a little more in the shadows. There’s too many people here who wouldn’t be thrilled seeing the two of them together in this proximity. Especially since he is supposedly married to Katniss.

“How are you enjoying the party?” She asks quietly, resting her hands on his chest with a teasing smile.

“It’s a bit underwhelming,” he comments sarcastically, glancing around the area with a high level of distaste.

“You can say it’s appalling,” Y/N assures him. “People are starving in the Districts and here they don’t even bother finishing their plates.” She can see the cogs turning in his brain. Ever since she’s met him, she’s admired how big his heart is. If he could save every individual in the Districts, he would. But the last thing they need is to draw unwanted attention to themselves getting worked up over something they can’t currently control. She sighs, shaking off the agitation before cupping the side of his face. “Hey, it’s alright. Nobody said you have to enjoy tonight.”

“Are you enjoying it?” He queries.

She shakes her head, “Never in a million years.” A cocky grin takes over her face as she stands on her tippy toes to get closer to him, “I am enjoying your company though.”

Her answer makes him smirk as well before he places a small kiss on her lips. Peeta cherishes every moment he gets to spend with Y/N as most of their time together is fleeting. They can only be together for mere minutes at a time in order to avoid suspicion. The only two people who know about their dalliance are Haymitch and Katniss, who have been supportive in their own creative ways. They try their hardest to give the young couple more time together, but it gets rather difficult when Peeta and Katniss need to be seen together all the time.

In order to make up for the time that they lose, Peeta and Y/N create their own ways to display their affections. Sometimes it entails slipping love notes in one another’s pockets in passing, pulling each other behind large structures to sneak in a kiss, leaving their rooms in the middle of the night to meet in a dark alleyway just to have some time to themselves.

Neither of them minded it. It was thrilling almost to know that nobody knew about them. Sneaking behind Snow’s back gave them both a sense of freedom that they thought they’d never get back. Peeta sighs happily as he rests his head against hers. Y/N rubs the pad of her thumb on the back of his hand, “When do you have to leave?” She asks him in a whisper.

The smile on his face falls, “Tomorrow morning,” he answers. “With the 75th reaping coming up, Katniss and I have to be back in Twelve.”

She nods in understanding, “Then I guess we’ll just have to make the most of tonight.” Her smile is solemn, but she knows better than to make him feel bad for their lack of time. She won’t be leaving the Capitol for another two days. Snow is only allowing her to return home solely for the Reaping.

“That we will,” Peeta smirks. He plays with a loose strand of her hair, twirling it between his fingers. “Meet me tonight at our spot?”

“Always.”

And she did just that. About four hours after the party ends, Y/N manages to sneak out of her suite. She uses her stealth to make it all the way up to the roof without alerting any nearby Peacekeepers of her late night rendezvous with the Baker Boy from Twelve. She slowly pushes open the heavy door that leads outside and she gently slides it closed. Clearly her silence is rather impressive as Peeta, who is standing at the ledge of the building, didn’t hear her coming up behind him.

She smiles before walking forward and wrapping her hands around his eyes, “Guess who?”

Peeta tenses at first, not expecting his sight to be impaired, but he’s quick to relax when he recognizes Y/N’s voice. “Well I can happily say it’s not Haymitch,” he tells her jokingly.

Y/N chuckles, allowing him to turn around as their lips meet in a sweet embrace. She wraps her arms around his neck, her fingers fiddling with his soft blonde hair. He wasn’t kidding in his interview with Caesar before his Games. He really does smell like roses, and maybe a hint of cinnamon and other sweet spices from his time spent in the bakery.

Peeta casually lifts her up by her thighs, setting her down on the ledge of the roof so she can sit. He cages her in with his muscular arms, simply admiring how the moonlight makes her skin glow. The stars in the sky could never compare to the way her eyes constantly shine. He knows that she would never be able to see the beauty he sees. Her damage prevents her from seeing the wonderful things he sees, but he has no issue showing it to her. He would gladly spend the rest of his life showing Y/N all the things that make her the stunning woman she is.

“What?” Y/N questions, blushing slightly from him staring at her for so long. “Do I got something in my teeth?” A dopey smile covers her face at her attempt to joke.

“I’m just looking at the most beautiful woman in Panem,” he answers simply with a shrug. That’s all.”

Y/N giggles, “Don’t you know, Mister Mellark?” She laces her hands with his, “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

It was moments like this, holding her in his arms where Peeta momentarily forgets of their circumstances. He forgets that they’re under the control of tyrannical dictator who could easily torture them and their family for their forbidden romance. Staring into her sparkling e/c eyes, it made him realize that there has to be more than this. There has to be more for them somewhere. Where they can be together without worrying about being executed. That’s when Katniss’s words echo in his mind.

“Run away with me,” he blurts out.

Y/N’s eyes go wide, “What?” She asks incredulously, not believing what she’s hearing.

“C’mon Y/N,” he begs with a sweet desperation. “Think about it. If we left now, no one would know. We could run away somewhere, away from here. We could be happy.”

His words sound more than enticing. She wants to, more than anything. But leaving her family to face the consequences of those actions is out of the question. Her realism prevents her from even dreaming of such a possibility. She knows they wouldn’t even make it to the entrance of the Capitol before being shot down by Peacekeepers.

“Peeta…” Y/N says softly, her tone already giving away her answer. “You know we can’t do that. They’d find us in a week,” she frowns as she watches the light behind his eyes dim.

Disappointment radiates around them. Y/N loves his determination to get them the life together that they want. The two teens never thought they’d meet someone they’d connect with so deeply. They don’t even know the jealousy they invoke from the very few people who do know about them. The romance they share is something everyone would covet, even though it has to be hidden.

The blonde sighs defeatedly. She’s right. Even if they did somehow miraculously get out of the Capitol unseen, they’d still have the issue of finding where to run to. “I know,” he admits quietly. “But it doesn’t hurt to think about. Just you and me in an abandoned cabin, far away from all of this.”

Y/N squeezes his bicep with a sad smile, “Maybe someday.” Hope is a dangerous thing for people in Panem, especially false hope. Staring into his eyes, she almost believes that it could be possible. Perhaps she does deserve that happy ending despite the atrocities she’s committed.

The couple simply spends the next few hours in each others arms. They exchange stories of their homes, their families, the hobbies that distract them from the life they live. Y/N can’t wait to bake with Peeta one day. The way his eyes light up when he talks about being in the kitchen, it makes her wish she had taken up the art sooner. Peeta on the other hand is always entranced when she talks to him about her passion for dancing. He’s seen her on the dance floor a couple of times and he can see how much she truly loves it. It transports her to another world.

Y/N even takes it upon herself to show him a simple waltz on that rooftop. The two break into a fit of giggles every time Peeta accidentally steps on her toes or when he gets too focused and his tongue subconsciously pokes out of his mouth. Even though it’s been a few hours, it still doesn’t feel long enough. They continue to talk about meaningless nothings, but as soon as the sun rises from its long slumber, they know their time has come to an end.

“I don’t want you to go,” Y/N mumbles, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. His grip on her waist is tight as he holds her as close to him as she can.

“I don’t want to go either,” he whispers, kissing her temple. “But it’s not for forever, okay? We’ll see each other soon. I promise.”

And how right he was. But he was right in a way that made both him and Y/N sick to their stomachs. When he promised her they’d see each other again, she didn’t think it would be under the circumstances of them both being reaped for the 75th Hunger Games.

Y/N seethed with anger the moment she heard the words leave Snow’s mouth. She had gotten home only moments before the announcement, and as soon as he walked into her large house in the Victors Village, that is what she was met with.

There aren’t many other Victors in District Nine, and she’s well aware that none of them hold as high of a reputation as her. So deep down, she knew her name would be the one called. She would be forced right back into the place that made her a monster in the first place. Sixteen years old and she’s now been reaped twice. Looking at her Tribute partner on that stage, she knew she’d be able to take him. He’s older, no doubt his reflexes have been impaired due to lack of time training. Her only having won two years ago gives her a certain edge, and not too be blunt, but her young age comes with its perks as well.

When they arrived at the Capitol, her and her Tribute partner are briefed on the other Tributes who were reaped. Her stomach twists in knots as she watches Finnick’s face flash across the screen. He’s basically her older brother and now they have to fight to the death. She bites her bottom lip anxiously as their “mentor” continues to show them their opponents. Y/N bites her lip anxiously as he moves onto the District Twelve Tributes. She knows Katniss doesn’t have a choice as she is the only female Victor, but she hopes with every fiber of her being that Haymitch is the person she sees next on that screen.

Peeta Mellark.

Her heart shatters into a million pieces. At that moment, Y/N told herself she would do anything to get him out. She would kill whoever it takes and even sacrifice her own life to make sure Peeta survives. He has too pure of a soul to be put back into the arena, but the odds never seem to be quite in his favor. Or any of their favors for that matter. Her fists are clenched so tightly that they’ve turned pale. An intimidating frown etches its way onto her face as they’re released to their stylists to be prepared for the Tribute Parade.

Being from District Nine, she wasn’t expecting much. The stylist she had during her games practically put her in a burlap sack with pieces of wheat in her hair and called it good. She’s escorted down the hallway, but becomes increasingly confused as two Peacekeepers emerge from both sides of her.

“Miss L/N, come with us. The President has requested your presence,” the taller of the two guards announces.

She furrows her eyebrows. What would Snow want with her only a few hours before the Parade? She’s used to being summoned to see the President due to him keeping her on such a tight leash, but she wasn’t expecting a call from him during the preparation process.

They stop at a wooden door, covered in a dark burgundy paint. There’s a small golden snake that rests in the center, serving as a way to knock on the door. The Peacekeeper to her right utilizes the tool and a small “come in” is muttered by their dear leader. The second Y/N’s foot makes it through the door, she feels the need to vomit. The venomous smile on the man’s face is enough to make her question the decision she made to try and survive the arena the first time.

“Miss L/N,” he greets, “Please, take a seat.”

Knowing better than to fight the titan in front of her, she slowly inches down into the armchair in front of his desk. He retains his smile, his gaze never leaving her form. He folds his hands together and rests them on the desk, “How unfortunate we have to meet again under such pitiful circumstances.”

She swallows thickly, “Yes, I suppose it is quite a shame.” Her voice is as polite as she can make it. Her posture is rigid and her tone is ice cold. Something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the man in front of her, but he does appreciate her effort to save face.

“Miss L/N, are you aware of why I have called you here?” He asks as if he was a teacher trying to teach a lesson. Y/N knows there’s something much more sinister going on, but she finds herself becoming too afraid to know what it could be.

“No,” she replies shortly.

He lifts an eyebrow in amusement. A small, almost disappointed sigh escapes his lips as he fiddles with one of the many white roses in the vase on his desk. “Perhaps a visual aid will help you understand why I’ve requested your presence.”

He presses the button on the hologram sitting at the center of his desk and Y/N’s breath hitches in her throat as an image of her and Peeta kissing on the rooftop flashes in front of her. Her jaw falls slack. She thought they were careful. There had been no cameras the previous times they’ve met there. No Peacekeepers were around. It made no sense. He wasn’t supposed to know.

Dread fills her entire body. She had been gone from Nine since yesterday. He could’ve easily slaughtered her entire family in that amount of time. Was this why she was reaped? What if he tries to kill Peeta specifically in the arena because of this?

“Relax, my dear,” Snow’s smug expression makes her blood boil. He flicks of the projection before focusing fully on the girl in front of him. “I understand the appeal of forbidden love. It’s rather exciting, is it not?” Y/N can feel him about to sink his teeth into her soft flesh. She can feel the numerous amount of threats about to leave his lips. “Unfortunately, your love story with Mister Mellark is not apart of the narrative I’ve so carefully curated.” She’s startled by how calm he sounds, but that has always been the unnerving thing about Snow. No one ever knows what truly goes on in his mind as he hides his true intentions behind his politics. “I truly am disappointed that you haven’t been honest with me Miss L/N. I thought we were better than that.”

Y/N’s at a loss for words. She simply stares at the President, digging her nails into the supple flesh of her palms as she tries to hold back the anger bubbling inside of her. “The relationship between Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark is one that inspires hope,” he begins. “It distracts the people of Panem, keeps the system in balance. Our citizens have fallen in love with their love. They follow their story. The last thing we need is a scandal, wouldn’t you agree?”

Her eyes are steely as she grits her teeth, “Yes sir.”

“The star-crossed lovers will not be interfered with,” he instructs. “And if I find that you’ve continued this dalliance, I am well accustomed to finding a suitor for you myself. Perhaps through the same methods of your dear friend Finnick Odair?”

There it is. The threat she was waiting for. She knows all about Snow and how he sells the Victors deemed desirable. He never sold her when she won because she was too precious too him. Her talent for dancing and kind persona are what kept him from selling her off to the highest bidder. He figured she would be more valuable as an item people could see, but not touch. Clearly he is willing to sacrifice that because of her defiance.

“I don’t believe that will be necessary,” she says, keeping her voice as steady as possible. Anyone listening to this conversation would believe it is as civil as it could get, but the look behind both of their eyes suggests a silent duel is going on between the two. Neither of them blink as a satisfied smile appears on Snow’s face. “Whatever you saw, it won’t happen again.

“Good,” he nods approvingly. “I knew I could count on you to be sensible.”

Y/N stands without another word. She dusts herself off as the Peacekeepers open the door for her. As soon as she’s rounded the corner to head to her stylist, that’s when the tears start cascading down her cheeks. She puts a hand over mouth to muffle her sobs as she sinks down onto the floor. She should’ve known that their secret wouldn’t have stayed that way for long. Snow always has a way of finding things out, and now she’s not only out her life in jeopardy, but Peeta’s as well.

That’s when she realizes that he doesn’t even know what just happened. She squeezes her eyes tightly in pain, knowing that she’ll have to end things with the only person who’s managed to make her feel whole again after emerging from the arena. Picturing the heartbreak on his face is enough to make her want to beg someone to kill her in the bloodbath. But she won’t. She can’t. She made a vow to herself that she would protect Peeta, keep him safe. Even if they can’t be together, she won’t let him die.

Her tears dry and a certain determination fuels her to keep moving. She wipes her face and forgets all of her emotions on the floor she just left. There’s no use in mourning. She needs to be in the correct headspace if she’s going to get him out.

And she will.

————————————————————————

Pt. 2 anyone?

Masterlist ;)

*= smut

The Hunger Games

Imagines

Finnick Odair

Wasting All These Tears On You

Peeta Mellark

They Don't Know About Us

Katniss Everdeen

Johanna Mason

Haymitch Abernathy

Cato Hadley

Marvel Sanford

Clove Kent

Coriolanus Snow

Sejanus Plinth

Series

none yet :(

Teen Wolf

Imagines

Scott McCall

Stiles Stilinski

Derek Hale

Jealousy, Jealousy

Peter Hale

Chris Argent

Lydia Martin

Issac Lahey

Allison Argent

Malia Hale/Tate

Liam Dunbar

Kira Yukimara

Series

Lupus Nox- S1 Cast, Prologue, S1 E1, S1 E2, S1 E3, S1 E4, S1 E5, S1 E6, S1 E7,

The Maze Runner

Imagines

Thomas

Newt

Minho

Gally

Aris

Brenda

Sonya

Harriet

Series

none yet :(

Marvel

Imagines

Steve Rogers

Tony Stark

Bucky Barnes

Loki Laufeyson

Natasha Romanoff

Clint Barton

Logan Howlett

Peter Quill

Gamora Ben Titan

Peter Parker

Peter Parker (TASM)

Thor Odinson

Michelle Jones-Watson

Wanda Maximoff

Pietro Maximoff

Series

none yet :(

Once Upon A Time

Imagines

Regina Mills

Emma Swan

Killian Jones

David Nolan/Prince Charming

Peter Pan

Rumplestiltskin

Neal Cassidy/Baelfire

Series

none yet :(

Bridgerton

Imagines

Anthony Bridgerton

How To Be A Heartbreaker

Colin Bridgerton

Benedict Bridgerton

King George

Simon Bassett

Eloise Bridgerton

Series

none yet :(

Harry Potter

Imagines

Harry Potter

Ron Weasley

Hermoine Granger

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Remus Lupin

Sirius Black

James Potter

Draco Malfoy

Lucius Malfoy

Tom Riddle

Luna Lovegood

Bellatrix Lestrange

Series

none yet :(

Glee

Imagines

Finn Hudson

Sam Evans

Jesse St. James

Quinn Fabray

Santana Lopez

Brittany S. Pierce

Rachel Berry

Mercedes Jones

Mike Chang

Noah Puckerman

Series

none yet :(

Criminal Minds

Imagines

Aaron Hotchner

Undercover Heat

Spencer Reid

Derek Morgan

No Place Like Home

Emily Prentiss

Jennifer Jareau

Matthew Simmons

Luke Alves

Kate Callahan

Series

none yet :(

9-1-1

Imagines

Evan 'Buck" Buckley

Eddie Diaz

Bobby Nash

Athena Grant

Howard 'Chimney' Han

Maddie Buckley

Series

none yet :(

Gossip Girl

Imagines

Chuck Bass

Nate Archibald

Dan Humphrey

Serena Van Der Woodsen

Blair Waldorf

Carter Baizen

Series

none yet :(

Pitch Perfect

Imagines

Jesse Swanson

The Flirting Game

Beca Mitchell

Chloe Beale

Bumper Allen

Cynthia Rose

Benji Applebaum

Donald Walsh

Fat Amy/Patricia Hobart

Series

none yet :(

Miscellaneous

Chandler Bing

New Years Eve

JULY NIGHTS |

It always felt like this.

Like she was alone. But the difference this time was that the room was full of people.

People who came to congratulate her, her and her district partner.

‘Hey have you seen Peeta?’

‘Excuse me? I’m sorry but have you seen the other victor?’

You couldn’t find him, asking every person that was here tonight if they have seen him.

But nothing

She looked up. There were the starts, she wishes

you could see them better.

She climbed the stairs to the roof, it was silent here.

She put her Champagner flute on the ground and sat down, If Effie could see what she’s doing in this dress she’d be dead.

Like all the other tributes, she won. Not fair or square but she did.

‘Hey’ she turned around seeing Peeta

‘Hey, where were you? I’ve searched all over the place’ she said looking at him

‘Oh I met some of the other victors, they quite .. interesting’ he laughed

‘You and the socialising’

‘Someone needs to ’ he sat down next to her also looking at the starts

‘I always wanted to see the start closer.’ She admitted to him

‘They always remind me of home, when picked up things from the field early at day before the sun even rose’

He listens to her voice like it’s a melody, he loved to hear her voice. His dreams have been plagued by her voice since early teenager years

‘When I look at them they remind me of your eyes, they shine so bright with willpower that people just need to believe you’ he said moving a hair that fell in her face behind her ear

She raised her eyebrows and looked at him ‘really?’

He nodded and looked behind her in the horizon, both of them were sure that the other could hear their pulse.

‘Happy July begin my love’ Peeta said in a smooth calm soothing voice

‘Happy July begin to you* she smiled at him. July didn’t have any meaning to the capitol. But at 12 in the first summer night, was special.

It was tradition. The children helped the parents cook, clean or hunt.

After this the whole town met and they ate, danced and sung together like they had no problems in the world.

‘You were always a good dancer’ Y/N joked

‘And you were always stepping on my foot’ he replied

‘Shut up’ she rolled her eyes playfully

‘I miss home’ she looked at him

‘I don’t. Wanna know why?’ She nodded ‘because I’m home where ever you are’ he said in a calm serious tone

‘Charmer.’ She again rolled her eyes, he laughed

‘I’m honest I promise’ he turned his head towards her

‘If I’m not with you I fell homesick, and abandoned. But if I’m with you, the games didn’t even have a meaning for me. They just happend and we killed people’ she looked back at him

‘I love you. Y/N. And I have since we were children, since we run together in the river and making our mothers scared and angry’ she laughed when she remembers the moment

‘I would bring you every star in this universe just so I could call you mine’ he confessed. She teared up

‘I love you too mellark’ she kissed him. She kissed him deeply and passionate.

He kissed back.

If you’d ask them which July night was the best in their lives, it would be easy both would say that, it was the nights in July they spend in district 12

before both of them were picked and thrown into the arena. Before the bombing on 12 or the rebellion. Even before of them being together.

no because nobody around me understands how SAD peeta’s reaping is. he already has a mother who hits him to begin with, and when he gets chosen, he’s looking and waiting for his brothers to volunteer for him. HE HAS TWO BROTHERS. and nobody did.

also happy holidays everybody it’s officially that time of the year because i said so

Clapton Davis HCs

bf!clapton would definitely have nicknames for you. whether it’s a play on your actual name or something like “sweetheart”. like, they’d make you feel so sweet and special, and clapton would definitely revel in that feeling. he loves making you feel happy in his own special, silly way. on the complete other hand, sometimes they’d make you respond in a complete eye-roll and soft punch to his shoulder. either way, he loves whatever reaction you give him.

bf!clapton would totally carry your books for you on your way to class. even if you had a class on the other side of school, he’d gladly be late just so he can see you laugh at his awful attempt of a joke before you walk into the classroom. besides, how would he get through class if he didn’t have an image of your smile in his mind to help him through it?

bf!clapton enjoys the smallest things about you. things that you, yourself don’t even notice. he loves the way you look at a paper when it makes no sense to you. he loves the way you quietly hum the song you knew he loved, just to impress him. it worked. but he didn’t need to know that. he was too busy appreciating the bags under your eyes from your many nights of staying up late. whether it be studying (which he always admired you for), or to just simply mess around, he loved them.

bf!clapton loved how special you made him feel. you never shrugged off how he felt, or his thoughts. you never summed him up to just his worst moments, of which there were many. his favorite example of how you acted around him was how you acted when it was just the two of you. you would bring out this side of yourself that many never got to see, and it made him feel like the happiest dumbass in the world that he was special enough to see the real you.

just like you, bf!clapton feels extremely comfortable around you. he feels like he can let his walls down, and this persona and reputation he’s built at grizzly lake high school. nobody to impress, persuade, or run from. just you, which he’s incredibly thankful for. he doesn’t have to worry about how bad his jokes are, he knows you’ll laugh at them anyway, because he’s pretty sure you love him. and you’re pretty sure he loves you.

these are my first ever published headcanons! there is an upsettingly low amount of clapton davis content, so i really hope you liked them. i’m gonna open requests very soon, so get those requests cooking. ☆

just LOOK AT THIS MAN AND TELL ME HE’S NOT SO FUCKING HOT WHEN HE’S DRENCHED IN WATER

CAN YOU DO CLAPTON PUTTING A TON OF THOUGHT INTO A SUPER CUTE LITTLE GIFT BASKET AND AT THE VERY BOTTOM IT CAN BE LIKE A NOTE OF HIM CONFESSING OR SUM🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

ugh yes i love this request!! hope you won’t mind me adding some holiday spice into it! hope you like it ☆ (borders made by @saradika-graphics)

from me, to you

word count: 1.4k

pairing: clapton davis x gn! reader

warnings: just some light swearing! some absolutely cliché fluffy shit head ❤️

—————

clapton davis had never really celebrated the christmas season. he never hated the holiday, but it was never his favorite. maybe it was the advertising; the loud, bright commercials and ads on the radio. maybe it was the cheesy music. it was the one time he refused to listen to the radio, in fear the start of “all i want for christmas is you” would be playing. or maybe it was the fact he knew he was desperately in love with you, and he did not want to spend the holiday season alone. again. without you.

yeah, you were friends. best friends. his confidant. his partner in crime. but he could never deny that he wanted to take it a step further. scratch that—five steps further.

he could never get over the way your hair flowed on windy days. it wasn’t like those scenes in the movies, but it always made you smile. god, how he loved your smile. but how would we tell you all this? would he tell you all this? today was december twentieth. which means it’s not only five days before christmas, but it’s almost the last day before winter break, the twenty-first. the last day he can get to be with you before you leave for the holidays.

he had to tell you. there was no doubting it.

clapton davis was gonna confess to you tomorrow. and you had no idea.

but how? would he tell you face to face? no. he wouldn’t be able to look in your beautiful eyes if you decided to reject him. maybe a text? no, that’s too douchey. even for clapton.

then it came to him.

a gift basket! and a letter! what’s more romantic than that? he’ll do it during your annual gift exchange you both do and (have done for years) in the morning. he knows the way your face lights up whenever he gives you something small, like a piece of gum. how would you react if he gave you something actually meaningful? oh, how he could get lost in that question for days.

but there was no time to waste.

the sooner he got this off his chest, the sooner you might be in his arms.

————————

you couldn’t get enough of the holidays. that was the one thing you and clapton didn’t have in common, you thought as you walked down the halls, looking for him.

you were wearing your favorite christmas/winter sweater and a very festive hat. it was the last day before break. everyone was in the festive season, even principal verge. that…that was a little unnerving.

but besides that, you were completely filled with joy. school is almost out, it’s the holiday season, and clapton—

oh, yea. clapton hasn’t showed up yet. that wasn’t unusual, but you had expected him to be here as it was the morning of your gift exchange. you always met up at the front of the school, a while before class started.

you hadn’t gotten him a whole lot. just a cd for this new artist he liked. you could barely keep up with how many he listened to. he was never big on receiving presents. but since it was your senior year, you wanted to do something special. yeah, that was the reason. not because you had slowly developed feelings for him, but because it was senior year.

…

yeah, you couldn’t even believe your own bullshit.

you hoped that he would notice your little splurge and take it as a hint. but who’re you kidding? this is clapton davis. he would need a lot more than that. just as you’re getting lost in thought, you feel a tap on your shoulder. the tap turns into a shove, and you now know who it is behind you.

“finally! looked like you were in some real deep thought, there.” clapton says.

“yeah, thinking about crazy things, like where the hell you are since you’re two minutes late.” you respond, holding up your phone and showing the time. nothing could get past you.

he loved that about you.

“oh, i’m sorry. do you not want this gift basket that i totally haven’t been working on for the past day?” he asks with a tone and smile that makes you want to punch him in the face and kiss him all at the same time.

it takes you a moment to register what he’s even holding up.

it’s a relatively small bag with tissue in it, but you can see some of the gifts peeking out of it. the fact there’s even multiple things surprises you. and clapton realizes that.

“yeah, i kind of went overboard. i just…wanted to do something, uh, special.”

you take it from him, your mouth still open from surprise and genuine happiness. you’re about to look inside as you remember that there’s a gift for him inside your backpack. now you’re starting to feel like your present isn’t as good as you thought it was. you take out the cd and hand it to him.

“well, here you go. i know it isn’t much, but i wanted to do something special too, y’know? sorry if it’s—“

but he cuts you off.

“it’s great—amazing. i love it. thank you.”

and you can tell he says it with meaning. the smile, his tone, everything. god, this boy was going to be the death of you if neither of you didn’t fess up.

“well, don’t just stand there. open your gift!” he says, enthusiastically.

you smile at him, and begin to pull out the tissue. one by one, you start to pull out the myriad of gifts. your favorite candy, your favorite snacks. the usual. then, the real gifts stared to appear. hair bands, since he knew you lost so many, your favorite band cassette, and a bracelet he knew you had wanted for forever. your smile grows wider and wider as each gift comes out of the bag.

clapton’s standing there anxiously, waiting to see what you’ll say.

you reach the end of the bag, and find an envelope with your name on it. before you can open it, clapton’s already taking it out of your hand.

“don’t read that yet!” he yells, almost a little too loud.

you’re a bit taken aback by his response. what was so sensitive that he had to quite literally snatch it out of your hand? it couldn’t be what you were thinking, right?

“i mean, don’t—not yet. it’s special. for later.” he says, stuttering through the sentence and handing the letter back to you.

not sure how to respond, you let out a small “okay, then.” before standing awkwardly in silence.

“thank you,” you say. “for the gifts. i can tell you put a lot of thought into them.” you cross your arms across your chest as you say this.

visibly, clapton’s anxiety dissipates and it looks like a weight has lifted off of his shoulders.

“good, because I don’t know what I would do if you hated it.” he responds. you both laugh at this. thank god, the awkward moment has passed. “about the letter—“ he starts, but you’re quick to cut him off. “oh no, i get it. can’t have me getting all sentimental around you, huh?” you joke. he’s grateful you handled that situation, he probably would’ve just made it worse.

“i’ll catch you later?” clapton asks.

“definitely.” you say, smiling.

the bell rings, signaling that school is starting. dammit, has it really been that much time already?

as you both part to your separate classes, you can’t help but feel curious about why he was so insistent on you not reading the letter. it couldn’t have been that bad, right? as you slowly walk to class, your curiosity gets the best of you, and you take out the envelope, open it, unfold the piece of paper, and begin reading. at first, it’s simple.

“merry christmas. i hope you liked the basket. you better, because…because i’m your best friend. anyways, hope you like this.

-your best friend, clapton”

it’s written in surprisingly good hand writing, but in small letters, you can barely make out the words “flip the page”. interesting. maybe it’s a stupid p.s. or something. but you’re quickly mistaken, because as you flip the page, you realize this is no additional information. it’s enough words to fill an essay.

you read the whole thing, every single syllable.

you were sure that you had read it wrong the first time. so you read it a second time. . . and a third time. . .and a fourth time. nothing about it had changed. it still had the same ending.

“i’m pretty sure i’m in love with you.” it said.

fuck class. class could wait.

you had to find clapton.

part 2! ☆

Rae, I need that part two more than I need my peppermint tea- 👀 I’m about to watch Detention for the 20th time this month… yes, December… no, I don’t have a problem 😂

it’s finally here!! sorry for making y’all wait, but it’s here. it’s a lot shorter due to my life being busy and just wanting to get it out, but i love it! hope you do too ☆

from me, to you

wordcount: 645

pairing: clapton davis x gn! reader

warnings: clapton has an inner monologue that’s kind of angsty?? i think this is one more cliché ❤️

—————

the suspense was killing him. did you read it yet? did you even remember the letter existed? what did you think? a million thoughts were rushing through clapton’s head as he walked to his class. maybe if he walked painstakingly slow, his mind would do the same.

but how would he distract himself for one whole hour? he had hoped that he wouldn’t run into you.

clapton was never one to think that highly of himself. surprising, i know. it seemed like everyone in his life thought he was the coolest. that he was amazing. but deep down, he never really thought that.

but you were always there to bring him up. to make him feel like everything people said he was—in the most healthy way possible.

he just doesn’t know what he’d do with himself if you didn’t feel the way he felt about you. he couldn’t lose you, not over some stupid feelings. he’d do anything to keep you in his life, even if it meant having to watch you go on with yours without him.

god, he really couldn’t lose you.

he was so lost in thought thinking about you, he thought he felt you tap his shoulder. surprisingly, it actually was you. and you were pulling him into an empty hallway so you could talk to him. he didn’t need to go to class that bad. wasn’t like it would affect his grade, anyways.

“finally,” you say.

“looked like you were in some real deep thought, there.”

he noticed you re-using his words from your earlier conversation. you never really forgot about anything, did you? under different circumstances, his heart would be fluttering because of that thought, but instead it’s fluttering because he’s not sure if you’re here to break his heart or not.

he realizes he hasn’t responded to you yet, but honestly he’s not sure if that would make things worse or way worse.

but he can’t just not talk to you.

“i was.” he says, letting out the smallest smile, one that was less full of energy, and more full of anxiety.

“i, uhm…i read the letter.” you say.

“oh.” he replies. maybe you didn’t read the back. maybe there is hope to salvage this friendship.

but his hope quickly dissipates as you finish your sentence.

“the whole letter.”

“oh.” was that all he could say?! no wonder you wanted to reject him, he thought.

you knew you were gonna have to lead the conversation, otherwise you’d never get him to tell you how he felt. you had to hear him say it.

“did you mean what you wrote?” you ask.

a beat passes.

“all of what you wrote.” you clarify.

your heart was racing. what if it was just impulse? what if you had read everything wrong?

“every word.” he answers.

you both stare at each other in silence. you don’t even realize how close you two are until he speaks.

“can i kiss yo—“ he tries to ask but you cut him off with a kiss as soon as the first word comes out of his mouth.

it didn’t last long, but you both savored every single moment of it. his lips were soft. soft like cotton candy, and—god, just as sweet. he kissed you with all the emotion he’s felt for you over the years. in the few moments your lips did meet, his hand found its way to your cheek. really, the only reason you both pulled away was to get some air.

after you both pull away, you’re left looking into his beautiful, brown, love-struck eyes. you decide to put a hand on his cheek, too.

“y’know, i think i love you too.” you say.

“you mean it?” he asks.

“every word.”

part 1

taglist (all the people who begged for a part two) ☆

@lovelyniyachy

@omwtkydttfym

@tacomumun3r

@janitorhutcherson (my bestie)

just posting to say that i’ll get to the requests soon!!

can you please make a fluff piece where the reader moves in to boyfriend!Mike’s house? I enjoy reading your work!

hey-o! and thank you! kind of back from the dead with this fic, but i really love this request so i had to do it. for all of those who have put in requests, i swear i’m getting to those! they’re cooking, promise. (also not a christmas fic but i love these christmas borders made by @saradika-graphics so i had to use them) enjoy!! ☆

moving day

words: 409 (short i know, sorryy)

pairing: boyfriend!mike schmidt x gn!reader

warnings: light cursing, and just some cute domestic fluff ❤️

————

“okay, i think that should do it.” mike says as he places the last of your boxes onto the bedroom floor.

“thank god.” you groan, exhaustedly. it had been a long day of moving, walking, and carrying for you both.

moving-in was exciting for you. when mike first extended the offer, you thought that he was kidding. but no. he actually wanted you to live with him, and that made you feel a myriad of happy little emotions.

“now, we just gotta unpack.” he states.

you let out an even more exhausted groan in response.

you had about half a dozen boxes, and unpacking them was not an option for you. due to major exhaustion—and let’s just be honest, unwillingness—you flopped down on his your bed in hopes that you’ll fall asleep and when you wake up, everything would be taken care of.

mike, on the other hand, was more amused than exhausted. yea, getting all the boxes from your car sucked, but this was certainly brightening up his day. actually, just you in general brightened up his day. he wasn’t the type of person to show his emotions, but the fact that he could call his bed “our bed” now made him want to do like, several mental backflips.

so he couldn’t really be mad at your childlike tantrum you were throwing just now. i mean, it was pretty funny. but he knew if you never unpacked today, those boxes would become part of the house, and he didn’t feel like navigating through a bunch of boxes for the next couple of years, so he decided to be a good boyfriend and help you get off the bed,

by pushing you off, like a good boyfriend would do.

you land on the ground with a loud thud, which emits an unusual giggle from mike.

“you motherfucker.” you say while laying face down on the ground.

he walks over to you and crouches down to get on your level. you open your eyes to find him smiling at you in your immature state. before he can react you kiss him and pull him down by his neck so now he’s on laying on the ground kissing you.

he’s quick to wrap his arm around your lower back and pull you, so you’re both on your sides. you put a hand up on his cheek and smile into the kiss.

yeah, you could definitely get used to this every day.

hiii !! if it's not too much to ask could we get a peeta x reader (m or gn) and reader gets sick so peeta takes it upon himself to take care of them?? really fluffy with reassurance that reader's not a bother, cooking, baking bread, bathing reader etc. I LUVV UR WORK !

the doctor is in

pairing: peeta mellark x gn!reader

summary: after you get sick, peeta takes it upon himself to be the person taking care of you. this can technically take place after mockingjay, but there’s no real mention of any of that so…read it however you would like

warnings: mentions of throwing up, slight bit of angst because reader feels a bit emotional

word count: 953

author’s note: neww format!! and thank you!! there is NOT enough peeta content in this world. also, it’s never too much to ask! hope you like this, i made it with lots of love ☆

waking up should be nice. comforting. especially in peeta’s arms. but that was not the case for today. why? because you woke up with a searing headache, a sore throat, and an awfully runny nose. the morning sun, which you would usually love, was doing the absolute worst for your condition.

and as much as you loved the boy with his arm around your waist, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer in this position, so you proceeded to remove his arm from your waist, and sit up.

big mistake.

because unbeknownst to you until now, this mystery illness had another symptom, which you just found out was nausea. yayyy.

you used whatever remaining strength you had left to make it to the bathroom to throw up. if the world wanted a way to make you feel worse than you already did, this was the way.

you had been doing that for what felt like hours, and then you felt your hair being pulled from your face, and an arm rubbing your back softly.

your body finally decided to give you a break from the torment, and you looked up to find none other than your beautiful, tired boyfriend; peeta.

“well, you’re up early.” he says.

you turn around to face him and give him a small, exhausted smile in response. but that was all he needed.

“you feeling okay?”

you shake your head.

“well, let’s get you cleaned up, then you can head back to the bed, alright?” he says, rubbing your arms up and down.

nodding in response, he helps you stand up and gets your toothbrush for you.

you brush your teeth as he exits the room to get something. who cares if brushing your teeth immediately after vomiting is bad for your teeth? it’s not like you were gonna stand around with the taste of your own vomit in your mouth.

you finish brushing and feel some sense of normalcy return to the morning. as you put away your toothbrush and toothpaste, peeta enters the room and ushers you to the bed. there’s an array of items on it: blankets, medicine, extra pillows, and much more.

as he gently sits you down and the bed, you try to protest and say that you can’t be sick today, that you have things to do. but before you can he cuts you off.

“shh, let me take care of you, for once. please?”

he puts a hand on your cheek, and you just can’t resist his request when you look into those precious, soft eyes of his.

“okay.” you say in a very hoarse voice. that word will probably the first and last word uttered today, since even saying it sent intense pain throughout your throat.

“oh look, they speak.” he jokingly says.

you roll your eyes before he gives you a kiss on the forehead before tucking you into the bed, and asking you how many blankets you would like and if you wanted the windows open.

the whole day was filled with forehead kisses, sweet nothings, and a lot of tissues.

and you weren’t gonna lie, the multiplied affection peeta gave you continuously throughout the day made you feel a lot better. but it also made you worried. were you burdening peeta with all your wants and needs? the idea made you feel a little more nauseous than you already were, so you decided to toss it to the side.

you thought the affection would at least dwindle down as it was nearing evening, but you were quickly corrected as you smelt the mouth-watering aroma of fresh bread waft throughout the house.

as the day went on, your voice became easier to use, so when peeta walked through the door with a delicious looking meal and a slice of fresh bread, you could finally ask him something you’d been wondering the whole day.

“are you sure i’m not a burden to you?”

he looks a bit taken aback, like the idea that you just told him was something he had never heard or thought of in his life.

he puts the tray of food down before he goes to sit on the side of the bed. he puts a hand on your cheek for the fiftieth time before speaking.

“now i know you’re really sick.”

you laugh, confusedly.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, leaning into his hand.

“it means that you’re not thinking right, because what you’re thinking is quite the opposite.” he says, with a small smile.

“are you sure? i mean, because i—“

but he puts two fingers to your mouth.

“will you let me speak?” he asks with a sweet tone that makes you melt.

“you’re important to me, and you’re obviously not feeling well. i just want to make you feel good, because that’s what you deserve. you’re always talking care of me, but sometimes i just wanna take care of you. because i love you.”

this wasn’t the first time you heard him say i love you, but all the feelings you felt when he first said it are certainly there.

he removes his fingers from your lips, and you give him a smirk that gradually turns into a big, toothy grin.

“i love you too.” you say.

he smiles before giving you an actual kiss, on the lips.

when he pulls back, you give him a soft hit on the shoulder.

“peeta! you’re gonna get sick, too!”

“then i can lay with you all day.” he says, while getting in bed and wrapping an arm around you.

“oh yeah? then who’s gonna take care of us?” you ask.

“both of us.” he replies.

“i don’t think that’s how it works, honey.”

—————

please give feedback! it’s very appreciated ☆

y’all i may or may not have gotten sick (i accidentally manifested it from that peeta fic) so i’m gonna put a hold on writing until i feel better. so sorry, i’ll be back soon! 🫶🫶

hiya!! I hope you feel better soon and ur taking care of yourself <33

hii! i’m FINALLY getting over what i had, and i’m gonna get back to posting and writing real soon. thank you so much for checking in 🫶 it means so much 💞

guys how do you get back into the rhythm of writing