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Protective For A Reason - Peeta Mellark

Peeta x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 837

Requested: hey, idk if you’re still wanting to do this, but could I request a Peeta Mellark imagine. Maybe where you’ve just won the games together and he’s super protective of you around other people? Idk fluff please :))) thank you so much hun xoxo - @Anon

Authors Note: First Hunger Games Imagine Ever!!!!!! Thank you for requesting for it! 

Masterlist

Hunger Games Masterlist

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Peeta felt like something had been wrong with y/n for a few days now. She’s been different since the games, obviously. But something was off in a different way. “Are you ok?”

“Hmmmhmmm” Y/n hummed looking out the window of the train.

“Y/n?” Peeta moved to sit down next to her, close enough to the point that their thighs were touching.

“I just don’t want to do, this.” her voice cracked, and Peeta could see that her eyes were watering.

“Me either.” he agreed nodding along, but he was more concerned about her.

“We’re suppose to be done with this. The games are over. We-” Y/n voice trembled, she was so stressed. They won the games. There over, but this whole touring and train thing. Its taking a toll on Y/n, in a way that frightened her.

“I know, I know. Come here.” Peeta pulled her gently into his chest, wrapping his arms around her trembling body. Which Y/n leaned into completely, not being able to hold it together anymore. Not on her won.

“Why can’t we be done with this?” Y/n cried into his chest.

“I know. I wish there was something I could do to help.” Peeta spoke as he rested his chin on top of her head. He wished for anything, that he could do something for her in this situation.

“Its not on you Peeta.” Y/n stated as she pulled back to look him in the eyes.

“I still wish I could protect you from this.” he spoke cupping her face looking deeply into her eyes.

Y/n smiled at him, raising her hand to hold onto his wrist. “You protect me in more ways than one, Peeta. You do more than enough for me. Thank you.”

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Not as long as I can help it.” Peeta told her in a voice that left her unable to answer.

“I believe you.” she nodded, understanding what he ment in the underlining of his statement.

She knew Peets would continue to protect her. An she had a idea to what extent. She just felt bad that he was always taking care of her. But Peets always told her that he wanted to help and protect her. So she let it be.

^      ^     ^

“She only won because of him.” Once of the past winners stated to the other next to her.

“Yeah, exactly. If it wasn’t for Mellark then she would’ve died in the arena.” he agreed with her, both nodding along with annoyed faces. You could tell that they knew Peeta and Y/n were standing right there, near then. They obviously didn’t care.

“For sure.” she scoffed

“Hey!” Peeta called out having enough of listening to them talk. An talk like him and Y/n weren’t near them.

“Peeta-” Y/n shook her head, grabbing his arm as he moved. To her it wasn’t worth it. She knew what a lot of people thought about her.

“No, they can’t just say that stuff.” Peeta turned to look at her. His eyes telling her he’s not gonna back down. Peeta then turned back to look at the two victors. “You have nothing to say about her as a victor. Because you know nothing about her. Did you know that she killed more people back there than I did. Sure as hell more than either or you. Did you know that she knows over 50 ways on how to kill people with just her hands? No, because you don’t know anything about her. So shut up.”

That instantly shut the two up. A two that should’ve know better, having been through the games themselves. No one expected peeta to blow up like that. He was calm and reserved. But people were learning that he was very protective of you and with that if he needed to get loud and angry he would.

“Thank you Peeta.” y/n smirked shyly up at him through her eyelashes.

Peeta smiled at her genuinely. “Its no problem Y/n.”

“I think you scared them.” Y/n giggled as she watched the two shift feet nervously every so often.

“Good” he laughed

“Out of the games yet your still protecting me.” she smiled up at him, stepping closer.

Peeta took that last step closer to her so their chests were touching, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I’ll always protect you.”

“Peeta Mellark, victor and super protective love interest.” Y/n giggled, joking around with him.

“Damn right.” Peeta nodded full on agreeing with her joke.

“Do you think more people will be like that on the rest of this victors tour?” she questioned quietly. So quite in fact Peeta was sure if they weren’t this close he wouldn’t of heard her ask it.

“If they are, we’ll deal with them.” Peeta stated in a soft tone to comfort her. If more people decided they have a problem with her he would gladly tell them off.

I have a headcannon that it was Peeta's mother who used to decorate the bakery's cakes before him.

She learned it as soon as she married the baker, and is kinda good at it.

Maybe that's why she's so picky about the cakes Peeta makes. "If I had done it..." is what she always says when is about to criticize him. But the truth is that the boy is so good that it's difficult to find something in his cakes to complain.

Peeta took his mother's artistic essence. She is good at crafts, always painting the bakery sign with elegant calligraphy, decorate them with flower designs.

Mrs. Mellark would be a good artist if it weren’t for her complete lack of imagination. For her the books are nonsense, and the illustrations are children’s drawings.

That’s why she didn’t let Peeta draw too much when he was growing up. “go do something useful.” She said “You will not learn to knead bread making doodles.”

She never wanted to be a baker, she never wanted the life she chose, but she knew it was the only way. Her father was a drunk, her mother was neurotic

She didn't choose her husband out of love. She chose him because he was stable, because he was disciplined, because he could be a good father. She didn't have children because she wanted to be a mother, but because she needed more hands to work.

The first was planned, the second tolerated, the third an accident.

After the games, when Peeta returned home, limping and with deep-set eyes. She went to visit him a few times in the victors village.

Peeta's house wasn't organized like she taught him to leave his room. Was a mess. His room was full of pages with scribbles, tubes of paint amd unfinished paintings. Art and more art, everywhere... Mrs. Mellark didn't even know that her son still painted. After he became a teenager, was good at hiding who he really was from his mother. She never saw him draw again, but the truth is that the little artist she tried to repress so much never stopped drawing.

Drawings of landscapes and places, many doodles from the small bakery where he grew up. Drawings of people, neighbors, customers, many drawings of the hunting girl. Peeta paints her much better than she really looks, without marks, without scars, without the frown she has. For Mrs. Mellark, it's just another sign of the madness her son has fallen into.

To the woman’s surprise, she find some drawings of herself, all unfinished. Peeta always seems to stop drawing when he get on her face. Lots and lots of unbedded scribbles of herself. She has always preferred to be feared than loved, to be the tough guy when her soft husband doesn’t have the courage to discipline his children. But it pains her to see that her husband’s drawings at least had the decency to be finished before being thrown into the pile of forgotten scribbles.

Peeta. Her youngest boy. Weak like his father, sentimental, scared, soft. She was perhaps a little heavy on him growing up. She saw how very fragile he was when he was little. He wasn't like his brothers, Peeta was always an outsider. And she always saw that... So she doesn't even try to scold him for the mess in his house.

After he came back to the games she could only see in him the small, scared boy who always tried to hide under her skirt when he was young. And with that memory, comes all the times she pushed him away and told him to become a man. That a six-year-old boy shouldn't cry like a soft girl.

But Mrs. Mellark regrets nothing, even if the memories make her uncomfortable. Was because of that he won the Hunger Games. She taught him to endure, she turned the weak boy into a grown man. She never apologized for that, even though her son hates her forever.

She didn't visit him much in the victor's village, but one of the few times she did, Peeta thought she would fill him with complaints about the dirty house. But she just does said:

"It's not because you're crippled that you have to stay inside this house all day, go sunbathe and open the curtains." And then she left a fresh loaf of bread on the kitchen table and when home.

That was it.

One of the last interactions Peeta had with his mother before she died. Buried under the rubble of the bakery that she fought her entire life to maintain, with the children she raised to become respectable bakers. Men enough to take care of their wives and children. Everything she fought for her entire life was left in ashes and the only one of the boys left was the one she never thought would prosper.

Peeta misses her sometimes.

He thinks his eldest daughter looks like her grandmother a bit. Big blue eyes and dimples on her cheeks. He sometimes thinks he even forgives his mom, not all the time, but sometimes. Peeta misses her discipline and resilience. Sometimes he wants to hear her voice telling him to stop whining and come back with his head held high.

Perhaps the only lesson she taught him and stuck with him until the end is that the Mellarks never give up. Every morning, they wake up early, turn on the oven and work until sunset. That the Mellarks are never content with little, that they never accept mediocrity.

So he teaches his children to lift their heads after a defeat, to try again after they fail. Because The Mellarks never give up.