stillplaying | 7th Game [action/voice]

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7th Game [action/voice]

[Action]

[The bakery is a mess. She never meant for it to end up that way. It just sort of happened. Flour covering hair and body, the smell of something burning from the kitchen, flecks of pink frosting teasing her cheeks. Peeta's normally presentable window displays are less than ideal; a poor attempt at recreating the alluring cakes that always caught her attention back in District Twelve. The frosting's melted from the summer heat on one that's sat out since Friday. Another is poorly covered with a grey color -- an attempt at mixing food dyes gone horribly wrong.

Ingredients for various baked goods have somehow escaped the kitchen, piled up on the counters, half covering the note cards Peeta had left for her. Cookbooks borrowed from the library lie open elsewhere, pages now far from pristine. Half baked pretzels stock the shelves along with burnt chocolate chip cookies. Deformed cheese breads and crumbled brownie bites still in their trays sit nearby. Even Buttercup, easily pleased by any free food, ignores the easy pickings.

She tried. She had tried so hard. Peeta had left her recipes. Had tried to teach her how to bake on lazy days when she was more content to spend time with him in the bakery than go about her own thing. It seems that every lesson has been forgotten. Any skill she might have had in the kitchen, utterly gone.

The rain pours outside as she plucks at the rock hard shortbread cookies she's recently retrieved from the oven, trying her best to peel them from the tray. It's a halfhearted effort as she leans her head against her hand and stares out the window. She'd rather be hunting. But it's been raining ever since Peeta left for his mission, raining so hard, all she's been able to do is check a couple of the traps in the river behind their house. And she had promised, hadn't she? Promised she'd look after the bakery?

Look how miserably she failed, the worry making it hard to breathe, harder to concentrate. Shouldn't he be back by now? Shouldn't he?

Every few minutes, she checks the journal for signs of life. Ignores Buttercup begging for real food. Glances at the door to see if Peeta's finally return. No luck. No luck at all. He's supposed to be back today. Why isn't he back yet?]

[Voice]

Why do you bother? [The words aren't meant to be recorded in the journal, but they are, anyway. It barely processes to Katniss that she's left it laying open, close enough to pick up any mutterings.] Going on these missions? Being a piece in their games?

It's stupid. This is all stupid.

[ooc: timed to after mission is over, when people start arriving home. but if you want to tag during -- feel free to have katniss in the bakery making a mess from friday on!

also, edit for warning of sexual content in the Peeta thread.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[While she's undressed him before, the circumstances had been completely different. He had been sick, nearly dying. And he wasn't... well, his lower anatomy didn't look like that.

The blush reddens, teasing the tops of her breast. She wants to look away but she doesn't know how. It's... well, embarrassing, yes. But also inexplicably fascinating.

A hand darts forward as if to touch and then pulls back just as quickly.] I did that?

A little bit. [An almost shy smile.] Or a lot. Um. [His hands land on the button of her pants, and he looks up, inquisitive.]

[His shy smile is met with one of her own. It's amazing just how much his grin seems to reassure her. Remind her that she's not alone in this new thing.

When his hands slip downward, she does finally break her gaze away. Katniss glances down at where they rest briefly and then looks up to smile shyly again and nod.]

Please?

[The smile broadens, then he leans down to kiss her belly softly. His hands deftly undo her button, then fly. Then, he hesitates, realizing he's not...quite sure what to do with what he's about to, um, get into, so to speak. He knows what girl parts look like, of course. But the touching and the pleasuring is supposed to be a rather precise art that he is unfamiliar with. What if he hurts her?

His fingertips curl over the top of her jeans and underwear. Without anywhere else to go but forward, he starts to slide them down off her hips.]

[Her heart beats loudly in her chest. How can he not hear it? Her nerves feel as if they'll get the better of her any moment and she's doing her best not to let them. She digs her hands into the blanket, propping herself up a little on her elbows, determined not to look away.

Slowly, almost painfully slow, her garments seem to be pulled off her body. She arches her back and lifts her legs when necessary, wanting to help in any way she can.

And then, in no time at all, she's naked. The scars on her arms and chest and stomach continue down onto her legs but Peeta's already shown that he doesn't seem to care. That she's still beautiful. Maybe still that girl on fire, rather than the fire mutt.]

Wow.

[Whispered, shocked. She's actually doing this, isn't she? Now, here. With the boy with the bread.]

Do you still...want to? [His hands are already on her thighs, but his eyes are on her. He heard that shock, and doesn't want to pressure her if she's having second thoughts.]

Yeah.

[Her voice is still quiet, that awe and shock still there. But there's no hesitance in replying. None at all. She wants this. She even thinks she wants this more than she's wanted anything in a long time. Because she can't imagine being here with anyone else, being with anyone else.

Maybe needing someone like this, needing them to survive, is a sort of love in its own.]

Yeah, I do. [She laughs, happy and relieved. She does, doesn't she? It might've happened eventually, but it's happening now.] Do you?

[His hands draw up and down her thighs reassuringly.] Yeah. Yeah, I do. [He keeps caressing her thighs as he leans up to kiss her.] Just tell me what you want me to do.

[Never leave her.

It's not what he's asking, but it's still the first thought to come to mind. Never leave her. Not unless he has no other choice. But never of his own free will.]

You're so warm. [The words are mumbled between messy kisses as she continues to lean forward, following his lips, trying to get as close as possible. Her hands play with his hair, the back of his neck, any bit of skin they can find.] I like it.

[A small, self-conscious chuckle bubbles into the kiss. One hand moves from her thigh to work at the tie in her hair. It takes some doing, but he wants to see her hair undone about her, splayed on the pillow, while he lies nestled between her legs. When it's done, he spends a moment arranging her hair about her with artistic interest. It's something of a stall, since as increasingly physically desperate as he is, he's getting increasingly shy over what to do next.

One hand lands on her thigh again, sliding upward, then hesitating at the top.]

Can I...touch you?

[it takes her a moment to realize what he's doing. Not brushing or stroking her hair, like he had been earlier, but something more worth removing the hair tie for. She feels self-concious for a moment. Here she is, lying naked in front of Peeta Mellark, and she feels self-concious about freeing her hair from her braid. And it's not like he's never seen it down before.

She giggles shyly as she lets him play with her hair, still lazily stroking his back and side. It's a nice sensation, different from all the other ones he's been causing tonight. Tender instead of hungry. But still loving. There's no mistaking the love in any of his carresses. Do her own touches feel the same to him?

He's done. Suddenly, procrastination seems to be over. And he's being shy again. Asking if he can touch her. Hasn't he been doing just that this whole time? Why ask for permission now? Why... oh.]

Y-yes.

Edited 2012-08-21 20:21 (UTC)

[His hand just might shake a little as he smooths over her lower belly, then trails his fingers downward. Warming more than caressing. He tries to keep looking her in the eyes. Then, one finger begins to explore. It doesn't enter, and he tries to very hard to be as gentle as possible. In fact, it might be too gentle, but he'd rather err on that side than hurt her. His other hand keeps caressing her thigh as his finger slides over the little nub.]

You're...soft.

[The way his hand shakes against his skin makes her feel a little funny inside. Different from the other feelings, from the hunger. More like she felt when he played with her hair. A tickle in her chest that makes it hard to breathe, like she could suffocate in the strange emotion but it would still be okay.

Her breath catches in her throat as she watches Peeta's hand with intent interest. No one's ever touched her there before, not even by her own hand. And it's... it's even better than the wings. Better than the breasts. Just that light, fluttering touch.]

I like it. [The words are hushed, as if talking too loudly would ruin everything.] Can you... can you, um, do it firmer? Like... with the wings?

[He nods, and then increases the pressure, trying to imitate what he did with her wings. His hand continues to move on her thigh.]

Is it okay? Does that hurt?

[She gasps the moment he applies more pleasure, an incredible shiver of pleasure ricocheting from groin outward. Better than the wings. So much better. She squirms on the bed, trying to get closer. Anything to quell this hunger. It takes her a moment, then, to process his question.]

No. Yes. I mean-- [Katniss giggles and smiles that embarrassed smile that keeps making its way on her face tonight.] It's good. You're good at this.

[A relieved smile. Not too relieved, since watching her gasp and squirm makes him even harder. He is not going to touch himself in front of her. That just feels selfish, somehow. He needs to reach for a condom, but if this feels so good for her, he shouldn't stop, right? He keeps stroking her, his other hand venturing up from her thigh and over her stomach to circle one breast, as though he's painting her with his hands. Lightly, but perhaps not lightly enough, he pinches her nipple, curious.]

[She keeps watching him, eyes dancing all over the place. It's as if she's racing to memorize everything at once: the hand between her legs, the fingers stroking the rest of her body, the blueness of his eyes, and yes, even the rest of his body. She can't hold her head still, she feels as if she can't hold still at all. Like she's about to explode any moment.

Katniss is pretty certain she nearly does when he pinches her. She jerks upward and stutters out his name, mind and body reeling from sensation. That wetness building between her legs feels even more real now. Everything feels more real now. As if she's on an edge and about to fall off. But she doesn't want to fall alone.]

I want you in me. [She leans up to cup his face, kissing him long and hard. It's as much an attempt to cover up the words she just spoke as it is to try and ease the sensations. It doesn't work. Not like she wants it to.] Please, Peeta? Please?

[He doesn't have to be told twice. He peels away from the kiss and snatches the pack of condoms, rips one away from the rest, and frantically opens the package, dropping it once in the meantime. Getting the damn thing on feels a little weird, and he spends a moment deciding if he did it right. With a deep breath, he settles between her legs, grasping himself and making sure he's pointed in the right direction. He captures her lips once again.]

Now?

Now.

[The word is nearly inaudible, spoken against his lips. Putting any unnecessary distance between their bodies right now would be a horrible thought. Her arms are wrapped tightly around his back, fingers of one hand playing with his feathers. Even if watching him fumble with the condom had brought a new rush of nerves, they're quickly forgotten as soon as he's above her, as soon as he's between her bent legs. She can feel him there, at her center, poised and waiting for her confirmation.

She crushes her lips to his without waiting. Now. Real. Real, real, real. A moment just for them.]

Just tell me if I'm hurting you, okay?

[He moves his hips forward. As soon as he's partway inside, his hands bury themselves in her hair, and he kisses her, pausing, buried only to the head. He's shaking, shaking from anticipation and from fear and from how oh so amazing this feels and the sheer act of self-control it is to pause and make sure she's okay. She's never done this either, isn't it supposed to hurt for girls the first time? He wants, wants, wants to keep going, to be surrounded by Katniss Everdeen, to be inside her and to be hers.]

Are...are you hurt?

[She's prepared for that. Remembers the lectures, how she's heard that it's supposed to hurt the first time. That there are exceptions but that it usually hurts.

Of course, most girls in Panem haven't been in the Hunger Games. Even less have been in it twice. And so very few have sustained the level of injury Katniss has had to her body.

Holding her breath, she's so prepared for the pain. But none comes, nothing past a mild discomfort. A strange weight inside of her.

Peeta Mellark's inside of her. It's not a day she ever thought she'd see.]

No. [She smiles at him, kisses him - his lips and his chin and every corner of his mouth.] It's okay. I'm okay.

[A rushed sigh of relief. The feel of her, every little movement she makes, every twitch...it's astonishing how much of her he can feel already. Confidence building, he inches forward slowly, planting little kisses all over her mouth. He remembers he has hands, but they're tangled in her hair and don't want to let go. His hips jerk suddenly at the end, and he tenses, still shaking, fully seated inside her.]

Sorry! Are you okay?

[His face is flushed, and he feels the sweat trickling between his shoulder blades, but he holds her tight against him, as fully one with her as it is possible to be. His lips seek out her throat.]

[There are so many conflicting sensations within her. His lips on her mouth, his hands buried in the strands of her hair, the warmth of him enveloping her body, now both outside and in. So much to feel and savor all at once. And the hunger, a hunger she doubts she'll ever properly understand, still building and building. She's starting to wonder if it'll ever be sated.

When the kisses break, she's able to meet his eyes. Her own gray ones radiate amazement and, even though she doesn't quite realize it, love.

This time, she nods in response to his question. She's okay. Maybe she's even more than okay. Her eyes close when he finds new skin to kiss and she makes a small happy sound in the back of her throat.

But it doesn't keep a new round of worries from cropping up in her head. All this time, he's been asking about her. Pleasuring her. And she's just been selfish. Like always. Eyes open quickly.]

You? Are you okay?

Yeah. [He's breathless, but the shaking is starting to abate. His lips part in a smile as he meets her eyes, as deeply in wonder as she is.] Better than ever.

[He kisses her again, fingers curling in her hair. He tries pulling out a little, then sliding back in. It's a rather stunted motion, considering his position, and more than a little experimental, but oh.]

Me too.

[Is she supposed to move, too? She's not sure. Not sure what to do now that he's inside of her. They don't just lay here forever. That much she knows. Maybe she should move. Be more participatory. She's not feeling as sore anymore, adjusting to his girth.

As he moves back within her, she tries to lift her hips towards him. It's not so hard to use her legs for leverage even as it forces her to push her splayed wings harder on the bed. And that hurts a little, but not so much that it makes her stop.]

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