#He will still be hanging on Katniss’s every word and picturing

[thestarlightforge]

Thinking about the alternate world where Coryo stayed with Lucy Gray and chose reform, so eventually, they watched the 74th Games from a spotty Covey TV in the Seam. And his heart broke in a whole different way when Katniss whistled in the arena, when she sang to Rue—gave the 3-finger solute to the camera, and the Mockingjays picked up her tune. Not watching from a plush leather throne in the Capitol, grinding his teeth at the beasts he most associated with his ruin. But nonetheless, an obsession.

Because he still knew exactly what that would do, the fire it would spark in the Districts. Lucy Gray did, too. He’d be changed politically by Twelve, guided in better directions, but his core would be the same—knowing the power of Panem, wanting to protect his family. So when she sang, all at once, his heart shattered with love for her—his clueless fireball girl, who knows not what she’s starting—and then cold crept through him, prickling and tensing his old back in a cold sweat. Because their little songbird just painted a target on her back.

[theartofdreaming1]

Here is my attempt at portraying Peeta’s camouflage skills convincingly 😅😅

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and random thoughts on chapters 19-21 are below the cut.

heart

While I love all the banter between Katniss and Peeta, I think my favorite of these three chapters is: “Trust me. Killing things is much easier than this,” I say. “Although for all I know, I am killing you.” “Can you speed it up a little?” he asks. “No. Shut up and eat your pears,” I say. A classic 😄

mind

I always imagined that Cato went after Thresh before coming for Katniss and Peeta because a) Thresh took the backpack for District 2 (which contained the body armor that would make dealing with Katniss’s arrow so much easier) and b) Thresh killed Clove and Cato wanted to avenge her... Although I have no idea how Cato ended up killing Thresh... he was doing pretty well for himself in his grass-y area... Maybe the Gamemakers wanted to punish Thresh for not killing Katniss and generated that thunderstorm and rain to force Thresh out of his refuge, which would give Cato a fair chance to kill him, I guess...

soul

Lol, honestly, since Peeta just generally seems to be motivated by kindness and love/caring, I don’t think it took much for him to keep the star-crossed lovers angle alive (I could easily imagine him actually noticing Katniss in the willow tree early in the Games and offering to take care of the District 8 girl, so the Careers would get the hell out of there, away from Katniss)

Chapter 19:

Peeta, who’s been wounded, is now my ally. [...] I’d loathe any tribute who didn’t immediately ally with their district partner. Besides, it just makes sense to protect each other. - Honestly, this just highlights what a kind person Katniss is, despite her aloof front; her innermost instinct is always to stick together and to protect. Because it doesn’t really make sense for her to team up with Peeta - she knows he’s wounded and won’t be of much help to her, her chances of survival are way better if she stayed on her own, but it’s not something she’d ever consider now that they are allowed to form a team (and only then does she even factor in the whole ‘star-crossed lovers of district 12′ -angle)

Peeta, it turns out, has never been a danger to me. The thought makes me smile. - Aww 😊 (but also, how heart-breaking that the Capitol will do everything in their power to change that, to make Peeta become a danger to Katniss 😢)

He’s very hard to predict, which might be interesting under different circumstances - Okay, but this just makes me think of that exchange in Gilmore Girls when Paris and Rory talk about how you know a guy is right for you:  “Someone who’s compatible but not compatible.” “Yeah, kind of. I mean, you respect each other’s opinions and you can laugh at the same jokes, but I don’t know – there’s just something about not quite knowing what the other person’s gonna do at all times that’s just really exciting.” - fits these two to a T 😏

In fact, I’ve just about decided I’m on the wrong track entirely, that a wounded boy would be unable to navigate getting to and from this water source, when I see the bloody streak - Okay, but how flipping tough is Peeta?! He’s severely injured, with multiple tracker jacker stings and he drags himself to this terrain that is almost impossible to navigate for someone in his condition - a sturdy dandelion, indeed!

“You’re here to finish me off, sweetheart?” - What an entrance after having gone AWOL for quite a couple of chapters 👌🏼👏🏼

“Remember, we’re madly in love, so it’s all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it.” I jerk my head back but end up laughing. “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.” [...] “Katniss?” Peeta says. I meet his eyes, knowing my face must be some shade of green. He mouths the words “How about that kiss?” I burst out laughing - He’s lying in a river bed, slowly dying, and he can still make her laugh 😊

“You know, you’re kind of squeamish for such a lethal person” - It’s such a small comment, but I can’t help but think that Peeta is just kind of intrigued to discover all these little idiosyncrasies that make up the ever-elusive Katniss Everdeen ;)

Impulsively, I lean forward and kiss him, stopping his words. -  Aww, she doesn’t even want to consider him dying, so she spontaneously decides to cut him off with a kiss👀👀 Honestly, at this point Peeta has elicited 2 (!) spontaneous kisses  (the kiss after the chariot ride and this one) from Katniss, who generally isn’t that big on touching people

“You’re not going to die. I forbid it. All right?” - Stubborn, protective Katniss... But also reminds me of their rooftop “date” in CF and the “Then you’ll allow it?” “I’ll allow it” - exchange

I kiss him awake, which seems to startle him. Then he smiles as if he’d be happy to lie there gazing at me forever. He’s great at this stuff. - KaTNisSs, gurl... 🙄🤦🏼‍♀️

Chapter 20:

But I knew he was injured. And still I came after him. I’m just going to have to trust whatever instinct sent me to find him was a good one. - The very best of instincts, Katniss, don’t you worry😉

Peeta’s struggling to get up when I reach the cave. “I woke up and you were gone,” he says, “I was worried about you.” - Gah, why are the both of them so good?! They just care for and worry about each other 24/7

“How do you feel?” “Better than yesterday. This is an enormous improvement over the mud,” he says. “Clean clothes and medicine and a sleeping bag... and you.” Oh right, the whole romance thing. - Oh Katniss...😐 I reach out to touch his cheek and he catches my hand and presses it against his lips. I remember my father doing this very thing to my mother and I wonder where Peeta picked it up. - Where did Peeta pick this up? From a time his family was less dysfunctional? Observing couples in the town square? Or is he a fricking disney prince and these things come natural to him? Questions, questions...

“You didn’t sleep,” Peeta says. “I’m all right,” I say. But the truth is, I’m exhausted. “Sleep now. I’ll keep watch.” [...] I test his cheek. Hot as a coal stove. He claims he’s been drinking, but the containers still feel full to me. I give him more fever pills and stand over him while he drinks first one, then a second quart of water. - These two are just too stubborn to take proper care of themselves - good thing that each of them is adamant to force the other to sleep/drink/eat when necessary

“Besides I like watching you sleep. You don’t scowl. Improves your looks a lot.” - When presented with the choice of being flirty vs being a cheeky little shit, Peeta will choose being a flirty cheeky little shit every time 😂

“I’m going to make soup,” I say. “Don’t light a fire,” he says. “It’s not worth it.” - Okay, but what he’s actually saying is “I’m not worth it” 😭😭

Katniss telling that story about buying Prim’s goat😊... A young buck, probably a yearling by his size. His antlers were just growing in, still small and coated in velvet. [...] Beautiful. - We are all very much aware of Peeta’s appreciation for beauty, but the same does apply to Katniss, too (she’s just overall more pragmatic)

“Was it [the goat] still wearing the pink ribbon?″ he asks. “I think so,” I say. “Why?” “I’m just trying to get a picture,” he says thoughtfully. -  Peeta is so detail-oriented! I have this theory that this is actually something that enables him to overcome his hijacking; we catch glimpses in MJ of how he inches himself out of his condition by asking/focusing on small details or things most people would dismiss as trivial (Katniss’s favorite color, the color of her dress visiting District 7, her Dad singing the Hanging Tree when Peeta was 6 or 7 years old...) and I feel like it makes a lot of sense - his tormentors in the Capitol either wouldn’t have access to distort these moments or not even consider them to have any significance (since they are all about big, flashy gestures in the Capitol), so these memories would remain untouched. Luckily, Peeta seems to live by Robert Brault’s words: “Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things. “

“Really? What did you cost me again?” I ask. “A lot of trouble. Don’t worry. You’ll get it all back,” he says. - Well, he’s going to cost her a lot more trouble in the future - but we know he’s going to make up for it and bring her much happiness, too 😊

“You’re not risking your life for me.” “Who said I was?” I say. [...] “Of course I’m not going.” [...] “You’re such a bad liar, Karniss.” [...] Anger flushes my face. “All right, I am going, and you can’t stop me!” “I can follow you. At least partway. I may not make it to the Cornucopia, but if I’m yelling your name I bet someone can find me. And then I’ll be dead for sure,” he says. - Soo.. their love language is offering to sacrifice their life like it’s nothing, huh?! 😳😅 

Peeta eats without complaint, even scraping out the pot to show his enthusiasm. He rambles on about how delicious it is, - lol, sounds like a husband trying to get back on his wife’s good side after they had a row 😂

I clamp my hand over his mouth and nose hard, forcing him to swallow instead of spit. He tries to make himself vomit the stuff up, but it’s too late, he’s already losing consciousness. - Ah, the most important indicator of true love: having person A force-feed person B a sedative so they can run off to get them life-saving medicine ;)

Chapter 21:

I lie next to Peeta in the bag, trying to absorb every bit of his fever heat. It’s strange to be so physically close to someone who’s so distant. Peeta might as well be back in the Capitol, - Reminds me how in MJ she’s going to be so close to Peeta (mentally/emotionally) while he will be physically so distant (in the Capitol!)

a tiny orange one [backpack] [...] that must be marked with a 12 - Interesting how that backpack is orange, huh? Why is that? Are smaller backpacks generally orange (like the one Katniss already has) to be more visible or is this simply to connect the backpack to Peeta (though we don’t know his favorite color at this point)? Do the Gamemakers care whether Katniss gets a matching backpack? It just seems like an unnecessary detail to throw in🤔

The table has just clicked into place when a figure darts out of the Cornucopia, snags the green backpack, and speeds off. Foxface! - Honestly, this was a truly brilliant move; kudos! 👏🏼

[Clove] carefully selects an almost dainty-looking number [knife] with a cruel, curved blade. “I promised Cato if he let me have you, I’d give the audience a good show.” [...] “I think...” she almost purrs. “I think we’ll start with your mouth.” [...] she teasingly traces the outline of my lips with the tip of the blade. - Okay, but the idea of Clove cutting off Katniss’s lips is just all kinds of terrifying and disturbing 😨

“No! No, I-” Clove sees the stone, about the size of a small loaf of bread in Thresh’s hand [...] Thresh brings the rock down hard against Clove’s temple. [...] and I know she’s a goner. - Interesting how Katniss describes that rock that basically saves her life (or at least kills her assailant) as bread-sized, huh? “Your district... they sent me bread. [...] Conflicting emotions cross Thresh’s face. He lowers the rock and points at me, almost accusingly. “Just this one time, I let you go. For the little girl.” - Katniss mentions the bread from District 11 as a proof of her alliance with Rue (and the recognition of D11) and Thresh spares her; bread keeps saving her life (while it keeps representing acts of kindness)

Cato kneels beside Clove, spear in hand, begging her to stay with him. - I appreciate this small, humanizing moment with Cato

The last thing I remember is an exquisitely beautiful green and silver moth landing on the curve of my wrist. - I don’t know much about North American insects (not that I know that much about European insects either - just recently came across a relatively rare moth on my walks that I had never seen or heard of before) - is Katniss describing a special/noteworthy species of moth? Or is this a more literary symbolism kind of moth? (Just looked up some symbolism meaning of moths: change/transformation, seeking light; power of regeneration in some Native American mythology, hmm...)

[hailbop1701]

25 Days of FicMas

December 17th prompt: Christmas shopping with a stranger (Modern AU)

Word Count: 2,154

Toy Shop Terror

Okay so this one is much lighter and fluffier than yesterday's prompt! They're not really together when shopping but this is what I came up with! I hope y'all like it!

-H❤🖖

Leonard McCoy ran a hand through his hair frantically; he was in the corner of a crowded toy store on Christmas eve looking for the “Harry Potter” section. Leonard marveled at how people were going completely insane over something their child will most likely play with for a week or two. Shaking his head he bobbed and weaved through the mass of angry, hurried customers keeping an eye for the isle he needed. Spotting the large sign Leonard ducked into the aisle to find it torn apart, “oh these poor workers,” he muttered eyes wide. Toys and merchandise lay scattered over the almost barren shelves and littered the floor. Stepping over large cardboard boxes that once held said merchandise Leonard groaned in frustration, “damnit!” he cursed, voice a deep growl. A loud shriek made him quickly lookup; he saw a pretty young woman stumble into the aisle clutching onto a stuffed panda bear like it was a lifeline, “same to you pal!” you shouted flipping off the man that shoved you out of the way. The gesture was reciprocated. Scowling you examined the bear carefully, searching for rips or tears. When you felt it was in okay condition you finally looked up to see him there with an amused expression on his face. “Some people,” you chuckled nervously, waving the bear around. You took note of the shelves Leonard was standing in front of and winced sympathetically. “Oh, Harry Potter that's tough, I’m sorry,” you grimaced at the state of things; Leonard huffed in agreement, “my daughter has been begging for the books for a while and I’ve been looking everywhere for the box set,” he muttered hand going through his already messed up hair again. 

“Well I wish you the best of luck, god knows you’re gonna need it,” you said with a dry laugh. You looked around, clearing your throat you bit your lip, “have uh you seen the electronic section?” Leonard raised an eyebrow and pointed a thumb toward the back of the store, his own look of sympathy crossing his face. “Fuck, okay. Stupid drone is gonna be the death of me. Good luck and may the odds ever be in your favor, wait wrong series…” you trailed off scrunching up your face in thought. Leonard couldn’t help but chuckle at your antics; giving him a cheeky smile you gave him a two-fingered salute and dove back into the crowd.  ‘What a strange woman,’ he thought with a crooked smile.

Sighing Leonard looked back at the barren shelves with slumped shoulders, “Maybe I should look for something else,” he murmured almost missing the sound of his phone ringing. Pulling the object Leonard looked at the caller ID, “I can’t talk now Jim,” he answered pressing a finger to his opposite ear. A faint voice whined from the other end of the call, “no I haven’t found it yet and I honestly don’t think I will. I knew I should have just ordered it off of-no, and no you can’t, that’s-I don’t care. Jim as your best friend I advise you that hitting on my sister is bad for your health," Leonard hung up the call and swiftly inserted himself into the crowd of shoppers. 

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

You bit your lip as you precariously balanced on some empty shelves hoping to peek over the throng of people. Your hunt for the drone your nephew had been begging for all year was nowhere to be found. Scanning over the crowd with a deep scowl on your face something caught your eye, a much older looking woman clutched three distinct green boxes to her chest. “Oh not today Brenda,” you growled the image of the cute forlorn father popping into your mind. You smirked at the thought of the guy, ‘I’m allowed. He had no ring…' your mind wandered as you pushed and shoved your way through shoppers. Scooping up an opened ‘Nerf Gun’ you cocked it and fired. The foam bullets bounced off of the woman’s head causing her to turn every which way. She screamed startled when one stuck itself to her coke bottle glasses. While she was distracted you slipped past sneakily grabbing one of the boxes from her stack. “Manager!” you heard her howl, glancing over your shoulder you grinned as no one bothered to give her a second glance. Whistling you tossed the plastic gun into a bin and held the box of books to your chest with the panda bear for your baby niece hanging from your fingers. “Now where is Mr. cute butt at…” you hummed thoughtfully. 

Meanwhile, on the other side of the store, McCoy stared at a mass of stuffed animals and to his complete amazement, a pristine box holding a remote control drone sat amongst the bears, unicorns, and oddly enough poop pillows. Blinking he picked up the box, his mind drifting back to you. “Hold on to that tight man, last one!” an employee called to him as he passed. Holding the box closer Leonard eyed the people watching with envy as he walked by, “Alright darlin’ maybe I didn’t get what I came here for but that doesn’t mean you have to suffer,” he drawled searching for you in every aisle. Not looking where he was going he slammed into something small, it squeaked indignantly and he quickly grabbed the person steadying them. “Hey!” you both exclaimed with wide smiles. 

You held up the Harry Potter box set proudly and Leonard practically sagged in relief, “did you-how-” he laughed in shock. You chuckled looking mildly guilty, “don’t ask and you won’t be implicated,” you whispered which made Leonard raise a single eyebrow. Instead of commenting, he held up the drone you were searching for, making you squeal in delight. You bounced on your feet as you exchanged items, “Thank you!” you gasped looking at the drone eyes sparkling, “My nephew is gonna die!” thinking for a second you held out your hand, “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” 

Leonard couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he grasped your tiny hand in his much bigger one, “Leonard McCoy, at your service ma’am.” he replied smoothly. Happening to glance over Leonard’s shoulder you spotted the ‘Harry Potter’ hoarder from earlier nerf bullet still stuck to her glasses. Blanching you clutched onto Leonards’s hand tighter before turning around and running off pulling the confused man behind you, “move it McCoy unless you want to give up the books!” you yelped shoving people out of the way. Leonard was suddenly ahead of you now pulling you easily through the hoard of people toward the check out area. You stumbled a few times with him being a bit taller and faster than you, “whoa cowboy!” 

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

“I can’t believe you did that to get this,” Leonard barked out laughing, his shoulders shook as he sat across from you. You snickered munching on a french fry, “she had like three. I did her a favor those books were like a hundred and fifty a pop,” you muttered picking up your soda glass. Leonard smirked, “believe me darlin’ I know,” he huffed with a shake of his head. “Your daughter is lucky to have a dad like you,” you beamed at him picking up another fry from the basket you both were sharing. “I mean not many parents would be in a toy store on Christmas eve,” you said with a smirk. Leonard looked out the window of the little diner you had ducked into. Red tinted his cheeks and the tops of his ears, he shrugged after a minute, “She’s my world, there isn’t a lot I wouldn’t do for her,” he said looking back at you. He grabbed a french fry, “You visiting Georgia for the Holidays?” he inquired popping the potato into his mouth. Taking a sip of soda you nodded, “Yeah though not for long. I’ll be moving here pretty soon,” you grinned. “Oh really, where are you comin’ from?” Leonard asked eyes lighting up thrilled at the prospect of you living in Georgia, “Seattle, I’m a paramedic,” you said with a smile. 

The conversation flowed easily; jumping from topic to topic. Leonard talked about how he was a doctor at Atlanta General and then you told him about the adventures from your profession. It would have flowed endlessly but the waitress walked over to your table saying that they were closing up soon; she smiled prettily at Leonard hoping he would take notice but he simply gave her a polite smile and paid for the meal. 

Once the bill was paid and a generous tip was left Leonard helped you into your jacket. He grabbed both your bags and he shot down your protests. Walking to the door you were about to open it when he beat you to it. “And they said chivalry is dead,” you murmured with a crooked smile. “Sweetheart my momma would kill me if I didn’t treat you like a lady,” McCoy flirted as he walked you to your car. "Your mom is a smart woman," you chuckled. You took the shopping bags from Leonard and stowed them away into the trunk of your rental, turning you held out your hand “Lemme see your phone,” you giggled when he gave a confused look. He wordlessly handed it to you and watched as you added your number to his contact information. Taking a picture of yourself you saved it as one of his favorites before giving it back. “There now you can get ahold of me, you know in case you need help getting the Hunger Games or something. Though I don’t think the Brenda's of the world would appreciate it,” you grinned. Leonard snorted a laugh as he pocketed his phone again, “Okay Katniss,” he sassed opening your car door. Your grin grew bigger, “Doctor I am impressed,” you gasped placing a hand over your heart dramatically. McCoy’s laugh echoed across the almost empty parking lot; getting in the car you shut the door and started the engine quickly so you could roll down the window. “Well my girl likes books so I’ve been kept up to date on her latest favorites,” he said leaning down resting his forearm just above the window. “She sounds like an amazing girl,” you whispered with a soft smile, Leonard’s dark hazel eyes twinkled in the street light you were parked under. “She truly is,” he murmured back. The air became thick and full of something you couldn’t place, Leonard cleared his throat leaning back. “You should get going, your family is going to worry,” he sighed not wanting to see you go. Your smile turned sad, “Yeah my brother will have a fit,” you agreed, glaring at the car's dash clock. You said your "Goodbyes" and you were soon on your way back to your brother’s home with a lot of things on your mind; a handsome doctor being one of them. 

The very next day you sat on your bedroom floor with a slew of presents waiting to be wrapped. Grumbling to yourself you struggled and fought with the wrapping paper, “Fold damnit!” you growled, voice muffled by the disposable tape dispenser in between your teeth. Your phone began to vibrate on the floor causing it to skitter in place, cursing you held the paper in place with one hand while the other grabbed the device. “H’lo,” your voice was muffled again. Rolling your eyes at your own stupidity you spat out the tape and tried again, “hello?” there was a deep chuckle from the other end. “(Y/N) it’s Leonard,” you sat up straighter a smile spreading across your face. “Len hey!” you greeted voice light, “I was wondering what your plans are for New Year’s Eve?” Leonard asked sounding nervous. ‘My god he’s adorable,’ you thought dreamily, “I’m not doing much just packing to head back to Seattle so I can then pack again to head back here,” you chuckled and facepalmed due to your ‘lameness,’ 

“I was uh- wonderin’ if you’d like to spend the day with me?” he asked making you scream internally, “Yeah I would love to,” you said hoping to not sound desperate. You heard a whispered voice in the background, “awesome Bones!” it said encouragingly. You bit your lip to keep from snickering. “I- uh that’s great! I’ll message you the details in a little bit!” Leonard said clearly smiling. “Daddy, can you help me with my braid?” the voice of a little girl hit your ear.  ‘That must be Joanna,’ your heart warmed, “I have to go but I’ll talk to you soon,” Leonard promised lowly making you chuckle. “Okay Len, talk to you then,” you set your phone down and took a deep breath. “I think I’m going to really like it here,” you murmured to the butterflies fluttering around in your chest and stomach. 

Tags:

@thottiewithashotgun

@lauraaan182

@writerdee1701

@dw-writes

@marvelouslytrekking

@spenceneedsahug

[jlalafics]

“I loved you first”-an Everlark fic

This prompt was requested by @b-boop5. Thanks love!

5. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

Summary: There are divorced couples. Then, there are Katniss and Peeta Mellark.

I loved you first

Johanna Mason looked around the high school field, lined with rows of plastic chairs. In front of her stood two middle-aged women, dressed in their ceremony best, looking over the crowd gathering for the graduation.

“I didn’t have a chance to look over my program, but who is the Valedictorian?” one woman asked.

“It’s the Mellark girl—Adeline,” the other woman responded. “She’s heading to Stanford this Fall, you know.”

“I’m not really familiar with her…I don’t think that she and Katie really hang out.”

“Oh—everyone knows about the Mellarks.” Johanna moved in closer, grimacing at the woman’s overwhelming floral perfume. “Adeline’s parents were practically teenagers when they had her. They stay together long enough to have Adeline’s younger brother before getting divorced.”

“So, they’re what? In their thirties?”

“About that. Katniss, her mother, barely looks like she’s hitting her thirties. She owns that cute little boutique downtown.”

“And, the Dad?”

“Oh God—Peeta Mellark. A delicious specimen of a man. He’s the CEO of Mellark Bakery; his family started it from a small, mom-and-pop bakery and he turned it into a franchise. Now, they’re all over the country.”

Johanna was suddenly blinded as two hands covered her eyes. She smelled the faint scent of sugar and watercolor paints.

“You’re messing up my makeup, Luke,” she warned.

Whirling around, Johanna beamed at a gangly blond, grinning at her.

“Aunt Johanna!” Luke wrapped his arms around her. “You came!”

“Of course.” She embraced her nephew tightly. “Where’s your mother?”

“Her and Dad are heading down,” Luke informed her. “They’re deciding which restaurant to go to for Grandma’s birthday next weekend.”

“There they are,” the gossiping woman suddenly said. “Peeta and Katniss Mellark. The perfect exes.”

“Are you sure? They looked like they’re still into each other.”

Luke and Johanna locked eyes; the young boy rolling his at the two women being not-so-discreet.

“They’ve been that way for years. Every PTA meeting or school event, they’re together and usually talking amongst themselves, his arm around her shoulders and her leaning against him, just like now—here they come!”

“Johanna!” Katniss pulled away from her ex to rush into the woman’s arms. “I’m so glad you came!”

“I wouldn’t miss AJ’s graduation for anything,” Johanna replied. “And, how is my favorite ex-cousin doing?” She looked to the man talking to her nephew. “Hey, asshole.”

Peeta grinned at her. “Hello to you too, Johanna.”

“How are you enjoying Panem so far?” Katniss asked her.

Johanna looked to the shocked women, both red with embarrassment. She gave them a wink.

“It’s been illuminating.”

++++++

“Apparently, you and Peeta, are the ‘It’ couple when it comes to divorces,” Johanna informed the two as they found their seats.

“Are we?” Katniss looked to her ex-husband with a smile. “Did you hear that, Peeta? We’re the cool divorcees.”

Peeta snorted. “Don’t these people have anything else to talk about?” He sat next to Katniss, giving Luke the aisle seat so he could take pictures of his sister walking down towards the stage. His arm snaked over to the back of Katniss’ chair. “Sometimes I forget how small it is here.”

“Well, you two are freakishly close,” Johanna pointed out. “Probably more than most married couples.”

“It’s kinda true, parents,” Luke added as he played with the lens of his camera. “My friends are always surprised when I tell them you’re divorced.”

“Why are your friends so nosy, teenager?” Peeta asked.

“Because their parents ask.” Luke turned to them. “It’s not like I mind. I don’t really remember when you were together, but if it was the opposite of this, then I’m glad you’re divorced.”

“That’s very mature of you, sweetheart,” Katniss told their son.

Peeta smiled fondly at his ex-wife. “We made some smart children.”

She returned the gesture, her eyes on the handsome man. “All from me.”

He leaned towards her ear. “I don’t doubt that.”

Katniss trembled; even after all these years, Peeta always knew how to make her come undone. They had known one another since they were children, had fallen deeply in love when they were juniors in high school, and Katniss was pregnant by graduation.

They had tried to make it work.

The birth of Adeline had brought them even closer and they loved their daughter with all their hearts. However, the extra responsibility had been a lot on the young parents who both juggled work and college part-time.

Katniss and Peeta’s parents had rallied to help the two. Their families helped take care of the adorable cherub that Adeline was while they went to school. On the weekends, Peeta was at the Mellark Bakery, learning how to manage his parents’ business. Katniss would be at their apartment, textbooks on the kitchen table and their daughter in her arms.

They both graduated with business degrees.

Katniss was pregnant with Luke during their college ceremony.

By Luke’s first birthday, Peeta and Katniss could see the cracks in their relationship. Peeta had been spending less time at home, trying to bring Mellark Bakery up the corporate chain. Katniss was unsure what she wanted to do and had little time to think about it as she raised their two children.

Also, they both had tempers.

As the children slept, they argued, going to bed angry. Sometimes, one or both would be in tears.

By the time Luke was two and Adeline six, they had agreed to a divorce.

Katniss and Peeta sat their families down and told them that they would be separating but amicably. Katniss would have the home that they had bought together, and it would be where the children would live. Peeta would move into an apartment nearby and would have them on the weekends.

Their main priorities were Adeline and Luke. They wanted their children to grow up in a loving, supportive environment.

It was hard in the beginning; they still loved one another…but something changed. Maybe they had become too different or they had just grown apart.

Whatever caused their breakup hurt like hell.

They continued to push forward; Katniss eventually decided to open her boutique, Primrose—named after her younger sister. Peeta became a silent partner, helping her purchase the space, but mostly staying out of the way as a gesture of goodwill towards his ex-wife.

Now, Katniss could say with confidence that Peeta was one of her best friends and vice-versa.

They had dinners together with the kids—sometimes without them. She would go to the Mellark Home for Thanksgiving and Peeta would attend the annual Christmas party at her parents’ house.

They went to every recital, sports event, and even spelling bee together. The kids never felt neglected—at least she hoped they didn’t—and both parents had great relationships with Adeline and Luke.

“It’s starting!” Luke called out. He put the viewer of his camera to his eye as the strains of ‘Pomp and Circumstance’ began.

The navy-clad graduates were led by Haymitch Abernathy—Senior Class advisor and teacher—who held the school banner as he walked down the aisle to cheers and camera flashes.

He was followed by the Senior Student Council, each with white stoles denoting their roles.

Then, wearing gold stoles, were the Valedictorian and Salutatorian.

Adeline beamed excitedly, her long dark waves moving with her, as she walked down the aisle. Next to her, Evan Odair smiled, his cheeks red and his eyes caught on Katniss and Peeta’s beautiful daughter.

Adeline spotted her parents, waving excitedly, and flashing a peace sign as Luke took her picture.

Katniss took a deep breath, trying to keep her tears at bay. Sometimes, she still saw the little girl who would beg her to play tea party with her every afternoon.

Now, that little girl was getting ready to take on the world—and she wouldn’t need her mother anymore.

Peeta put an arm around her, pulling her side against his.

“She’s always going to need us, Katniss,” he assured her.

Katniss turned to him. “How did you know what I was thinking?”

Peeta reached, wiping the stray tear off her cheek, and giving her a sad smile.

“Because I know us,” he told her. “We all grew up together—you, me, Luke, and Addie. And, we’re never going to stop needing each other.”

Katniss nodded and he pressed a kissed to her temple.

Next to the exes, Johanna rolled her eyes.

Brainless, the both of them.

++++++

“Now, I would like to call up our Valedictorian—” Voluminous applause rang through the crowd along with some shouts from the rowdier seniors. “—an ambitious young woman who, besides maintaining a 4.0 GPA and taking all available AP classes, is the president of our youth volunteer club, one of our most popular tutors and a peer mediator. From personal experience, it has been an honor to have someone to debate with in class—” The crowd laugh at his words. “Ladies and gentlemen, Adeline Jane Mellark.”

The crowd was riotous as Adeline stepped onto the stage. She was always popular, though she never had a particular crowd that she hung out with. She went to prom with Evan—as friends—though Katniss believed that the boy next door had always wanted more.

However, Adeline had always been a free spirit.

She admitted to Katniss that she didn’t want to be tied down to anyone since she would be leaving for school—despite the cuteness of Evan’s smile.

Adeline stepped up to the podium, beaming at the crowd.

“Good afternoon, faculty members, families, and senior class,” she began. “My name is Adeline Jane Mellark. Most of you know me as AJ or, if you’re my Dad, Addie. I am supposed to be up here trying to inspire and give you advice for what comes next. However, I don’t think I could give you any advice as I’m in the same boat as the rest of you. I don’t know what’s coming next.”

Katniss leaned forward; her eyes trained on her daughter. Peeta sat in rapt attention, his own stare on their daughter.

“I can tell you that, whenever I’m not sure what to do, I think of my parents. You see, my mom and dad had me right after they graduated high school. They had to navigate going to college along with raising a child and by the time they graduated college, my brother came along. When I think about it, we grew up together.” Adeline smiled to herself. “We learned together.”

She met Katniss’ eyes.

“My mom taught me to always focus on what I want, to never back down, to fight for what I believe in.”

Peeta reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze.

“My Dad—” She heard Peeta’s breath hitch. “—taught me that there is good in everyone; that sometimes to get back on track all you need to do is look at a sunset, and to always have hope.”

She grinned.

“Mom, Dad…I just wanted to say that I’m proud to be your daughter. That, because of you, I am not afraid of what comes next. You both taught me lessons that I’m going to carry with me my whole life—that no matter what happens, I’ll always have a place to just be me.”

Adeline looked at her classmates.

“We’re always going to have each other. So, when you’re feeling lost or scared, think back to this moment—this is our place to be us. This great moment of excitement…fear…of endings…and beginnings—life is full of them. Enjoy them. It has been an honor to be part of this graduating class and I wish you all the best of luck in whatever comes next. Thank you and congratulations!”

The crowd was up on their feet and, over the sea of people, Adeline met her parents’ identical teary gazes to blow them both a kiss.

++++++

“You must be so proud, Peeta,” the woman…Karen—he wasn’t sure what her name was—said. “Adeline is so accomplished.”

In return, Peeta gave the woman a conciliatory smile. “Katniss and I are very proud of her.”

Beside him, Finnick and Annie Odair stifled their laughter at her obvious flirting in the middle of his own daughter’s graduation reception. The couple had been friends with the Mellarks since they moved into the neighborhood.

“It’s going to be awfully lonely for you now that Adeline’s going to be moving away,” she simpered.

“Not really. Our son is just entering high school. Katniss and I are sure we’ll have our hands full.”

“Luke is definitely a spitfire,” Finnick said. “But a hell of an artist.”

“He’s going to the fine arts high school, correct?” The woman frowned. “Do you think that’s the right path? The artist route isn’t very lucrative.”

“Well, it’s a damn good thing that Peeta and I care more about our children’s happiness than the amount of money they’ll make.” Katniss joined his side and gave the woman a cool smile. “Clarissa, we’re so glad you could join us.”

“Thank you for having us.” The woman looked around the house. “You have a beautiful home.” Her eyes suddenly darted behind them. “If you’ll excuse me.”

She was gone in a second.

“Clarissa! That was her name!” Peeta snapped his fingers, turning to his ex-wife. “This whole time I thought it was Karen.”

Katniss chuckled. “Please don’t tell me you called her Karen.”

“Peeta couldn’t get a word in,” Annie explained. “The woman had her sights on becoming the new Mrs. Mellark.”

“Many have tried, all have failed,” Peeta said. “Anyway, I’m not looking.”

“Why not?” Katniss questioned. “I was just too perfect, wasn’t I?”

He flashed her a smile. “We all didn’t find a Gale Hawthorne, did we?”

Peeta tried not to cringe saying the man’s name. Katniss had been dating him casually for six months, but he could tell that the man was set on making things official.

“Where is Prince Charming, anyway?” Finnick asked, his disdain obvious. Their friend had always believed that he and Katniss would eventually reunite. According to him, they had too much fire to be just friendly exes.

“Probably somewhere polishing his crown,” Peeta replied with a short laugh.

The look on Katniss’ face quickly cut him off. She looked disappointed.

“Peeta, you’re better than that,” she admonished softly. “Excuse me.”

Katniss walked away, heading upstairs, and his heart sank seeing the slump in her shoulders.

“What the fuck was that?” Annie asked, looking between the men.

“Truthfully, I think Gale is a douche,” her husband admitted. “I don’t know what the hell Peeta was on about—” Finnick looked to the downhearted man. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

Peeta glared. “Why would I be jealous?”

Finnick guffawed. “Because the man is probably pounding into your ex-wife who you’re still pining over.”

“Focus, you two!” Annie pushed Peeta forward. “You should probably talk to her.”

“I’m already on it.”

++++++

Katniss looked at herself in the bathroom mirror.

Why was she even upset about Peeta’s remark? It wasn’t like it was mean.

Truthfully, Gale was a little high on himself sometimes. He was successful, having his own real estate firm, and had taken her to some nice places.

While he didn’t make an effort to get to know Adeline or Luke, she hadn’t gone out of her way to encourage his involvement with her children either. They didn’t need another father figure.

Truthfully, Katniss kept him because he saw her as a woman—and not just a wife or mother.

There had been a point in her marriage to Peeta where they stopped seeing each other as people and started seeing one another as parents who just slept next to one another. It was hard to keep the romance alive when she always had a baby to her chest.

Their fights had been epic and an argument over which preschool Adeline would go to ended with a bout of angry sex against the doorway of their bedroom.

Then, she ended up pregnant with Luke.

One day, they looked wearily to one another and both realized it was over.

They had no fight in them left.

“Katniss?” Peeta stood at the bathroom doorway, guilt on his face. “You okay?”

Katniss turned to him, crossing her arms as she faced him. “I guess.”

“I didn’t mean it,” he told her.

“I just don’t want us to get to that point where we’re snipping at one another,” Katniss told him. She moved past him to walk into her bedroom and sat on her bed. “I hated that.”

Peeta joined her. “Me, too.” He sighed, giving her a doleful look. “I’m just not used to not being the number one man in your life.”

She knocked into his shoulder, a smile rising on her lips.

“Peeta…you know that Luke is number one.”

“I will concede to our son,” Peeta told her. “Addie is going out with her friends tonight and Luke is sleeping over at Christian’s house. They have a video game to conquer, apparently. Did you want to have dinner? Like a parents of the Valedictorian celebration? We can go to that Chinese place that we love—with the mu shu you like.”

Katniss gave him an apologetic smile.

“After the cleaning crew leaves, I’m having dinner with Gale tonight.”

Peeta nodded. “How about I stay while the crew cleans up and you two can go on your date earlier?”

She raised a brow. “You sure?”

He stood, holding out his hand. “Truce?”

Katniss took it, standing and giving him a hug, her nose pressing his shoulder. She always enjoyed his smell, that warm spiciness of his cologne. It was comforting yet it still made her heart skip a beat whenever it hit her nostrils.

“We better get downstairs,” she said into his shirt. “We have a speech to make.”

Peeta nodded, lifting her chin so he could look into her eyes. “We did it, Katniss.”

“What do you mean?”

They walked out of her bedroom and Katniss looped her arm through his as they headed down the hallway towards the stairs.

“Remember when she was first born? We were both so scared of screwing her up…but we didn’t,” he told her.

They descended the stairs, staring at one another.

“I remember. I was constantly snippy and wanting to call the doctor at every weird noise she made,” she replied. “And, you were always worried about dropping her or cursing in front of her!”

“I may have cursed once or twice. Much more around Luke—” Katniss snorted and he laughed. “Things get a little more relaxed with the second one!”

Katniss sighed. “True.” They stopped halfway down, and she turned to him. “I’m sorry if I ever took my parenting fears out on you. It probably contributed to a lot of our fights.”

Peeta shrugged. “I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. All those late nights at the office…”

“It’s all in the past now,” she interjected.

At the foot of the stairs, Adeline and Luke were talking to Evan and his parents. When she turned to look at them, their daughter hurried up the stairs with a bright smile on her face before wrapping her arms around her parents.

“Thanks, you two.” Adeline pulled away; her blue eyes glowing. “This is a great party and you did so much—”

“You deserve it,” Peeta told her tenderly.

“You’re our little girl,” Katniss said. “We always kind of knew we would be spoiling you!” Adeline giggled. “And, we are enormously proud. A bit braggy, too…”

“Aunt Johanna told me about those two women gossiping about you guys,” their daughter informed them quietly. “It makes sense, though. Their daughters are bitches.”

Peeta guffawed and Katniss raised a brow at their daughter’s words. That was thing about Adeline; she never pussyfooted. Like Katniss, she could be blunt when need be. However, she was naturally empathetic like Peeta.

“While I’d usually prefer that you didn’t curse, you’re eighteen so I can’t really stop you,” Katniss said.

“Thanks, Mom!” They made their way to the last three steps and Adeline went to a nearby server, who handed her two glasses of champagne. She walked over to them, handing them both a glass. “Good luck, you two.”

Stepping back, Adeline joined her brother and friend.

Katniss turned to Peeta, a nervous grin gracing her face. “Go on. You’re better with this than I am.”

He chuckled, leaning to kiss her cheek.

“You’re probably right.” She elbowed him, ignoring the heat rising on her face. “You’re really too easy to fluster.”

Peeta cleared his throat and Luke tapped the glass he was holding with a spoon to catch everyone���s attention.

“Thank you, Luke,” he told their son, who grinned back with a smile so much like his own. “Thank you all for attending this reception. Katniss and I would just like to say a few words about our daughter…”

++++++

“How did the graduation go?” Gale asked as he cut into his steak, his eyes focused on the slab of meat.

“It was wonderful,” Katniss replied. She reached for her fork to cut into her salmon. “I wish you could’ve come to the reception. You would’ve enjoyed it.”

“It’s not really my thing,” the man replied easily. “No one wants the boyfriend at the family party. Anyway, I already gave Adeline her graduation gift.”

Her daughter had smiled blankly as Gale handed her the two gift cards; one for Target for school supplies and the other one to get a full tank of gas for her Prius.

It wasn’t that her daughter was ungrateful; she admitted to Katniss that Gale seemed a little…cold towards her and Luke—as if he didn’t like them.

However, who wouldn’t adore Katniss’ children?

They were sweet and kind…

The man in front of her, however, looked a little overwhelmed whenever he was in their presence.

“Don’t you like your food?”

Katniss realized that she had yet to take a bite. She gave him a smile before putting a piece in her mouth.

“Delicious.” She swallowed before reaching for her wine glass. She definitely needed to discuss this issue about the children. “Listen—”

“I know what you’re going to say.” Gale placed his utensils down. “Now that Adeline is leaving for school, you’re looking into more time for us.” He gave her a tight smile. “It’s just that we’re getting into the summer and it’s our busiest time with parents trying to buy or rent places for their kids—”

“That wasn’t what I was going to talk to you about that,” she interrupted. “It’s that whenever you’re around my kids, you seem to be a little…aloof.”

Gale looked non-plussed. “I mean, they aren’t my kids. I don’t necessarily need to be obliged to care for them like I’m their father. They have one.”

“I know that and Peeta is a great one,” she explained. “But I thought we were serious in a sense where you’d want to get to know them.”

“Hmmm…maybe if we had our own child, I might have to open up to them.”

Katniss blanched—was she really dating this guy? This man who didn’t want to let her children into his life unless he saddled her with his own?

In that moment, Katniss saw a future where she would once again be changing diapers, waiting for a man who was never home.

Suddenly, she was standing up.

“You know what? I’m going to save you the trouble of having to open up to my children. Goodbye, Gale.”

She made her way toward the exit, but not before grabbing the bottle of wine she paid for from the ice bucket.

++++++

Stepping out of the taxi, Katniss looked up her home, comfort washing over her immediately.

This home was where she watched her children take their first steps…where she’d wait at the front door as they stepped off the school bus and into her arms…where Peeta had carried her over its threshold…

They had purchased the two-story colonial-style house after Luke was born with the help of their parents. Since then, they had repaid the loan tenfold and found comfort that their children had a place to go whenever they needed it.

Heading up the brick walkway, Katniss reached into her purse pulling out her key to unlock the door before stepping into the house.

Closing the door, she was surprised to smell the scent of…cookies.

Toeing off her shoes, Katniss headed towards the kitchen and was surprised to find Peeta pulling out a tray full of chocolate chip cookies—her favorite.

“What are you doing?” she asked from the open doorway.

“Thought that you and the kids would like a fresh batch whenever you got home,” her ex replied as he placed the tray on the counter. Peeta pulled the oven mitts off, tossing them beside the cookies. “You’re home early.”

“Dinner didn’t go so well,” she told him glumly. Katniss presented him with the wine bottle in her grasp. “At least I have a consolation gift—that I paid for.”

“Ouch,” Peeta replied. “Well…cookies are the perfect complement to wine.”

She nodded. “Do you remember where the bottle opener is?”

He went to the second drawer to the left of the counter, pulling out the well-loved gadget. “Always.”

++++++

“Do you remember how we used to stay up late to watch R-rated movies after the kids were asleep?” Peeta asked. “I swear there was one point where I wanted to murder The Wiggles.”

“You didn’t know?” Katniss reached to grab another cookie from the coffee table. “I put a hit on them. That’s why you never hear about them anymore.”

The soft glare of the television was the only light in the room. They had discovered an old romcom that was popular when they were teenagers and decided that it would go well with their late-night snack.

Peeta chuckled, sitting back on the couch. He had changed from his ceremony attire to a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that Katniss had found in her closet. She had also changed into a pair of pajamas while Peeta had set up cookies and wine in the living room.

“If anyone could murder them, it would be you,” Peeta replied. “What time is Addie getting home?”

“I told her midnight was her curfew while she lives here,” Katniss informed him. “Once she’s in college, we will have no say on when she gets home.”

“I’m dreading not knowing what she’s doing.” He turned to her. “Do you think she’s going to come home during the holidays?”

“If she doesn’t want me to go all the way to Stanford to drag her ass here, she will.” Peeta snorted at her words. “She’ll come home. It’s going to be lonely here without her though. Nobody to have mani-pedis with or talk about those stupid reality shows …”

Katniss found herself sniffing back tears. She swiped them away with the back of her hand.

“Ignore me. It’s the wine and ending the most useless relationship in history.”

Peeta waved her over to his side and she scooted in towards him, her head going to his shoulder. She tucked her feet underneath her bottom as he put an arm around her.

“Did you love him?” Peeta asked gently.

“No.” She closed her eyes, taking comfort in the warmth of him. “I’ve had my great love. I don’t need another…I just liked the feeling of someone making an effort to just be with me.”

“And, I wasn’t that way?” he replied tightly.

“Neither of us were making much effort towards the end.” Katniss looked up, seeing his eyes full of hurt. “It was no one’s fault. It just happened. I mean, we didn’t kiss each other anymore.”

“I should’ve kissed you more.” His hand reached to brush her chin and her body tingled, her lower half twisting in that familiar heat. “It was one of my favorite things to do.”

“Until it wasn’t.” Katniss swallowed harshly as she unfolded her legs. They were getting into dangerous territory. Reluctantly, she stood up. “I should clean up—”

Peeta suddenly grabbed her wrist and she stilled at the motion.

Standing, Peeta reached his arm around her waist, pulling her against him.

His other hand went to her cheek. “You’re always going to be my great love. You know that, right?”

Then, his lips were on hers.

Katniss fell easily into his kiss. She always did. Her arms circled his neck as she pressed against him, feeling her nipples tighten against the hard planes of his chest. Peeta’s hands moved down, palming at her ass and she groaned into his mouth, her tongue sweeping into his.

Peeta’s lips moved to her neck. “I forgot how good you tasted.” He sucked against the juncture and she mewled, the heat between her legs growing and her core throbbing. “Do you still taste this good everywhere else?”

“You can find out…later.”

Katniss guided him to sit on the couch as she pulled her unbuttoned her pajama top, shaking it off her quickly. Her breasts were in bare sight, nipples pebbled despite the heat in the room. Her pants were next, and she undid the drawstring before bending down to pull her bottoms down to the carpet.

Peeta stared up at her in awe. “You’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Katniss smiled softly as she placed her knees on both sides of his lap before straddling him. Her lips went to his in a gentle kiss.

“Have you been with anyone else recently?” she asked against his mouth.

Peeta shook his head. “It’s been a year…and it was only once.” He looked to her. “And Gale?

“Never. He hardly came over and I have never been to his apartment,” Katniss explained. “We mostly had dinner or went to shows that his company was sponsoring.”

Peeta tutted. “Shame.” His hands went to her waist. “Who wouldn’t love to be deep inside you?”

Her hand reached under the waistband of his bottoms, finding him hard. Her hand wrapped around him, stroking smoothly to get him ready. He hissed, his eyes closing and his hips following her motions.

“Please don’t make me come all over myself,” he begged. “I don’t think I’d forgive myself if I did.”

“We wouldn’t want that—” Katniss eagerly helped him pull his pants off, her eyes going immediately to his length, standing erect and the tip of it glistening. She missed his cock—or at least her pussy did, as it immediately pulsed at the sight of him. “—I don’t think either of us is going to last.”

His hand went between her thighs, pushing the cloth between aside to plunge two fingers into her sodden core.

“Damn, you’re wet.” His eyes traveled to meet hers as he slid the digits in and out of her before putting them into his mouth. “You taste even better than I remember.”

“I forgot how I loved the way you looked at me whenever we were together,” she told him, her hands hurriedly moving the last piece of cloth. “Like I was the only woman in the world.”

“To me, you are.”

Her eyes filled and she leaned down to give him another kiss before helping him remove his shirt.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” she admonished quietly.

Katniss looked over her ex-husband, familiarizing herself with his body once more. His chest and shoulders were broader and his abdomen firmer. However, there were other things that were the same; the scar on his shoulder from falling at the school playground and the feel of his strong thighs under her.

“Why not?” he asked her, his hand going to the nape of her neck.

He gently drew her down until their foreheads met and she looked into those blue eyes, dark with hunger. Her heart skipped at the intensity of his gaze and she remembered all over again how easy it was to fall in love with Peeta.

“Because this will be harder to forget,” she told him.

Peeta’s hand went to her hip, guiding her over him.

“I don’t want to forget.”

Then, in one motion, he was inside her.

++++++

“Katniss.”

She looked up from behind the register to find Gale standing before her.

“Hi. What are you doing here?” she asked, rounding the counter. “I haven’t heard from you in…”

“Two months,” he replied sheepishly. “Trust me, you don’t forget when a woman walks out on you at a restaurant.”

Katniss crossed her arms. “You kind of deserved it.”

“May I take you out to dinner to apologize?” Gale looked genuinely sorry for his behavior. “I miss you.”

“You don’t even know me,” she countered.

“Give me a chance—unless you’re seeing someone else.”

Her mind wandered to that night…that perfect night with Peeta.

She had forgotten how perfectly he fit inside her. Peeta had been her first and she was his. When they were younger, he had jokingly told her that her insides were perfectly molded to his cock—any other man’s would never fit exactly right.

And, it was true.

He continued to prove his theory a few more times before she insisted that he leave. It wouldn’t do any good for Adeline to see her father and mother reuniting carnally all over the living room couch.

They were still close, but they understood that it had been once and once only.

Even though the sight of him left her soaked.

Or that, occasionally, if Peeta was close enough to her, he would brush his hand against Katniss’ sending her hormones into overdrive.

She shook herself from her thoughts and looked to the man in front of her.

“There’s no one else,” she told him.

“Tonight? I’ll pick you up after closing.” Katniss nodded and Gale leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“See you then.”

Gale walked out of the store, heading towards the Mercedes parked in the front.

Katniss stretched, feeling an ache in her body. Lately, she had felt off. The stress of Adeline getting ready to leave and unexpected sex with her ex had left her feeling out of sorts.

Yesterday, she nearly tore Luke’s head off for leaving his muddy sneakers by the front door after soccer practice.

There was a beep on her phone, and she looked to find a text from Adeline: ‘Mom, you heading to a Target or a drug store after work?’

She typed back, ‘Wasn’t planning to. Do you need anything?’

‘Some Tylenol and tampons.’

‘Sure babe. I’ll see you later.’

Adeline’s cycle was very similar to her own; it came strong, leaving her sometimes unable to even move.

Katniss added soup to her list of things to grab after closing the store.

It always made them feel better during their periods—

Which she did not have, even though she and Adeline were usually in sync.

Katniss turned from the counter where a calendar featuring men with puppies was—no red circle marking the arrival of her period. She took the calendar off its hook before looking at the previous month.

No red circle either.

Fuck.

Without fail, every graduation ended with her being pregnant with Peeta’s child.

FIN(?)

Really enjoyed writing this one, it would make a great four-parter. Thoughts?

[hutchhitched]

Maybe This Summer, Chapter 4

Summary: Katniss Everdeen needed a vacation. On a whim, she reserved three months at Panem Resorts in North Carolina. She expected to spend her time recovering from the recent death of her sister, exploring the nearby nature reserve, and reminiscing about happier times. What she didn’t foresee was bumping into Peeta Mellark, one of Panem’s most valued employees, during his early morning run. Neither did she think she’d grow to admire him when she’d hated him from first sight, but his killer smile and gorgeous blue eyes had a way of breaking down the walls she’d built around her heart. Maybe this summer she’ll finally get what she’s always deserved. Benefiting @fandomtrumpshate​ for @ldyglfr62​. AO3.

Author: @hutchhitched​

Rating: Explicit (eventually)

Beta/Graphics: @xerxia31​

The story will post on Tuesday mornings at 11:00 am CDT.

____________

The Plant Book

Katniss woke the next morning with a massive groan. She hurt all over, both from drinking way too much over an extended period of time and a little bit too much sun the day before.

 “You are not that young anymore, lady,” she scolded herself and rolled to her left. She grunted when a streak of light slashed across her eyes. She should have closed the blinds before going to bed last night. Instead, she’d been too excited by Peeta’s offer to help her with the plant book to think about much else. She’d fallen into bed with a huge smile on her face and absolutely nothing else gracing her small frame.

 A rapid knock forced her out of bed long before she wanted to rise. She grabbed her robe from the chair where she’d thrown it the night before and flung open the door. A redhead with a smattering of freckles on his cheeks stood on her porch, flushing and shifting from side to side.

 “Katniss Everdeen?”

 “Yes.”

 “My name’s Darius, ma’am, and I have your morning basket.”

 “Morning basket?”

 “Yes. It has all your pastries, breads, and other breakfast goodies inside. Most are still warm.”

 “Oh, thank you…”

 “Darius. Yes, ma’am.”

 “Darius?” Katniss couldn’t help but grin as she realized why that name sounded familiar. This must be the young thing Jo had snagged for her annual conquest. He was good-looking and earnest, and Katniss could certainly understand the appeal. He looked like he’d do anything for her if she only asked.

 “That’s right, ma’am. Enjoy!”

 “Thanks!” she called to his retreating back. He wasn’t in any mood to stick around if the speed of his exit was any indication. With a puzzled grin, she glanced inside the basket and found a note along with a variety dozen of baked items.

 Thought you could use these this morning after the day you had yesterday.

“Thanks, Jo,” she murmured and tossed it on the table. She started the coffee machine and poked through the basket to see what kind of treats she’d received. A breakfast of caffeine and carbohydrates fortified her, and she spent the rest of the morning going over several articles in a biology journal on the back deck. The view of the sand on her private beach and the sound of blue water lapping lightly against the shore calmed her. The soft rustle of leaves in the breeze completed the trifecta of everything she loved in nature.

 She was looking forward to working with Peeta that afternoon. Despite the tension of their first meeting, Katniss had to admit that the young man was kind, considerate, and thoughtful. His apology demonstrated his integrity. There was something about him that appealed to her, and she wanted to discover a little bit more about what it was that spoke to her.

 Eager to get to work, Katniss fixed a quick snack for lunch and then spent the early afternoon preparing and organizing her samples and jotting down notes. Then she checked her appearance in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom. She changed from the robe she’d been wearing to a pair of khaki shorts and t-shirt. Unsatisfied, she then switched to a sundress. She didn’t allow herself to analyze her actions or the ball of apprehension in her stomach. Instead, she worked to convince herself that the plant book was the only thing on her mind.

 “He’s just being helpful,” she insisted as she wrung her hands. “I’m just accepting help from someone with a service to provide.”

 Sure. That’s what he’s doing.

Katniss startled at her sister’s voice in her head. “Be quiet, Prim.”

 You don’t mean that.

“No, I don’t,” Katniss admitted. “I miss you. We’d have so much fun if you were here with me this summer.”

 I think maybe I’d put a damper on your style. It’s not very sexy having a younger sibling hanging around when you’re trying to get it on with a hunky stud.

“You did not just say ‘hunky stud.’ Prim, that’s terrible,” Katniss laughed softly.

 What else should I call them? I didn’t ever date, remember? Too busy going to school and then being sick and dying. Some of us didn’t have men falling all over us our whole lives.

“I think you’re confusing the two of us, Little Duck. Men always fawned over you. You just had no idea.”

 I had an idea. I was just too busy watching you wander through life ambivalent about how you enticed the opposite sex. You have no idea the effect you have.

Katniss snorted. “Stop.”

 It’s time to stop running, Big Sister. You deserve to be happy.

 “I don’t.”

 Then maybe it’s time you got something you don’t deserve at all.

 “Maybe,” Katniss whispered into the sudden silence. With a sad smile, she registered the empty room. Prim wasn’t really there. She was talking to a ghost. As a scientist, she didn’t believe in communication with spirits or telepathy or whatever the word was for connecting with those in another realm—if there even was one of those. But sometimes… So often, she wished her sister were really there, in any form that allowed them to stay connected.

 A knock sounded outside, and she glanced that way. In her melancholy state, she’d almost forgotten that she’d made plans to spend time with a live person, one of human flesh and bones instead of a voice in her head.

 “Maybe, but I don’t think so. Not with him anyway,” she mumbled and tossed her head. Plastering a smile on her face, she crossed to the door and opened it.

____________

 Peeta shifted a box of art supplies into his left arm and rapped on the door of Cabin 12. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him last night to offer Katniss his help, but he’d spent the better part of the day regretting his proposal. He hadn’t slept well, mostly because every time he closed his eyes, an image of her body in that bikini flashed in his mind.

 His hands itched when he thought about the way her skin would feel under his palms, and he didn’t need that distraction if he was going to be spending hours alone with her in a cabin. One that had a bed. A bed that she’d filled only slightly when he tucked her under the blankets in nothing but a robe she’d removed as soon as she was covered. It had taken every speck of control he had to pick her discarded robe from the floor, drape it over a chair, and leave the cabin when what he’d wanted to do was climb into bed with her.

“Keep it in your pants, man.”

 The door swung open, and the smile on her face faltered slightly. She looked fragile and tired, and he had a sudden urge to brush the loose lock of hair behind her ear. When she motioned him inside, he took care to step past her without touching her in case his body reacted to her without his permission.

 “Thanks for coming,” she offered as a greeting, and he had to force himself not to let his mind wander to innuendo.

 “Happy to help. Where would you like to work?”

 She motioned to the kitchen where piles of samples and several notebooks littered the countertop. “I thought maybe we could use the table. We’ll have easy access to the plants and everything else we need that way, and the light is pretty good here. I assume that’s important for drawing?”

 “It doesn’t hurt,” he said kindly and dropped his supplies on the table. She was being careful with him, and he didn’t want to startle her. She reminded him of a deer in the woods—alert and ready to flee at a moment’s notice. She had no reason to fear him. He had no intentions other than drawing some pretty pictures for her. It was clear she didn’t want to get too close, and he didn’t plan on pushing the issue.

 “I’m not sure how this works,” she admitted as she crossed the room. Her movement effectively placed the table between them, and he realized he was going to have to do some damage control in order to put her at ease. She needed to trust him if this project was going to happen.

 “Why don’t you give me a little more information about what you’d like to do, and we can see where the afternoon takes us.”

 He noticed the subtle shift in her confidence as she crossed to the countertop and began explaining her vision. Her voice deepened and grew stronger as she described the categories and uses of each grouping of plants, the tension in her shoulders eased, and her hands arched into graceful positions that highlighted her femininity.

 When it was clear she felt in control, he joined her and leaned on his elbows. Listening to her continued explanations, he enjoyed the way her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm and the clean scent of her skin when he leaned toward her. There was no hint of heavy perfume. Today, she smelled of fresh air and soap instead of sunscreen and alcohol as she had due to her afternoon with Johanna. At one point, he pointed to a specific stack of leaves, and her hand brushed his forearm when she answered his question. After almost an hour, she seemed completely in control, so he stopped her.

 “I think I have a good idea of your vision,” he said. “Why don’t we start with wildflowers today? I’ll just sit here, and you…” He held out the chair next to where he planned to sit. When she slid into it, he suppressed a sigh of relief and joined her at the table.

____________  

 Finnick slid his lips from his fiancée’s cheek to her neck. She giggled when he nibbled and then bit her gently.

 “Finn, stop,” she laughed and slapped his hands away from her skirt. Insistent, he cupped her behind and hitched her leg over his hip. “Finnick, we’re too exposed. Stop…”

 “You don’t want me to stop,” he grunted and pushed her backward against the sturdy trunk of an oak tree.

 Annie whimpered against him, and he had every intention of burying himself in her when a sultry voice from behind them purred, “I always love the entertainment opportunities at Panem. I didn’t know sex shows were on the schedule this year.”

 Clove and Cato emerged from a pocket of trees just on the other side of the clearing, and Finnick shielded Annie as she scrambled to straighten herself. He tugged his shirt lower to hide his arousal, but he could feel Clove’s eyes burning through the fabric. He felt absolutely violated by the heat of her gaze.

 Cato laughed and tugged Clove against him. “How about we make one of our own?” he suggested and made a vulgar gesture that infuriated Finnick. “I’ve always wanted to be a porn star, and you’ve got the best tits.”

 Clove grinned up at his face and pressed herself against him so tightly, there wasn’t room for anything but the tiniest sliver of air. She flashed a triumphant smile at the couple and tugged Cato further into the woods. It wasn’t long before sounds that were decidedly not natural echoed from where they’d gone.

 “Cato’s such a sick fuck,” Finnick hissed and turned to check on Annie. “Are you okay, sweetheart? I’m so sorry.”

 Annie’s green eyes welled with tears. Her red hair tumbled over her trembling shoulders, and she shook as his arms closed around her. He knew she was more embarrassed than anything, but it hurt him deeply to think about the woman he loved in any type of pain. He vowed by the end of the summer to make Cato pay.

 Several minutes later, Annie seemed under control, and Cato and Clove had either finished or moved further away and could no longer be heard. He tucked his arm around her and started to move but froze as he recognized the sound of someone else tromping toward them.

 “What the hell? Is this some sort of damn frolic nobody told me about?” Finnick cursed under his breath and ducked behind the tree to hide.

 “You know I can see you, Finn,” Peeta called across the cove. “What are you doing out here? You weren’t— Oh, God. I’ll leave you alone.”

 Disgusted, Finnick answered, “It wasn’t us, you moron. I’m not that much of an exhibitionist. Well, not with Annie, anyway. Maybe by myself.”

 “You can stop talking now,” Annie grumbled and waved to her friend. “What are you doing out here, Peeta? I thought you were off this evening.”

 “I was,” he confirmed and stopped next to them. “I was helping out in Cabin 12.”

 “Oh?”

 “Drawing.”

 “I’m sorry, what?”

 “Finn didn’t tell you?”

 “Believe it or not, lover boy, Annie and I have plenty to talk about when we’re together that has absolutely nothing to do with you and your pathetic dearth of eligible women,” Finnick teased. “I have a lot more game than talking about another man when I’m alone with my woman.”

 “Oh, I’m so sorry. I totally forgot about your expertise with women. Can you help me, oh wise one?”

 “You know, if you two are done posturing and giving each other shit, I’d kind of like to know what Peeta was doing holed up in Cabin 12 with Katniss Everdeen,” Annie snapped. “Sometimes, testosterone is exhausting.”

 The two men chuckled in appreciation at Annie’s vehemence. Normally quiet and gracious to a fault, she could also roar like a cornered lioness guarding her young. For some reason, her interest in Katniss and her long-time friendship with Peeta created a fierce protectiveness in her that aroused quite a bit of passion.

 “Easy there, Red Riding Hood.” When Annie grinned at the nickname he’d given her when they’d first met because of her seeming innocence under Finnick’s wolfish gaze, Peeta explained. “I went by to see Ms. Everdeen yesterday. Took your advice. She wasn’t there when I arrived, so I waited for a while. Apparently, our favorite cougar got a hold of her yesterday, and Katniss—I mean, Ms. Everdeen, was a little tipsy when she returned to her cabin.”

 “Johanna Mason? Katniss Everdeen and Johanna Mason are friends?” Annie asked, incredulously. Johanna had been visiting Panem during the summers since all of them had been working at the resort, and she was hardly Annie’s favorite person. While Annie was cautious and friendly, Jo was brash and uncouth. Katniss seemed much more the former than the latter during each interaction the two had together.

 “I don’t exactly think they’re friends,” Peeta explained. “I think Jo recognized another wounded soul when she saw one, and she latched onto Ms. Everdeen.”

 Finnick laughed and shook his head. “Peet, I think you’ve moved past pretending you’re not attracted to Cabin 12. We get it. You’re way better than the rest of us and all above those pesky ethical issues, but just call her Katniss. We’re not going to judge you for it. Are we, Annie?”

 “Judgment free zone,” she agreed. “So, what happened?”

 “Katniss fell into my arms.”

 “Literally fell?”

 “Well… I caught her when she tripped on the stairs. I helped her inside, and I apologized for being a dick the other day.”

 “And tell her what she was wearing,” Finnick chuckled.

 Annie gasped, and her eyes widened. “What was she wearing?”

 “That’s not important,” he snapped, and Annie giggled at his obvious discomfort. “Anyway, she wants to make a children’s book about leaves and nature and other shit. I offered to draw the plants for her. I’m not sure why. It just kind of came out, and she got so excited about it that I didn’t know how to take it back once it was out there.”

 “Well, that’s…that’s really good,” she said encouragingly, “but why are you out so late? What time did you go to her cabin?”

 Peeta stammered for a few seconds, and Finnick and Annie exchanged pointed looks. Finally, he admitted, “Around 4:30.”

 “You were there for seven hours?” Finnick blurted. “Are you sure—?”

 “I’m sure, Finn,” Peeta barked. “I was working the entire time.”

 “Sex is a lot of work!”

 “Finnick, leave him alone,” Annie urged and turned to Peeta. “This is good, Peet. This is something really productive for each of you to use to fill your downtime. You’re such a good artist, too. As good of an artist as you are a baker. How did she like your breakfast basket, by the way? That was kind of you to send her one this morning.”

 “How did you know about that?” he grumbled and glanced skyward. “I should have known you’d hear about it.”

 “I had to arrange the delivery,” she protested with a grin.

 Peeta shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. “She didn’t say a word about it.”

 “Really?”

 “Really,” he confirmed, “but she did have the note tucked into a pile of important papers.”

 Finnick hooted and clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s got to count for something.”

 “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

 Annie suppressed an excited squeal and answered, “A lot can happen in a summer.”

 “It sure can,” Finnick crowed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Peet, I have a gorgeous woman I want to romance. Can we get some privacy?”

  With a roll of his eyes, Peeta left the engaged couple alone and headed back to the barracks. It was a long time before Finnick returned.

[btsmutimagines]

Just Loosen Up (M)

A/N: This is a complete whim and I DON’T CONDONE THE ACTIONS IN THIS AND DON’T RECOMMEND ANYONE TRY THIS

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Drug use (MDMA/ Ecstasy)

“So, run that by me again?”

“I think we should take some ecstasy and talk things through. Minyoung told me it worked for her and Hayoung, maybe it’ll work for us.”

“And you think I would agree to this because...?”

“What, you don’t want to? Babe, you’re always talking about needing to communicate and I’m shitty with feelings so maybe a few pills could loosen me up.”

“Then, why do I have to take some?”

“It’s gender equality, babe. Equal opportunity for both of us.” You rolled your eyes at his explanation, a stupid grin breaking on his face.

Your boyfriend, Jungkook just came home with this crazy idea and you were pretty sure he lost his mind.

He was right about one thing: the two of you have been going through a rough patch in your relationship. He chalked it up to living together for so long, but you think it’s the lack of communication between the two of you.

You worked all day, getting home when he leaves to work out and he comes home to just crash on the bed. You barely manage to kick his sweaty ass out of bed and take a shower. He would offer to shower with you, but you just want to sleep.

You can’t remember the last time the two of you sat down out the dining table that you spent weeks looking for when you first moved in together and eat a meal with him. Drinking the wine that you both loved, and he would make lame jokes while you try to eat. Staring at each other quietly while he smiles at you before he brushes that pesky hair away from your face.

Or when he would cuddle up with you on the couch while he voices over a really shitty movie, making you crack up and you couldn’t even remember the actual lines without thinking about him?

Even that one time he accidentally wore your yoga pants and kept trying to ‘work out’ in front of you. The image of his shaped ass is permanently etched in your mind.

Where did those times go?

“Y/N?”

“Huh? Sorry.” You looked away from him, slightly embarrassed by how out of it you were.

“You know what? Fuck it.” You shrugged, maybe it’ll do some good. Plus, you’re on vacation so you don’t have anywhere to be anyways.

“Awesome.”

“Awesome.” You parroted back to him, him biting his lip. He placed his hands deep into his pockets, his thumbs between front belt loops of his jeans.

“When are we doing this?”

“Shit, right. I need to go buy some.”

“Seriously?”

“I wanted to run it by you first, I can’t just walk around with a baggie of ecstasy exactly.”

“Doesn’t sound like you were confident that you could convince me.”

“Babe, you know that I had a complete shot in the dark with you.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Are we really getting into this right now? After what we just agreed on?” You felt your cheeks burning, not even realizing how silly you were being.

It’s not exactly easy to say ‘Hey, baby, let’s do some ecstasy and talk about our feelings’ without being tossed into the back of a cruiser.

“Sorry.”

“We can get through this, I promise.” He kissed your head before leaving. You stood there a few moments before he opened the door again.

“Forgot my keys…” He grabbed them off the table sheepishly before leaving again. You rolled your eyes, the one time he seemed kind of cool.

He came back with a bag and you opened your eye to look at him.

“Alright.” He proceeded to dump the content of his bag on the coffee table, revealing a bunch of snacks and you sat up.

“Snacks?”

“Minyoung told me that you can get really hungry after taking some.”

“Babe, I think it’s actually thirst, not hunger.”

“Oh. We got water.”

“The more I think about it, the more of a whim it seems.”

“Can you just have a little faith in me? For once?” He muttered, you looked up at him and he cleared his throat.

“Okay, I told Minyoung to check on us in a few hours. I only bought enough for one dose, so we don’t overdose or something…”

“Is there anything else we need to prepare?”

“This feels like Katniss and Peeta before they try to eat Nightshade in the Hunger Games. I’m totally Katniss by the way.”

“Weren’t you the one pursuing me in this relationship?”

“Mhm, I don’t remember that.”

“Uh-huh.” He grinned again, that stupid smile of his. He placed a pill in your hand, him holding one up.

“Cheers?”

“They’re pills.”

“Are you going to leave me hanging?” You rolled your eyes, tapping your pill against his before swallowing it at the same time as him.

“How long until it kicks in?”

“Half an hour.”

“What do we do until then?”

“Wanna make out?”

“Shut up.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───                              ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You could feel a shift in your mood, knowing that a half an hour must have passed by now and you looked at Jungkook.

“Babe?”

“It’s so fucking cold.”

“Baby, it’s summer.”

“Then, why is the temperature so low? Did you tamper with the thermostat?”

“We don’t have a thermostat, Kook.”

“Fuck.” You wrapped your arms around him, hoping that would help and he seemed a bit tense.

“Can you tell me how you’re feeling? Besides cold, obviously?”

“Can I get a blanket first?”

“Fine.” You got up, stumbling a little and trying to keep your balance while you got to the linen closet to pull out a blanket and walk back to the living room. Jungkook was rubbing his hands together as if it were below 0 in the room but you didn’t bother to point that out.

“Here.”

“Come in with me.” You did so, him pulling you closer and you sighed.

“Ready now.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Okay, let’s talk about us. I feel like we don’t see each other anymore. I know we live together but it’s like we are roommates that share a bed and occasionally has sex. I don’t want that.”

“But you give the best cuddles.”

“Kook, that’s beside the point.”

“What’s the point, then?”

“We don’t see each other enough.”

“I’m seeing you right now. Wait.” He closed his eyes, “Now, we’re not seeing each other.”

“Kookie, focus.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, babe. What were you saying?”

“That this is a bad idea.”

“What’s a bad idea? Making a food printer?”

“What?”

“You know, it’s like a printer that makes meals. Instead of a picture of a hamburger, it makes a whole ass hamburger that you can eat and shit. I think that’s a good idea.”

“That’s the most coherent thing you’ve said so far.”

“Thanks, Baby.” He sloppily kissed your cheeks and you shook your head. You got all the right effects while he’s probably on a bad trip.

“Pretty baby. What did you eat to get so pretty?” He poked your cheek as he said this, moving your cheek around with his finger.

“Not different than you.”

“Aw, can I be as pretty as you?”

“You already are, Kookie.”

“Cookie? Do you have cookies?” You rolled your eyes, so he wasn’t wrong about him being hungry. You reached for the snacks on the table, Jungkook still holding onto you and you handed him the box.

“Thank god, I’m starving.”

“Eat it up.” You watched him happily munch on the box, making sure he wouldn’t inhale the box as well. He tossed the box across the box, hitting the wall before dropping to the ground.

“You’re like a toddler.”

“Am not.”

“You’re only proving my point.”

“Looks like the only effect the pills had was making you meaner.”

“I’m mean?”

“Yeah, sometimes you make me feel so stupid. Watching you read all those huge textbooks and learn all those complex ass theories while I’m some stupid gym rat.”

“You’re not-”

“Don’t act like it’s not true. I don’t have anything to offer you except this amazing body.”

“Do you think I just like you because you’re hot?”

“What else is there?”

“Are you out of your mind- Never mind, don’t answer that.” You stopped yourself before continuing,

“Every new thing you try, you’re somehow a fucking prodigy at it. Everyone we meet gravitates to you like you’re the centre of the universe or something. Even though you can be shy, there’s just something about you that makes people want to find out more. I don’t think you know how much I envy that.”

“Envy? Me?”

“I’m some frigid stuck up bitch compared to you. I wonder why you even like me sometimes.”

“How could I not like you? You don’t baby me like everyone else, seeing you work hard makes me want to work ten times harder. You’re so determined in everything you do and you always get your shit done. You stand up for yourself and won’t take shit for anyone. You’re a fucking badass and I love it.”

“I am?”

“Not only that, you have a soft and caring side to you that only reveal to me. It’s just as beautiful as your badass side.”

“I’ve never heard you say that to me.”

“Just never got the chance.”

“What are we doing?”

“Huh? I thought we were having a moment here? A tête à tête, if you will.”

“No, I mean why can’t we say shit like this when we’re not high?”

“Because we’re two dumbos.”

“Two? I didn’t know you had a twin.”

“So, you got jokes, huh?” You laughed, Jungkook joining you. Your eyes glanced at the bobbing of his Adam’s apple, the sight oddly arousing to you.

Why is he so hot?

“I guess I’m the funny one in this relationship now.” You straddle him, pressing yourself closer to him. The subtle outline of his dick rubbed against you through your tights.

“I beg to differ.”

“I don’t remember that being a discussion.” You leaned in close to his lips, your hot breath definitely hitting against his skin. Could he tell how much you were burning up right now?

“Oh yeah.”

“Are you still cold, baby? I know just the thing to warm you up.”

“What if I overheat? What are you going to do to me?” You resisted the urge to flick his forehead, there goes his ability to concentrate. He looked at you anxiously, you cupped his cheek in response.

“Do you really want me to say it? Or should I show you?” You grind against him, hoping it would give a hint.

“Why did you- oh, you mean that?”

“Mhm-mmm. What do you say?”

“Let’s get rid of the blanket, shall we?” He tossed the blanket across the floor, landing on your large plant and you laughed.

“Nice shot.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.” You retorted. He quickly got up, you naturally gripping onto him and his hands placed under your thighs.

“Jesus.” He made his way to the bedroom, taking a few stumbles. You weren’t sure it was out of eagerness or because of ecstasy, it didn’t matter though

“Yeah, I know I’m godlike.”

“Fuck off.”

“Rather fuck you instead, though.”

“You’re still a smart ass when you’re high, huh?”

“Don’t act like it doesn’t turn you on.” He sat down on the bed, lying down and you lied on top of him.

“Au contraire.” You whispered while your fingers traced his jaw before he kissed you.

It felt like a rush as he pressed his lips against yours, the feeling of euphoria coursing through your veins. His hands slipped under your tights, giving a firm squeeze.

Your mind began to drift, allowing yourself to drown in the sensation of his hot lips. His sweet saliva homogenized with yours as his tongue entered yours. His teeth caught yours, giving sensual bites with a small tug. The sloppiness of his wet kiss was lost on you as your hands fumbled with his jeans.

“Why are there still clothes on you?”

“I could say the same.” You said, reaching for his shirt and fling it across the room. He slid your tights down, murmuring curses as they struggled down your legs.

He flipped you over, getting up to take off his jeans with your eyes raking in his body.

You took off your shirt as he finally took off your tights with your panties. He spread your legs, his finger taking a quick swipe.

“C’mon.”

“Use your words.”

“Asshole.”

“Maybe next time.” You glared at him; you knew that he was probably smirking.

“I want your tongue on my clit while you stretch me out with your fingers, Jungkook.” You spat out.

You moaned, his fingers quickly curling up inside you and his tongue pressed against your pussy. He timed his thrusts with the flick of his tongue, pleasure intensifying with each time.

“So fucking wet for me, hmm.” He grunted, briskly removing his fingers from inside you. You rested on your elbows, looking up at him and he leaned over to give you a quick kiss. A hand haphazardly began to stroke his cock, barely wrapping around his girth and he replaced your hand with his own. The quiet snap of rubber was followed by the infuriating rubbing of his head against you.

“Quit the teasing.”

“Never.”

“You’re such a d-” He slid inside of you before you could finish, beginning to work his hips as he thrusts into you. How could you forget the way his cock stretches you out? The titillating way his shaft rubbed against your walls, the muted smacking of skin when his hips met yours. His hot hands pressed against your shapely thighs, leaving imprints on them.

“Fuck.”

“Like that?”

“Fucking harder.” You keen, gripping the sheets as he complied. His grip grew stronger, knowing that you were going to bruise later but all you cared about was the way he slammed his cock into you. He moved one hand, kneading your breast while his fingers pinched your hardened nipple. You mewled; a decadent wave of bliss washed over you.

“Just like that, god, fuck.” He groaned, his thrusts sputtering, and his finger crudely rubbed against your clit. You let out a shrill whine, hitting your climax a few seconds later. He stopped thrusting a few moments later, the sound of panting filling the air as he pulled out.

You got up, looking for your shirt and finding it hanging on the doorknob. Slipping it on, you scratched your head a bit.

“Shit.”

“What?”

“5 missed calls from Minyoung.”

“She was supposed to check on us…”

“You don’t think she…”

“She won’t...”

“You and I both know she would.” The two of you walked out to the living room, seeing your friend, Minyoung eating the snacks Jungkook bought and you immediately wished the floor would swallow you whole.

“You two rascals. I’m guessing that the pills did the trick, then?” She said with a mischievous grin.

[junie-bugg]

The Boy In My Bed - Everlark Fanfiction

Hey, here’s an Everlark fanfiction I wrote when I should have been doing one of my many homework assignments. This is my take on the Mockingjay ending involving Katniss and Peeta’s relationship. WARNING: there is some mention/description of sex. This whole little one-shot is basically Katniss and Peeta coming to terms with being intimate in their relationship outside of the prying eyes of the Capital. 

I do not own the characters. Please do not steal my work!

Enjoy!

The first night I hunger for more than just his warmth next to me in my bed, he is having a nightmare. He doesn't thrash around and scream like I do. Rather, he tenses. His body is stiff under my hands. At this moment he is so unlike the Peeta I've come to know: soft and gentle. At this moment he is as tensely wound as one of my bow strings before I let an arrow fly. I see his eyes moving back and forth under his tightly closed lids. They flutter like bird’s wings. He is seeing things I cannot. I quietly wonder what they are.

I hold him against me until the nightmare stops and he wakes. He doesn't say anything but he does place a warm hand to my face. I do the same. I feel his tears under my palm. I do not tell him that the feeling of his large hand on my cheek makes me wonder what it would feel like on my bare hips and stomach. I do not tell him that the sound of his deep breathing next to me makes something between my legs curl in pleasure. Perhaps tonight is not the night to tell him or perhaps I'm too scared to. All I know is that when I wake up he's gone back to his own house across the green and his side of the bed is cold. I see his kitchen light on through my window. It's not yet dawn. He left earlier than usual. 

He's in my bed more nights than he's in his own, but it's still not enough. I slip on my mother's bathrobe, the one she wore when she lived here, and pad down the stairs. My house is dark and empty. When Prim and my mother were here they would fill the rooms with firelight and soft chatter. Without them, there is nothing. The only time I feel like this house is a home is when Peeta comes to sleep in my bed. We haven't talked much since he planted those primroses in my garden, but he knows me well enough that he doesn't have to ask to come under my covers. If I didn't want him there I could just as easily kick him out. 

I grip Buttercup by his furry underbelly and carry him into the cold morning air. Dew laden grass blades cling to my bare feet as I walk. Buttercup doesn’t growl in response to his rough treatment. He knows that when I bring him to Peeta's, he gets food. 

The hallway is warm and smells of baking bread when I open the door. Buttercup lets out an agitated meow as I unceremoniously drop him, letting him pad his way to the kitchen on his own. Peeta looks up as I enter the room. The shadows under his eyes are blue and his skin looks grey against his blonde curls. 

"You look terrible," I say. 

"Good morning to you too." He continues molding dough. I smile slightly when I see that he's making a batch of the cheese buns I love. 

I wrap my arms around my middle, trying to calm the butterflies that have started to appear whenever he’s around. "Your nightmares are getting worse." 

"If I could stop them I would." He snaps, agitated. "I know crying isn't what you expect of a bed partner." 

"Peeta," There's a hardness in my voice that I mean to soften. The words come out harsher than I want them too. "I'm worried about you."

"I know, Katniss. I'm sorry." He grips the edge of the table with his flour-covered hands. His knuckles spasm under the force. "I'm just tired."

I hesitate and let the moment close. The kitchen is silent except for the soft roar of the oven and Buttercup's purring. He's playing with a piece of string on the floor. Before, this would have been a setting where I wouldn't have dreamed of touching Peeta. But things have changed between us since the games. There's no faking love for cameras that don't exist. It's just me and him in this warm kitchen. I come up behind him and wrap my arms around his chest. I rest my ear against his back so I can hear his heartbeat. It's strong and steady. I'm reminded of when it stopped during our second games and how I almost lost him. 

"I want you to move in with me."

He tenses under my arms. 

"Are you sure you want that, Katniss?"

"What do you mean?" 

He untangles my arms from around his body, getting flour on my sleeves in the process. A dull pang of hurt leadens my limbs. "I've been having more flashbacks. The shiny memories haven't stopped. Sometimes I'm here and I'm baking or I'm painting or I'm just lying down on the couch and then the next moment I've blacked out and broken something or I've hurt myself." 

It's true. I awoke one night to find him muttering under his breath and rocking back and forth on the edge of the bed. He had scratched his palms to shreds with his own nails. The only thing that had calmed him down enough for me to clean and bandage his wounds was when I sang him a song. When he finally heard my voice he seemed to be coming out of a trance. But I'm no better. 

Almost every night I wake up in a cold sweat, a scream ripping my throat apart. Some days I muster up the strength to go to the woods and hunt or even go into town to trade. Other days I can't get out of bed. Instead, I just stare at the wall blankly and refuse to eat whatever Peeta brings me. I can tell he's worried about me just as much as I'm worried about him. 

"You've taken care of me, Peeta. Let me take care of you too."

We hold each other close in the soft glow of the oven. 

It doesn't take long for Peeta to move all of his personal belongings into my house. He has a few boxes of clothing that Portia made for him to wear during our victory tour. He has his easel and an assortment of canvases, brushes, and paints. What surprises me is how much baking material he has. I watch him carry heavy sacks of flour, sugar, and salt from his kitchen into mine. The muscles in his arms and back ripple in the sun. He has an assortment of cake decorating tools that I've never had the chance to look through. He smiles as I lift frosting tips and cookie cutters from their organized drawers and set them all up in a line on the counter. He has so many. He places his shoes next to my mud crusted hunting boots by the door. He places his coat next to my father's hunting jacket on a peg in the front hallway. He places his lips on my temple every morning. 

I watch him paint. He brushes colors onto those stark white canvases to create breathtaking landscapes. He begins hanging the paintings I’ve said are my favorites around the house. A spring day by the lake. The beaches of District 4. The training center garden we spent a full day in before our second games. I use the animals I kill and the plants I collect to trade for frames in town. He smiles each time I bring one home for him. If he wanted to he could sell his paintings for a profit but he never does. I understand why. Each picture he makes is a memory. Selling them would be wrong. 

He paints a portrait of Prim for me. I’m angry when I see it. So blindingly angry that I hit his chest over and over as he wraps himself around me and tries to apologize. When I’ve cried myself out in his arms we hang it in her old bedroom. I don’t go in there very often but when I do I feel her small child’s eyes follow me. Peeta did a good job. It looks just like her. 

One day I peek into the old office that has become his studio. He’s crying as he paints a portrait of his father from memory. He has no real pictures of him to use as a reference. 

The first night I work up the courage to straddle him and begin taking off my shirt he grips my hands to stop me. 

“Katniss, you don’t have to.” He whispers. He looks sad with his eyebrows drawn over his clear blue eyes like I’ve confused him with someone else. I’m too embarrassed to tell him that I want his hot mouth on mine and I want him to want me. I’ve never seriously considered being intimate with anyone before. Not Gale when I was younger and not Peeta when we were thrown into our first games together. Back then, by the river where I pulled him from the mud and the weeds, I had looked away when he took his clothes off. Now I wish he would realize I’ve changed my mind. I want to see him. All of him. And I want him to see me too. 

But instead, I quickly pull my shirt back over my bare chest and roll to my side of the bed. He doesn’t touch me again that night and I don’t want him to. My breath quickens and my face burns with embarrassment. 

I don’t sleep. I have too many thoughts racing through my head. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe the boy with the bread doesn’t love me anymore. He has his reasons. Because of me, he can’t go a day without a tracker jacker venom-induced flashback. Because of me, his family is dead. Burned to a crisp in those firebombs that took his home. He has his reasons but at this moment I hate him for it. I rise and dress to go out to the woods. I can tell by Peeta’s breathing he isn’t asleep either. He probably never was. We don’t look at each other as I finish dressing and leave. 

Out in the woods, my head isn’t any clearer. I’m too angry to hunt or check traps so I just fume in a tree. I twirl the stem of a stray leaf between my palms and think about Peeta’s eyelashes. The sun is starting to set when I decide I should head back home. 

Haymitch and Peeta sit at the kitchen table. They aren’t talking but when we’re all together we never really do. What is there to say? Instead we usually just sit and enjoy each other’s company. They are all that’s left of my family here in 12. Today, Haymitch has decided to come at least partially sober. Even when tipsy he’s observant. 

“I thought you two were starting to get along again,” He raises an eyebrow at our cold greeting. “Moving in together and all.” He munches on a cookie Peeta has made. The beautiful yellow flower collapses under Haymitch’s jaw as he bites into its petals. Soon Haymitch has eaten all the cookies and has downed more than half of whatever spirit is in his bottle. He begins to stagger back home and I slam the front door on him more forcefully than I mean to. 

“Katniss?” Peeta’s voice carries from the kitchen. “Can we talk?” 

I don’t respond and elect to silently head up the stairs to take a bath instead. I’m acting childish but I don’t care. I’m hurt. 

That night Peeta slides into bed next to me. I expect him to stay on his side and avoid touching me again. Instead, I feel him prop himself up on one of his arms as he begins playing with my braid. I yank it out of his fingers. 

I want to stop this. To stop being angry but it’s so hard. I’ve come to realize I love him more than I thought I could. I think bitterly that our roles have switched. He loved me when I barely knew who he was. Now I know that he, soft and sweet like the bright dandelion I associate him with, is the one I love and now he won’t even touch me.

“It’s not that I don’t want to be with you.” He starts. His voice is barely a whisper. His words are low and rough. A shiver travels along my spine and begins pooling between my legs. God, even after last night I still want him. “I’m just afraid that if we are together that you’ll be the one to regret it.” 

I am fully unprepared for this. Somehow, this simple confession from Peeta hurts me more than if he didn’t want to be with me. He thinks I would regret being with him. That I’ll regret loving him. A guilty twist runs through my body as I realize I’m not always the nicest person. It comes naturally to Peeta, to be loving. I have to put in an effort. I’m protective, but I’m not as affectionate as he is. Somehow he doesn’t know how deeply I’ve come to care for him. I thought after the games and the war he may have had an inkling of an idea of how deep my feelings run. It’s no longer for the show. Who’s watching us here? I let him kiss me and take care of me and sleep in my bed. But somehow I think he still believes he’s just a place holder for somebody else. But there is no one else, and there hasn’t been for a long time. 

I shift so that I’m facing him. He’s still propped up on his arm, cradling his head in his large hand. I look into those blue eyes. The same ones I saw in the cave, on the beach, and in the bunker. The man those eyes belong to has changed, but they themselves have not. They’re just as blue and as beautiful as the day he threw me the burnt bread. 

I breathe his name. Our lips are almost touching.

“You’re all I have left,” I whisper back to him. “I could never regret being with you.”

I don’t have to say anything else. This time he lets me straddle him, undo my braid, and take my shirt off. I guide his hands over my bare breasts. It’s a good feeling, to have these painter’s hands on me. He’s gentle and warm. The calluses that have formed on his fingertips from holding brushes and metal cookie cutters glide over me and make me shiver with pleasure. He lifts himself up so I’m sitting in his lap and begins taking his own shirt off. He lets me help and I run my fingers down his solid chest. Our lips meet as he whispers my name. I truly am the girl on fire when Peeta’s inside of me. I feel his hardness between my legs and know that maybe this was always meant to be.

He lays me down and brings his body on top of mine. His lips burn trails along my skin and I feel like I’m evaporating under his touch. 

We’re slick with sweat and both breathing heavy when he finishes onto my stomach. I guide one of his warm hands down between my legs and help him rub tight circles into me until I too tense and gasp. It feels like I’ve reached the ocean in Peeta’s painting. It’s waves lap over me again and again and again until I’m exhausted and gasping for air. 

When it’s over we hold each other and try to match our breathing. We’re both burning like furnaces and I’m reminded of kissing his hot lips when he was sick with fever. I’m afraid to let him go. The night air outside of the circle of his arms is cold and I want to stay in this moment a little longer. 

Suddenly he’s laughing in my ear. It’s one of those clear childlike laughs that I haven’t heard come from him in a long time. 

“What?” I lift my head from under his chin to look him in the eyes. I see small tears running down his face. “Was it that good?” I tease. 

“I just...I never really thought…” he’s crying more than he’s laughing now. Almost hysterically. I hold him tighter, expecting him to sink into a flashback and start tensing up. 

Instead, he asks: “You love me. Real or not real?”

I say: “Real.” And after all this time, I mean it.

[saltpepperbeard]

Open Up ~An Everlark One-Shot~

A/N: Hello hello! Does this still count as an Everlark one shot with a particular character of a particular kind thrown into the mix? I’d hope so lol! But hey there; quite the unexpected twist from me, yes? Considering how much I absolutely ROAST the guy who shows up in this story.

I wanted to do it as a fun little exercise however! Oddly enough, I think it was burning his trading card at Toastcon that gave me the extra motivation to go through with this fjkdskds. CATHARTIC, PERHAPS? I have had a headcanon for quite some time though, one where Gale matures enough to actually come back to Twelve to face Katniss and consequently Peeta as well. I decided to play with that idea, and it was definitely fun/challenging figuring out how everyone would react, Katniss especially.

Now, I know this may be a little less than ideal content for some shippers lol! If you’re anything like me, his name alone is enough to send you into a “HMMNOTHANK” most of the time. But I’d definitely appreciate some open-mindedness for this one! Katniss may not throw up Gale, no, but she definitely has some OPINIONS.

So without further adoooooo...

Open Up

I feel relaxed for the first time in weeks. Curled up into the couch, my hands laced over my stomach, my unborn baby stirring softly within...

The scent of Peeta’s baking cheesebuns a comforting perfume in the air, the rain gently tapping against the glass of the window, the warmth of the fire blanketing both body and soul...

It’s nice. And very much needed. Getting this deep into my pregnancy has caused a whirlwind of emotion. Terrors have been frequenting my dreams more often than not. Panic has overtaken me more than relief has. Uncertainty has danced through my system in contrast to the usual steadiness.

I don’t know; something’s different about today. It feels like everything has fallen into place, everything’s where it should be. All my favorite things have lined up to swaddle me in comfort, swaddle me in relief. Seems like not too many things could threaten such a wonderful, easygoing morning.

“Love?”

The familiar, handsome voice calling from the kitchen breaks me from my thoughts, but not from my eased state, in fact adding to it. A warm smile stretches my cheeks as I reply back.

“Hmm?”

“Doing alright in there?”

I can hear him still working as he talks, pounding dough and bustling around the kitchen. I bite my lip, smiling more as I picture his concentration.

“I guess.”

Now, he halts, giving a firm slap to the dough before pausing.

“You guess?”

I shake my head softly; so protective as always. He’s got even more so with my pregnancy. Even the slightest bit of upset or discomfort on my part will get him leaping to action. If it were anyone else, it would almost be annoying. But with him, with my husband...it’s strangely endearing.

I worry my lip more, puffing with mirth. Shouldn’t worry him, I guess, so my response turns to teasing.

“Just missing someone. He’s wrapped up in his work though, so maybe I shouldn’t bother him.”

I can practically hear the tension in the kitchen break, Peeta sighing before falling victim to laughter.

“Oh,” he snickers, and continues on with baking, “Well, yeah, he is pretty busy making cheesebuns for his two favorite people. Not that he would mind the company, but such a distraction might put said cheesebuns on hold.”

“That might be a risk I’m willing to take,” I murmur back.

I know my husband’s grinning tremendously, the warmth from his smile outdoing the heat from the fire in the hearth.

“Really?” he chuckles, “You’d cast aside cheesebuns for this person? Are we talking about the same Katniss here?”

Now I’m laughing as well, shaking my head once more before heaving my rotund form off my perch, readying myself to saunter towards the kitchen.

“Guess I love him a bit more than his baking. Only a bit though.”

Again, Peeta laughs, a joyous, wonderful sound that brings me to the same level.

“Hmm, sounds about right,” he snorts, “Well, if not a cheesebun, he definitely has a kiss with your name on it.”

My heart flips, absentmindedly licking my lips as I picture his offer. Despite the aches and pains coursing through my body from being late into term, I begin to waddle my way towards the lovely enticements in the kitchen.

“He sounds cheesier than what he’s making,” I say, a blush dusting across my cheeks as I add, “Guess that’s why I love him more.”

“I’m going to cut this third person thing we have going only to say that I love you too.”

I blush even harder, and am just a few waddles away from entering the kitchen, a few waddles away from collapsing into my husband’s embrace, when my jinxing words decide to catch up with me.

Because the morning does indeed shift. Not with anything bad, per say, but with something very unexpected; a series of knocks sounds from our front door.

The warmth surging through me is quick to shift to the opposite, every part of me freezing. I try not to grow anxious, but it’s difficult not to. Though mysterious visitors are often just Haymitch, or Sae, or even Hazelle, some deep recess of my mind always worries about it being someone from the Capitol.

Especially now, with a pure little unscathed life growing deep within me.

What if they’re here to take Peeta and I back on some twisted Victors’ Tour. What if they’re here to reap us into a new set of Games. What if they’re here to take my child, our child, away, leading it to death before I could even ease it into life...

I hadn’t even realized I had been shivering with quick breaths until Peeta’s voice sounds to ground me.

“Katniss?” he asks, his tone a strong whisper, “Who-”

The knocks persist, cutting us both off. My anxiety hikes up, my arms subconsciously wrapping around my stomach. I take steps away from the outside world, visions rolling dark throughout my head.

“I...I can’t...” I wheeze, silently begging my husband for help. He understands almost immediately, our closeness seemingly connecting our minds.

“It’s alright,” he murmurs, his voice soothing, though I think I can hear a hint of concern, “It’s alright, Katniss. Let me just clean my hands off and then I’ll answ-”

Once more, we’re cut off. This time though, not from knocks. This time, it’s from my name, my name being uttered from someone different than Peeta.

“Katniss?”

I didn’t think it was possible to freeze more. But I do, every ounce of me locking up at the voice on the other side of the wood. It sounds incredibly strange, but all too familiar. Absolutely awful, but oddly wonderful all the same. 

Following along with the contrasts, my body remains rigidly still, all except for my arm, which slowly and cautiously reaches for the door’s handle. I don’t know what or who I’m expecting to see. I don’t know what to expect. But when I hear a soft, “I know you’re in there,” I’m able to summon enough strength to breech the final barrier between myself and the “stranger.”

Although it’s definitely not a stranger. And it’s not Sae, or Haymitch, or anyone from the Capitol. And I’m not sure if it’s way better than seeing a Peacekeeper at our door, or far worse.

Talk about locking up; I go utterly cold. My eyes turn wild, my mouth hangs agape, my grip on the door runs iron. And once more, my body and mind go to war, leaving me awkwardly hanging in the middle, unsure of what to do, unsure of how to react.

Part of me wants to start sobbing, crying at the notion of something returning from the dead. Part of me wants to slam the door, to forget I ever saw the person standing before me. Part of me wants to scream until my voice runs raw, shrieking my pain from the past few years.

Instead, I’m left doing absolutely nothing, simply staring in complete shock. 

The inner battle within me continues, and a reaction birthed from pure instinct presents itself. Vile things form on the tip of my tongue, anger being the first to pull ahead in my internal fight. But, just as fast, my heart is quick to douse the flames, preventing anything from being said.

It’s quite the brawl, between body and spirit. Before a side can come out on top though, before I can truly react, truly process, I hear shuffling behind me. Then, comes the voice the eases my soul, but unfortunately leaves me more aware of reality.

“Katniss? Who’s at the...”

Much be pretty extraordinary if Peeta finds himself speechless too.

We all remain in a tense, uncomfortable silence for a beat. But of course, my husband is the one to cut through. Amicable and wonderful as always, even in a situation like this. So I’m not surprised at all to feel him slide up behind me, his presence warm and welcoming.

And with a composure I wish I had, I watch as he extends a hand in greeting to the man before us, followed by the name I’ve tried not to think about in years.

“Gale...” Peeta murmurs, “It’s...a surprise to see you back in Twelve!”

Gale.

I’m not sure whether I want to vomit, smile, or dart back into the house.

But with my husband behind me, and the initial shock wearing off, I settle on actually looking at him, actually taking him in.

He looks so incredibly similar to how he did when we parted. I’m not sure how that’s even possible; it’s been years. I guess the only difference would be that he looks fitter, more composed. Like the kind of person who should be working in District Two.

But I can still see the familiarity in his grey eyes, the concentration in his gaze that I saw so often when we were hunting. Now, instead of using it to figure out snares and traps, I watch as it washes over my form. My very vulnerable, very pregnant form. It seems to settle on my stomach, his brow furrowing just enough to rouse a reaction from me.

I suddenly feel incredibly self-conscious, judged, and uncomfortable. I can’t imagine he’s not sneering at the fact that I’m pregnant with another man’s child, scowling in jealousy like he did not too long ago.

Bile rises in my throat, and I cast my gaze downwards, shutting myself out from the situation. The only thing I choose to focus on is my husband, inhaling his therapeutic cinnamon and dill scent, relishing in the warmth of his body pressed against mine.

The small ounce of my conscious paying attention braces for the usual snarky comment from Gale. But strangely enough, he simply returns my husband’s greeting, shaking Peeta’s hand back.

“Peeta. Yeah it’s...definitely been a while.”

His voice even sounds similar. Strong, authoritative, steady. It takes me back to the better times between us, but of course, it also takes me back to the terrible. I feel my throat tighten further, and I still find myself unable to look at him. Instead, I lean back to seek the same comfort I’ve been receiving all these years, my own true solace.

Peeta’s quick to deliver, slipping his hand around my hip when he retracts it from Gale’s, holding me close. I can’t tell if his arm around me is a protective or a possessive gesture. Either way, it does its intended purpose, soothing me and ironing out the high peaks of anxiety.

“How have you been doing?” Peeta asks, thankfully keeping the awkward silences somewhat at bay.

“Ahh, pretty good. Keeping busy in Two.”

The mention of Gale’s job, his life, causes me to shiver slightly. Though Peeta tightens his grip around me, every ounce of his warmth pouring into my veins, my nerves continue to wave. I want nothing more than to bury my face in Peeta’s chest, to hide myself away from all of this. Even though it’s not much, simply catching up and exchanging pleasantries, it’s...more than overwhelming. I wasn’t ready for this. I want to go back to the regular, gentle day we were having, go back to focusing on my life and the life I’m preparing to welcome.

But, Gale being stubborn and Peeta being more than polite, neither give me that option, continuing to converse.

“...Take it things are going well for the two of you?”

Even after all these years, I think I can recognize that tone. Seemingly well intended, but laced with jealousy and negativity. Does nothing but make my urge to flee stronger, my trembles more intense.

Peeta begins to softly caress my hip, my lower back, rubbing tender circles as he carries on with the conversation.

“Yeah. We’re slowly starting to rebuild. Opened the bakery back up, and the forest continues to provide. Life’s been...getting back to normal really.”

My husband definitely doesn’t disappoint; even if Gale had been making some kind of stab at our relationship, at my pregnancy, Peeta stepped entirely around it. It makes me relax a tad, leaning even further into his touch.

“That’s good to hear. You seem like you’re doing much better,” Gale says.

My relaxation is short lived, tensing back up at Gale’s words. That’s...strange for him to say. Years ago he didn’t want Peeta to get better; him being well was too much competition. And now he’s commenting on my husband’s well being?

“I am, thank you,” Peeta murmurs, before looking down in my direction, “It’s been rocky at times but...We’ve really helped each other through a lot.”

“I can tell.”

Gale pauses for a moment, before taking a breath and continuing in a softer voice, “I’m...glad you two have each other.”

Now there’s a silence that even Peeta can’t mend, the both of us stunned at such a different character. I raise my head slightly, though still not looking Gale in the eyes, confusion surging in to mix with the nerves. Almost as if on cue, Gale inhales before breaking through.

“Guess you’re wondering why I’m at your front door?”

It’s like Peeta suddenly becomes fully aware of his surroundings; I guess Gale showing up was enough to shock him into greying out as well. He tenses slightly, looking down at me, back to Gale, and then down at me again, his mouth flopping a few times. I hear him swallow hard, before he releases with a sigh, almost like he was fighting something as well.

“Oh, sorry; would you like to come in out of the rain?”

“Yeah, thanks. Not quite used to this weather anymore.”

The two share a good-natured chuckle, keeping the atmosphere cordial. But, cordial as it may be, and as friendly as my husband is, it doesn’t stop my vision from nearly blacking out. There’s something about inviting Gale into our household that almost makes the contents of my stomach reappear onto our porch. Maybe because inviting him in almost feels like letting him back into my life, neither of which I’m ready for at all.

I can barely handle my pregnancy, can barely handle my past nightmares. How the hell am I expected to handle an individual who carries such immense weight with him, who’s left such a hefty scar across my body?

My form signals to me that I’ve had enough, and before either of them can say anything more, I tear myself away. I move the fastest I have in weeks, practically ignoring the added weight in my abdomen as I glide across the cold floor. I’m quick to find a bathroom, and I barely have time to sink in front of the toilet before the retching begins.

I cough harshly, tears streaming down my face as I fiercely grip the porcelain. Nothing comes up, but my body continues to react, heaving all the while. A scream builds up in my throat, but it comes out as a gag, dampened by all my rampant emotions.

There I remain until both physical and mental exhaustion kick in, my entire form slumping downwards. I wheeze, breathing heavily as I claw my way across the floor, easing myself to the bathroom door. I prop myself against it, leaning on it as I rake my hands across my face, tears still a plenty.

I expect to be reduced to sobs, or screams, but I find that I’m numb instead. I’m motionless, remaining against the doorway, now impervious to the conversation on the other end. I have no choice but to listen in, to be subjected to whatever is so important.

I wait for Gale to drop some big news, some kind of something from the likes of District Two. But instead, the conversation between he and Peeta continues to sound entirely casual.

“Did you want anything to drink? Or eat?” I hear Peeta ask.

“No, I’m good, but thanks,” Gale replies.

I hear them pass through the house, the two of them heading to either the living room or the kitchen. They probably think they’re out of ear shot, or that I’m not listening. They’d be wrong; I’m entirely attuned.

There’s another awkward beat, one silent enough for me to hear my heart pounding in my ears. This time, Gale’s surprisingly the one to break it, with something rather unexpected.

“...So when’s the baby coming?”

I feel my fists tighten on their own accord, an ember of anger alighting within me. It may have been a perfectly innocent question once again, but it reeks of envy and bitterness.

Thankfully, my husband’s warmth combats the negative fire; I can almost feel the heat of his smile as he gingerly answers.

“In a few weeks, we think. That’s what the doctor keeps telling us anyway.”

“You excited?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Peeta chuckles softly, “I’ve wanted to be a Dad for...a while.”

Picturing the look on my husband’s face and hearing his current contentment soothes me, my form easing a bit against the door. But because fire is here to combat my own, Gale speaking gets me tensing right back up again.

“And Katniss?”

I clench my jaw, my hands lacing protectively across my stomach. I’m half-tempted to burst out, to hiss at him to leave and stop questioning my growing family. But I still find myself locked up, Peeta tenderly speaking for me.

“She’s alright,” he murmurs after a breath, “She’s been scared of course.”

I tense further, wishing I had a knife to throw if Gale dares to make some kind of snide comment towards my husband, something about him not helping me properly or me not being ready. Once again, he surprises me, simply remaining silent and allowing Peeta to continue.

“But...I think she’s excited too. She already talks to the baby a lot, and I’ll catch her singing lullabies on the occasion.”

I hear Peeta chuckle gently, before he adds, “She’s going to be a wonderful mother.”

It’s astounding how well and how quickly Peeta can bring me back down, tension sapping from a body with a ghost of a smile to match. I blow out a soft breath, tenderly starting to rub my stomach, only to freeze when another voice interjects.

“...Yeah. She will,” Gale agrees.

That sort of melancholy-laced tone takes me back to when I was so confused, to when I didn’t know what to do with myself or how I was feeling. I expect it to trigger those same awful feelings of guilt, my throat tightening in preparation.

I’m pleased when nothing of the sort arises.

Because no, there’s absolutely no questioning it now. The baby growing within me is Peeta’s. And the heart pounding in my chest belongs to him as well. It’s something that Gale has absolutely no place in wiggling himself into now. It never was. So why the hell is he-

“Guess you’re wondering why I showed up here?”

I inhale sharply; guess he’s answering my question is more like it.

“Kind of,” Peeta admits.

“I came to Twelve for inspections. Decided to come here, kind of at the last minute. Partly because...”

He pauses with an exhale, and I’m barely breathing myself as he continues.

“Peeta, I wanted to apologize. And to thank you.”

It’s like everything in Twelve comes screeching to a halt. Nothing’s audible except for the rain just barely pittering outside, and my breaths puffing out in perplexed bursts. I sit up a bit, needing to shake my head and inwardly ask myself if that was real. Very out of character from what I’m used to, from what I’d expect from him.

Peeta must be on the same wavelength, his question just as soft as the raindrops on the window.

“...Pardon?”

I hear Gale take another breath, his voice taking an oddly soft tone as well.

“You’ve really taken care of each other. I can see that in the short time I’ve been here. But the way you’ve cared for Katniss...I never could’ve...”

He trails off, swallowing the old longing. I can feel myself scowling at the thought of his old self punching through whatever thing he has going now. Peeta must be making some kind of furrowed expression too, because Gale is quick to keep explaining.

“She was my best friend. And I cared about her a lot. Still do.”

I think I can feel my heart twang within my chest. Before I can think about that too much though, the flickering fire of annoyance within comes to the rescue.

“But I was just too wrapped up in myself,” Gale says, sighing, “Too wrapped up in the war. I don’t know. I didn’t pay attention to her as much as I should’ve. I didn’t realize what she wanted, didn’t know what she needed.”

He takes another deep breath.

“Obviously it was you. And I shouldn’t have fought against that as hard as I did.”

I can’t help but nod slightly against the door. Despite my distrust for him though, and the situation, I find myself continuing to listen intently.

“After the rebellion I was worried she’d never heal but...Here she is with you, alive, happy...pregnant...”

Almost as if on cue, the baby stirs softly, and I go back to rubbing my stomach. I can feel the tension levels easing down, only slightly, but still.

“Thank you for giving her this life. For being there for her. Trying to wedge myself between that was...inexcusable. I’m sorry.”

I’m surprised to feel my breath catch, and I lean my head back, looking towards the ceiling as I contemplate things, as I process. Where did this all come from? I never would have expected anything of the sort from him. The last time we saw each other, I was perfectly content on never seeing him ever again. And now he’s here, in my house, apologizing to my husband?

I shake my head again, scowling. Damn Gale. I guess I wasn’t safe from the confusion he inflicts after all.

Admittedly though, this...is far more welcomed. He’s perplexing, but not in the way I was so accustomed to years ago. 

I am still annoyed with him though, for making me attempt to figure it out.

There’s another pause, less awkward this time. Peeta must be trying to process things too. I hear him heave a gentle sigh, before he speaks up again.

“You loved her. You didn’t know what to do. We both didn’t.”

It’s the first time throughout this exchange that my husband’s words have made my throat tighten. I find myself worrying my bottom lip, knowing it’s the truth but hating to hear it.

Following the pattern of oddity, Gale gives a sort snort.

 “No, if I really loved her I wouldn’t have acted how I did. To either of you.”

The sigh that departs from deep within my lungs syncs up perfectly with Peeta’s.

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmurs, “It’s in the past now.”

“...You can’t speak for Katniss though.”

“No,” Peeta agrees, “I can’t.”

And he’s right. He can’t. Peeta understands me like no one else does, but I don’t even think he can figure out the complexity of what all I’m feeling right now. For the record, I don’t think I can either.

I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t want this. Things have already been so crazy lately. I didn’t need more wounds from my past to reopen.

And I don’t want to forgive him.

But I feel...eased. I feel slightly lifted. It’s equivalent to putting a bandaid on a scar, sure. Doesn’t erase the fact that the scar is still there. But...it still feels oddly better than having the scar ugly and untreated.

Before I can get too wrapped up in my thoughts, Peeta’s gentle and sincere voice breaks through.

“...Thank you though, Gale. I appreciate the apology.”

Some kind of movement is audible, and I imagine the two are shaking hands again. If anything, I guess I’m glad that Gale and Peeta are on better terms.

But where does that leave me.

It’s like they read my mind, my energy, directing their conversation my way after another pause.

“Should...we check on her?” Gale asks.

Peeta replies with a long breath, before audibly answering.

“I think...she just needs some time. This was all very sudden. Guess anything else will have to happen on her terms.”

I love you, Peeta.

I let out a shaky breath, feeling Gale’s tension before he relents.

“Right. Sorry for showing up with no notice.”

“It’s alright,” Peeta murmurs, letting out a huff of mirth, “Definitely took us by surprise though.”

They both share a strained, quiet laugh, before things go quiet. There’s the awkwardness again, like neither of them are sure where to proceed. They both know they can’t force me out. So after a few more pauses, Gale backs off with a sigh.

“Alright. Well, good seeing you, Peeta,” he says, “Take care of yourself.”

“You too. Safe travels.”

More pauses, before I hear a pair of departing footsteps, followed by another. I recognize the heavier tread of my husband, sounding like it’s slowly departing off towards the kitchen again. Gale sounds closer, likely heading for the front door.

And that’s when I feel completely strange. That’s when all the swirling emotions take hold. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know is about to take place. But I find myself standing up and bursting through the door, tearing back through the house.

I round a corner, and freeze at the sight of him. His back is turned to me as he collects his things, but he raises his head and stills at my approach. I thought I had been silent on my feet, but I guess my pregnancy makes my footsteps a bit harder. That, or his hunting background must still be evident despite years in District Two.

Either way, I inwardly curse, and consider darting away before he can say anything.

I find that I’m still locked into place though. And he beats me to it anyway.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

Him talking to Peeta was easy to stomach. But for some reason, him talking to me after so long instantly makes me defensive, a scowl hardening my features with building nasty words to match.

“I wouldn’t forgive me either,” he continues, still turned away from me, “But I have to apologize to you anyway.”

I feel myself trembling, close to bolting or yelling, I’m not sure which. Again, he doesn’t give the luxury of deciding. He instead turns to face me, our grey eyes connecting in a strange hold. It’s very quick to make me feel nauseous, the whole thing a bit much to handle. I don’t know why I chased him in the first place.

I want Peeta. I want to go back into hiding. I want...

“Katniss...” he says, his voice saddened and just barely above a whisper.

My nostrils flare, numerous responses attempting to surface but failing. He takes it as a cue to go on.

“Will you at least listen to what I have to say?”

My body tenses up, like a cat arching its spine. I don’t say yes, but I don’t say no either. That leaves us in a strange limbo for a bit, with Gale being the one to venture out of it.

“I was bent out of shape. I was too caught up in my own interests. So caught up that I forgot how to treat you as my best friend. Hardly anything else mattered.”

I’m heaving shaky breaths, feeling a glassy, angry sheen form at the bottom of my eyes.

“It wasn’t right of me at all. It won me the battle I was fighting but at what cost.”

I watch as he swallows hard, his expression dropping further.

“Katniss, I’m so sorry about...”

He chokes on his apology, unable to finish. I know what he’s referring to though. The thought is enough to break the glass, a single, hot tear rolling down my cheek. I want so badly to swipe it away, but I’m completely motionless.

At this, he seems to droop, pain clearly reading across his face.

“I’m sorry...”

I close my eyes, trying not to think too hard about anything. I attempt to shut it out, reverting to hardness as I always have.

“We’ve been here before, Gale,” I say, my tone cold but catching slightly at the utterance of his name.

“I know. And nothing I can say will fix it.”

“No.” 

He heaves a shaky breath himself, and switches course away from that awful topic.

“So, I guess I’ll just say that...I’m so happy for you.”

This is enough to bring my eyes back into view, and I’m stunned to see him wearing a sad smile.

“I never would have been able to say this years ago. But really, I’m happy you’re here, with Peeta. He...really cares about you. And it’s good to see that you’re happy too. That you love him.”

I blink slowly, instinctively resting my hands atop my stomach at the talk of my husband, the talk of love.

“That’s all I could have wanted. You to be happy and safe. And he’s done that for you. All that and more. I’m glad, Katniss. I really am.”

I don’t want to believe him. I don’t want to believe any of this. But his expression, his voice...It all seems so oddly genuine. I mean, why would he show up here to say all of this if he didn’t really mean it?

My breath catches, and I blow it out slowly, beginning to shift my hands across the strained fabric of my shirt, comforting myself. I nearly stop when I see Gale’s gaze momentarily flit down to my stomach, but it’s too quick of a glance.

“Seeing you...like this...I know everything’s just right for you. And that he was right all along.”

“It is. He is.”

I of course expect him to sulk, but he simply nods, continuing to gently smile.

“I think I can breathe easier now, that’s for sure.”

I fall slightly agape, unable to hide the perplexity swirling around my subconscious.

“Why...do you...”

“Care?” he finishes for me.

When I give a slight nod, he continues, “Spending time away from home made me reflect I guess. It’s weird being there without really knowing anyone. It’s weird not being able to hunt.”

It’s his turn to look away, his eyes flitting down for a moment before reconnecting with mine.

“...I’ve missed you, Katniss.”

It’s back to me looking away, my throat tightening up as well. I can feel his gaze on me, and lets out a mirthless puff of air.

“Know that’s probably not mutual.”

I’m about to start scowling at what sounds like a guilt trip, but he sweeps away my building annoyance.

“Which is okay. And...understandable,” he huffs.

Another awkward beat, the two of us shifting on our feet. Of course Gale is the one to cut it, his voice the gentlest it’s been this entire time.

“I just had to apologize. Get that all off my chest. I owed it to both you and Peeta for too long. I really am sorry, Katniss. For everything.”

When I don’t respond, hanging my head as moisture settles in my eyes again, he lets out another sigh. 

I won’t forgive him. I can’t forgive him. But I can at least...accept this, accept what he’s said. I can at least acknowledge that I appreciate his strange shift in mindsets.

Not with words though, of course. Not by saying something. So, almost as if on their own accord, my feet are carrying me towards him, closing our proximity for the first time in nearly a decade. I barely have the time to register his shocked expression before I’m against him, as best as my rotund stomach will allow.

The feeling of him against me, the ashen scent that floods my nose, is almost enough to make me gag, to make me think that this was a mistake. I’ve gotten accustomed to speaking through physical gestures. But with him, with Gale...

I tense, my breath speeding up considerably. But when he slowly and hesitantly completes the embrace, when his arms come around me...

There’s an absence of warmth, yes. But the familiarity, the promise of sincerity in his apology...

One or two tears manage to break free, streaming down my cheeks and signalling a breach in my composure. I have to break away before I let my emotions get the best of me. I guess after all of these years, after everything that happened, I still can’t let him see me cry. So I tug back against his hug, breaking it and avoiding his gaze.

“You and Peeta take care of yourselves,” he murmurs, finally signalling his departure.

I nod softly, starting to fidget with the bottom of my shirt.

“And...congratulations,” he says; I can see him nod towards my stomach out of the corner of my eye, “I can’t believe you’re about to become a mother...”

Again, I nod, my lip trembling ever so slightly.

There’s another pause, and then he murmurs his departing words.

“Good seeing you, Catnip...”

I heave at the utterance of the old nickname, finally looking at him again. He gives me one last saddened smile, before slowly turning back towards the door. He opens it, and is quick to venture out into the rainy weather, his form disappearing into the mists of Twelve like a shadowy apparition, like he was never even here.

I walk out onto the porch after he goes, before stepping into the gentle rain myself. I need it to stay in touch with reality. I need it to make sure that wasn’t some weird dream.

My grey gaze travels skyward towards the matching clouds, allowing the cold droplets to splash across my face. It feels cleansing, therapeutic.

Kind of like...the whole exchange that was just had. Cold, could be considered unpleasant even, but...perhaps needed. Cathartic.

Like some kind of weird closure to something that was so painful.

I open my eyes and lower my head, blinking away the tears and rain. I suddenly feel chilled out in the deluge, after such a conversation, needing warmth like nothing else. I spin on my heels and dart back into the house, seeking the only person who can give me that.

“...Peeta?” I call, though it comes out more like a whimper, my composure swaying dangerously.

“In here, love,” he tenderly replies.

I follow his voice into the living room to find him sitting on the couch in front of the roaring fire, a fresh plate of cheesebuns on the coffee table beside him. He’s wrapped in a blanket, and as grey meets soft blue, he holds it open in an invitation, one I don’t hesitate in taking.

In mere seconds I’m against him, burying my face into his neck, into everything that he is. And as he wraps half of the blanket around me, as he nuzzles me and peppers me with comforting kisses, all the crazy emotions that had been boiling up in me surface.

I cry. I sob. I wheeze my tears against my husband until I can barely breathe. He’s extraordinarily patient with me throughout, letting me get it out and not saying a word, simply stroking my hair or giving me soft kisses.

When I’ve exhausted myself, when I’ve drained myself of feeling, I sniffle and reveal my face again, snuggling further against Peeta. He of course is aware of the shift, and wraps his arms around me in a loving embrace.

“Hey...” he whispers, pressing his lips against my forehead, “You okay?”

“I...I think so...” I whisper back, my chest continuing to shiver with the occasional sob.

Peeta nods slowly, and continues to caress and kiss me. I have to give him credit; he doesn’t pry, doesn’t ask any questions about what happened. He puts the conversation entirely in my hands, only discussing what I feel comfortable with.

I allow the shivers coursing through my system to lessen, the fire and rain to soothe, and my husband to nurture, before I softly speak up again.

“He tried to apologize before...”

Peeta stops peppering me with his lips only to lean back a tad, listening intently to my soft explanation.

“After...after Prim...”

Her name comes out as a croak, which gets me another gentle kiss to the cheek before my husband leans back once more.

“I couldn’t forgive him then. Still couldn’t now.”

I can see Peeta’s mouth slightly tighten out of the corner of my eye, but he doesn’t say anything, simply nodding.

“I don’t know though...Something felt...different today...Better...”

“Yeah?” Peeta murmurs.

“Yeah...I don’t know. Maybe I’m just wrapped up in how unexpected it was...And weird...”

My husband lets out a puff of mirth, his hand softly drifting across my shoulder, rubbing gentle caresses

“It was...pretty weird, admittedly,” he agrees with a chuckle, before his voice runs serious again, “But...I think it was a good thing...”

I nod slowly, simply gazing towards the fire as I think things over. The flames have lessened a bit, not crackling and popping as strongly. Just like Gale; his flames seemed to have died down too. Neither are as aggressive anymore, as overpowering. That’s definitely not a bad thing at all.

A soft sigh huffs from my nose. I wonder if he’s ever going to stop by again. I don’t think I’d be affected if he didn’t. But I also don’t think I’d be full of hatred if he did.

Strange. I didn’t expect to make some sort of semblance of peace with so many things today. Everything really does seem to be easing into harmony, into gentleness.

“What about you?” I finally murmur into the comfortable silence.

“Hmm?”

“How’re you feeling about it?”

“Oh,” Peeta replies with a puff of soft laughter, “Ah, about the same as you I guess. Weirded out.”

I return the huff of laughter, and my husband chuckles more before continuing.

“I just...never expected him to show me gratitude.”

“Or apologize.”

“Oh, you heard?”

I nod, my voice dropping a tad in pitch, protectiveness and possessiveness swirling throughout.

“About time he actually showed you proper respect and appreciation.”

My sudden seriousness must take Peeta by surprise, because he halts his caresses and movements. When he gets a load of my scowl though, my grumpiness, he lets out another soft huff, his facial expression melting back into tenderness.

“I appreciate your concern, but I don’t really matter in this, sweetheart. What’s more important to me is that he showed that respect to you.”

“No, he needed to understand how much I love you, Peeta. How much you mean to me. I don’t think he does entirely, don’t think anyone does. At least he has a better idea now.”

Again, I’ve stunned my husband. Only this time, I can see a wonderful, shy smile slowly stretching his features. It reminds me of the smile he gave me when I thanked him for the pearl, or the smile he gave me when I first told him I loved him.

He hangs his head a bit, letting out a soft laugh.

“You’re...incredible, you know that?”

I feel my scowl shifting towards a smile now as well, shaking my head at his compliment.

“Alright. Well, how about we say that...it was good for both of us, and that I love you to the point where I can’t properly express it myself,” he murmurs.

“Hmm...Guess I’ll have to settle for that.”

This time when Peeta laughs, I’m unable to stop myself from doing so too. And I finally turn to look at him for the first time since sitting down, as he’s actually the person I can give a proper physical gesture to.

“Peeta?”

“Hmm?”

I take a moment to appreciate his tender stare, his striking features, his ever growing smile when our eyes meet. I cannot help but smile softly in return, my tone growing lighter.

“There’s...a kiss with your name on it...”

The way his face manages to light up even more, even brighter than the embers beside us, melts my heart.

We kiss and embrace until we run hotter than the fire, until the cheesebuns beside us run cold. We caress until the cold dampness still clinging to my skin shifts elsewhere, until the possessiveness really wants to take over. We ravish each other until we drown out the rain pounding on the roof, until we give each other all the love and appreciation we can offer.

Later, we lay in bed as both us and the evening weather cool down, our bare bodies tangled and our hands laced across our precious one nestled within me. Mental and physical exhaustion set in as I nestle closer to Peeta, lazily peppering him with kisses. But after everything, after such an odd turn of events...I feel whole.

My week had started with mounting worry, with growing fear. And now, it’s ending with heightening peace, with easing tension. It’s ending with things tying up in strange, lovely little knots. It’d ending with more of a focus on what’s ahead, less of what’s behind us.

In the loving arms of my husband, I don’t have any nightmares. And with the apologies still hanging in my conscious, my scars hurt a little less.

[ramenkween]

I Wasn’t There To Take His Place

Steve Harrington x Billy Hargrove x female reader

Summary told from Steve’s perspective: You, Steve and Billy have been friends since childhood. Steve has always had a crush on you but has kept his feelings dormant since you and Billy started dating. Billy, however, becomes possessed by The Mind Flayer and dies. You’re distraught over his death that you leave Hawkins, and Steve is heartbroken.

This is inspired by Gale Song by The Lumineers, which the song was written for The Hunger Games: Catching Fire. Vocalist Wesley Schultz wrote the song in the perspective of Gale Hawthorne and told Billboard Magazine “He is a man in the shadows, left waiting in the wings as Katniss takes stage with Peeta.” - so I thought that went nicely with the plot I’m going for in this story that Steve watches the reader being happy with Billy. Hope you enjoy!

Word count from start of story: 1,254

...

Steve’s POV:

It’s a lonely road

Full of tired men

And you can see it in their faces

It’s been almost a year since you left Hawkins to live with your aunt in Port Huron. Every day since has been a little more quiet and rather lonely. But you had every right to leave even though I wished upon every star that you stayed.

I heard from your mom that you’ll be visiting soon, right? I hope so!

Things are the same I suppose; I’m still working at the video store with Robin, trying to save up as much as I can so that one day I can leave this dreaded town, too. It’s funny though, just last week when I was closing up I found a video tape of 2001: A Space Odyssey, and it immediately brought back the memory of when we were around 12; you and Billy came over to my house to watch it when I was sick from an ear infection. Even before then I knew I was in love with you. Of course, I didn’t say anything - how could I have said anything when you told me that very same day you started to like Billy as more than friends.

And you’ll be home in spring

I can wait til then

I heard you’re on a big train

And all this too shall pass

This loneliness won’t last long

But all I ever wanted was for you to be happy, so I kept quiet. Did you know that before Billy asked you to be his girlfriend, he asked me if I’d be okay with it? I swallowed my pride hard. Billy knew I had feelings for you. He told me, “but I have feelings for her, too. I’ve never felt this way about anybody, and you know I’m not one to fall in love so easily. Look man, I’m sorry if I’ve gotten in the way —“

“No you’re not getting in the way of anything, Billy” I said to him. “Y/N is a great girl. And besides, that thing I felt about her... was a long time ago. And you’re so stupid, you know. She’s been in love with you since the sixth grade. But it’s okay, Billy. Really. I’m happy for you both.”

And I really was, Y/N. I was beyond happy for you two; Billy finally found someone to hold him down, and you got what you always wanted. The last thing I could’ve ever wanted was to lose you both. What I loved about the two of you finally being together was that you still let me hang out with you. Sure, third wheeling sucked at first, but it was just like any other day but just with you and Billy kissing each other. And if you and Billy were ever arguing, you’d both come to me in secret asking what to do next. I told you both the same thing, “you love each other. You’ve always loved each other. That beats any stupid argument you have, and it’ll take more than that to break the two of you apart.”

Then one night, you came to my house practically distraught; you told me that Billy broke up with you and didn’t love you anymore. I didn’t understand it. I was more confused than angry, because I knew how much Billy loved you. Hell, he was already thinking about asking to marry you. So when we both figured out what was wrong with him, we prayed that we wouldn’t be too late to save him.

I wasn’t there to take his place

I was ten thousand miles away

So when you hear my voice

When you say my name

May it never give you pain

But what we feared came true, and it all happened in a blink. And then the next thing I saw was you cradling his limp body, so weak and frail from being under the control of The Mind Flayer for so long. You screamed and cried, begging the universe to let him live to see the sun again.

I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to save him. You might not blame me for what happened but I’ll be blaming myself for the rest of my life. I promised that I’d try to save him for you, but I failed.

God, you cried for so many weeks straight. And I’d go home every day crying myself to sleep, too. I lost one best friend, and I was slowly losing you too. I felt useless and hopeless all at once because I didn’t know what to do to make you feel alright again, because in truth Y/N, I still had feelings for you, even though I told Billy I didn’t. And if I never told you, I knew it’d eat me up and I’d regret it if I didn’t say anything.

But suddenly you broke the news that you were leaving Hawkins; you just couldn’t stay in a town where the love of your life wasn’t there anymore. You cried and told me you didn’t want to leave me, but I told you to go. Caring about your feelings more than mine has always been how it is, and I knew that you deserved to find peace and solace. So once again, I kept my mouth shut. I let you go.

I don’t wanna go

But it’s time to leave

You’ll be on my mind, my destiny

But I won’t fight in vain

I’ll love you just the same

Your mom’s shown me photos of you in Port Huron; you’re looking well and seem to be doing great. I know getting in touch with each other has been a bit difficult, but every letter or call I get from you is worthwhile. Heaven knows I wish things could be back to the way they were. I wish that Billy was still alive to be here for you, and to have my best friend back. We always spoke about travelling the world; we the legendary trio carving our initials into the trees of every country we visit. Knowing that if I was able to save him, I would’ve stolen the money out of my dad’s safe and the three of us would be somewhere in Europe; I know that you’ve always wanted to go to Paris and wear a red beret and eat all the French pastries with a view of the Eiffel Tower.

I couldn’t know what’s in your mind

But I saw the pictures, you’re looking fine

And there was a time when I stood in line

For love, for love, for love

But I let you go, oh I let you go

I miss you, Y/N. I miss you and Billy so damn much. I guess maybe in another life, another alternate dimension where things are perfect, the three of us would still be together. I lost both of you that night on the Fourth of July, and if there was any way that I could bring Billy back so it meant getting you back and being happy, then I promise you that I’d find it within all the strength I have left to do that.

I love you Y/N and it doesn’t matter if you don’t feel the same way. There is nothing in this world that I wouldn’t do for you, even if it means watching you be in love with someone else.

And he fell apart with his broken heart

And this blood, this blood, this blood

Oh, it drains from my skin, it does

[flutistbyday-1]

All Too Well

All Too Well   

I do not own The Hunger Games, characters, etc. I do not own “All Too Well” by Taylor Swift; I was just inspired by her song. Set after Mockingjay, but AU. Katniss and Peeta work through the loss of a baby. This is an old piece of mine; I wrote it in 2016. Sorry for the jumping POV's-- I'm too lazy to go back and fix it.

            TW: Miscarriage 

    Word Count: almost 1500

 Peeta

I climbed the stairs, fully aware of what I was doing. I was going to my drawer and pull out her scarf. I didn’t feel like I was in control. I felt like some other entity was moving me like a toy. Almost like a puppet. I was going to find her scared. And I was going to smell it; smell her. I opened the drawer, dug to the bottom, and pulled out her scarf. It was folded neatly.  I pulled it to my face and breathed in her scent. This was torture. 

    I fell to my knees. 

    Yes, I miss Katniss.

How did I get here? Desperately craving her, but knowing I could never have her? I let her in, always. Even when it killed me. 

I pulled the scarf up to my face, fondly remembering that day. I dared to let a smile crawl on my face.

    Kaniss

    I miss Peeta.

    With every fiber of my being, I missed him. Almost more than my father, Prim, Gale. 

    I remember when I first let him back into my life. Three months after he came back, it was official-- he and I were together. It was getting chilly out, so I had a scarf around my neck. My white scarf that Prim had knitted for me one winter. I blew into his house, our house. He stared at me, like I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. We sang together that day, lost in the other’s company. The autumn leaves were falling, the pieces of our lives falling into place. That day was magical. That day is long gone, along with the magic.

    My mind flashes to the next day. We were walking around town. Peeta tripped over a rock in the road because he’d been too busy staring at me. The wind did as it pleased to my hair, my face. He told me I was glowing. I smiled at him. 

    A few months later, and I still hurt. Sometimes I forget about him just long enough to forget why I needed to.

Peeta

    Katniss was in such a good mood that night. We were both hungry around two in the morning, so we crawled downstairs. We danced in the moonlight until it was time for breakfast. I remember seeing the grey light of dawn reflect in her grey eyes. 

    At breakfast, Haymitch showed up with something. A photo album of Peeta. She scrambled over to it, and they giggled at it. It had somehow been saved from the wreckage of the bombing. There’s a picture of me and Rye wrestling. A picture of me with icing all over my face, from a birthday. A blush crept over my face. Katniss and Haymitch cooed over my baby self. She looked back at me, and whispered something to Haymitch. He laughed, and said, “Me too, sweetheart. Me too.”

    When he left, I asked her what she said. 

    “I told him that I hope our kids look like you,” she beamed.

    Kids? Katniss has the world children in her vocabulary?

Katniss

    My stomach still hurts from it sometimes. I remember the day I woke up with blood covering me. I screamed, which woke Peeta up. I pulled back the covers, and we both started crying. We called mother. She said we needed a doctor. Fortunately, after the war, hospitals became common. No matter how many towels I had, blood soaked them.

    We ran to the hospital. Well, Peeta ran, while I was in his arms. 

    I passed out in the hospital. I woke to find Peeta crying, holding my hand. 

    “Oh, Katniss!” he cried.

    Panic filled me, and I ripped the blanket off of me. My belly was still swollen, but the baby in it was no longer alive. I looked up at him, wanting this to be just a dream.

    He nodded his head yes, and I screamed again. I started cussing, moving, hitting anything in my way. The nurses had to sedate me.

    Tears flood down my face as I think of this. 

Peeta

    My mind drifts to the day of the miscarriage. No, not even the Capitol could have imagined hurting me like this. Nobody had any idea the pain Katniss and I had. Katniss, more so than myself. It had been an accident, conceiving. We got hung up in the moment, forgot protection. She cried for a month after she found out she was pregnant. Nothing could console her. 

    After the--we lost the baby, it took  her a few weeks to be able to walk. As soon as she could, she tore through the house, straight to my paintings. She ripped up the one of us in the cave. Then, the one of her and I one the train. One of her and Prim. One of her father and her hunting. Finally, the one of me kissing her belly. She knocked over my easels, flung my paints around the room. I just watched her. 

    I wasn’t upset that she was tearing up paintings. I hurt because she hurt, because there was nothing I could do. 

    Maybe she and I got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much. Maybe, just maybe, this thing was a masterpiece and I tore it all up.

Katniss

    It’s been a year since the miscarriage. I don’t talk to Peeta. It hurts to be reminded of the baby. One day, he calls me. I know it’s him. He’s the only one who calls. Haymitch stumbles in, knowing my pain. He gives me liquor. He makes sure I shower and eat. 

    Today, I decide to answer.

    “Hi,” I barely whisper.

    “Katniss,” his voice is pleading. “Katniss, honey, come home.”

    “No!” I scream.

    “You know what, Katniss? You need to stop being so selfish! You aren’t the only one who’s hurt, you know!” His tone was no longer pleading. 

    My heart drops. Peeta has never been this harsh.

    “No, Katniss. I didn’t mean it,” he pleads again.

    My response is to hang up the phone, and I crumple on the floor like a piece of discarded paper. Like the papers I crumple when I can’t get the right words on them. 

    I remember this all too well.

Peeta

    This year has been slow, so slow. It’s like I’m paralyzed by time. 

    I almost give up on Katniss. I leave her things on her porch one day, when I know she’s out hunting.I remember when she wore my shirts, and the nights I made her my own. I see her walk home alone, and I want to be there. But I keep her old scarf, from that very first week. It reminds me of my innocence, and it smells just like her. I can’t get rid of it, because I remember it all too well. 

    I sigh, stand up, and tuck the scarf back into place. 

    I go downstairs, and sit at the kitchen table. 

    I can’t cry. 

Two years after we lose the baby, my will cracks. I hadn’t been sleeping at night anymore. I baked. The whole town had free bread almost twice a day. 

It was three in the morning, and I couldn’t help myself anymore. I hear Katniss scream in her nightmares. Her screams will wake the town if I don’t wake her. This is the last straw. I put on a shirt, and I go to her house. Her door isn’t locked. I march upstairs, into her bedroom. I must have woken her up, because she stares at me, alarmed. 

“Peeta!” she whispers.

“I can’t handle this, Katniss! I spent eleven fucking years to make you mine. I lost myself for you. I did everything I could to make you happy! Now I can’t even do that.” I had started out angry, but my resolve had crumbled under her knowing stare. 

When she didn’t say anything, I flipped. 

I picked her up out of her bed, marched down the stairs, out of her house, into mine, and into my bedroom. She protested, but I was stronger. I could tell she hadn’t been eating much.

I put her on my bed, and pinned her down. Fear had been replaced with anger.

“Let me go!” she hissed.

“I can’t do that, Katniss.”

I kissed her. I kissed her until she stopped resisting, until she kissed me back. I pulled back, but she pulled me back in. 

“Katniss,” I mumble between kisses. She doesn’t stop. I push her down, gently this time. “Katniss, we can’t heal without the other. We’ve proved that already. Why do you push me away?” 

She shakes her head, then looks up. “I’m so sorry, Peeta. I’ve missed you so badly. But I was afraid you’d never forgive me.” Tears threatened to pour, but I kissed her sweetly this time. She wraps her arms around me tightly. 

I wasn’t going to let her go again.

The memory of her being gone is one I remember all too well.

[alliswell21]

@duckpotatodandelion’s Prompt: “I do love me a coffee shop au.”

Rated T

This was writen last night and edited this morning before I had to run errands, so my apologies for any errors.

Also, since @duckpotatodandelion had that post about hot chocolate, I may have deviated her Prompt a bit... 😳... fine! a bunch... 🙈 don’t tell anyone!!!!

☕️ ☕️ ☕️

I walk into the Starbucks and wrinkle my nose in the first breath. I’m not a coffee person, the dark concoction loosens my stomach for whatever reason, but thanks to my boss, Plutarch Heavensbee, I have around $100 in Starbucks gift cards that only keep piling up for every occasion that requires management to give the employees recognition.

I’m guessing the man thinks coffee shop gift cards are the hip thing to do, and say whatever you want about Plutarch, that man is still trying to stay relevant.

One look at the line and I quickly realize I must be the only soul in this planet that doesn’t care for coffee. I sigh to myself, stepping in line with the rest of the morning rushers, wondering how does the son of a baker could’ve develop such an aversion to coffee, when it’s perhaps the hot drink most served in my father’s shop?

Since I’m number 2002 (fine, that’s an exaggeration on my part) in this line, I decide to spend my time people watching and trying to guess what they do for a living for a bit, it’s not like I can see the menu from where I stand, though the baristas seemed to be pretty proficient at their jobs, dispatching drink after drink like caffeinated fairy godparents.

The first customer in line is a severe looking woman with straight, gray hair that falls into a perfect curtain down to her shoulders; she’s wearing a gray power suit and gray comfortable shoes; when she turns around with her distinctive paper cup in hand I realize her eyes are the same hue of gray as her hair and outfit. It’s like all color has been drain from her. I’m going to call her Madam Monochrome. Or maybe Coin, since she reminds me of silver change. I wonder if she lives down in an underground bunker and only came up to surface because coffee is banned in her secret lair, that would explain the monotone colors. If that’s the case, she must be the president of the underground community, otherwise I don’t see how she was allowed to leave.

Next, is a guy with a wiry frame, ashen skin, balding. His glasses keep sliding down the bridge of his nose, so he pushes them back up with the middle finger of his hand. He’s carrying a laptop briefcase, the padded kind you don’t have to completely open in the TSA line at the airport for the x-ray machines. I’m going to call him Beetee, because that’s what the logo in his case says. He’s probably a genius, working for the next iPod nano device that may fit 3 gigabytes of music into chip as big as a grain of rice. Then again, he could be plotting to overthrow some totalitarian government, by breaking into the TV transmission with well placed anti government propaganda… he’d call them Propos for short, because he doesn’t have time to say the whole word. He’s too busy inventing weapons to chat.

Next, is a man tall, dark and very handsome. The kind women swoon after. I’m sure when he was in high school, girls giggled about him behind their notebooks and commented on how cute he was. He turns his head my way, probably feeling my gaze on him; he only spares me a glance and turns back to stare at the baristas impassively. Good looking Jerk! I bet he’s the military type. Fancy job at some highly rated base, with a huge family that adores him and look up to him. He also looks the type to own hunting gear. He’s probably a sharp shooter too… I can already picture him bringing home a twelve point deer he shot through the neck and a handful of dead, fat rabbits hanging from his belt, he caught in his snares, because what do you know? he’s also a whiz with snares! I should move on from his rigid form. For some reason I don’t think we would ever be friends, him and I. I bet we are total opposites. I’m gonna call him Gale, because he probably has a temper that would wreak havoc, like a strong willed gust of wind.

Behind Gale, there’s a little old lady I’m gonna call Mags, because she looks like she could be a Mags. She seems kind, but there’s something about her face that looks almost like one side is sagging. It saddens me. Maybe she had a stroke at some point, in which case, the mere fact she’s standing in line to get a hot beverage in a busy shop shows her resilience and strength. Good for Mags! I hope she gets to live a hundred more years. She deserves it.

Then, my eyes find two young women. One is blonde and blue eyed, while the other is a brunette with smooth olive skin. Both have matching braids which is strange. Most women don’t wear the same hairdos unless they’re in some kind of play, or maybe they’re twins… there have been cases with twins that physically aren’t even the same race. The two ladies are standing shoulder to shoulder. The blond keeps talking and gesturing with her hands animatedly, while the brunette looks on with rapt attention, nodding and smiling at the blonde. Brunette laughs out loud and I’ve never heard anything as musical as that before.

While pondering on names and imaginary backgrounds for the women, I try to lean on a display of collectible mugs, to disastrous results.

The whole shelf uppends under my weight and sends every single mug careening to the floor with a loud crash, with me, following closely. To say I’m embarrassed would be a gross understatement.

“Oh my gosh! Are you okay?” Asks Blondie, blue eyes dripping with concern. “Your hand is bleeding, sir.” She states looking down at my hand, just as a barista comes to help me up from the floor, where I’m sitting on my ass surrounded by the broken pieces of the mugs I just murdered.

“I’m okay. Thank you.” I say trying to save face.

“Nonsense! Katniss, help me here!” Blondie calls to Brunette who’s looking at me with pity and apprehension.

“Prim…” Brunette sighs more than says, but comes closer all the same, “I don’t think I’ll be that much help. Sorry.” She says locking eyes with me, like she truly is chagrined she can’t help.

“I’m okay, really.” I say finally on my feet. I nod to the Starbucks employee. “I’m sorry about the mess. Talk about a bull in a China shop, right?!”

Brunette fights off a smirk at my self deprecating joke and I swear my heart swells in my chest.

Looking back at the young man helping me, I address him. “You wouldn’t be able to give me a veteran discount to pay for the mugs I broke, would you?”

He just stares at me for a second, “I- I’m not sure, dude. Are you cool? Do you need me to call 911? Your hand has a pretty big gash.”

“I’m a registered nurse, I can help him and take him to my hospital if he needs extra care.” Says Blondie… Prim, Brunette— Katniss— had called her.

“I really am alright—“ I stop talking when I lift my hand and see for myself the gnarly long cut in my hand. It goes from the side of the palm, to right under the thumb, like a jagged smile on the heel of my freaking hand.

I go woozy for a moment, and find myself sitting in a chair with Katniss pressing a cup of water to my good hand. “Drink this. My sister is gonna take good care of you, and then we will drive you to the ER so you can get a note from her boss telling your employer why you’re late.”

“Okay,” I say simply staring at her. She’s got the most amazing gray eyes ever, with specks of blue all over the iris. She’s gorgeous from this close.

“What’s your name?” She asks.

“Peeta Mellark.” I say automatically.

“Hi Peeta Mellark, I’m Katniss Everdeen. What else can you tell me about yourself?”

I think she’s trying to keep me distracted while her sister cleans my cut at the very back of the coffee house, where we can still hear the clinking of ceramic pieces being swept into a dustpan and then chucked into the trash. The silver lining is that they’re taking all my gift cards as payment for the broken cups!

“I’m a painter on a TV production company. I truly am a veteran. Lost my leg somewhere in Iraq. I came in here just for a cup of tea without sugar, how lame is that?”

“I’m sorry about your leg, but thank you for your service.” She says wincing a little. She recovers quickly. “I don’t like coffee either, this is more of Primrose’s addiction. The stuff makes me jittery and jumpy. I’m more of a hot chocolate kind of person.”

“Ditto!” I exclaim. “Dip some chunks of bread into the chocolate for a homier experience, and you’re in hot cocoa heaven!”

“Gotta try that, so much better than coffee!”

“Sure, hate on the drink all you want, but imagine the stories I’m going to tell my grand nephews and nieces about how their grandparents met!” Sing-songs Prim still wiping my hand with some rubbing alcohol infused gauze she apparently carries in her purse. “How romantic will that be?! They met at a coffee shop I dragged grandma Katniss to!”

“Prim…” Katniss mutters half hearted under her breath; both sisters glare at each other for a bit.

I have the distinct feeling this is a conversation they’ve had before and disagree upon.

In and effort to break the siblings staring contest, I dig around my brain for something to say, but instead of wit and charm, I come up with, “What’s your favorite color, Katniss?” Like a fifth grader or something.

She smiles and I feel all warm and tingly inside. “Green. How about yours?”

“Orange. Soft, like a sunset…”

“Mmm! Pretty.” She cocks her head, “What’s your biggest pet peeve?”

“Easy!” I say, “Starbucks microwaves all their pastries! That’s sacrilegious for guy who grew up in a bakery!”

Katniss laughs at that and I hope I can keep her laughing. We keep talking quietly until Primrose declares me ready to go. The cut is mainly superficial, and I won’t need stitches if I keep my injury from re-aggravating.

“So… how can I repay you ladies for the first aid care?” I ask them both smiling.

Primrose opens her mouth with a sly smile, “Take my sister out for a coff—“

“A burger!” Katniss cuts in. “I’ve had enough coffee for the day, but a burger with a chocolate milkshake would be awesome.”

I feel the smile unfurling slowly on my face. “I can do burgers and milkshakes.” I hope Primrose is a good storyteller, my grand babies deserve this story to be told epically.

[ellanainthetardis]

It’s not easy to be a Slayer in training. Or a Watcher for that matter. Let me know your thoughts!

[ff] or [ao3]

3.

Katniss wasn’t having a good day.

She was missing practice again.

And Gale wouldn’t stop asking questions. All day with the questions…

The whole school was buzzing about Cato and Clove’s disappearances and she couldn’t tell anyone that Clove, at least, was…

She kept staring at the house with a scorn on her face.

She had checked the address Haymitch – don’t call me Mr Abernathy when we ain’t in class, sweetheart, makes me feel like a dinosaur – had given her three times and there was no mistake: it was here. He was living in a big house fit to host at least four people, at the very end of the very classy suburbia that had been so expensive that even the wealthiest people in town hadn’t been able to afford it. It had long been abandoned – which was why most of the houses were empty and it looked like a ghost town up there. This, somehow, was a joke.

She had been debating between joke and nightmare since the previous night though.

After they were done eating their burgers, he had taken her to the woods for a patrol. A part of her had wondered if she was crazy to follow him up there where they would be alone and he would be able to do whatever he wanted with her before murdering her like the crazy person he obviously was.

They hadn’t found Cato but they had found the guy who tended to the cashing machine at the gas station. And he had been very intent on eating them for dinner.

Haymitch had been absolutely unhelpful.

He had leaned against a tree and had shouted instructions she had followed as best as she could. She hadn’t known she could fight before, not like that at least. But fighting, it turned out, had become instinctive and it made her body hum with the thrill of the hunt. The feeling when she had dusted that vampire had been incredible but it had only lasted a few seconds. Then her stomach had started churning again because it was uncomfortably and unfamiliarly full and Haymitch, instead of congratulating her, had told her she needed to up her game if she didn’t want to end up dead.

She had argued that she had killed three vampires in two days and he had barely gotten one.

He had replied that they were fledglings and that if they ever encountered a master vampire, they would both be in troubles. Apparently, age and power came hand in hand for vampires.

She needed to train.

He had told her that at least ten times. She needed to train, to become better, to become stronger, to become…

She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to become. Not dead probably.

The thing with Haymitch… One second, she hated him. The next, she pitied him.

He was nasty and mean but half of that seemed to be an act and the other half self-preservation. She could relate.

Anyway, that was how she had ended up staring at a house that looked just as empty as its neighbors, in what could have been the wealthiest part of town if it hadn’t become the most decrepit. The house itself wasn’t in awesome shape. The grass was out of control in the yard and at least two blinds were broken and hanging against the outer wall. It looked just as deserted as the other ones.

She only knew it was the right one because there was a bike parked in the driveway.

Now, the bike didn’t look shiny or new but it looked in pristine conditions as far as she could tell – and she wasn’t an expert on bikes by any means. She knew it was a Harley because the brand was right there for her to spot, white words on the black paint.

The bike was the reason she had checked the address the last two times. She just couldn’t picture Haymitch on a bike, the same way she couldn’t picture him teaching her anything about fighting. Sure, he had dusted that vampire the night they had met and, sure, he had slammed his elbow in Clove’s face… But, then again, he had also gotten bitten.

The front door suddenly opened and Haymitch stood there, glaring at her. “You’re gonna stand out here all day or you’re gonna come in at some point? You won’t learn anything out there, girl.” She scowled but stomped her feet into the house, annoyed to have been caught staring. “Before I forget…” He thrust the vampyr book in her hands before he had even slammed the front door shut. “Homework.”

She placed it in her bag with a little more care than he had shown, still feeling an odd sense of belonging for that book, and kept quiet.

She was ill-at-ease.

She didn’t want to be there but he had said he would help with the money.

The way she saw it, since she didn’t have a choice, she might as well get as much out of this Slayer thing as she could get. She would hunt vampires down and train with him and, in exchange, he would get enough food to feed her sister and he would help her take care of the bills. It was like a job, albeit a dangerous one.

She followed him to the kitchen. There was a plate on the table with a sandwich on it and an unopened bottle of coke next to it.

“Eat.” he muttered, heading to the counter. He poured himself a cup of coffee and added some of whatever he kept in his flask into it.

She felt herself turn red. “I don’t need…”

“It’s just a fucking sandwich not a four stars meal.” he cut her off before she could finish her lie. “You’re gonna burn a lot of calories and I’m pretty sure you didn’t have lunch or breakfast. Eat.”

This time it was an order and, since it was in relation to the job, she could accept it without it being charity. She still regretted accepting Mellark’s piece of cake the previous day. He seemed to think they were friends now. He stopped to greet her in the hallways and chatted with her in Biology until Madge arrived and he never seemed to think it wrong or odd that she only answered by monosyllabic answers. Charity was dangerous.

She cut the sandwich in half and carefully didn’t notice that it had been made and not bought. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had fixed her a snack.

“Eat it all.” he grumbled when he saw what she was doing. “I’ve been to the shop. I have groceries you can take home.”

Her heart was racing again.

How much was risking her life worth? She couldn’t take too much or it wouldn’t be fair, it wouldn’t be a business deal anymore. She couldn’t allow herself to depend on anyone because… It wasn’t just her, it was Prim too and when Haymitch would bail – because adults always bailed…

“Didn’t know being a teacher paid that much.” she shot out.

“Doesn’t.” he dismissed. “The teaching is just for cover. I hate it.” He shook his head. “Being a Watcher pays well and I’ve got few needs.”

“Why this house?” she asked. It was too big, too isolated and there was a musty smell in the air as if it had been closed up too long.

“’Cause I own it and it was easier than go real-estate shopping.” he deadpanned. “Now, stop playing twenty questions and eat your sandwich so I can kick your ass down a peg or two.”

When he led her down to the basement, after she was done eating the whole sandwich, she was very confident he wouldn’t be able to land so much as one hit. She remembered the feeling from the previous night, when she had been fighting that vampire… She had felt incredible. Like she was coming into her own. The power was hers and she had felt invulnerable. He, on the other hand, had no superhuman abilities, was old and, she suspected, a little drunk. Easy prey.

Haymitch had turned the basement into a gym of sort. There was a punching bag dangling from the ceiling in one corner, various weapons mounted on the walls and training equipment crammed into another corner. She inspected the swords and axes with curiosity while he dragged heavy looking gym mats to the center of the room. Some of the blades were rusty. She went over to the punching bag and realized it was a little saggy.

“I’ll get all that fixed.” Haymitch said when he saw what she was looking at. “Most of this stuff is outdated anyway. Start warming up.”

She revised her judgment. He hadn’t turned the basement into a training room. This stuff must have been around for decades.

What had he said about the house again? ‘Cause I own it. From one of the two times he had lived in the Seam?

“So you can shoot a bow.” he said, still arranging mats while she stretched like they did in PE. She felt more and more stupid. “What else?”

“Knife.” She shrugged. “Sometimes when you hunt, you’ve got to use one. I can toss one well enough.”

“Yeah?” he perked up. “Knives were kind of my specialties back in the day. Doesn’t work that well with vampires but they’re not the only bumps in the night. We’ll start with stakes.” He tossed one in her direction without pausing to check if she caught it or got impaled by it – she did catch it. “And your hand to hand combat skills ‘cause let me tell you… You suck. Come here.”

He didn’t bother grabbing a stake and she was a little scared she would hurt him with the pointy end of hers.

She was so confident she would win that it was a total surprise when she ended up flat on her back.

A fluke, she told herself. She was stronger than he was now. She was faster. She was the Slayer.

A few of her kicks and punches landed but mostly because he let her. To her speed and her strength, he opposed actual skills and that… That was harder to deflect. Every time he managed to hit her, he mocked her about what she was doing wrong.

She changed her mind about him not being a terrible teacher.

The third time she ended up on the floor, she decided she was done holding back her punches and she attacked with all she had. It still wasn’t enough to win but there were mistakes she knew she wouldn’t do again.

Underestimating her opponent was one of them.

It lasted for what seemed like hours. And when he finally declared they were done, well past the point where she could form a coherent thought, he handed her two groceries bags, told her to go home to take care of Prim and then meet him at the cemetery at eleven.

She grumbled a lot about it, mostly because all she wanted was a shower and to crash into bed, but he kicked her out the door while she was still protesting.

To make things worse, Prim jumped on her as soon as she crossed the threshold of the little trailer they lived in. “Where have you been? Gale called to ask why you were missing practice again. Have you been missing practice?”

She had wanted to avoid that particular conversation a while longer but there was no escaping her twelve year-old sister, her inquisitive blue eyes, or the demonic cat that followed her everywhere around their home but hissed at Katniss every time Prim’s back was turned. She needed to ask Haymitch about possessed cats.

She carried the groceries back to the kitchen, not surprised not to see their mother anywhere in the main area. She would have been surprised if their mother had been up. She was sometimes. She got up and made waffles and for a few hours she remembered she was supposed to be the adult around there, then she went back to bed, curled up on her side and refused to interact with anyone again.

“Where did you find the food?” Prim insisted, a frown on her small face. “Is that a real apple?”

How bad had things gotten that a twelve year-old was so excited to see an actual fruit? The fruits they ate tended to be dry and come with the cereals. She let Prim snatch the apple and couldn’t help but smile when she saw how delighted she was at the taste.

“The cheeseburger yesterday and now real food…” Prim continued, her mouth full. “Did we win the lottery?”

“I found a job.” she said. “I might not have time for the archery team anymore. I will explain to Gale tomorrow.”

Prim frowned and climbed on the wobbly stool. “But you love archery…”

“Yeah, but…” she hesitated. She did love shooting her bow and she was sure she would have plenty of reasons to practice. Hand to hand combat was all well and good but she didn’t see the point of going to contact if she could take care of the problem at a distance. This being said, Haymitch had been pretty clear her chance of surviving the year were slim. Never mind going all the way to college. She tried not to dwell on her suddenly short lifespan. There was only one thing that counted and that was Prim. “The job is more important right now. And we can finally have some decent meals.”

Her sister watched with an entirely too knowing look on her young face. “It’s not fair. You love practice. I don’t mind eating only cereals…”

“Don’t worry, little duck. The job is cool.” she lied, ruffling her hair.

Prim ducked away from her hand and fixed her braid, laughing a little. “Yeah? What is it?”  

“Superhero.” Katniss teased, putting the groceries away.

“Come on, tell me.” her sister begged and she was soon distracted from the practice question by Katniss’ evasive answers about what kind of work she had found. And she was even more distracted by the box of chocolate chips cookies at the bottom of the bag.

She thanked Haymitch for that one.

At least until she found herself roaming the cemetery later that night.

It was creepy and wrong in all kind of ways. Haymitch lectured her about how to spot the suspicious deaths in the paper in a bored voice while they walked between two rows of fresh graves. Then, he left her alone with a freshly resurrected vampire and watched her struggle against him. He didn’t lift a finger to help, not even when the vampire slammed her against a headstone that broke on impact and left her stunned on the ground. The vampire closed in and she was pretty sure she was going to be the new record for shortest Slayer alive when the demon disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Haymitch was frowning down at her with a very displeased expression.

“You’re too cocky and I won’t always be here to save your ass. You could have taken him if you had been paying attention in training earlier.” he declared.

“I thought you were supposed to give me some advice.” she snarled, jumping back on her feet just to show off.

“You want some advice? Here’s one.” he sneered “Stay alive.”

That concluded that particular day of lesson and set the tone for what happened during the next two weeks.

Katniss’ life had fallen into some kind of routine.

Every day she woke up, she fixed Prim’s breakfast – with actual healthy food now – she went to school, tried to awkwardly deflect Gale’s pressing questions and Peeta’s more and more frequent friendly conversation, went over to Haymitch’s house after school was over, invariably wondered if the bike was his or if he was keeping it for a friend because she had never seen him on it yet, ate whatever snack was waiting for her in the kitchen, pointedly ignored the empty bottles of liquor and the fact that his house was slowly turning into a dumpster of sort, trained with him in the basement to whichever form of torture he had picked that day – hand to hand, sword fighting, pointless exercises of meditation that seemed to annoy him just as much as it did her… – then she would go home to spend some time with Prim, sneak out once her sister was asleep to go roam a cemetery of Haymitch’s choosing, argue with him, kill a few vampires, argue with him some more, and go home to crash in bed.

Rinse and repeat.

Until that Thursday morning when a shadow suddenly fell across the yellowish page of the vampyr book she was painfully trying to study and she looked up, startled, to find Peeta Mellark awkwardly standing there. She was hiding behind the bleachers outside the football field. It wasn’t the smartest hidden place but it had served her well so far.

“What are you reading?” he asked.

“Just some… novel.” she lied.

Before she could do anything, he had snatched the book as if it was the most natural thing to do.

“Vampyr…” he read. “I didn’t know you liked that sort of stuff… What is it about? Is it like Twilight or…”

She was on her feet before he even registered she had moved and had grabbed the book back.

“It’s nothing like Twilight.” she spat. That much, she was sure of. Unlike Twilight, a good vampire didn’t seem to exist. Once a human was turned, they lost their soul. And without a soul to guide them, there was only the demon. And demons weren’t nice. “What do you want?”

He seemed taken aback and flashed her a sheepish smile. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you… I just saw you and…”

“I have to go.” she snapped.  

She ran away before he could offer whatever pastry he had probably brought along for her that day. She wasn’t in the mood to see him make a kicked puppy face when she would refuse and she was in any less of a mood to accept a little more of his pity.

Besides, she was annoyed he had seen the book. She would give it back to Haymitch for safekeeping, she decided. She didn’t dare leave it at home, too afraid Prim would accidentally find it and either figure it all out or have her committed. But it was clear it wasn’t any safer to bring it at school.

Haymitch was pretty insistent on rule two. He kept saying if you got innocent people involved, they inevitably got hurt. And she didn’t believe he was wrong on that front.

She would give the book back to him later, she decided.

“What did Mellark want?” Gale asked, suddenly falling into steps with her as if they had been walking together all along.

She didn’t startle. Because she was the Slayer and Haymitch had been ranting for two days about how she should always be aware of her surroundings at all times. He liked to repeat she was oblivious. She hated it when he was proven right.

“To talk. I don’t know. Why?” she muttered.

“Rory says you’ve quitted the team because you found a job?” he insisted - like he had more or less every day for the last two weeks.

She got mad and stormed away without even bothering with a lie.

Clearly, boys were incapable of understanding subtle messages though.

Madge arrived early to Biology for once and they were making awkward small talk when Peeta stopped in front of their bench, interrupting them with his greeting. He looked nervous and Katniss frowned.

“Hey again” he said with a smile that seemed a little forced. Katniss frowned. Madge looked from her to him, clearly amused by… Katniss wasn’t sure. Apparently, neither Madge’s amusement nor her own silence mattered because Peeta soldiered on. “I was wondering if you had gotten the text? About the party?”

Katniss wasn’t even sure he was talking to her anymore. She glanced at Madge who helpfully nodded.

“I did.” she confirmed. “But I’m not sure I can come… My parents don’t like me going out after dark and The Capitol…” She shook her head, her blond curl bouncing around. “I don’t know… Are you going, Katniss?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” she admitted because it seemed like the quickest way to put an end to the conversation.

The Capitol was a fancy very posh hotel situated in the middle of a meadow, not too far from the northern border of the woods. She could have saved money for ten years and she was pretty sure she still wouldn’t have had enough to pay for one night. It was for wealthy tourists who came to hike in the woods and the surrounding mountains.

“Oh…” Peeta exclaimed, half-relieved and half-disappointed. “We sent a text to everyone. It’s an open invite party… Glimmer’s dad rented The Capitol for the night on Saturday… I was hoping… I mean… I could be your ride. If you need one.”

“A party?” she repeated, stunned. She had never gone to any party. She was never invited to any party.

“I mean, like I said, it’s open to everyone… You can come with whoever you want…” Peeta rambled on. “Are you coming with Hawthorne, then? You two are going out, right?”

“Going out?” she kept repeating, feeling like a dumb parrot. “With Gale?”

“So… You’re not?” he insisted.

Katniss had never been so relieved to see their Biology Teacher. Miss Tigris might have been extremely weird but she was still less weird than this conversation.

“I could drive if you want to go and you don’t want Peeta to pick you up.” Madge offered. “I’m pretty sure my parents might let me go if I tell them I am going with a friend… Besides, with all those people disappearing… It would be safer to stick together, don’t you think?”

She was a little too shocked at having been called Madge’s friend to react in time.

Madge looked too hopeful, like she really wanted to go. Katniss had zero interest in going to a party at all but she couldn’t find it in her to crush her dreams after being called her friend. So she said she would think about it.

She was so angry and frustrated that it was actually a relief to direct all that at dummies during training. All the vampires were very sorry to have crossed her path that night during patrol.

Haymitch actually praised her.  

Well, he said ‘Good job, sweetheart’  but it was the best she had gotten so far. Not that she cared what he thought about her but… Yeah. It was good to know her Watcher believed at least a little in her.

Of course, that feeling of satisfaction didn’t last long. The next morning, Madge stopped next to her locker while she was talking with Gale – awkwardly avoiding more questions. She introduced them because she couldn’t remember if they knew each other or not and then she regretted it when Madge immediately asked if she had thought about going to the party the next day.

“You’re going to Mellark’s party?” Gale scoffed in utter disbelief.

“It’s not Peeta’s party, it’s Glimmer’s.” she corrected through clenched teeth. Gale had been hitting on her nerves for days at this point. He was her best friend but he was also being a pain, refusing to respect boundaries she was trying to put in place for his own safety.

“Oh, sorry… It’s Peeta now?” he mocked.

“Why are you like that?” she snapped. “He didn’t do anything to you.”

Gale stared at her, gaping a little, and then he chuckled. “You’re joking, right?” She was being totally serious and her face must have reflected that because he sighed. “You can be so blind sometimes…”

“And you’re a pain in the ass.” she snapped, shut her locker door and stormed away to her Math class, grumbling under her breath.

Her mood wasn’t uplifted by the fact Peeta tried to catch her eyes at several points during the day. She was so desperate to avoid both boys that she lingered in the classroom after her History lesson.

Haymitch studied her for a second, closed the classroom door and sat down on the desk next to hers. “Spill.”

Katniss’ scowl only deepened. “Why are boys so stupid?”

That clearly wasn’t what her mentor had been expecting. Maybe he had thought she had found something demonic. Too bad. It was just about her sucky life.

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the ceiling with a sigh. “That’s something about taking care of teenage girls I haven’t missed… Katniss, let’s make something clear. I ain’t gonna advise you on your boys troubles.”

“You don’t advise me on much.” she complained. “Mostly you shout and insult me. You’re sure you passed your Watcher degree or whatever?” She made a face. “And it’s not boys troubles. It’s just my stupid best friend who’s upset because that other boy – who I kind of owe ‘cause he gave me bread one time or two – invited me to a stupid party.”

“Your best friend likes the boy?” he asked in a long-suffering tone. “That qualifies as boys troubles.”

“My best friend is Gale. You know, Hazelle’s son. And he hates Peeta for whatever reason.” she explained. “Try to keep up.”

He glared at her a little but, mostly, he looked amused. “Your best friend who’s a boy is upset because another boy invited you to a party and you can’t figure out why? Maybe I do need to give you some advice after all, sweetheart…” He waved his hand. “You’re not going to the party anyway. You’ve got to patrol. Problem solved.”

“Yeah, but that’s not that easy.” she retorted, ignoring that last part. Nobody had said he was in charge of what she did or didn’t do outside of slaying duties and she didn’t like the thought he believed himself entitled to refuse her the permission to go out. “‘Cause my only other friend aside from Gale…”

“Boy or girl?” he cut her off.

“Girl. Madge.” she clarified before going on. “She wants to go and her parents won’t let her unless I go with her… So, you see, I think I should go even if I really don’t care about a stupid open-invite party…”

He must have been getting bored with the conversation because he startled. “What did you say?”

“About which part?” she deadpanned. She was pretty sure he wasn’t that interested in her life problems. He was barely interested in her when it wasn’t about training. “I guess you’re right anyway. I don’t have time to go to a party.”

“You’re going to the party.” he argued.

She frowned. “Can you make up your mind? You just said…”

“Open invite?” he scoffed.

“Peeta said they sent a text to everyone…” she confirmed. “It’s open to all.”

He was watching her, waiting for her to make a connection. When she didn’t, he rolled his eyes. “Fangs included? They need permission to enter a private place but an open invitation will do the trick just as well and the town’s crammed with them… They won’t resist that kind of free buffet.”

He really didn’t look pleased about that.  

“It’s at The Capitol.” She waited to see if he knew what that was and when he nodded, she went on. “They could have gotten in anyway. A hotel isn’t private property, right?”

“Right.” he sighed. “Still. Now we know… You’ve got to go. Sacred duty to protect the innocents and all that jazz…”

He didn’t seem pleased about that either.

“Don’t look so glum. I can handle a few vampires.” she grumbled.

“Without me as back-up?” he challenged. “We’re gonna have to hope so, yeah? Cause I don’t think I can blend in with teenagers. Congrats, sweetheart, you’re going on your first solo mission. Try not to set yourself on fire, this time.”

[everlarkficexchange]

How Katniss Everdeen Got Her Groove Back

Author: @hutchhitched

Prompt 34: Modern AU where a forty year old Katniss has shut herself off from the world from fear of getting hurt. After her sister dies she realizes how isolated she is and now wants to open herself up to love, but hasn’t a clue where to begin. Everlark HEA - the details of how they meet and what Peeta’s been up to are entirely up to you. :) [submitted by anonymous]

Ratings/Warnings: E

The room’s dark. There’s only one small lamp burning in the corner, but that makes the single candle in the cupcake brighter than it would have been if the entire area were lit. It’s a somber celebration, but that doesn’t make much difference. It’s as it should be.

“Happy birthday, dear Katniss… Happy birthday to you.”

As the last note fades into silence, Katniss whispers a birthday wish and blows out the candle.

“Happy birthday to me,” she mumbles. She’s alone and tired and feeling older than she thought she could. In the grand scheme of things, forty isn’t that many years, but the difference between her fourth and fifth decades seems like lightyears. She’s halfway (or more) through life, and she’s hiding from it.

No one could really blame her for running—not with the experiences she’s faced. Her father gone as a young man leaving Katniss, her mother, and her younger sister Prim alone with practically no income and empty stomachs that gnawed at her insides for months as she fell asleep. Her mother falling into addiction to anti-depressants and opiates leaving Katniss to keep the household together so she and Prim wouldn’t be taken by child services and separated. Her beloved sister gone in a house fire that ripped through the apartment building where she’d stayed while enrolled in med school in a neighboring state. That’s enough tragedy for any one person, and that doesn’t even count her own pain and disappointments during the past forty years.

She’s suffered plenty of both. There’ve been days when she has no idea how she continues to function, but she puts one foot in front of the other repeatedly, doggedly, hoping against hope that something will go right for her. The odds should be in her favor, but they never seem to be. Instead, she watches as the world goes by and wonders if she’s brave enough to step back into society and join the rest of the living. She’s been in mourning for long enough.

Forty. It’s a scary number, but it’s also a little motivating. With a shake of her head, she decides. It’s time. Prim would want her to be happy. She’d be furious at the way Katniss has shut herself off from everyone in order to protect herself. If there’s anything that can drive her out of her shell, it’s thinking about the disappointment that would shine in her sister’s eyes if she were still alive.

“It’s time to rejoin the living, Everdeen.”

Her voice is small as it echoes in her empty apartment, but that’s not the intimidating part. What’s terrifying is that she has absolutely no idea how to get back out there. It’s been almost a decade since she bothered, and she can’t help wondering if maybe she’s waited too long. It’s possible there’s an expiration date, and she’s past it.

It’s late, and she’s tired. Heaving a sigh, she heads to her new bedroom and plugs in the airbed to blow it up. Her belongings won’t arrive for another few days, and the thought of sleeping on the hard floor is the reason for her last minute purchase at the local department store. Shaking out freshly laundered sheets as she retrieves them from the dryer, she inhales the clean scent and tucks the corners onto the air mattress. A pillow and blanket that made the cut when she purged her possessions before her interstate move provides a tiny hint of home. Flicking off the overhead light, she closes her eyes and drifts into sleep. She counts the fact that she only wakes from nightmares three times as a win.

****

“I like that there,” she mutters to herself as she adjusts the picture on the shelf to the left of her television. It’s her favorite of the ones she and Prim took together before her sister started med school.

They’d been so happy, arms wrapped around each other and a rare smile gracing her own lips. As it always had, Prim’s grin stretches across her face, and her blue eyes snap with excitement in the image. She deserved so much better than to become a human torch because someone was stupid enough to not know how to douse a grease fire. The senselessness of it all hits Katniss again. Someone cooked dinner, and that act killed her sister. Prim, who only wanted to heal people, died because an idiot didn’t know how to make bacon and then tried to douse the flames with water.

A knock sounds at her door and shakes her out of her reverie. She isn’t expecting anyone, but a second knock convinces her she shouldn’t ignore it. It could be her landlord, and the last thing she wants is a grumpy Haymitch Abernathy yelling at her because she’s inadvertently broken some rule she doesn’t even know exists in the first place. Tossing her braid over her left shoulder, she crosses her apartment and answers the door.

“Can I help you?”

She’s surprised she can get the words out of her mouth. The man standing there definitely isn’t her landlord, and he’s not old, grumpy, or drunk like Haymitch obviously has been every time she’s seen him. The guy standing in front of her must be about her age, maybe a few years younger, and he has shockingly blue eyes which remind her of her sister’s, as well as the same ashy blonde hair that falls in a shock of curls over his forehead. She has the sudden urge to reach up and push them back, but she keeps her hands at her sides. It would be exceptionally inappropriate to grope a total stranger, even if he is standing in her doorway with a smile and a paper bag that smells something like heaven.

“I’m Peeta. Peeta Mellark. Your next door neighbor. I brought you some pastries.”

“Pasties?” She squeaks out the word and immediately wants to smack herself. She sounds a little like a mouse, while his voice makes her insides vibrate. Also, what did she just say?

Peeta does a double take before bursting into laughter. “Pastries, not pasties. I’m not into that— Well, I mean…uh… I mean, I could be, but not the first time I meet a woman.”

His face is bright red, but hers feels like it’s flaming. She can’t believe she said that and crosses her arms unconsciously to cover her breasts before uncrossing them just as quickly. She’s not sure which is worse at drawing attention to the fact that she has nipples that pasties would cover, and… Hell, she’s spiraling.

“I’m sorry,” she babbles. “That was unseemly.”

“It’s fine. Hilarious, actually.” He grins and gives her a onceover, which makes her blush even harder.

“Well, pastries make way more sense and smell a lot better. But, why?” She’s not sure if that sounds rude or not, but it’s better than what she’s already blurted.

“I’m a baker,” he offers in explanation. “Just a little welcome to the building, uh…?”

“Uh…?”

She can’t think. He’s staring at her, and it makes her extremely uncomfortable in a very peculiar way. She’s not able to name it, but there’s something bubbling below the surface. If she concentrates really hard, she could probably identify the feeling. However, that’s not an option when Baker Boy is standing there with a perplexed look.

“You are?”

“Oh! Sorry, sorry,” she mumbles. “I’m Katniss. Katniss Everdeen. Just moved in. You probably already knew that. I, uh, thank you. This is great.”

“You’re welcome. Welcome to the building, Katniss, Katniss Everdeen. Let me know if you need anything. I always have eggs and sugar and more.”

“More?”

“Yeah. Think on it.”

With that, he disappears into his own apartment, and she’s left holding the bag. Literally.

In a trance, she crosses to her kitchen and sets the pastries down on the counter. Flustered, she pulls a bun out and sinks her teeth into a little bite of decadence that’s got to be illegal in all fifty states, Canada, Mexico, and half of Europe. It tastes so good it’s sinful. It’s doughy and filled with cheese, and she moans so loudly she wonders if he can hear her through their shared wall.

“Sweet Jesus,” she mumbles. “That’s the best thing I’ve eaten in a long time.”

She sits there with a grin on her face for a stupid amount of time before realizing she’s hungry for more, and it’s not necessarily baked goods she wants.

****

Katniss rounds the corner and smacks into a wall. With a loud oof and a screech, she flails in her attempt to stay upright and keep her groceries from falling around her. Just when she’s about to lose it all, strong arms grab her and pull her upright. Relieved, she looks up and falls into the blue pools of her neighbor’s eyes.

“Easy there,” he says with the hint of a smile. “Where’s the fire?”

She almost says, “In my pants.” She really does, but she’s made a fool out of herself enough with him already. She frees herself from his clutches and congratulates herself on remaining calm, and then she sees what he’s wearing. Which isn’t much.

“Holy hell,” she murmurs at the sight of sweat-soaked skin and form-fitting running shorts.

“Sorry. I just got back from a run.”

“I…yeah. I see that.”

She can see some other stuff, too, and it is impressive. She can’t stop looking at him. He’s absolutely gorgeous, and she’s just told herself a few days ago that she needs to get back out there and has no idea how. She did say that, and here he is. She doesn’t even have to leave her building to find an opportunity. There’s no way she’s this lucky.

“Can I help with those?” He nods at the bags she’s holding and reaches out to take the ones hanging from her wrists. He brushes her hand with his, and her insides sizzle.

“Sure.”

She’s going to seduce him. Or let him seduce her. Or get him drunk and take advantage of him. Or something.

Every single fiber in her body tingles. It feels like waking up after a decade long nap and feeling simultaneously ravenous and powerful beyond belief. As he follows her into her apartment, she scans the area and decides to just go for it. What’s the worst that can happen? Her neighbor hates her? Well, that would be terrible, but she can move. That’s how turned on she is by him. She’ll risk a broken lease.

“You can just put them there,” she says softly and runs her hand down his arm. He freezes and looks at her, and she stands her ground. Maybe she’s not thinking straight, but she wants him. Now.

“Katniss?”

She presses into him and trails a finger down her bare chest. She wipes a sweat droplet from his skin and bites her bottom lip.

“Yes, Peeta?”

“I’m not misreading this, am I?”

She wraps her arms around his neck and tips her head back. “No, I don’t think you are.”

“Fuuuuuuck,” he drawls.

Looking directly at him, she says, “I really hope so.”

“Oh, hell.”

His mouth captures hers in a searing kiss, and she turns off her brain. She has no intention of thinking, only feeling for the next however long. His tongue is in her mouth, her hands are on his ass, and his sweat dampens her clothes.

Peeta hoists her into the air and wraps her legs around his waist. He stumbles backward to deposit her on the edge of the countertop and rucks up her shirt to slide his hands along her waist. Frantic, she tugs at his waistband, indicating she’d prefer he lose the shorts, and he growls into her mouth when she slips them over his hips. She cups his backside, pulling him between her legs and moans against him.

“Please,” she gasps. “Fuck, please.”

He’s frenetic, all power and kinetic energy as he rolls her leggings down her thighs, baring her to him. When she bites his lower lip, he grunts and shoves his hands between her legs. He pushes inside her roughly, and she whimpers at his pace. His thumb’s on her clit, and his middle finger plunders her as their tongues tangle and dance together.

She’s got him in her hand, jerking and tugging as he swells in her palm. It’s a solid weight there, but she wants it inside her. She doesn’t have time to look. She’s too enthralled in what his lips are saying as they mate with hers.

Katniss tugs one of her feet free and yanks him to her with her legs. His shaft is hot against her slit. She begs for him with her hands and body, but he pulls back slightly to catch her gaze.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice ragged and broken. She nods frantically, and he moans in the back of his throat. “I’ll pull out. I promise.”

“Okay,” she agrees.

She’d agree to about anything as long as he gives it to her hard. Then he’s inside her, stretching her as she calls his name. He’s big enough that it’s uncomfortable at first, until her body adjusts to the intrusion and she’s aching for more. By the time she’s relaxed, he’s pumping into her with her name falling from his lips as he bites and licks at her jawline.

“Tug my hair,” she manages to instruct, and he yanks on her braid so hard her eyes water. It’s sexy as hell, and she grapples at his back in an attempt to pull him further inside her. He’s good at this, she realizes. Really good at it, and she thanks her lucky stars she’s the fortunate recipient of such a fantastic experience. He’s doing everything he can to make it good for her, and it really, really, really is.

What they’re doing is so messy, but she doesn’t care. She owns bleach and anti-bacterial cleaning supplies. She just purchased them, in fact, and she’s going to need all of them if the mess between her legs is any indication. She’s quickly losing control, fucking against him as hard as she can.

Skin slaps together, sweat pours off them both, and he nuzzles his face into her shirt. If they had more time, she’d take it off for him—maybe she’ll wear pasties next time just to blow his mind—but they’re careening toward a climax faster than she knows how to handle. She’s desperate for more friction, so eager that she rubs herself as his thrusts stutter and falter.

“I gotta pull out. I’m gonna— shit!”

He yanks free, and she catches the sight of him before her eyes roll back in her head. His skin is pink and glistening with moisture from her body. The first splash of his climax hits warm and wet on her leg, and she arches her back as waves roll through her. Her hand cramps as she contorts it. Her hips buck, and then she’s reaching for him. She clings as her body tenses and releases repeatedly.

When it’s over, she huffs several breaths before blinking open her eyes. Her t-shirt hem has fallen against her thigh, and it’s marked with his ejaculate, as is most of her thigh and stomach. He pants into her ear, but he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to let her go. That’s fine with her, although it surprises her how affectionate he’s being in the aftermath of a quickie in her kitchen.

“Katniss, that was—”

“Something we need to do again.”

“I think it gives new meaning to the phrase ‘welcome wagon.’”

“Because you want me to ride you next time?”

“Next time?” His eyes are blown wide, his pupils dilated as he realizes what she’s saying. “You want there to be a next time?”

“I’m not sure I want this one to be over.”

He flushes at her suggestion, but he’s a very helpful neighbor. Before he leaves to head back to his own apartment, he cleans up and then eats to his heart’s content. She’s pretty satiated from his visit, too.

[everlarkbirthdaygifts]

Happy birthday, micmic022!!

@micmic022  we greatly apologize for the delay! We hope your birthday on the 11th was full of great things. In honor of your day @booksrockmyface has written you a special birthday fic!

Title: Successful Arrangement

Gift For: micmic022

Rated: T

Trigger warning: Talk of infected wound leading to amputation.

Author’s Note: Happy birthday! I hope you like this take on an arranged marriage.

Peeta looked at the picture on his phone of the woman The Victors Agency had matched him with. He had many friends who were able to find a good marriage through The Agency. It prided itself in making perfect marriage arrangements. And had done so for 74 years. Peeta chose it over any of the startups that claimed to have similar successes.

They’d matched him with a young woman named Katniss. They had exchanged a few emails and texts. And a single phone call that lasted all of twenty minutes. She was obviously not much for phone conversation, but he didn’t mind. She was very eloquent over their written communication. And maybe she did better in person.

But it was finally time to meet and Peeta was ready.

He looked down at the phone again and pulled up her picture. Her text came through as he was looking around the park to spot her.

Katniss: I’m by the fountain.

Peeta turned in a circle and found the fountain. He headed toward it, typing his text as he went. Be there in a sec.

He saw her before she saw him. Her dark hair was down in waves over her shoulders. Her hands flexed on her lap as she looked around. Her grey eyes took in everything. He could already imagine how he would recreate her likeness in every artistic medium he used. Probably pencils first…

“Katniss?” Peeta asked as he stepped closer.

Katniss stood. “You’re Peeta. Good.” She held out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

He shook her hand. “And you.”

“I have time for the ceremony Saturday.” She said as she started walking around the perimeter of the fountain.

He followed. “Saturday works. I’ll make all the arrangements.”

“My sister would prefer some pomp and circumstance. I’m only getting married once, she reminds me.”

Peeta smiled. “I think I’m going to like your sister.”

Katniss returned his smile. “I think you will, too.”

They spent a half hour discussing the particulars. Katniss texted Peeta her address so he could start moving his things.

___

The ceremony was held between the Mellark Bakery and the house the family lived in. A justice of the peace presided over the vow exchange. Peeta’s dad provided a large variety of baked goods for the reception.

Katniss and Peeta sat uncomfortably beside each other at a table on the porch. Other tables were arranged in the yard.

“Can I get you anything?” Peeta asked softly between well-wishing guests.

“A cup of water would be nice.” Katniss responded. Her throat was so scratchy that the words were forced.

“I’ll be right back.” He patted her hand and walked away.

Prim stepped over as soon as he was gone. “You okay?”

Katniss nodded. “Just ready to be home.”

“I know, you didn’t sleep well last night. I heard you tossing and turning.”

Peeta came back over with a kind smile. “Hello, Primrose.” He sat a glass of water in front of Katniss and held out a plate piled high with all sorts of baked goods. “I wasn’t sure what you would like, so I got two of everything.”

“I’m not hungry.” Katniss said.

“Well, I am.” Prim picked up a roll from the top and broke it in half. Long strings stretched between the two sections. “Cheese!” She took a large bite.

“Cheese bun,” Peeta grinned, “I made those.”

After a slight hesitation, Katniss picked the identical bun off the top of the stack and took a bite. Flavor exploded in her mouth. She gave Peeta a small smile as she chewed. “Not bad.” It was the most delicious thing she’d ever put in her mouth.

“I’m glad you think so.” Peeta looked relieved.

Katniss hadn’t realized how hungry she was. She finished off the cheese bun and surveyed the pile in front of her. “Did you make anything else?”

Peeta pointed. “I made the chocolate raspberry croissants. Well, Dad started the dough and I finished up the process.”

Katniss picked up one and broke it in half. She was starting to feel a little more comfortable with Peeta as they sat. She offered part of the croissant to him.

He accepted it and settled back in beside her.

Prim pulled up a chair. “Can I help in the bakery?”

“If you want.” Peeta said. “And if it’s okay with your sister, of course.”

Katniss shrugged. “Have to find something to keep you occupied this summer.”

“Well, since I can’t really go with you and you think I’m not old enough to be alone at home…”

“You’re thirteen, Prim. And I have long hours.” Katniss looked to Peeta. “It’ll be okay with your dad?”

“I think so. My nephew’s always underfoot and he’s a lot younger.” Peeta winked at Prim. “You’re part of the family now. Have to learn the ropes.”

Prim beamed and Katniss would be forever grateful.

The party lasted into the early hours of the evening. Katniss and Peeta drove away amidst applause. The ride across town was silent.

“Did you finish getting everything moved today?” Katniss asked as they walked up the front steps.

“I did, yeah.” Peeta waited for her to unlock the door and then he swept her up into his arms.

She gasped and threw her arms around his shoulders. “What are you doing?”

“Carrying you over the threshold.” He stepped through the doorway and then sat her on the floor. “We never discussed if you would be changing your name.”

“I don’t plan on it.” She closed the door and leaned against it to remove her shoes. “Did you want me to?”

“No. I’m glad. I just wanted to make sure I addressed you properly. Mrs. Everdeen.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it.

She laughed. “I didn’t realize you were such a romantic.”

“I try.” He grinned and dropped her hand. “You want to hang out a bit before bed? It’s not that late yet.”

“I didn’t sleep well last night, so I’m a little tired.” She waved toward the living room. “Make yourself at home, though. We’ll do something tomorrow.” She hesitated and then she turned down the hall. “Goodnight.”

____

The house was quiet. Peeta wasn’t used to it. Part of the reason he applied to the agency was because of the crowded house. He put his prosthesis back on and made his way downstairs to the kitchen. Cooking in the middle of the night sometimes helped when he had trouble sleeping.

He found Katniss sitting at the table with a steaming cup in front of her. “I guess I’m not the only one suffering from insomnia.”

Peeta chuckled. “Guess not. Mind if I rifle through the cabinets?”

She shrugged. “It’s your house now. I need to go shopping, but I’m sure you’ll find something.”

“We can go tomorrow.” He suggested as he started going through things. “Best way to get to know someone is how they shop.”

“What a way to spend a honeymoon.” She sat back and watched him.

He found flour and sugar. “Pancakes?”

“I love pancakes.” She took a sip from her cup. “Especially at one in the morning.”

He found the rest of the ingredients and went to work. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes.”

“This marriage business. Why did you sign up?”

The silence that followed Peeta’s question made him think he’d overstepped.

Eventually, Katniss said, “When our mother died, Prim went to live with our uncle and aunt. And when I tried to take over custody, I was told it would look better on my application if I were married.”

“She lives here, I thought.”

“She does. But I’m not her legal guardian. Haymitch and Effie still have to sign everything.” She chewed her lip. “It’s okay, isn’t it? We could get an annulment or—”

He cut her off with the wave of his hand. “It’s fine. It’s a good reason. Better than mine.”

“Which was?”

“My oldest brother Graham moved back in with his son after his divorce. Ryan never wants to move out because it’s easier to get to work living beside the bakery and he always has one girl or another that stays over. The house is loud. I’ve tried dating, but women end up running for one excuse or another. I just decided if I could find a woman who already had a home….” He looked over his shoulder. “Your reason is definitely nobler and I’ll gladly help you get custody of Primrose. Whatever I need to do.”

“Thank you.” She pointed. “I store pans under the stove.”

Peeta took one out and started heating it up. “I have a prosthetic leg.” He pulled up the leg of his pajama pants and showed her. “I should have said something before. I’m sorry.”

Katniss shook her head. “It’s no big deal. Your dad let it slip. I pretended like I already knew. I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”

“I don’t sleep with it.” He dropped the cloth down and poured some pancake batter into the pan. “And if I get up in the middle of the night I don’t bother putting it back on. I crawl or hop where I need to go. Don’t want to freak you out if you see me crawling around in the hallway in the dark.”

She laughed. “Thanks for the warning.”

They were quiet as Peeta finished making pancakes. He sat down the platter and joined her at the table.

She put a couple pancakes on her plate and poured syrup over them. “Can I ask… How did it happen?”

“It was kind of stupid. My brothers and I were wrestling around. I got scraped pretty bad on a nail. It got infected and my mom tried to treat it at home until it got too bad. Went to the hospital and there was nothing else to do except amputate.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “No big deal. Well, not for me. I was eleven when it happened. It was the deal breaker in a lot of my relationships, though.”

“Too bad, you’re really cute.” Katniss put a bite of pancake in her mouth.

Peeta felt his cheeks heat up. “Well, thanks.”

“Prim thinks so too. She was falling all over herself when she first saw you, so you’re teenager approved.”

He laughed. “Well, that’s good to know.”

They talked into the early hours of the morning. It was nice to finally have the time to get to know each other. Peeta knew fate had handed him a big win when he was matched with Katniss through the agency. He made a promise then and there to do everything in his power not to mess it up.

[everlarkingjoshifer]

A Different Way CHPT 11

I’m BAAAAACK! This is chapter is actually on time and I’m so happy.

First I want to thank every single one of you who were kind enough to leave a get well sentiment to me. I do feel much better and now here I am posting a chapter actually on time. I would like to thank my amazing husband who is always so supportive. To @mega-aulover and @jobanana7 for being such amazing cheerleaders. To my wonderful betas @titaniasfics and @javistg with whom this story would've never come to fruition. To @susnsetsrmydreams for her beautiful banner and finally to @peetaisbae for whom this story is written for. As always, please don’t forget to read, review, and reblog :D

If you’d like to catch the previous chapters, you can do so on  AO3

I hope you all like this chapter!

Gale called Katniss the very next morning. He was as always, full of flimsy excuses to justify his absence.

Katniss sighed wearily, “I can’t believe you’re calling. Willow waited for you for three hours.”

“Pass the phone to Willow,” Gale insisted for the second time that morning.

“Why, so you can lie to her like you always lie to me? And don’t even think I haven’t caught on,”  she felt her mouth purse distastefully.

Gale began to lose his patience as he growled on the other end. “Just give her the phone, for fuck’s sake.”

Katniss groaned and called Willow who ran towards her. Passing the phone to her child who answered cautiously, Katniss tried not to listen as Willow quickly nodded at whatever barrage of falsehoods Gale told her.

“Okay, Daddy, it’s fine, I’ll see you next week,” Willow quickly said as she passed the phone over to Katniss who argued for another couple minutes about his lack of presence in their daughter’s life.

Slamming the phone on the counter, Katniss went to wash the dishes in hopes of feeling calmer once she was done. Alas, after drying her hands with a hand towel she found that she was even angrier than when she started. Looking at her newly washed dishes she tisked distastefully and threw herself on the sofa to drown her thoughts on reality television.

Weeks passed and the Christmas Party was finally upon them. Both Katniss and Peeta arrived about two hours earlier to make sure that everything was running smoothly.

The children’s presentation of Christmas songs in the auditorium went without a hitch and, for once, Katniss felt immense relief.  

Once the audience had walked over to the gym, everything was in order, with Katniss serving punch and Peeta taking pictures with his camera. The small photobooth served to remind the parents there was still more money to spend.

Peeta took picture after picture for a good hour or so, all the while directing the guests as to their best angles. Every time he finished one group he would quickly jot down something as Katniss passed cup after cup of punch, a smile plastered on her face. Normally the smile would’ve been a Herculean effort on her part, however, she found that tonight it wasn’t so. Having Peeta look back at her made her smiles come that much easier, if not effortless. She was never one to blush, but it had been the third time that Peeta had glanced back giving her a playful wink when she felt her face heat up.  

Katniss shook her head to rid herself of the heat and giggled as she concentrated her efforts on her and Peeta’s children. Scanning the room she noticed Willow and Rye were busy playing with the balloons in the room and looking at the decorations of hanging homemade snowflakes. After everyone was settled with enough punch and cookies to make them burst, Katniss finally joined Peeta over at the photo booth.

“Wanna commemorate our success? Or was it Finch’s success?” he asked eyebrow raised and smirk sneaking its way onto his lips.

Katniss licked her lips and laughed nervously, but shrugged as she turned her back against the decorated background with Peeta standing next to her. A smile on his face as he turned the camera to face them and pressed the button. Bright spots distorted her vision while Peeta looked back at the digital picture and smiled, satisfied with the result.

Madge ran over to them, eyes wide and with a bit of a slur. “Oh my god guys, thank you so much for taking over. I don’t know why I volunteered for the stupid PTA. Guess I was just too bored by myself at home. I gotta find a different hobby,” she muttered walking away. Katniss looked back at Peeta who pointed at a flask hidden under Finch’s arms and snorted. Peeta shook his head while trying to cover his hearty laugh with unsuccessful bouts coughing.

Katniss bit her lip, “Stop laughing,” she muttered as she shoved Peeta playfully with her shoulder.

Finch was currently walking around the room introducing herself to the parents and declaring that everything was her idea. From the decorations to the choice of music blaring out of the large speakers.

Katniss sighed rolling her eyes as she nudged Peeta in Finch’s direction. The woman even had the audacity to fill the crowd with her annoying bell-like laughter as she took all the credit for herself.

Peeta shrugged digging his hands into his pant’s pockets, “Let her have it. It must be really important for her to have the spotlight. Who knows what she’s like outside these doors.”

“Probably still a pain in the ass,” muttered Katniss. She shifted her weight onto her other hip and blinked slowly, “but I guess you have a point. At least we know what we did and we don’t really need the credit.”

Peeta nodded once and turned back to survey the room. Katniss began to tap her foot to the tune feeling more relaxed than she had in several years when Peeta put his hand out to ask her for a dance. Katniss looked at him, hesitating but at the look of nervous earnest she placed her hand in his and let him guide her to the dancefloor just as  ‘A Different Way’ by DJ Snake started playing.

“I’m not really sure how you’re supposed to dance to this song, but whatever,” Peeta said shrugging.

Katniss smiled. “To be honest, neither do I.”

“We could probably just change the song,” Peeta suggested.

“Let the song finish first. I hated it when the radio people would cut the song midway through. It’s a pet peeve of mine,” Katniss said.

“Got it,” Peeta whispered. Katniss could smell his cologne as she drew closer to him. She wasn’t sure if it was the heat in the room or the fact that she was trembling as they danced in pleasant silence for what seemed like seconds but she took in a shuddering breath before he looked at her and smiled, “by the way, you look beautiful tonight.”

Katniss’ eyes widened as she felt her face grow warm for the fourth time that evening as she all but whispered a small ‘thank you’.

Raising his eyebrows Peeta tightened his grip on her waist and searched her face for any sign of having pleased her. On the other hand, Katniss did everything to avoid his vivid blue eyes. It unsettled her and she didn’t know if it would’ve been appropriate for her to kiss him in a room full of strangers. She didn’t know if it was appropriate to kiss him at all, no matter how much she wanted to.

With the song over, Peeta sighed and let her hand gently drop to her side as he walked over to his old iPod and sifted through the songs. He put the jack back into it and adjusted the volume in the old stereo he’d borrowed from Madge. Meanwhile, a pleasant buzz of conversation rang throughout the Gym. Katniss found her daughter and Rye both of whom were standing far too suspiciously in a dark corner. Frowning she walked towards them, “What are you two doing?”

“Nothing,” the children quickly yelled in unison as they stood startled.

Katniss frowned and looked dubiously from the small brunette to the wide-eyed little Peeta that stood next to her own daughter. Willow nudged Rye on the ribs and he looked at her an annoyed glance marring his features. It startled Katniss to see how much Rye looked like his father. Especially when he was annoyed or angry. It was as if someone had cloned the man. Not that she was complaining, Peeta was extremely handsome and she knew Rye would be no different.  

Suddenly, Daft Punk blasted through the speakers. Katniss looked back as Willow, threw herself squealing happily onto Katniss who after having realized Willow was in her arms picked her daughter up to twirled her around. Setting Willow down Katniss took Rye’s arms and danced with him. Or rather she grabbed his hands and swung them listlessly from side to side as he stood ramrod straight looking at her as though she were crazy.

Peeta danced his way towards them as the throng of people joined in on the fun. He pulled Willow who’d been dancing on her own and twirled her about like a princess. Rye, upon his father’s insistence, shrugged and began to finally move. His awkward little limbs moving about with abandon.

The last group of people left with smiles on their faces and cheerful wishes, Katniss sighed when Finch and Madge volunteered to clean up. Peeta gathered his old iPod and camera as he walked out with Katniss, Willow, and Rye.

“Katniss!” She heard Gale call. She turned to look at him as he walked towards them with a mystified look on his face and dressed for a party.

“What are you doing here?” Katniss asked.

Willow piped up, “I called him before we left the house, momma.”

Katniss sighed. “Five hours ago, and you show up just now? What the hell did you think this was, a club? That it was gonna last all night?”

“Well, if Willow hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t have found out,” Gale protested.

Katniss shook her head and grabbed Willow’s hand, fully preparing to leave him to swallow his words. “Gale not now. Don’t start.”

“Hey man, you can talk about this later. There are kids here,” Peeta added.

“Mind your own business, baker boy,” Gale spat.

Katniss frowned. “Gale, we’re tired and I want to go home.”

“Did you really think you could play the happy little family with that idiot instead of me?” Gale threw out. He switched his glare from Katniss to Peeta. “Let me remind you that she’s my wife.”

“Your ex-wife, you unbelievable jerk,” Katniss corrected.

“Whatever. It was me who left you. Maybe if you hadn’t been such a drag in my life I would still be married to you,” Gale added.

Katniss scoffed, nose flaring, “Oh, I was the drag? Let me remind you that it was you who didn’t want to take responsibility of being a husband and father. It was always me who had to ‘drag’ you to do your duty.”

“Well it’s not like you did anything to help the situation, I mean, come on, you weren’t even able to give me a son,” Gale said pointing to Willow who looked as though her life shattered in that very second.

Peeta passed the camera he’d been taking pictures with to Katniss and shoved his iPod into his jacket pocket telling Rye to hold onto her. He stalked over to Gale, who was taller than him and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. “Alright, we’re done here. You need to get the hell out.” He dragged a livid Gale who threatened to kick his ass. Peeta chuckled darkly. “You can try all you want, bud, but trust me, you won’t get very far.”

Katniss looked down at Willow crouching down to hug her crying child as Rye walked over to them and joined in.

“It’s ok, Willow. Look, even I don’t have a mom,” Rye said wiping Willow’s tears with his hands.

Katniss’ heart broke in two when she realized that Rye was right. Gale had never really been a father. Not ever. When Willow was a baby, he barely made any effort to do anything for her, despite Katniss being depressed and tired. She had to always either yell at him or beg him to do something, anything, and even then, he couldn’t do it without complaining. Now it was no better, as he slowly became more and more absent from their lives no matter how hard she tried and came to the conclusion that she didn’t act the single mother. She was a single mother.

Katniss gulped attempting to keep her tears at bay.

“Are you okay?” Asked Peeta once he came back.

Katniss nodded.

“Let me take you to my house,” Peeta offered.

Katniss shook her head. “You don’t need to do that, Peeta.”

“Come on, I was able to kick him out of here, but I’m not entirely convinced I could do the same at your house without being arrested. Plus I’m not exactly sure I would feel comfortable letting you drive under these conditions,” Peeta offered.  

“And what, stay over? We don’t have the proper clothes,” Katniss said.

Peeta extended his hand out. “You can both borrow our stuff. Rye even has a sleeping bag and we have extra toothbrushes.”  

“Momma, please. I don’t want to see Daddy,” Willow wailed while Rye hugged her and nodded his head.

[everlark-your-own-adventure]

Powder Keg - Ch 2

Happy Monday, everlarkers! Last week introduced us to ski!instructors Katniss and Peeta, and all of the gang at Mt. Mockingjay Lodge. When we last looked in, our cinnamon bun was offering Katniss some of the cash he earned when he stole away her private lesson. You voted to have her refuse the offer (understandably so, I think!) So what’s in store for our gang this week? Let’s see, shall we? This week’s installment of Powder Keg was written by @xerxia31.

As always, you have 48 hours to vote, until noon, Wednesday, November the 15th. Remember, vote in the comments or reblogs, not in the tags! And as always, share with your friends, more voices = more fun! Ready? Here we go...

The wad of cash in Peeta’s hand is so tempting. I have no doubt that Glimmer is a good tipper, probably even more so with Peeta than she would have been with me. And I really need that money.

As if he can sense my indecision, a hint of a smile lifts the corners of his lips, lights his eyes. For the briefest of moments, it’s as if I’m looking back through time, to that golden-haired boy with the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. The one who stole my heart.

The one who tore it to shreds.

Anger wells up inside me, stamping out the flicker of pain and humiliation that remembering that day has allowed to surface. Obscenities sit on the tip of my tongue, begging to be unleashed at him. “No,” I say instead, adding a tight “thank you,” when I catch Wiress frowning at me from her fry station. Peeta’s expression hardens.

“Take the damn money, Everdeen,” he hisses. “You earned it. I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

“Yeah, well you always were the superior one, weren’t you?” Peeta recoils, as if I’ve actually shoved him instead of just envisioning it.

A group of rowdy thirteen- and fourteen-year-olds bursts through the cafeteria door, all laughter and good-natured hijinks. Morning ski school must be over. A perfect distraction from the hurt on Peeta’s face. I head back behind the counter, ready to start dishing out meals to the skiers, and when I finally look up, Peeta is gone.

❅❆❅❅❆❅❅❆❅❅❆❅❅❆❅❅❆❅❅❆❅❅❆❅❅❆❅

The sun is still a solid forty minutes away from cresting the mountain when I pull my Jeep into the parking lot. Most of the instructors at Mt. Mockingjay stay in the staff dormitories, but I'm a local, having lived all of my life in Panem, just ten minutes down the mountain. No point in paying for lodging here when my childhood home is so close, though I've heard there are some crazy parties in the dorms after hours.

Stepping into my bindings in the blue-grey predawn is like coming home. My father had me on skis when I was barely old enough to walk. His seasonal job at this very resort opened the world of carving and shredding to our family, who otherwise could never have afforded it. My skis and boots were always bought at the end of the season, former rentals too dinged up to appeal to the tourists anymore, my lift passes purchased at the employee rate. But on the runs, I was never that poor kid from the Seam. My dad used to say Mt. Mockingjay was the great equalizer. This was his favourite place in the world, and it’s mine too.

Just enough snow fell overnight to frost the hills in a perfect layer of powder and I’m anxious to get up there and be the first to slice through it. I slide my key into the chairlift controls and fire up the engine. This is the smallest of the resort’s five chairlifts. I’d rather use the main lift, the one that services the two double diamond runs, but it’s a stupid idea to ride that behemoth alone. Instead, I make the four minute and thirty-seven second ascent to stand at the top of the single diamond Arena run.

My breath catches in my throat; from up here the mountain is a smooth blue-white canvas, faintly glittering in the slope lights, begging to be brushed by my skis. Though my first instinct is to race down as fast as I can, kicking up a spray of diamond-bright sparkles as I plow through the fresh snow, I instead carve through the powder, executing one flawless turn after another, concentrating on my technique, my father’s voice in my ears directing each perfect arc.

And when I reach the bottom, exhilaration and adrenaline spiking in my veins, I turn back to check out the pattern I’ve sculpted into the hill. Disappointment floods my veins as I realize that someone else is up there already, disrupting my curves. But as I watch, it quickly becomes apparent that the other skier is taking pains to mirror my line, almost exactly. Their turns are not as precise, but there’s a casual elegance in the careful line they’ve chosen. As they descend, a double helix emerges from the tracks in a way that has to be intentional, even artistic. I’m just reaching into my jacket for my phone, to take a picture of how cool it looks, when I notice that the other skier is wearing an orange helmet.

“Fuck,” I mutter, the word hanging in a silver cloud before slowly dissipating. There’s only one person in this place who’d be caught dead in safety-cone-orange headgear. I can’t escape that asshole for even one stupid morning.

Peeta Mellark has done everything in his power to make my first week here miserable. When he’s not actively stealing my clients right off the hill, he’s sabotaging my schedule. Just yesterday, he cheated me out of what would have been a high-tipping private lesson. I’m certain it was my name written beside Seneca Crane on the big board, but he swapped his own name in and took off with the older guy in his Armani snowsuit before I even noticed, leaving me instead with some punk kid named Marvel who was much more interested in his helmet cam than in learning.

And when I pointed that out to Jo, she just shrugged and said that the base rate was the same whether the lesson was with Mister Snowsuit-worth-more-than-my-car, or the disinterested brat. Which it is, but while Marvel’s dad only tipped twenty bucks, I’m certain Peeta got more than that from the guy he snatched away from me.

The entire week has been him dicking me around, then acting huffy when I call him on it. A whole week of us trading barbs. I swear I’m going to snap soon.

I scowl, watching Peeta traverse the rest of the run. He’s on skis today, I’d almost forgotten that he used to ski, before he switched to boarding with all of the other cool kids in his clique.  I know the moment he catches sight of me watching him, because he stiffens and nearly loses an edge, flailing just a bit. But he recovers quickly, barrelling towards me, spraying me in snow as he stops just feet away. Jerk.

He pulls off his helmet just as the thin winter sun finally crests the mountain top, crowning him in golden light, like he’s in some kind of damned shampoo commercial, then he flashes that arrogant smirk at me, the one that gets him all of the prime lesson slots while the rest of us peck at the dregs. “Good morning, Katniss,” he says, insincerity practically dripping from the words.

“What are you doing here?” I grumble. He gestures at his skis and raises an eyebrow.

“Same as you, it appears,” he laughs. I roll my eyes. “You want to share a chair back up?”

“No thanks, I’m done here,” I say, and ski away. I really wanted to get in a few fast, carefree runs before the day’s duties begin, but I’m not sharing a chair with him. And if I got on before or after, I have no doubt he’d stop the lift and leave me stranded, just for the pleasure of screwing me over yet again.

I can hear him calling after me, but I don’t turn back. “Dammit Katniss, wait,” he puffs as I shove the tip of my pole into my bindings with more force than is really necessary to release them. He’s chased after me, for some reason. I stack my skis in the rack beside the lodge entrance and yank the door open roughly. “The hill is big enough for both of us.”

“Forget it,” I bark, noticing too late that we’re no longer alone. A few early bird guests are already sitting by the big stone fireplace.

“Katniss!” He’s still following me, clattering awkwardly through the lodge even as he greets the guests sitting there by name. I roll my eyes. Suck up. I weave down the corridor that connects the main guest lounge with the staff area, Peeta huffing behind me.

He manages to catch up when I struggle for a moment to punch in the door code. “Why are you so stubborn?” he practically bellows as I finally push open the door. Several heads whip around to gawk at us, other instructors and staff members getting ready for their days. My ears burn, but I still don’t acknowledge him, stomping instead over to the huge whiteboard that outlines the day’s lessons.

Every square next to my name has been wiped clean. “What the hell, Peeta?” I whip around to face him, hands on my hips and fire in my eyes. “This the reason you got here early? Just to screw me out of a day’s pay?” My voice cracks pathetically on the last word. I really need a full roster of lessons if I’m going to earn enough for Prim to have a Christmas this year, not to mention keeping the lights on at my mother’s house.

“I had nothing to do with this,” he snaps, almost distractedly, as he walks over to the board. It’s only then that I realize the normally overflowing boxes next to his name are also blank. “What the--?”

“Oh good, you’re both here and still alive.” It’s far too early for Johanna’s acerbic tone. Peeta and I turn in tandem to glare at her, talking over each other in an attempt to accuse each other in the latest round of schedule manipulation. “Can it, both of you,” she barks.

“Jo, I can’t afford to spend another day in the snack bar,” I hiss, not wanting Peeta to hear how desperate I am for the higher pay that comes with teaching.

“You’re not in the snack bar today,” she says. “We have a school trip coming in. You’re leading it.” I feel a little better, there are no tips for teaching school groups, but I’ll at least get the full instructor wage for my time, instead of minimum. But then Jo looks over my shoulder. “Both of you.”

“No,” Peeta says before I can even spit the word out myself. “No, Jo, not today. I had five private lessons lined up today!”

“And now you don’t,” she smirks. “I gave them to Bristel.” A fiery flush sweeps up Peeta’s neck and his jaw clenches. It’s kind of fascinating. “You two are going to take the field trip kids, and you’re going to get over whatever this crap is between you.” I’m two seconds away from stomping off. I definitely didn’t sign up for this. As if she can hear my thoughts, Jo glares at me. “I have fielded seven complaints about the two of you already.” She waves her finger between us. “Seven! It’s only been a week!”

“None of that is my fault!” I try to defend myself, but Johanna cuts me off.

“Brainless, I’ve cut you a ton of slack because you’re by far the best skier here. But you’re at the end of the rope. You need to figure this out.” My heart sinks; I’ve never been fired from a job before, not once. And to be let go from Mt. Mockingjay… well I’d never be able to ski here again, never be able to look any of these people in the eye again. Suitably chastened, I stare down at my ski boots.

“And you,” Jo says, turning her attention to Peeta. “You think you’re safe just because the snow bunnies cream themselves when you unzip your parka?” I sneak a peek at Peeta, whose entire face is bright red now. “They’re not the ones managing this place. I am. And I haven’t forgotten that you still haven’t passed your level two certification.” My head snaps up at that, just as Peeta’s face falls. He isn’t even level two certified? He shouldn’t be teaching private lessons at all!

“Jo, I can’t work with him,” I plead. It’s true, we’ll kill each other. She tips her head back and lets out a mighty groan.

“You know what, Brainless, fine. Hawthorne’s scheduled to be off today. Call him in if you have to. You choose. Gale or Peeta.” She levels me with a glare. “Twenty-two fourth graders. Bus will be here at eight sharp. Make sure they’re all kitted and on the bunny hill by nine,” Jo says as she walks away. “The rest of you, get to work,” she calls to the group of other instructors, who scramble to appear as if they hadn’t been watching our entire dress-down.

I let out a deep breath as beside me Peeta does the same. I glance up at him. He doesn’t look pissed anymore. He almost looks… sad. Resigned. He turns his gaze to mine, expectantly, waiting to be dismissed. To lose an entire day’s pay.

What do I do? Bring Gale in on his morning off to teach with me, even though he’s likely to be pissed about it. Or see if Peeta and I can call a truce, if only just for the day?