Hunger Games Hookups

Chapter 2: PeetaXKatniss

Peeta

I roll over in my tent, burying my head underneath my sleeping bag and trying desperately to tune out the grunts, moans, and 'oh catos' coming from the tent next to mine. The two careers obviously had no shame whatsoever and the slapping of skin could be heard well into the night.

Teaming up with these assholes had been my only chance at surviving the bloodbath at the cornucopia and I leveraged my safety with them against the fact that I could help them find Katniss… which of course was absolutely ludicrous.

I hoped beyond hope that she was safe, wherever she was, and was thrilled that she had managed to escape the bloodbath. I knew exactly what she was thinking when she saw that bow and luckily I distracted her enough that she missed her chance to get it, which I'm sure she was none too happy about.

Katniss Everdeen. This girl had plagued my thoughts since we were kids, after her hand shot up in the air in school when she volunteered to sing I was instantly hooked. She never knew it of course, as I had yet to speak a word to her until the reaping, but I had always been madly in love with her.

The closest I had ever come to any interaction with her, outside of being in the same classes in school, was that day in the rain. She was emaciated, a skeleton, desperately looking amongst the garbage cans of the merchant shops for any scraps of food to feed her family. Her cheekbones were sharp, protruding from beneath the skin and her eyes were hollow.

The beating I took from my witch of a mother was worth it to see the hope in her eyes and the strength come back to her body in the following weeks. I had saved Katniss' life, but I still couldn't muster up the courage to talk to her.

I had made up my mind that after this reaping, after the threat of the games was gone for at least another year, I would finally man up and talk to her. I would find out everything there was to know about this girl, and eventually I would wear her walls down and she would love me.

I don't know if it was a sick twisted way of throwing it in my face but fate somehow decided we would both be chosen—me by chance, her by volunteering— to fight to the death in the games. Whatever plans I had previously possessed to make Katniss mine were thrown out the window and I decided that I was going to do everything within my power to make sure that she went home alive, even if it meant my death.

She thought my little confession to Caesar was only a means of playing the game to get ahead, but I simply couldn't let the chance go of her never knowing how I felt about her, even if she did think it was a lie.

She had no idea that she constantly invaded my thoughts. I would picture her, her dark olive skin and silky hair cascading over her slim shoulder as she slept peacefully next to me. The first time I ever experienced a wet dream was to the image of Katniss' bare body, moving over mine in a way that I couldn't truly understand yet at that age.

As I got older my sick mind managed to picture her in every type of position, as we would make love in my head.

I would picture her dark hair, splayed out in a halo behind her as I held her hands over her head and entered her for the first time. I imagined her soft lips caressing the skin of my neck as I thrust into her before biting down and claiming me as hers. My brain projected images of her slim waist with my hands gripping it, her back arched and her head flown back in ecstasy as I pushed into her from behind. Her lips would scream out my name in passion and she would beg me for more before I finally gave in.

I prided myself on being an honorable person, but deep down I still was a horny teenager that fantasized about girls just as much as the next guy. It just so happens that now I was stuck in an arena forced to fight to the death with the one girl that was always the star of my fantasies.