Chapter Text
Edit by me :)
“My god,” I mutter to myself, looking around the shower. What the hell is this thing? It looks like a space shuttle or something. My small shower is nothing compared to this massive walk-in shower. I’m left with only one option. I sigh before I call out to him.
“Hey! How the hell does your shower work?” I want to say his name, but I can’t seem to remember it. Oh, who am I kidding? I moaned it all night last night. I’m not forgetting it anytime soon, or ever. Best one-night stand I’ve ever had. Okay, it was also my first, but he was amazing.
I hear the door open and then his velvety voice asking, “Need some help?”
My cheeks burn, suddenly embarrassed. “Uh, yeah.”
I expect him to just explain the ten different buttons, but instead, the door of the shower slides open, and he steps in, in all his naked glory. My jaw goes slack, and he grins, showcasing those sparkling blue eyes and a freaking dimple.
“What are you doing?” I ask after a few seconds of complete silence.
“I thought we could go for Round Two," he says innocently. He reaches behind me and pushes one of the buttons. Warm water begins to stream from the ceiling (the ceiling!!!) and the walls, soaking us completely.
I feel the desire between my legs when I think about him taking me right here, in the shower. But I’m not letting him know I want him, yet. Instead, I say, “Round Two? Don’t you mean Round Three? Or was it already Four?”
He laughs, and I glance down at his body, droplets of water streaming down his broad chest to his abs and the defined V-cut. My eyes trace the thin blond hairs that lead to his cock, fully erect. It’s so thick and long, and my knees buckle at the thought of having him inside me. Again.
“Okay, Round Four, then.”
And before I can protest or even say another word, he pulls me flush against him and kisses me full on the mouth, his tongue greedily licking its way into my mouth. Any protests I could have made die in my throat at the feel of his tongue in my mouth. His hands tangle in my hair, and mine wander to his hard pecs. Tracing the lines of his hard muscles down to his abs, I can feel his muscles contract under my touch.
He tugs on my hair, tipping my head backwards so he has better access to my neck. Removing his lips from mine, he trails open-mouthed kisses down to my neck. I gasp when he sucks on my pulse point.
“You’re so sexy,” he groans against my skin, “so incredibly sexy.” His mouth continues to suck and nip my skin, traveling down to my breasts, and then he takes my nipple in his mouth and sucks. Hard. I moan loudly in response and arch my back into him.
“Fuck, the sounds you make drive me crazy, baby.” My mind is too dazed to even see red flags about the fact that he just called me baby. I’ve never been called ‘baby’ before and definitely not by a guy who I just met the day before. But it doesn’t bother me that he says it; it’s actually kinda hot coming out of his mouth.
“Are you wet for me, baby?” Even if I wasn’t, I would be now. I already discovered that he was a talker the night before, but he keeps surprising me.
“Yes,” I gasp when his fingers brush over my folds. He looks up from my chest and grins, a mischievous glint in his impossibly blue eyes. He gently backs me up against the tile shower wall.
“Time to eat, then,” he says before sinking down on his knees, parting my thighs, and licking me all the way. My hips buck forward, closer to his face at the feel of his tongue on me. He grabs my left leg and throws it over his shoulder, so he has better access. He holds my hips in place with his big hands, his fingers digging into my skin.
“Peeta!” I cry out. My hands fist in his golden curls, and my head drops back against the tiles, but I don't feel pain; I only feel Peeta’s incredible tongue eagerly lapping at my arousal. God, his mouth! I’ve never met anyone with a mouth like his. It’s now that I understand the meaning of a silver tongue. That said, I am inexperienced with oral sex. Yesterday was my first time. I’m inexperienced, in general, really. I’ve never been so thoroughly fucked like Peeta did to me last night. I’m sure, though, that no one could compete with Peeta’s tongue.
“Please, Peeta,” I beg when he teases my clit with short strokes of his tongue. He hums against me, making me whimper, before sucking my swollen clit into his mouth. My eyes slip closed, and my fingers dig into his scalp.
Sounds stream out of my mouth that I would be embarrassed about if I wasn’t sucked into oblivion right now. Peeta takes them as encouragement and removes one hand from my hip to tease my entrance with his fingers before sliding one into me. And then another. He steadily pumps in and out of me. And then, he fucking curls them.
“Fuuuckk!” I don’t have control over what comes out of my mouth anymore. “Oh my god, oh my god, Peeta!” And then I’m coming. Hard. Waves of pleasure course through me, and my whole body shakes, my vision blackening for a few seconds. My walls flutter around Peeta’s fingers; he groans but doesn’t look up. I’ve never come this hard before. Peeta removes his fingers and guides me through the aftershocks with his tongue, drinking the juices that seep out of me. When the last trembles have subsided, Peeta gently lowers my leg off his shoulder, kisses the inside of my thigh, and stands up.
“You like it when I suck your pussy, don’t you, baby?” says Peeta cheekily. And in that moment, with him standing there grinning at me and me completely boneless, it’s weird to think that we just met yesterday. It sure doesn’t feel like it.
“Fuck yes,” I pant, my chest heaving. The movement catches Peeta’s eyes, and he stares at my breasts, hungrily. Like he hasn’t just eaten me out like a champ. His right hand slides up my ribcage and cups one small mound. I gasp and arch my back when he squeezes and rolls my nipple between his fingers.
“Good, because I liked doing it. You taste like heaven, baby,” he says, all the while continuously massaging my breast. “And I like your tits. They’re perfect, not too small and not too big.”
His praise makes me blush a bright pink. No one ever praised me like that before. That sounds pathetic, but it’s true. Peeta removes his hand from my breast and cups my face. “No need to be embarrassed, baby.” He leans in, then, and kisses me, exploring my mouth, making my toes curl and desire flare low in my belly anew.
He slips his arm around me and squeezes my ass, pulling me closer against him. We moan into each other's mouths as I grind against his rock-hard cock. After several minutes of kissing and discovering one another’s mouths, Peeta pulls away and rests his forehead against mine. “Fuck me, Peeta. I want you.” I surprise myself by saying it, but it’s the truth.
“Fuck, Katniss. I want you, too, so badly. But I don’t have a condom here. I could get one-”
“Doesn’t matter; I’m on the pill, and you can pull out.” The words slip past my lips before I can stop them. Damn it, Everdeen, calm your tits. Peeta’s eyebrows climb up his forehead, and his eyes widen. Well, it’s too late to take it back now. “I need you, Peeta. Now.”
Peeta’s mouth opens and closes, his smooth demeanor slipping a moment before he stammers, “A-are you sure? I mean we just met yesterday. I’m clean, but are you absolutely sure? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or make you regret anything we did.”
“I’m sure, Peeta. You won’t make me uncomfortable or make me regret anything. That won’t be possible; yesterday was the best sex I’ve ever had. And I know we just met yesterday, but it doesn’t feel like it. I’m clean, too. And I-I trust you.” I trust him? I trust him? Where did that come from!? Oh my God, I trust him. The realization stuns me. I only met Peeta yesterday, and I already trust him enough to fuck me without a condom. That certainly never happened to me before. I’ve only been with one man, my ex, before Peeta, and we always did it with a condom.
“Wow, okay," Peeta says, looking flustered.
“You still want to, right?” I ask, suddenly feeling nervous.
“Yes. God, yes. I want you so bad right now, Katniss. I mean, look at me," he says while gesturing towards his very big, very erect cock. And I can’t help but laugh, all the tension draining out of my body.
“Why are you laughing?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, honestly.
Peeta leans in again, stealing my breath and making it impossible to continue laughing. He pulls back for a second. “I’m gonna fuck you now, if you’re still sure," he whispers. He’s giving me an out; he truly is a gentleman. I’m not going to take it, though, because I want him as badly as he wants me.
“I’m sure,” I whisper back. Peeta needs no further encouragement, and he slams his mouth against mine again. He bites my bottom lip before sucking the pain away. Soon, his tongue follows, and he traces my bottom lip with it; I open my mouth and let him in. My hands travel down his body, and he moans low in his throat when I take his length in my hands. I stroke him a couple times before Peeta pulls my hand away.
He breaks the kiss to tell me, “Your hand feels too good, baby.”
I grin against his lips and weave my hands through his soaked hair instead. Peeta's hand finds its way to my entrance and teases me, making me wetter than I already was. Then he grasps himself and positions himself at my entrance. He slides the head of his cock through my folds a couple of times, taunting me, making me whimper and beg for him.
And then he enters me. Just like the day before, he goes slowly, letting me accommodate to his size. “You feel so good, so incredibly good." Peeta moans.
I moan when he’s fully inside me. He’s so big, and I’m so full. He looks at me with questioning eyes, requesting permission to move. I nod in response, unable to form words. Peeta kisses me softly and begins to move. He thrusts into me, slow and agonizing, make me beg, "Harder." He complies, and my back digs into the tile wall, but it doesn't bother me; I only feel Peeta, filling me over and over again.
Peeta grabs my leg and pulls it over his hip, granting him better access, pushing in deeper. He hits a spot so deep inside of me that I gasp, and my muscles tighten. “Fuck, Katniss. You’re so tight. Keep squeezing my dick like that.”
The shower fills with the sounds of our skin slapping against each other's and our moans and cries, along with the occasional filth that streams out of Peeta’s mouth.
“I’m close, Peeta!” I cry out as he rapidly pounds that same spot over and over.
“Me too, baby.” Peeta grunts. His hand finds my clit, and he begins rubbing it in circles, pushing me higher and higher.
“Harder!” And I’m not sure if I mean his thrusts or him rubbing my clit. It doesn’t matter because he does both. I moan loudly as I arrive at the top, and then, I fall off the edge, my walls clenching around him and my whole body shaking.
I vaguely hear Peeta say something before he pulls out. He strokes himself, and then he cums all over his hand and my leg. He looks so sexy when he comes, eyes screwed shut in ecstasy, mouth slightly agape.
Peeta sets my leg down slowly but still holds me, and I’m glad he does; otherwise, I would definitely slide down the shower wall onto the floor. I’m completely boneless, and I feel my legs wobble.
“Wow. That was...mind-blowing,” Peeta pants, and I chuckle breathlessly at his hazy state.
“Yeah, it was,” I agree. And I mean it. “Remember when I said that last night was the best sex I’ve ever had? Well, I want to take it back.”
Peeta chuckles too. “I’m honoured. You’re not so bad yourself.”
I shove his shoulder playfully. “Shut up.” He laughs and reaches behind me. He pulls his arm back, coming up with a shampoo bottle. I glance from the bottle, to him, and back to the bottle. He grins, revealing that dimple.
“Turn around," he orders. I don’t protest and turn around, facing the wall. I hear the bottle open and close, and then I feel his big, strong hands in my hair. Peeta massages my scalp and washes my hair like it’s the most important job in the world. I sigh contentedly when his nails gently scratch my scalp.
When he’s done with soaping my hair, he rinses it out just as delicately. “All done," he murmurs when I’m completely soap free. I turn around to face him, wearing a lazy smile.
“Your turn.” I stretch my hand out to take the bottle from him and he turns around. I’m greeted with the sight of his strong back muscles. Damn, he’s in good shape. I open the bottle and pour lots of shampoo on my hand before closing and setting the bottle at my feet. I lather the shampoo over my hands and then in his blond hair. I weave my fingers through his wet curls over and over. I rinse it out after a good couple minutes of massaging and tell him I’m done.
Peeta turns back to me, and we grin at each other, feeling tired but content. Peeta pushes one of the buttons, and the water stops running. He grabs my hand and pulls me towards the door. He steps out first and wraps a towel around his waist before handing me a towel. And it hits me then that it feels like we're a couple. We’re doing things couples would do, and I only met him yesterday. My head screams at me to run away, but my heart screams back to stay. This time I listen to my heart, and I stay, taking the towel gratefully.
“You can borrow a shirt and sweatpants from me.”
“That would be nice. Thank you.” I smile shyly at him, and he smiles back brightly.
“I’ll grab them for you," he says before walking towards his bedroom, the towel dangerously low on his hips.
Peeta comes back a couple minutes later, already wearing a shirt and black boxer briefs that make his ass look incredible. I blush and look away before he catches me staring at his ass, which is ridiculous, considering what we just did.
He hands me the clothes, and I take them. “Um, shall I make breakfast? Or is that weird after a one-night stand?” he asks, rubbing his neck sheepishly.
I consider his words; yes, I want breakfast. Yes, it is weird after a one-night stand, I think? No, I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here.
“I don’t know. I’ve never had a one-night stand before," I say, looking everywhere but at him.
“Me either," he says, suddenly shy. And that pulls me up short. He hasn’t done this before? Pussy Champ Peeta-I made that name up, though he deserves it-has never had a one-night stand before?
I arch an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yeah. Just never met someone who I'd wanted to do it with," he admits.
Oh. So, that means that I’m- oh . I’m someone who he wanted to do it with. And he did ; he certainly did. I clench my thighs together, thinking about all we did not even thirty minutes ago.
I blush again. “Well, same goes for me,” I say, lacking better words. “And yes, breakfast sounds lovely," I add hastily.
Peeta looks relieved, seems like he doesn't want me to leave, either. “Okay, I’ll leave you alone to get dressed, then. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”
“Okay.” And with that, Peeta’s out the door. I hear him heading to the kitchen and moving pots and pans and other kitchen stuff around. I can’t help the goofy smile that paints my face. I feel content, freshly fucked, and...happy. Happy in a way I’ve never been before.
I dress quickly, pulling the strings of his sweatpants as tight as possible. It’s no use; they're still falling off my hips. I don’t mind though because they’re soft and warm. His shirt is also a couple of sizes too big for me and lands mid thigh. I try not to inhale his scent like a freak, but I don't succeed; he just smells so damn good. Like cinnamon and dill. I comb my hair with my fingers and pull it back in my usual braid.
I walk out of the bathroom and am greeted with the delicious scent of french toast. Peeta is standing at the stove with his back to me. He pulled on some athletic shorts over his boxer briefs. I watch the muscles of his back roll with each movement of his arm for a while before I cough, announcing that I’m there.
Peeta looks over his shoulder and smiles. “I made french toast. I hope you like that.”
I smile back. “I love french toast.”
“Good. With or without syrup?”
“With syrup, please. Lots of syrup,” I say, walking to the kitchen island and taking a seat.
“That can be arranged.”
Peeta turns around and sets a plate with french toast loaded with syrup and fruit before me. I beam at him. “It looks delicious, Peeta.”
“Try it," he says, handing me a fork and a knife. I dig in without saying anything else, and when the first bite melts on my tongue, I moan loudly.
“Oh my God, Peeta. This is amazing.”
Peeta sighs in relief. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I love it. Really, this is the best french toast I’ve ever had,” I tell him honestly.
Peeta smiles and sits down, too, beginning to eat from his own plate. We eat in comfortable silence, a glance and a shy smile here and there. When I’m done, I ask what I’ve been curious about this whole time, “Peeta?”
“Yes?”
“Why do you have such a fancy shower?”
“It’s from my girlfriend," he deadpans, and my jaw drops. I scowl when I see the laugh in his eyes. “No, just kidding. It came with the apartment.”
“Idiot,” I murmur, but I can’t help but laugh; he’s just impossible to be mad at.
“So, um, Katniss?” Peeta asks, suddenly serious and looking slightly nervous. Gone is the guy who fucked me so confidently and who called me baby.
“Yes?” I ask, looking a bit warily at him.
“Do you want to go out with me sometime?”
I lock eyes with him and see the uncertainty, as if I'd be able to walk away after yesterday and today. “Yes. I would love to.” I answer with as much sincerity as I can put in those words.
Peeta beams at me, and my heart skips a beat. He’s just so damn cute. “I really like you, Peeta.”
“I really like you too, Katniss.”
And after all these years, I can say that I don’t regret that Peeta is and always will be my only one-night stand, ever. I snuggle further into my husband's chest, and he tightens his arm around me. When he asks later if I had a dream that night, I answer with, “Yeah, about our first activities together.”
He laughs and buries his face in my neck. “I certainly never looked at that shower the same way again.”