Saturday, April 21, 2012

A Peeta Mellark Lemon -- Realizing Reality


Character: Peeta Mellark

Fandom: The Hunger Games

OC: Apple Caliko Grayson, but Peeta calls her Caliko

Inspiration: Baking bread. 


Oh, and just a warning to some of you: This contents of the story are switched up a bit and doesn't follow the original plot with Katniss, Peeta, and Gale.  Katniss and Gale have been together since her first hunger games and she didn't enter the Quarter Quell.


It was one of those lazy, stay at home sort of days.  The sun had long since retreated behind the thick clouds that littered the sky and the work room that Caliko and Peeta were in was bathed in a strange, eerie kind of light as a result.

Other than the gentle ticking of the clock above the workroom door, the only sound was the creak of the table as Peeta kneaded a bit of dough.  He had such an intense look in his eyes that Caliko knew he was hardly here at all, but rather in some far off place that probably had nothing to do with bread, or District 12, or peace.

His mind was often gone these days, and he was always remembering his time spent in the Arena.  She remembered, too, for she had not only spent her own time there during the 72nd Games, but had also rooted for him and Katniss during the entirety of the previous ones.

When they had both returned from the Quarter Quell, they shared the nightmares that had resurrected at the sight of death and the Capitol; had known the comfort of someone who had understood; and, upon returning to District 12, realized that they had become something that required another to survive.

She watched him, staring openly as he kneaded the bread.  She had a chunk of dough in front of her, as well, but it remained ignored.  His features were arranged in a way that she was quite familiar with, and it told her that he was there, fighting off Cato and painting himself into the river; staring into wolverine eyes that matched those that had been his enemies; feeling the deathly cool texture of the Nightlock berries on his tongue.

And then she noticed other things, like how his breathing had increased to a shallow, airy pant, and how his rolled up shirt sleeves were falling down his arms but he wasn't realizing.

"…Peeta," she murmured, voice barely drifting past her lips.  But the room was so silent that it was enough, and Peeta was immediately back, head jerked toward her and staring at her as though she wasn't really there, like she was some sort of figment of his imagination.  He was still in the Arena.

Her gaze didn't linger on his because she didn't want to frighten him.  This had happened before, and so as she slowly took a step forward, she was unsurprised when all his attention was directed toward her in a rather menacing way.  He conceived her as a threat; a Tribute.

But she was unafraid, because she had faced her fair share of dangers too, and Peeta wasn’t one of them.  She hand slowly reached out to touch his face and, when her fingers drifted over his cheekbone, the spell shattered and Peeta took a deep, gasping breath, as though he had just been drowning.

His hand slipped over hers and he suddenly enveloped her with his arms, dragging her to his chest as he breathed her in.  She didn't care that his hands had flour all over them, or that they were in the back room of his bakery, or even that he was using her as a way to come back to reality.  She wanted him to use her; to need her. 

"Shhh, shhh," she found herself whispering into his hair.  He was shaking, sapping in her arms.  Her hands folded over him, drifting through his blonde hair and down his back, clutching at his linen shirt and untying his apron, because it was just in the way.  He buried his head into her neck and let out a strangled noise.

Something happened within her at that moment, and she knew that there was only one way to forget the memories.  She gently tugged his head back and caught his eye.  They weren't at home, or in the privacy of their bedroom, but it didn't really matter, and she didn't hesitate as she leaned in to press a kiss to his mouth.

He responded immediately, tightening his grasp on her and returning her kiss.  It was a frenzied sort of kiss: one that seemed to fit the moment perfectly.  But it seemed to work, because Peeta was with her now.  He wasn't trapped in the Arena, or remembering it in the Bakery.  He was with her now, and nothing else really mattered.

Her fingers lightly tunneled into his hair, drawing his head closer to her as her tongue raced over his lips.  He groaned, opening his mouth to her, and their tongues met one another in a vivid battle.  She was gasping now, because everything felt like it was moving so fast.  The way Peeta's hands were running over her body was inspiring and she could hardly remember what had happened before they had been intertwined.  But that was good, because they needed to forget.

Caliko was quite aware that the room they were in wasn't at all fit for this sort of thing.  There was flour all over the tables and dough waiting for the oven.  So she drew back from the intense kiss and let out a sigh.  Her fingers drifted down his face, curling over his lips.  He caught her hand and kissed it, eyes never leaving hers. 

Her other hand touched the collar of his shirt as though itching to take it off.  She didn't.  Instead, she breathed, "Let's go."  And, as Peeta was nodding in agreement, Caliko was pulling him behind her and entering another room.

The storage room wasn't an ideal place, but they absolutely couldn't waste the time going home, because it was a twenty minute walk to the Victor's Village.  So Peeta closed the door behind him and they were gone again, almost immediately wrapping themselves in each other's arms and allowing their lips to do the talking.

She fingered his collar again, and this time, ventured to undo the buttons.  He broke the kiss to watch her.  There was a heady look in his eyes that made her shiver, because the message in them was a clear as day.  When the last button was pulled, she slowly slid his shirt over his shoulders and it fell to the floor.  As always, she felt herself having difficulty breathing as she came into contact with his bare chest. 

Her hands slid down him, brushing over his shoulders and down his pectorals.  She was utterly aware of his gaze on her face, and it made the moment that more intense.  Her fingers hesitantly touched the hem of his pants and she looked up into the bright blue of his eyes.

They stood there for what seemed like forever, not talking.  His gaze seemed to be giving her permission, and so, as her fingers moved, he leaned down to kiss her once more.  His pants slid over his hips, past his knees, and became a puddle on the floor that was quickly kicked away.

She couldn’t breath now, because his bare body was pressed so delightfully to hers and it was stunning.  It felt strange to be so clothed when he was so naked, and apparently he thought so too, because his large hands were moving again, running into her shirt and sliding up her back.  She caved into him, littering him with kisses as he pulled her shirt away.  Whispered words flew from his lips and it made her want him all the more, because he was describing, and explaining, and depicting everything he wanted to do with her; how he was going to forget.

When his hands finally paused, and her clothing was tangled with his on the floor, they stood chest to chest with one another.  His eyes admired her, taking in everything that she was and more, because he could draw out things that she didn't even know she had, and feelings that she hadn't felt in years.

And then he was stepping forward, and she was stepping back, and it felt like the start of a dance as they moved across the small room.  And it was, in a way, because they were graceful for killers; poised for Victors; and they were sure they didn't have any right to be.

But nothing could change the moment.  He lifted her up against the wall and his hands clutched at her thighs as she wrapped her legs around him.  She felt his erection pressing against her folds, like a promise just waiting to be fulfilled, and just like that, the foreplay was over.  Because they never really needed that anyway: all they needed was entanglement and unification, because it was the only way to forget and to remember and to renew themselves all at the same time.

He pushed himself into her, slowly, gently.  But she didn't want him to go gently, and so she brought her lips up to his and portrayed her feelings into a passionate kiss.  He grunted, tightening his grasp on her legs, and moved his lips faster.  She didn't need to adjust to him.  In fact, she reveled in the discomfort that first came with the sex, because it was a way of realizing reality. 

Her back arched and her breasts were pressed against him.  Their breath was intermingled just as their bodies were.  Their hips moved at a reckless pace, spinning out of control as their instincts took over.  She moaned, clawed at his back, twisted her fingers into his hair just as he kissed her intensely and grounded her.

Obtaining the essence of another person was difficult to do, because it was mental and physical and emotional all at the same time.  But as they raced toward release, Caliko realized that she already had Peeta's essence.  She'd had it since the nights spent together in the Quarter Quell, and had fostered it every night since. 

She entwined herself around him, pleading with him to go faster and deeper and to take her with all he had.  And he did.  He absolutely took her breath away as he ground into her, fingers flying over her body and pressing against sensitive areas that made her gasp.  And then she was leaning back, staring unseeingly at the slow ceiling, and Peeta was burying his face against her neck as he let himself go.

She went with him, jerking against his hips as she felt her own release coil around the pit of her stomach.  They moaned together as they came, feeling completely in control and yet completely not.  It was a moment that could hardly be put into words, because it was a sense of bliss that was ten thousand times more intense.

And then, Peeta's thrusts slowed and became lazy.  He opened his eyes and looked up at his lover.  A thankful look was plastered in his gaze, and she returned it with a soft smile.  She leaned down to give him another kiss and was blown away by the lingering desire that still complemented it.

She giggled lightly and he slowly brought her down.  When her feet were firmly planted on the ground, he kissed her again with more of that desire, and her mind made itself up as her wrapped her arms around him.

"Peeta," she murmured, whispering against his mouth.  He paused to look at her, a question in his eyes.  "It's around closing time.  I think we should go home."

The sentiment was appreciated, because his only response was another sweet kiss.
~~~

4 comments:

  1. That was amazing and sweet! Thank you so much for taking the time to write it, I really appreciated it :3
    Would it be too much to ask for a baby daddy sequel to this once you've caught up and are ready to take more requests?? Seems like it would fit with what you wrote. Let me know what you think and I'll send the form whenever you're ready.
    -Kirstie

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    1. I'm glad you liked it :D As for the Baby Daddy sequel, I agree it would probably be easy to write something up. I shall consider it but can't make any promises since I don't know how long the rest of these requests will take~
      But definitely send info in just in case I randomly get inspired haha

      Overcast

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    2. Hahah yeah that's kinda why I left it up to you, I know how many requests you have to fill!! I'll send the form over though, hopefully you aren't as swamped with requests right now. Good luck with the rest of them!

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