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alternamarian · 10 months ago

Note

For the record I only have watched the movies, and not quite the entirety of all, so my comments are limited to them. (I also admit that this is not my favorite series / adaptation.) But maybe I can note that the marketing of the movies have done quite a lot of harm to the series in general. The movie industry just couldn't promote the films without relying on competition, and whipping up the audience into partisans over which boy the blushing teenage girl is more infatuated with. Marketing imitates literature, etcetcetc.

I do agree though that conflicts over romantic / erotic interests can be more than just About That™. Choosing which person to be with means choosing what sort of life to live, what beliefs and principles to follow and uphold. And I agree that a primary focus of the story is Katniss Everdeen deciding what life to live, as she travels the road of self-discovery. Choosing 'which boy' to spend the rest of her days with is definitely not a THG version of Team vs Team.

I guess my difference is that I don't think the setup requires all the tension to be romantic / erotic. I certainly don't think she could have Had It All™ if one or the other boy was 'just a friend'. (I know what that phrase means in this context, but still ...) Anyway though this is a decades-old movie series, I will continue with spoilery details below the cut.

Gale Hawthorne is such a pragmatic character, I think he would most likely have killed Primrose Everdeen, directly or not. And anyone remotely involved in her sister's death is someone Katniss just won't be close to, whatever the relationship. Even if she and Gale remained 'just friends' throughout the story, that friendship will be quite strained afterwards, if it survives at all. At that point, the choice is clear. But she has to work that out for herself.

When she returns to District 12, she does seem to insist on going back to her pre-Game life — which of course includes Gale, whom she considers as a kindred spirit, regardless of hormonal tingles. But there is no going back, as Haymitch Abernathy says:

There is no end to this trip.

Then the revolution happens. And yes, she begins to realize just how different they are. She yearns for peace, he hungers(!!) for war and bloodshed. And whether by a conflict in principle or by sheer exhaustion, I don't think Katniss can live a life so closely associated with someone like him, whether or not they get married and have children. And the death of her sister finally makes that clear to her.

As for Peeta Mellark, I admit I don't quite see how she begins to love him. I don't quite see her gratitude for the food, for instance, or how that interaction causes her to see him as more than just another boy from the district. Even in the midst of the Games, they seem to me more like colleagues who happen to kiss occasionally(?!!) But by the end of the series, she does choose to marry him, and start a family; and I don't think the choice is uncharacteristic of her, or because of bad writing from Suzanne Collins. What Katniss needs is the dandelion in the spring.

And that's also why I don't quite agree with the complaints about teenage romance. Again, I blame the marketing for using the love-triangle hype strategy. But as for the actual films, there is more than just romantic / erotic love that drives the story.

I know that people use 'platonic' as a catch-all for non-sexual love. But what sets the plot in motion is not some Tough Girl™ struggling with hormones. Katniss Everdeen volunteers herself as tribute in order to save the life of her sister. She takes her place in the arena, knowing she will have to kill other children if she is to go home alive, just to prevent Primrose from killing and dying in the Games.

There will be no series, in whatever form, without Primrose Everdeen. There will be no story without these two girls fighting, in different ways, for the sisterly love they shared. And when at last death parted them, the so-called 'love triangle' simply ceased to exist.

So no, THG is not about some girl who just can't decide which boy she likes, or that their entanglements are a distraction. Marketing or not, the audience ought to see past that false image, if they are to be serious about opposing The Capitol.

I like your post about the Hunger Games and agree with most of it, but I still think the love triangle was unnecessary and people are right to criticize it. Collins could have very easily written Gale as the best friend and Peeta as her main love (based on endgame choices) or vice versa I don't even care since I'm not a big shipper of either. But she did introduce the unnecessary drama that overall did not add much to the plot, and it only took away focus. So I think I understand that crit.

Once upon a time, I might have agreed with you. These are good books, important books, and we don’t need to defile this war epic by shoving in teenage-hormone love-triangle dramatics. Then I reread the series, and I was astonished at how, for the most part, the love story is inextricably intertwined with the action-adventure elements. You can’t take out the love-triangle elements without creating a very different book with a very different message. That love-triangle, far from defiling the war story, elevates it into something better.

It starts almost immediately in the first book. We see how Katniss has a deep friendship with Gale, something that could turn into romance, except that she doesn’t dare to go down that path. There’s no place for marriage, and definitely not for new children, in their broken world. She only has energy for day-to-day survival. And once Katniss goes into the Hunger Games, romance is definitely off the table. She needs to harden her heart and make no human connections with the people around her if she wants to have even the slimmest chance of making it back home to her family. In a lesser book, she’d be right–there’d be no goopy romance to distract us from the hard-bitten survival epic that the Hunger Games is supposed to be.

But then Peeta declares his love for her. Suddenly, she’s part of an epic romance on national television. She wants nothing to do with this strategy–love makes you look weak. (And doesn’t that sound a lot like people who criticize the YA love triangle?) But Haymitch counters that it makes her desirable to the audience, and suddenly the thing that had seemed so burdensome becomes necessary to her survival. She needs to play the game–and once they’re in the arena, she needs to figure out if it is a game to Peeta. Peeta has already shown himself capable of manipulating the emotions of all of Panem–is it possible that he’s manipulating her?

This is the real brilliance of the first book’s romance. It doesn’t distract from the main conflict–it is the main conflict. Like so many other teenage girls, Katniss asks herself, “Does this teenage boy like me?”, but in this case the answer is literally a matter of life and death. If he loves her, she can trust him to help her survive. If he doesn’t, he could kill her at any time.

By the time she finds out that his love is real, she has to fake romantic feelings toward him to draw in sponsors. Now she’s manipulating his emotions to survive, and she can’t hope to untangle what’s real and what’s fake in this manufactured mess of a reality show. But Peeta’s influence has shown her that love isn’t pointless in the Hunger Games–it’s the only way for them to truly fight back. She chooses love for Peeta–whether romantic or not–over her own life, and that’s the only reason that, for the first time in history, two victors manage to beat the Capitol at their own game. Katniss won not by being the best warrior, but by showing love. The love story wasn’t a distraction–it was the solution.

It’s only in Catching Fire that she has to deal with the consequences of that. She was willing to die for Peeta, but she’s not sure she wants to live with him, especially since their relationship started under such unreal circumstances. She’d much rather leave the Games–and Peeta–behind and return to the life she knew before. That life included Gale, and Katniss is, for the first time, willing to consider him as a romantic partner. If her romance with Peeta was fake, is it possible that she could have real romance with her best friend?

This is the point where the love triangle comes into full swing, and I’ll admit this is the book where it’s integrated most clumsily. It seems like Katniss is taking some unnecessary risks in pursuing a relationship with Gale, and the plot sometimes comes to a screeching halt so Katniss can think about her emotions. But even if the plot integration isn’t as smooth as it was in the first book, the thematic relevance of the love triangle is still spot-on. Katniss has to think about what she wants–cling to her old life or dive into this new post-Hunger Games world? Does love have a place in this world at war? And when we think about the question in that way, the sloppy integration of the love story into the main action plot is kind of the point. Katniss may be instigating a war, but she’s still a teenage girl. She still has emotions, but she’s being forced to hide or fake so many of them that she doesn’t know who she is, what she wants, or who she wants to be. How can she discover her identity, hold onto her humanity, in the middle of a war?

Mockingjay is where we get the answer to those questions. With Peeta imprisoned in the Capitol and the war underway, Katniss is saved from having to make an immediate decision about her romance. She echoes every romance-hating fan’s thoughts when she says:

The very notion that I’m devoting any thought to who I want presented as my lover, given our current circumstances, is demeaning.

There’s a war going on! There’s no time for love triangles! But it’s only when she’s not being forced to pursue romance with Peeta that she can really evaluate her relationship with Gale–and she’s finding that it’s not as strong as she thought. When she needs advice, she gets it from Prim, not Gale. When she needs someone who understands the trauma of killing, she goes to Finnick or Johanna. Now that Katniss and Gale don’t have the shared bond of having to care for their families–who are kept safe and fed by District 13–they’re finding that they don’t have much else in common. Katniss is mistrustful of Coin, while Gale is part of her inner circle. Katniss kills only when she has to during the war, while Gale treats weapon design as a fun challenge. This exploration of their relationship isn’t a distraction from the main plot. They’re what make the main plot mean something. This is the lens through which Katniss considers her views on violence, on war, on life, on what the point of their fight is. She and Gale literally have arguments about utilitarian principles! It’s only by exploring and then severing this leg of the love triangle that Katniss finds out who she is and what she really believes.

Collins couldn’t explore these issues in the same way if either Gale or Peeta wasn’t presented as a romantic interest. The nature of eros is desire, and the whole point of the Peeta vs. Gale question is Katniss figuring out what she wants out of life. She needs to be drawn to both of them, in the same kind of relationship, if the question and answer are to mean anything. Does Katniss want her old life, with Gale as the most important person, with his anger driving her to fight for survival by any means necessary? Or does she want a new life with Peeta, where they live for something beyond mere survival? Which man, which philosophy, does she want to devote her life to? If Peeta was the love interest and Gale was only the best friend, she could have both in her life. But you can’t resolve the trilogy’s central question by having Katniss compromise. Choosing one side means she can’t choose the other–and the only relationship that requires such an exclusive choice is a love triangle. Far from distracting from the main plot, the love triangle is what elevates it, takes it beyond a war story where the only question is how the characters will survive, and makes it into a story that tells us how the characters are going to live.

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zenkor123 · 3 months ago

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Journal of Peeta Mellark-Peeta tries out wrestling

October 8th 75 ADD

Coin has placed new restrictions on "edible frivolties" the cartel is In negotiations with coin on cake as our newest product.She will allow the cartel to sell 20 cakes a month. Making those cakes is me, we haven't had any orders yet.

Haymitch declined a job as a siphoner in our cartel but he likes our morphling cakes. He is a great customer he is thinking of ordering a cake! Haymitch also spends time in the den.

'Haymitch was involved with the cartel?" Katniss immediately thinks as her face shoots up, she is amused by this. She knew about it before, began seeing Haymitch in the den, he also saw Haymitch with Morphling. She didn’t bother to try to make him sober again. Not only that Effie also began smoking Morphling.

I am making a new plant book for the cartel, of different types of morphling in the forest. They have a 25 year old plant book but the couriers want an update to it. More then happy to give it to them,I haven't drawn any plants before as far as I can remember.

Katniss remembers watching Peeta draw the plant book it reminded her of the way Peeta was before and she shed a few tears silently watching watching the mutt that replaced Peeta draw as if he is Peeta. Yet I watched so as to enjoy the memories of Peeta drawing the plant book.

I am going to try out a new hobby, wrestling, in District 13 there is a wrestling center in the training wing, I have plenty of time so going to try out on Monday. As a Mutt, wrestling should come naturally to me and I vaguely remember doing it in the past. I want to crush and smash and beat people up. In my first day someone tries to taser me and it feels like I'm being tickled I laugh and say it tickles. I pick him up and he is screaming like he is about to die. I throw him to the other side of the rink and put my foot on him he is screaming. After 10 seconds pass he is allowed to leave. I scare people and it feels good. They say I sound like a mix between a capital mutt and a career from district 2.

Useful memories re-emerge of my past as a wrestler. Me fighting with Rye, me fighting with Phineus, my wrestling with Hersh, Than, Bowl. My combat with Cato and Brutus. My attempt to kill Dr Jones my successful murder of Harry Thread, Romulus Threads demented brother in the capital. When the capital tried to have me prostituted I swiftly snapped the necks of of my would be 'clients'. I killed an entire family of such scum they came to the room, I killed the dad, then ripped the moms head off all in front of their teenage son who began crying and was evacuated by peacekeepers. Many avoxes did not go down without a fight many killed their masters after Snow's announcement and I saw many mutts killed by avoxes. I tried to choke Katniss. It's not desperation or human nature or whatever crap Snow said deep inside me I was always a murderer. Its time I put my repressed violence to use for the rebellion.

Katniss is sure that with all the other stuff Peeta is dealing with Snow’s attempt to traffic him like Finnick got overlooked. But how could Snow be so stupid as to attempt this. Or was he? Snow wanted to test the lethality of his mutt and used this capital family as test subjects

Here is my schedule

At 8:00 I meet with Plutarch until 9 pm, at 10 pm I begin painting some bottles and work for the victors cell continues until 4 pm or even 6 pm. Then in the evening I aid with the combat training of rebels. Lunch is at 7 AM, and I wake up at 630.

Work is often just as effective escape as morphling is, like with morphling I've become addicted to working and I love feeling useful

#peeta mellark #katniss x reader #katniss and peeta #katniss everdeen #katniss x peeta #the hunger games katniss #thg katniss #the hunger games peeta #hijacked peeta #thg peeta #peeta x reader #katniss

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fishcat480 · 10 months ago

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Dog in Winter

SUMMARY:

Kids from Districts 1-4 don't have to fear the reaping.

Careers always volunteer.

Until a tragic accident forces Lustre Baneswood into the Games with no hope of winning. An actor, and the daughter of a Gamemaker, Lustre has to decide what she desires more: glory or her life.

But there is a dark underbelly to the Games, and winning is not always the end. Lustre Baneswood is going to discover the price one has to pay for beating the odds.

Spanning from the 72nd Hunger Games all the way to three years after the events of Mockingjay, this is the story of a girl struggling to reclaim her identity after giving it away to the people who would hurt her most.

FANDOM: Hunger Games

Pairing: Original Plus Size Character/Original Male Character

Other Characters: Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, Gloss, Cashmere, Joanna Mason, Katniss Everdeen, Peeta Mellark, President Snow, President Coin, Gale, Prim

It was 5am when the call came.

I’d been awake for hours writing, the only time I was able to get any of it done. Mother doesn’t like my writing, and classes at the observatory took up all of my time during the day. My hands were cramping over the datapad keyboard, and I swiped a knuckle over my bloodshot eyes, trying desperately not to succumb to sleep.

The sound of the phone had been so unexpected I’d jerked violently upright. With a cursory glance at the time, I quickly padded out of my room and into the empty hall. Moonlight shone in harsh slivers through the full-length windows. I followed the ringing sound through the silver-white hallway and into the main room of our apartment, where the phone lay next to the front door.

“Hello?” I said, agitation and fatigue coloring my voice. The door to my parents’ room opened and my mother stepped cautiously out, her hair wrapped in a pink silk turban and mouth set in a firm line. My father was just behind her, his eyes horizontal slits, his hair a tuft of downy cotton.

The voice on the phone shrieked at me. “Frederick?! Frederick something’s happened!”

I shook my head before I remembered they could not see me. “No, this is his daughter. Is this an emergency?”

The voice went from feverish to chilly in a moment, freezing my veins like icicles. “Put him on, love. It’s urgent.”

My father had already begun walking over, and he took the phone from me quickly. “Hello?” he asked, his hands reaching into the breast pocket of his pajamas, where he’d placed a box of matches. He fumbled in the drawer of the side table for smokes.

“Uh- huh…Yes, I remember….”

I watched him for a moment, hoping his body language might clue me into what was going on. When I got nothing, I joined my mother on the opposite side of the room. “ D’ya think everything’s ok?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s the Games. Everything’s an emergency.”

The Games were the most hectic time of our family’s life, with my father a showrunner and my mother performing in reenactments and singing at parties. Even my brothers had gotten involved now that they were out of school.

Still, the voice on the phone had sounded scared. Desperate. Something felt off.

“You’re joking.” my father said, lowering the cigarette from his mouth, and bellowing. “You’re fucking joking.”

“Fredrick?” my mother asked immediately. My father did not raise his voice ever. He stared at us, his face ashen, as he listened to whatever news was being delivered on the other end.

“Dad?” I asked, when his eyes locked onto mine and didn’t leave.

“We’ll get another volunteer.” he said, desperate. “There are dozens of kids. Dozens of options.”

Volunteer…?

The reaping had been two days ago, and as expected, both tributes had been volunteers, eager to go into the Games. That’s why I hadn’t even flinched when they called my name. Reaping day was like picture day at school - annoying, but a good excuse to get out of class.

My volunteer had been my best friend. It was her final year in the reaping pool, and her last chance to go into the Games and prove herself. If I could bet, I would have bet on her winning the entire thing.

But now my father was looking at me like I was a hundred miles away, and talking about other volunteers. Why did we need another volunteer? Where was Razzle?

“Dad!” I cried. “What’s going on?”

Tears had begun falling onto his cheeks, and my mother was lurching forward to hold his face in her hands. The excitement had woken my brothers now, both of them tumbling out of their rooms with mussed hair and slurring voices.

“Luster, what’s happening?” Kellen asked from behind me, he and Jace standing on either side of me. Jace scratched his chest with a lazy hand.

“Something bad.” I said. That was all I knew.

My mom was soothing our dad, her hands trying to rub away tears that just kept coming. The phone was pressed to my dad’s ear, still listening. He gently pushed my mom’s comfort away, resignation taking over. Something had happened to Razzle.

“What time?” he asked. The answer made him sigh.

“Ok.” And he hung up. My mother didn’t waste any time. “Frederick,what on earth is going on? It’s practically dawn. The Games are your job, not your life. Oh, these people!”

My mother continued ranting, but my father was looking at me again. I knew already that I would be leaving, but my mind was obsessing more over the why.

“What happened to her?” I asked. My mother grew quiet. My brothers looked confused.

“Training accident.”

“Is she…?”

“Yes.”

Dead. Razzle was dead. And she had volunteered in my place.

“When are they coming to get me?”

“Within the hour.”

My family’s eyes were widening and cries of indignation sounded on their tongues. “She’s going into the Games!?” my mother yelled. “No! Frederick, no!”

“She’s not trained.” Kellen said. Jace said nothing. He wasn’t much for talking.

“She was reaped!” my father explained. “And her volunteer has died. It is law that she must go.”

My mother’s eyes bugged out of her head. “And you’re a showrunner. Surely they don’t expect the law to apply to us!”

It often didn’t.

“This is different. This is the Games. If Luster becomes exempt from them for being my daughter, then other future tributes could argue their way out of participating. Snow would have to weed them out and use force. It could foster dissent.”

It was five in the morning and my family was standing in the living room, talking of treason.

“It’s fine. I’ll go.”

Kellen scoffed, arms folded across his chest. “You’ll die. You’re not a career, you’re a fucking actress.”

The heel of my mother’s hands were pressed against her eyes, her perfectly manicured nails curled tightly against the palm of her hand. “Kellen! Please, that’s not necessary.”

My father puffed on his cigarette, lost in thought. Kellen didn’t back down. “She’s not going to live, mom. Am I supposed to just sit here and watch while my sister dies?”

She draped herself across the chaise. “We’ll figure something out. I’ll talk to Pedro in casting. Maybe a lookalike?”

My father joined her, looking intrigued. “That might work. We’ll release her for training, but for the arena it can be anyone. Keep the close-ups to a minimum, kill her in the first ten minutes.”

Jace was still standing next to me. I watched in abject horror as my parents and Kellen planned the murder of an innocent girl in place of myself. I felt something warm on my hand, and looked down to see Jace’s pinky linking with mine. Then his whole hand. When I turned to him, he didn’t look upset or scared. He was smiling at me.

“Who was the girl who did makeup for you for 68?” Kellen had his hands on his hips, pacing across the living room. He looked the picture of a gamemaker, and it made my stomach swoop like drinking milk that had turned.

“Petra or something?” he asked. “Get her involved.”

My mother was taking notes on an old script. My father was punching something into a datapad, tugging at his hair in distress.

“Stop.” I called, but they ignored me.

“We’ll have to keep Luster out of sight for at least a year. Julian will find us a nice little bungalow for her to lie low in.”

“Pay for it now.” my father said. “Travel to the Capitol increases after the Games.”

“Stop!” I said again, and this time I got their attention.

“You are not killing a random girl just so I can live. That’s actually insane!”

My father shook his head. “No, there are people who like the attention! They’ll do it willingly.”

Willingly….When had someone in a District past four ever gone into a Games willingly?

“I don’t care. That’s fucked.” I removed my hand from Jace’s and ran it through my hair. “This whole thing is fucked.”

Gently, Kellen approached me. “Luster, I know you’re stressed. Let us …un fuck this for you. A year in lockdown, a new Games will happen, and everyone will forget about it. Then we’ll get you a job at the studio.”

“Doing what?” I laughed. “I’m eager to know what you think I’d want to do at the studio.”

He shrugged, frustration evident. “Stylist? Hair and makeup? I don’t know, Luster! I don’t really care, as long as you’re alive.”

“And what about the other tributes? The ones from 9? Or 12? The ones who don’t have careers to volunteer for them. What about the people who want them alive?”

My mother harrumphed, and somehow she had moved from the chaise to the bar, pouring herself a glass of port. “Oh, sweetie, it’s too early in the morning to develop a conscience.”

But drinking wine, I thought bitterly, was perfectly acceptable. If I said anything, she’d hold my impending doom up as her reason for indulging. My head was on the chopping block, but she’d be the one to lose blood somehow. I didn’t particularly care to open that can of worms, so I ignored her entirely in favor of turning to my father.

“Daddy, I don’t want you to get me out of this.”

That statement shifted the temperature of the room greatly. Stillness blanketed us. Kellen punched something hard enough to break it, but I refused to look at what it was. He was always so petulant, and I wouldn’t give into him.

I held my father’s gaze, desperate for him to see things my way, if only for a moment.

“I’ve done everything you guys wanted. I went to Opal instead of Harrison. I went into acting and not writing. I attended every party, talked to every miserable asshole, wore every stupid outfit. All I want in return is for you to let me go.”

He took a puff from his cigarette, already practically down to the filter. It was funny, watching him smoke. I’d never seen him do it before in my life. Not once.

“Why?”

It was a fair question. The answer was more complicated. Because it’s right …but he wouldn’t understand that. Because she volunteered for me…. He wouldn’t understand that either. Hell, I didn’t even understand why I wanted to go. But Jace was still smiling at me, still believing in me like he always had. Sometimes it felt like he knew what I needed before I even had a chance to do the needing.

“Because she was my best friend….and she was supposed to win.”

My father’s face fell. He may not have understood what was right, but he understood honor. He understood fair. He nodded slowly, stubbing his smoke out on the arm of the couch. He must have still been half asleep.

“Ok.”

He didn’t say anything else, and I thanked him quietly before giving him a hug. He held me to him, and it felt like when I was a girl and I would run to him as he came home from work, calling out to him in glee. He’d scoop me up from the ground and press all the pain and grief of his day into my bones, and I took it from him like any other gift. This hug felt like that. He was pressing his grief into my bones, except this time I was grieving too.

When the peacemakers came, I went willing. Quiet. Everyone knew not to resist a peacemaker, even if you were in the right. Agitation led to aggression. Peacemakers were not aggressive dogs, they were violent ones. Hand biting often led to death.

Kellen had refused to say goodbye. I didn’t entertain his fury, just wrapped my arms around his middle. He didn’t move away, but he didn’t hug me back.

Mother was three pours in by the time I had to go. She blew air kisses and raised her glass.

Jace gave me a proper hug and kiss, and pulling away from him had been the hardest goodbye of them all.

“My writing…” I told him, and he nodded.

“I’ll keep it safe.”

My father had taken helicarriers before. He would be taking one hours after me, headed to the Capitol for the Games. I hadn’t ever had the pleasure.

While the door was open, wind and sound rotated around you in a maelstrom. There was something happening everywhere. A seatbelt was being placed across my lap, a pilot was checking gauges, the Peacekeepers chatting in even tones. When the door was closed, though, it was silent.

A light thrum of the engine was the only background noise, but I was effectively left alone with my thoughts for an hour. This was not good.

My thoughts were instantly on Razzle, and with nothing to distract my mind, grief settled in my chest like a purring cat.

She’d spent the morning of the reaping in my bed. We often had sleepovers, but this one had not involved much sleep. Her hands had touched me roughly, like sandpaper, and I had liked the grit of it. I was always considered so delicate, like glass. Razzle touched me like I was solid stone.

She’d whispered promises into my hair, weaving them around the strands like the ribbons I would place there hours later. “When I win, we’ll go away.” She’d said. “When I win, we’ll have forever.”

When. There had been no question in my mind that there would be a when. The only question left unanswered was the how.

But now, there was no when or if or how. There was instead.

We touched down in only an hour. My stomach roiled from the constant vibrations, and when I stepped off it lurched dangerously. Vomit pushed its way onto my tongue. I stopped halfway from the helicarrier and the safety of the roof entrance, the peacekeepers’ hands flying straight to their guns.

I waved my hand at them to give me a moment, but they grabbed me violently by the arm and shoved me along my way. The nausea bobbed up and down inside me. I tried to keep myself from letting it give way to sickness.

In the end I didn’t throw up, but I wanted to.

We took an elevator down, down, down. The first District tributes stayed on the first floor, with the second District tributes on the second and so on and so on all the way until the penthouse. District Twelve lived like cattle, so they got treated like kings. We were all being served up on the finest of China, waiting to be eaten whole.

The Peacekeepers kept their eyes trained on me. They wanted me to act out. A peacekeeper craved violence like a horse craved water after a long ride. The one to my left tightened his hand around his baton. I looked down at the floor.

They dropped me off in the first floor suite, where two people waited at the dining room table. I knew them as Gloss and Cashmere, winners of the 63rd and 64th Games respectively. Cashmere sat cross legged on the table, her silky blond hair pulled into a low ponytail. Her pajamas were champagne colored silk and they emphasized icy blue eyes that stared at me with no discernible emotion.

Gloss stood scowling, his large arms folded across his chest. His pajama pants were silk, too, except in blackest black. Instead of the matching shirt he wore a white T-shirt.

I felt a bit lackluster in my grey sweats and Opal academy shirt.

“You must be Luster.” Said Cashmere.

I nodded.

“I’m Cashmere.” She waved, her lips forming into an inhumanly beautiful smile. She was like what you thought of when someone said ‘the prettiest girl you know’.

“This is Gloss.” She pointed to him and he made no gesture of greeting. He simply stared.

The Peacekeepers that had escorted me were already back in the elevator. I looked around the suite for the first time and noted its distinct Capitol style. The furnishings were modern, with rich golds and deep blacks accenting them. The large dining table was made of frosted glass. A sectional couch took up most of the living room area, its cream colored cushions pristine in the light of a mini chandelier.

“Can I go to bed?” I asked.

Gloss sighed and dropped his arms. It was the first movement he’d made the entire time I’d been there. It was like watching a statue come to life.

“I’ll be your trainer.” He said, ignoring my question.

“Ok great. Can I go to bed now?”

Cashmere looked a bit puzzled. “Do you have any questions for us? I’m sure this has been a difficult transition.”

What a paltry word for what had happened. Transition implied choice, of which I had none.

“I’ll ask them in the morning. I haven’t been to bed and I’d like to get as much sleep as possible.”

Brother and sister stared idly at each other. They appeared to be having some sort of telepathic conversation, much like she’d seen Kellen and Jace do many times. She needed to fall asleep soon or she’d be plagued by memories of home.

The conversation ended when Cashmere motioned with her hand to where the tributes’ rooms were.

“The door on the left.”

The other tribute had already claimed the room on the right. I would be sleeping in the same place Razzle had.

I gave a curt nod and exited, my fists balled at my side. I didn’t relax until the door to my room was closed and I was lying on the very plush, inviting bed.

It seemed the odds were ever in my favor, because no matter how hard I tried, I always seemed to get the short end of a very long stick.

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jhsgf82 · 1 year ago

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Let's talk about Mr Everdeen, Mrs Everdeen, and Mr Mellark.

“He said, ‘See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner,’” Peeta says.

“What? You’re making that up!” I exclaim.

“No, true story,” Peeta says. “And I said, ‘A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she could’ve had you?’ And he said, ‘Because when he sings... even the birds stop to listen.’”

From this, do you think Mr Mellark had serious relationship with Mrs Everdeen?

Do you think her family disown her, after Mrs Everdeen marry with Mr Everdeen?

Thank you :) @curiousnonny

Ohhh! Very interesting questions! Actually, I started writing a prequel to explore all this, but I haven't gotten too far with it.

In my head, it could go a couple of ways: They could've been close friends whom everyone expected to get married, similar to Katniss and Gale, yet it was more one-sided on Mr. Mellark's part.

Or, perhaps (again one-sided) Mr. Mellark had a major crush on Mrs. Everdeen but had never talked to her, similar to Peeta and Katniss.

I feel like one of the above is most likely, but then again, the way Mr. M put it does sound like they could have been involved in some way but then Mr. E came along and swept Mrs. E off her feet.

Do I think she was disowned? Possibly. We don't hear anything about the grandparents, from what I recall, so it's highly possible. Or maybe they died before Katniss was born or something. Or maybe it was just Mrs. E's choice to go off with her husband and leave them behind because she was so in love and/or maybe she didn't have a good/close family relationship.

Lots of possibilities!

It's been a while since I've read the books, but I'll keep an eye out for related details on my re-read.

P.S. I've seen an argument that a prequel about the Quarter Quell generation would have essentially been pointless because we know the important details, i.e. what happened during Haymitch's games. While I agree that TBOSAS was an important story to tell, I still think there were lots of details about that generation that could have been expounded upon, and I think it would've made a great movie. Granted, I think it'd be more a hardcore fan service than anything, kinda like all the talk of remakes and expansions of the original movies/books.

P.S.S. I'm going for the more dramatic route in my prequel, just for fun, and saying Mr. M and Mrs. E did have a semi-serious relationship. ;)

Thanks for the ask!

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promptsinpanem · 2 years ago

Text

Watercolours

Summary: Katniss studying Peeta from afar, searching for a way to clear her debt for the bread, She learns of his art interest, and the capitol holds a contest with the prize being a fully funded art education (or a one-time experience) that is open to all the districts, but he could never afford the materials he needs to enter. How does she make this happen? What happens to Peeta? And do they have a future together after it?

Rating: T

Prompt: Finish Your Fic (for Kika) / R4D7 What if?

Read previous chapters here

Chapter 5

“Hello, Hazelle, is Gale home?”

“Hi, Katniss, yes he is. Please come in.” The Hawthorne house feels like family, and it’s always cheerful, despite the lack of abundant food, or luxuries.

“No, thank you. I’m in a hurry. I just need to talk to him.” When Hazelle raises her eyelashes, I say the only thing I can think of, “Business.”

Not that Gale and I hunt together often nowadays, but she accepts my explanation and goes inside to get her eldest.

“Hey, Catnip, what’s up?” He is smiling, totally unaware of the news I’m going to deliver, and totally unaware of my fury.

“Peeta has asked me to give you a message.” He stiffens but tries to keep a neutral face. “It is going to be tonight; your group has to be ready by midnight.”

“I was going to tell you, Katniss.”

“When?” I confront him. “When the rebellion had already started?

“No, a bit before.I was thinking we could use the cabin at the lake for our families and Leevy.” He looks apologetic, at least. “This timing isn’t ideal. We aren’t ready.”

“Peeta said it was too early, too.”

“He has a lot of confidence in you to trust you with this.

I scoff at his words. “He didn’t have much of an option; he said he couldn’t come himself because it might be peculiar and could raise questions.”

“He would have told you anyway, Katniss.”

“How do you know?”

“He told me.”

“Since when are you two friends?”

“I wouldn’t call us friends. But we’re in this together. We are allies.”

“But I didn’t want to be involved in this!” I hiss. I am furious, and I don’t care what these idiots say.

“You are involved! We all are!” he shouts but quickly becomes aware of our location on the street and grasps my arm to lead me to the backyard. His words now a whisper, he says, “You don’t have a clue what he has done. You don’t have a clue how much risk he’s taken up until now and how much risk he will be taking from now on. This is bigger than just District Twelve.”

I frown at his words. He’s right; I don’t have a clue who Peeta Mellark is, because he sure as hell is a great actor. “And I don’t want to know,” I finish stubbornly. “He lied to me.”

Gale embraces me in a tight hug and whispers against my ear, “Katniss, I love you, you know that. That’s why I’m telling you; you will never forgive yourself if something happens to Peeta.” I nod, trying to hold back the tears that his words or his departure bring to my eyes.“Listen, my family will be at your place for dinner. Stay there for a couple of hours and then escape to the lake. Understood?”

“Yes.”

Take care, Catnip.”

“You too, Gale.”

And with a kiss on his cheek, I go home.

Mom and Prim aren’t at home when I get there, but their note says they won’t take long. I try not to be worried; they will be on time, but what happens if they aren’t?

To keep my mind occupied I begin to pack, just the essentials. The cabin is three hours away at a fast pace, and we will go in the dark, with kids and our belongings…

It is not going to be easy.

I’m in the kitchen cooking dinner when I hear my sister calling my name. “Hey Katniss, you’re home.”

Her joy has always been contagious, and even in the most dire situation, she’s the person that can bring a smile to my face. “And I am cooking,” I tease because it’s well known in the Everdeen household that cooking isn’t one of my talents. “Where's Mom? I need to talk with both of you.”

My mom appears in the threshold of the kitchen while I’m asking the question and looks at me with expectation. She’s seen the baggage in our room but stays quiet and waits for me to speak. I don’t think our house is bugged, but just in case, I signal to the backyard, and the two of them follow me.

“There’s going to be an uprising tonight, here in twelve, and most likely in other districts as well.”

Both of them gasp. “We have to escape tonight with the Hawthornes to Dad’s lake. It will be a long, tough trip with small kids; it’ll be cold; some parts of the terrain will be covered by snow or frozen, and it’ll be dark. I’ve packed the basics, but you should double check your healer kit. The Hawthornes will be here shortly, so could you please finish it?”

“Did you pack your dad’s plant book?” My mom asks.

“We can’t bring it with us, Mom. It’s too heavy.” She frowns at my answer. “You need to be realistic, Mom.” There’s a clear edge of exasperation in my voice because I already feel guilty for leaving it behind. But we need to be practical if we want to survive.

“I am not going anywhere without that book, Katniss.”

“It’s just a book,” I shout, exasperated because, of course, she had to be difficult today.

“It’s more than a book.”

“Mom…”

“No, listen. Did I ever tell you I didn’t say goodbye to your dad the day he died in the mines?” I shake my head; I didn’t know. “I was mad at him over something silly that I can’t really remember anymore. When we went to sleep that night I didn’t kiss him goodnight, and in the morning, I also refused to kiss him. He kissed me on the top of my head and told me that he’d make it up to me that night and that we’d work on the plant book. He never came back… I wasted our last night, our last kiss, and I will regret it my whole life. That book, and you girls, are the last reminder of your father.”

Her eyes are sad, and for the first time, I can truly understand her grief, but her confession brings Gale’s words back to my mind. There’s a knock on the door signaling that the Hawthornes and Leevy are here. The next two hours are quiet and full of tension, for we are all conscious that our life is about to change… forever.

“Ok, let’s go,” says Rory, looking at the watch on his wrist. It’s his dad’s, a watch Gale has been wearing since I’ve known him. It’s not lost on me, the meaning of my friend’s gesture; it’s a way to protect their legacy, like my mom is trying to do with my dad’s plant book. Because a war is about to start… and people die in wars.

We make it faster than we anticipated and without any incident through the fence, and we start the hike to the cabin. I can’t shake the fear I have everytime Peeta’s image pops up in my head.

“This is a good spot to rest for five minutes; it’s the start of the trail that leads to the lake.” I can hear the sigh of relief coming from Hazelle and Posy. “I need to go with Rory to hide our tracks, just in case, ok?”

Everyone nods, and I motion to Rory to follow me. Once we’re out of earshot, I whisper to him, “What time is it?”

“Ten minutes to eleven.” That’s good; I still have some time. Not a lot, but it should be enough.

“Listen, Rory, I need to go back.”

“You’re joking, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not. I need to do something important. I will leave the district before midnight. You know the way, Rory; you can lead them to the next clearing and I’ll meet you there in a couple of hours.”

“I can’t do this!”

“Yes, you can. I trust you. You know I wouldn’t leave Prim with anyone I wouldn’t trust her life with. I know you will keep her safe.” The previous hesitation in his face molds to determination when he hears me speak my sister’s name.

“I will. I promise.”

“I’ll meet you by one at the river clearing, but if I’m late, don’t wait for me. We will meet in the cabin.” I turn around to leave, but Rory’s words stop me.

“What do you want me to tell them? Prim will ask.”

“Tell my mom to explain to Prim why my dad's plant book is so important. They will understand.”

When Rory goes back, I run back to Twelve, and Peeta.

I get to Victor’s Village in record time and knock on Peeta’s door, but no one answers. I realize I never thought Peeta wouldn’t be at home. I look at the windows and I don’t see light or any movement, but my eyes catch the light in Haymitch’s house.

Without knocking this time, I stomp in my employer’s home.

“Haymitch! Haymitch, are you awake? Have you seen Peeta?” I shout from the hall.

“No need to shout, sweetheart; we are here, and as you should know we have guests.” I go to the dining room with the intention of asking him what the hell he is talking about, and I am shocked to see two peacekeepers, Crane and Darius, sharing dinner with them. “And here she is, a bit late to help with the dinner but on time for cleaning up” he announces for the audience.

“Sorry,” I answer in a neutral voice. “But you told me to be here at a quarter past eleven.”

“I clearly said a quarter past eight.”

“No, you didn’t.” I frown, hoping our charade can explain my unusual interruption at nearly midnight before the rebellion starts.

Peeta laughs,and I frown at him. “What?” I snap.

He shrugs and looks at Haymitch, who laughs again. “It was definitely at quarter past eight, Katniss. You don’t listen when people talk to you.”

I see in Crane’s face that Peeta’s words have hit the nail on the head, and we are saved. I realise also why Peeta and Haymitch have made it this far, because nothing throws them.

“I will take the dishes to the kitchen.”

“I’ll help you,” Peeta offers, standing up. “I need to prepare some chocolates for the drinks.”

“Chocolate?” Crane asks, surprised.

“Oh yes, it’s the latest trend in the Capitol.”

“I’ll pour the drinks in the library, gentlemen. Please follow me” Haymitch says, and they move to the next room.

When we are alone in the kitchen, Peeta closes the door behind us.

“Is everything ok? What are you doing here, Katniss? You should be out of here.”

“I know.”

“Then, what are you doing here? Why did you want to speak with me?”

There are hundreds of questions I want to ask Peeta, such as why the peacemakers are having dinner with them, what his role in this rebellion is going to be, why did Gale tell me he was taking big risks… But I do the only thing I can think of; even if it may be suicide, I kiss him. Peeta laces his arms around my waist and kisses me back.

“I don’t know what this is for, but I’ll take what you give me,” he says, nipping my jaw.

“I didn’t want to leave while we were mad,” I answer him. “I wanted you to know that… that I care about you.”

“I wish I could freeze this moment right now and live in it forever.” He places one of his large hands on my cheek, and I lean my head into it, taking his warmth.

“I would allow it.”

“Will you?” he asks hopefully. I can only nod as tears pool my eyes. “Hey, don’t be sad. I promise I’ll be back.”

“You can’t promise that,” I reply.

“You’re right, I can’t, but I can promise I will fight until my last breath to come back to you. Because you owe me, Katniss Everdeen.” I look at him flabbergasted and he registers my surprise “Is that too much?” he asks “Do I need to apologise?”

I know I should be scared of his words that show his undeniable love for me, but they just warm my heart.

“No, you don’t. I wish you could stay with me.”

“One day” he says, disentangling from my embrace. “But, I need to go now, or Crane will be suspicious again, and you need to leave before everything starts.”

“And Darius?”

“Darius is one of us.” And that makes sense because Darius has always been a gentle person. “Listen to me now. It’s important. Haymitch is going to pour some sleep syrup in Crane’s and my drink. They need to think I’m with the Capitol, so I can send information from there.”

“Peeta…” I exclaim with dismay.

“I won’t be able to speak with you or see you until this war ends, but I’ll be thinking about you, every second. I’ll come back to you, Katniss. Always.”

“Always,” I repeat.

He kisses me once more and then walks out of the kitchen with a dish full of chocolates and vanilla.

That’s the last time I see Peeta until the war ends sixteen months later. Fortunately, the uprising in Twelve is successful, and the Capitol forgets very quickly about it. We are poor, and they have other more strategic districts to defend, but the war, as always , is brutal, and there are many casualties.

True to his word, Peeta doesn’t try to communicate with me, but Haymitch tells me when he can that Peeta is still alive, and I cling to that hope.

It’s a splendid spring day when the war ends and peace is signed, and I decide to go to the meadow to enjoy the sun and the feeling of freedom. A freedom we have earned after decades of Hunger Games and oppression. I wish my dad could see this new Panem, a Panem where Prim and Rory’s child, my beautiful niece, can live carefree.

I am so absorbed in these thoughts that I don’t hear the footsteps approaching until

I hear his voice saying my name.

“Katniss…” His blue eyes are on me when I turn around, and butterflies flutter in my stomach.

“You’re back.”

“They wouldn’t let me leave the Capitol until yesterday.”

He looks well, a bit thin but healthy, and that is all that matters. I run to him and wrap my arms tightly around his neck; he pulls me in close and buries his face in my hair. Warmth radiates from the spot where his lips touch my neck, slowly spreading through the rest of me. It feels so good, so impossibly good, that I know I won’t be the first to let go.

“So…will you stay with me?” I whisper with a bit of uncertainty that disappears as soon as he answers.

“Always.”

#promptsinpanem #submission #fivetenfifteen #specialchallenges #alwayseverlark

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jlalafics · 3 years ago

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How about a fic where peeta has a panty sniffing fetish?

Katniss has a website where she sells her gently worn panties to help bring in extra money to pay for medical school for Prim.

peeta and Katniss are neighbors and eventually she discovers a drawer full of her drawers in his house🩲

Hello! This is a bit of a long one, but I hope it meets your expectations. Happy Sunday!

I'd also like to say that if this is not your jam, do not attempt to read this. We all have different kinks/fetishes and this is just a story of one sort.

-------

“How was your date last weekend?”

Peeta sighed, taking a sip from his beer bottle, and grimaced at Gale.

“Kind of a wreck,” he admitted to his friend. “Beverly is nice, but there wasn’t really a spark. We parted on good terms and hugged it out.” Placing the bottle on the coffee table, Peeta met Gale’s skeptic stare. “I know that you think I’ve been lonely since Delly, but really, I’m okay.”

“I’m sure you’re okay,” Gale said. “I also know that it’s been a year since you’ve been laid. Yeah, there wasn’t a spark with Beverly. But dude, wasn’t there enough of a spark to get an erection?”

Peeta shook his head. “Not even close.” He smiled grimly. “We’re not all as lucky as you, Gale.”

“Why is Gale lucky?”

Madge, Gale’s wife, stepped into the room. She sat next to her husband in the loveseat adjacent to Peeta.

“I wasn’t lucky enough to fall in love with the only female in our trio,” Peeta replied with a smile. “Not that I mind. You’re like my sister, and we look like we could be twins. That’s too much of an incest vibe for me.”

“Glad we’re on the same page, bro,” Madge retorted. She gave him an affectionate smile. “You know we love you, right? It’s the only reason we bug you about your single status. We want you to be happy.”

“And sexually satisfied,” Gale added with a smirk.

“Both of you are too involved in my love life.” He stood up, slapping hands with Gale, and then kissing Madge’s cheek. “I’m going to go and let you do your married things.”

Madge grinned. “Well, I am ovulating…”

Peeta grimaced. “Okay, gross.

++++++

Stepping off the elevator, Peeta dragged himself towards his apartment. He loved his friends, but they could be exhausting with their attempts to help him get his life together—as in trying to help him find true love.

All in all, Peeta had a good life. His job as a graphic designer was going well, and he was up for a promotion. He was close to his two older brothers and his parents were always loving and supporting towards their sons’ endeavor. They were also heading towards their 35th year of marriage and more in love than ever.

His brothers were also happily married; Bran to his high school sweetheart, Cressida, and Rye to his partner, Marvel.

While he, the youngest of the family, remained single.

Peeta didn’t want to be alone. However, there were certain things about him that needed some…consideration.

“Oh, damnit!”

His thoughts were interrupted and Peeta looked to find a young woman kneeling in front of her door, grabbing at the pile of groceries that had fallen from the broken paper bag next to her. A lone cantaloupe rolled, stopping at his feet which he immediately picked up.

He rushed over to her, cradling the fruit. “I believe this is yours.”

The dark-haired woman smiled gratefully. “Thanks.” She took the cantaloupe from his grasp, placing it at her side. “These damn paper bags. It was fine on the drive home and up towards this floor, but the minute I grab for my keys, it ripped!”

“This happened to me a lot, too,” he replied, helping her gather her items. “Then, I found a solution.”

“And what was that?”

“Reusable bags.”

She snorted. “I’ll get right on that.”

Peeta reached into his messenger bag, pulling out the rolled-up bag he always kept on hand. “Here.”

“I couldn’t,” the woman said, her grey eyes wide. “I mean, it’s really nice of you to offer—”

“Peeta. Peeta Mellark.” He pointed to his door, across from hers. “Your neighbor.”

“Katniss Everdeen.”

She held out her hand and Peeta shook it. Her skin was soft…warm. As their palms kissed, a jolt of desire rush through him. It surprised him, the immediate attraction to this young woman. She was at least a few years younger than him, give or take.

“Well, Katniss Everdeen, consider it my welcome present,” he told her. “Why don't you unlock your door while I put these in the bag?”

She stared at him quizzically…no, more like suspiciously. “You’re really nice.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No…” Katniss stood, reaching into the purse against her hip, and pulling out a set of keys. “…I’m just not used to getting help from anyone. It’s just been me and my younger sister, Prim, for a long time now. I’m just used to being the one doing the helping.”

Peeta chuckled. “That’s how I am!”

“We’re a problematic duo, aren’t we?” Katniss opened the door, and he stood, handing her the bag. “I’ll wash it and give it back.”

“Keep it,” he insisted. “Gives me an excuse to knock on your door and see you.”

Katniss leaned against her doorway, her expression curious. “And, how?”

“To check on my bag.”

She laughed, bright and pretty, making his stomach tumble in a way that Peeta was wholly unused to.

“I’ll take good care of your bag, Peeta. Have a good evening.”

Katniss closed the door, and he stepped back towards his own.

“Goodnight, Katniss.”

Peeta turned toward his own door, pondering his sudden need to want to know everything about Katniss Everdeen.

++++++

“This is amazing, Prim!” Katniss read over the acceptance letter, her eyes filling. “I am so proud of you.” She placed the letter on the coffee table and pulled her sister into a hug. “I know Mom and Dad would be too. Medical school—and the top one at that!”

“Sis—” Prim pulled away, blue eyes flooded with concern. “It’s so expensive…and we’re already in so much debt just from me getting my bachelor's degree. How are we going to afford this?”

“I don’t want you to worry,” Katniss assured her. “I’ll figure it out, okay? As for you, look into scholarships because every little bit counts.”

Prim pulled her into another hug.

“I love you. You’re the best sister ever!” They separated and she jumped from her seat. “I’m going to call Rue and let her know that her best friend is going to be a doctor!”

Katniss chuckled at her Prim’s exuberance as she rushed to her bedroom. However, as soon as her door closed, Katniss let the smile slide off her face.

Reaching for her cell, Katniss quickly pressed Johanna’s name, and waited for her best friend to pick up.

Johanna immediately answered, “What’s up, sweetie?”

“Prim got into medical school.”

“That’s great!” her friend said. “But what about the cost?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Katniss replied. “I mean, we could try for financial aid, but we’re still paying for Prim’s four-year school. We could maybe receive some scholarship money, but that wouldn’t be much.”

“That’s the shits,” Johanna grumbled. “I mean, I could look into some work at my office—”

“No, it’s fine,” she said. “I have my admin job for that law firm downtown. It’s keeping me afloat along with the grocery store.”

“You’re running yourself ragged.”

“But it never seems like enough,” Katniss told her. “My day job pays the rent and my night job keeps us from starving. There’s no room for anything else.”

“There might be something…but you’re going to need to have an open mind.”

“At this point, I’ll try anything.”

“There’s this woman at work who was kind of in the same boat as you—needing extra cash,” Johanna began. “So, she started to sell a few personal items of hers and made an assload of cash.”

“What do I have to sell? Everything I own is crap!”

“Well…” Johanna cleared her throat. “She was selling her panties.”

“Were they La Perla or something?” Katniss asked. “I own plain old Target panties.”

“She was selling her used panties!” Johanna burst. “There’s a website where people will buy your gently used panties for a huge amount of cash.”

Katniss felt her head begin to throb. “I don’t understand.”

“Apparently, this is a huge turn on for some people,” her friend explained. “You know—panty sniffing.”

“Oh.” Katniss’ curiosity was piqued. “What would I have to do?”

“Just wear a pair for a day and then post them to the site,” Johanna said. “I mean, this would be a worst-case scenario if anything—”

“Prim got into one of the top medical schools.” Katniss knew how desperate she sounded, but they were barely able to keep their water running at this point. “I’ll do anything.”

“I understand,” Johanna told her gently. “How about, while Prim is in class, I come over and we just start you off with one post?”

Katniss sighed, wondering if the orange pair she was wearing would suffice, or even entice a buyer.

“Alright.”

++++++

Peeta toyed with the pair of panties in his hand.

He never really cruised sites like this one, but it had been a year since Delly. The lace pair she had gifted him had long lost her scent, and he had not thought about getting a new pair.

Until Katniss.

There was something about her that stirred him. They hadn’t seen one another since that day last week but his thoughts were constantly of her. Of her raven hair…and that soft olive skin…and that beautiful pearlescent smile…

Peeta thought about knocking on her door, but his confidence faltered as soon as his feet touched her doormat.

Instead, he would leave reusable bags at her doorstep, different things inside. Just yesterday, it had been a bottle of wine that Madge and Gale gifted him from their recent trip to Napa Valley.

His gaze went back to the delicate pair in his hands. It had been the deep orange that caught his eyes—like the sunset. Not to mention, it was his favorite color. They were cotton and lined with delicate lace around the waistline of the bikini-style panties.

He brought the pair to his nose, taking in a deep inhale. The scent was a soft musk with a hint of sweetness to it. Something about the smell caused his stomach to swoop.

There was something familiar about her scent.

It comforted him, thrilled him, and his heart raced because it felt in a lot of ways as her scent was his and his alone. He was never possessive, but the thought of anyone owning any of her pairs caused a sting of jealousy.

Going to his laptop, Peeta immediately favorited the seller before closing it.

Putting the pair into the top drawer of his dresser, he went to get ready for his usual Friday night dinner with Gale and Madge. Madge was trying out a new recipe and Peeta promised to grab dessert. The fancy supermarket was just minutes away from their place and they had awesome cakes.

Hopefully being with his friends would get his mind off the pair…and off Katniss.

++++++

Five more minutes.

Katniss blew the strand of her hair off her forehead as she bounced on her toes behind the checkout counter. Somewhere in the store, Prim waited for her shift to finish so they could head home for the night.

At least, tomorrow was her day off. The office was closed on the weekends and miraculously they hadn’t scheduled her to work. Katniss pondered on what to do with her free day. There was that pile of laundry gathering in their hamper…and also several episodes of The Circle waiting for her on her laptop…

Wow, her life was sad.

“Katniss?”

She looked up to find Peeta Mellark, her neighbor, grinning warmly at her. A heat immediately infused her cheeks and Katniss prayed that she didn’t look too flushed.

“Hi,” she greeted. Her eyes went to the boxed cake from their bakery. “Good choice. I love the chocolate cake.”

“I’m having dinner with my two best friends,” he explained. “Madge is making something new and well, Gail loves this cake.”

Katniss raised a brow curiously—two female best friends? Of course, he had two girl best friends.

Peeta was one of those men who not only unbelievably attracted with his deep blues and sandy swept back hair, but also genuinely charming.

She wondered if this Friday night dinner was code for something else.

Shit—was she jealous?

“Good luck with the new recipe,” she told him. “And who wouldn’t love this cake? I mean, chocolate is an instant mood lifter for girls.”

Peeta’s brows furrowed for a moment before he burst out in laughter.

“I’m sorry if I confused you, but Gail is a guy,” he informed her. “Spelled G-A-L-E.”

“Oh! I thought it was pretty cool that you had two female best friends…my mistake.”

Inside, Katniss whooped in happiness.

“Known them since forever. They’ve been a couple most of my life while I’ve been their third wheel.” Peeta met her eyes. “For a moment, I thought you were jealous.”

“And why would I be jealous?” she questioned.

He smiled widely and her center twisted in hunger. The night they met; Katniss had closed her eyes to sleep but her mind wandered to the man across the hall. She was surprised how attractive she found him and how much she wanted to imagine his lips dragging along her skin.

“I don’t know.” Peeta held out his credit card, his stare firmly on her as she took it. “Maybe it was that I was hoping you were—”

Katniss fumbled, dropping the card but immediately getting together to run it through her register.

She tore the receipt from the feeder and then handed it to him along with the card.

“Thanks for coming in,” she said hurriedly. “I’ll see you around.”

Peeta stared at her for a moment. He almost looked…hurt.

Katniss softened her stance, giving him a small smile. She liked him and didn’t want to scare him off. However, it had shocked her system to hear him flirting with her.

She took a breath. “Maybe I was…a little.”

“You have nothing to worry about,” he assured her. Peeta cleared his throat before stepping closer to the counter. “I know this might sound forward but…maybe you’d want to join me?”

“At your friends’ house?”

He nodded. “Yes, I’d like them to meet you. I may have mentioned the beautiful woman next door more than once.”

Katniss shook her head. “I’m not beautiful. Prim was always the beauty of the Everdeen family. I’m the practical one, the ordinary one.”

His hand covered hers where it rested on the counter.

“I happen to find you inordinately beautiful. This beautiful, ebony hair—” His other hand reached for the tip of her braid. “—that sweet face…” His index finger traced her jawline before lifting her chin. “And those eyes—so full of life. Even in all that gorgeous grey, I can see that spark…that fire.”

Her breath caught in her throat. No one had ever said anything so…passionate to her, let alone about her.

“Katniss?”

Prim stood before them, her blue eyes curious, and Peeta immediately dropped his hand.

Her sister walked over. “Who’s this?”

Katniss swallowed down her embarrassment at being caught.

“This is our neighbor, Peeta Mellark.” She smiled at him. “Peeta, this is my sister Prim.”

“Nice to finally meet you!” Prim said brightly as she eyed Katniss. “My sister mentioned our cute neighbor which surprised me because Katniss never talks about guys. Her last date was about a year ago and the dude was a total douchebag. I thought for a moment that she had given up on men—”

“Prim,” she called out. “Let’s not scare our nice neighbor who helped me with our groceries, okay?”

“It’s nice to meet you, Prim.” Peeta gave her a kind smile before looking at Katniss. “I was just asking your sister if she wanted to join me at my friends’ house for dinner—”

“She’d love to!” Prim beamed at her. “I was worried about her being all alone tonight as I’m heading out for a friend’s birthday party.”

“I’m not sure.” Katniss bit her lip anxiously. What if his friends didn’t like her? She was a twenty-four-year-old loner working two jobs. She never went to college, having to drop out to take custody of Prim after their parents sudden passing. “I’m not exactly party ready.”

“It’s very casual,” Peeta assured her. “I know whatever you wear will look great.”

“Come on, Katniss!” Prim urged. “It will be fun. Don’t worry about having to leave the car here. I’ll take it home. You have the keys, right?”

Her gaze went to Peeta. He was looking at her with a barely concealed warmth and the thought made her chest burn, not in the scary way but in the exhilarated way that made her whole-body thrum.

“Okay, I’ll go,” she relented. “I’m off work now but I have to grab my stuff.”

“Great!” Peeta beamed and her sister clapped happily. “I’ll be waiting right here.”

“You can wait by your car. I don’t want you to have to just stand here.”

“Katniss, for you, I’ll wait for as long as I have to.” His hand went to hers. “I’ve waited long enough for you.”

++++++

“She’s great,” Madge said quietly. “And you two live across from one another?”

Peeta nodded, watching as Katniss and Gale debated over the best archery spots in their town. Apparently, Katniss’ father had been a master archer and had taught his eldest daughter the sport. Gale had been captain of their high school archery team.

“I was heading home from dinner with you and Gale. Her groceries had fallen from her bag, and I helped her out. I haven’t been able to get her off my mind since.”

“I approved, and I know Gale does,” his friend told him. “Anyone who shares my husband's love for archery is a winner in his book.” She watched the two for a moment. “Katniss looks young, but she comes off as a lot older.”

“She’s twenty-four.” They had gone over the basics about one another during their drive over to the Hawthorne house. “I know I have a good five years over her, but she’s no ordinary twenty-four-year-old. Katniss took over custody for her sister when she was just eighteen. She had to drop out of college and start working to feed them both. Now, her sister Prim has just gotten into medical school.”

“Wow,” Madge breathed. “She carries a lot.”

“I really like her,” he admitted. “More than I’ve ever liked anyone. I might not have known her for very long, but I can already see that Katniss has a huge heart. She’s the kind of person I want…need in my life.”

“I just want you to be careful, Peeta,” his friend warned. “Make sure Katniss feels the same. You two are on two different levels. I know that you’re at that point where you want to get married. She might not be. Just keep that in mind.”

“What are you talking about?” Gale suddenly hollered.

“The chocolate cake waiting in the kitchen.” Peeta stood up, going to Katniss. He held his hand out. “Want a piece?"

Katniss smiled, placing her hand in his and giving it a squeeze. His chest burst at the affection in just that one pulse from her palm to his.

She stood up, her smoky eyes on him, and Peeta found himself lost in them.

“I’d love one.”

++++++

“I like Gale and Madge.” They walked towards their apartment door, pressed closely together. “Though that paella was questionable.”

Peeta chuckled. “Well, Madge is good at a lot of things. However, experimenting with recipes is not one of them.” They stopped as they reached their doors and he guided them over to hers. “Thank you for coming with me. It was nice to not be the third wheel for once.”

Katniss nodded, rocking between her feet. It was obvious she was nervous. Rightly so, they were at their doors, and it was that moment where you wondered if you should go in for a kiss or just walk away. Honestly, Peeta wanted nothing more than to feel those cherry lips of hers locked onto his. However, he could sense that this wasn’t the time for it.

Peeta held out his arms, breaking the tension. “Get in here.”

Katniss laughed but stepped into his space before wrapping her arms around his neck. His arms encircled her waist, enclosing them in a full embrace.

He pressed his nose into her hair, taking a deep breath and letting the notes of her shampoo play against his nostrils. She smelled slightly sweet but there another note…a light musk that was almost familiar.

“Have dinner with me,” he whispered, dipping his lips against the curve of her neck.

Katniss shivered, her body pressing closer against him. “When?”

“Whenever you’re free.” Peeta pulled away to look into her eyes. “I know you’re busy, so I’ll take anytime I can.”

“I work the rest of the week and I’m helping Prim with some scholarship applications tomorrow,” she said. “But I’m free tomorrow night.”

“How about I cook us dinner?” he suggested. “I promise I’m better than Madge with recipes.”

Katniss nodded. “Tomorrow night.”

“I’ll knock around six.” Before Peeta could stop himself, he pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. However, his lips met the space just next to her ear and he hardened smelling the faint perfume near her pulse point. “Looking forward to it.”

Katniss stepped back, smoky eyes round, and pressed herself back against her door.

There was a heat there, an undeniable hunger. He was a second away from launching himself at her. Judging by the knuckle-whitening grip on her doorknob so was Katniss.

“I should go,” she squeaked before turning away and unlocking her door.

With one last smile, Katniss disappeared into her apartment.

Peeta fumbled with his keys, hurriedly opening his door and walking into his own place. He immediately went to his bedroom and towards his dresser. Pulling the top drawer open, his hands grasped for the latest pair from his seller—a hunter green pair with white lace at the waist.

He brought his nose to them, inhaling the musk, and letting his arousal rise. He was already hard from being with Katniss but combined with this feminine scent—it was almost too much. The scent was heady, still sweet, and familiar, so much that he could almost imagine that it was Katniss’ panties he was sniffing.

His climax came unexpectedly, and he doubled over, gripping at the top of his dresser as it rushed through his body.

“Katniss!”

Shit—this had never happened. Not so quickly anyway.

However, the image of this pair on Katniss’ full hips had swept into his mind and paired with the look of want in her smoky eyes had pulled him over the edge.

Peeta let out a gasp, letting himself breathe fully. Placing the pair back in his top drawer, he walked over to his bed, sitting at the end of it and rested his head in his hands.

He knew that fetishes were normal, but he worried what Katniss would think.

Because despite knowing her for the short time, Peeta really liked her. He was well on his way to falling for her.

Peeta couldn’t pinpoint when this all started. He had a healthy sexual life despite this one thing. His first sexual experience had been with high school girlfriend, Audrey, and Peeta had enjoyed it. He loved pressing his mouth to the cloth of her Victoria’s Secret panties, smelling her arousal through the cotton, and tasting as it soaked through.

Audrey had been his first, and throughout their senior year, his constant source for sexual satisfaction. They parted ways amicably, even hooking up during this first Spring Break. After, there were encounters, each time helping him gain more experience. However, Peeta noticed his preference for the feminine scent during his second year of college.

One of his hook-ups had left a pair of panties in his room, and upon them, he curiously sniffed. It had stirred something in him, and Peeta found himself hiding them away to occasionally smell whenever the need arose.

Delly had been the first woman who he had revealed his fetish to, and she had been surprisingly supportive. However, she wasn’t particularly aroused by the thought. Delly indulged him, allowing him to openly sniff pairs of her panties and even giving him one that she had worn right after a vigorous shag they had.

However, it had not been true love and they separated after six months together. Delly had recently married, and he was happy for her. However, it made him wonder if there would be anyone else who would be as accepting as she had been.

Because Peeta wanted to get married, he wanted a life like Gale and Madge, like Delly and her husband, Thom. He wanted a partner in life and in love.

And Peeta thought that maybe, just maybe, Katniss might be it.

++++++

Katniss let out a nervous breath, waiting for Peeta’s knock.

It had been more than a week since she had seen the man. Their first planned date had been unexpectedly cancelled when Prim had come down with the flu and Katniss had caught it. Peeta had been understanding, even leaving some takeout chicken soup at their doorstep and some Theraflu.

Her admin job had allowed her to work from home while she recovered. However, she lost out on her shifts at the store, but had supplemented it with her other…job.

She was surprised at the amount of money that her used panties had gotten. She had paid off almost all of Prim’s leftover debt from her four-year school. Her latest pair would be making up for the lost income from her week of being sick.

Katniss’ curiosity had been piqued by the panty fetish. She had never really thought about the feminine scent and how it was something that people might be into. Then, the night that she was with Peeta, she walked into her bedroom, her body stimulated by his lips against her skin.

Katniss peeled off the obviously soaked pair, a simple white cotton with pink bow, and brought them to her nose.

She was surprised how turned on she was by it. The scent of her was heightened by her arousal of Peeta’s touch. It was quickly followed by the worry of what he might think if he found out that she liked her own scent…more than liked.

That night, Katniss came on her fingers at the thought of kissing Peeta with her taste on both their lips.

The knock on the front door broke her from her reverie and she rushed over to it, pulling it open to be greeted by Peeta’s handsome face.

“Hi,” she greeted nervously.

“You ready?” Katniss nodded, stepping out into the hall and closing the door behind her. Peeta took her hand, giving it a squeeze. “I’m really glad we’re getting to do this. I missed you this week.”

“You did?” Her words came out in a squeak.

Peeta grinned as he led her into his apartment, closing the door behind her.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, tilting her chin up to meet his eyes. “I did.”

Katniss smiled at his words, her heart racing and her center pulsating at the nearness of him.

“Can we just get the kiss the out of the way? I mean, it would have already happened if I hadn’t gotten the flu and I’ve just been waiting for it this whole week—”

She was immediately cut off as Peeta covered her mouth with his. He cupped the back of her head, guiding her as his lips pillowed between her bottom lip, sucking slow as he drew out. She hissed at the contact and gulped in a breath, allowing him to engulf her mouth. His tongue swept it, tasting ravenously, and drawing her own into a sensual dance.

Katniss felt lightheaded, aware of everything and nothing as their hands wandered. She grinded her core to his and Peeta growled, biting at her lower lip and roughly grabbing her ass.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned into her mouth. “That was one hell of a first kiss.”

She snorted, her body thrumming. “I totally agree.”

“We should have dinner first.” Peeta led her to the round table by the kitchen and pulled out her chair for her. She sat down and he leaned down to press a kiss into her neck. “Probably won’t taste as good as you though.”

Katniss grinned. “Cheesy, but I’m into that.”

Peeta had made a light salad, spaghetti Bolognese, and a baguette to dip their sauce in. She was surprised to learn during their light conversation that he made the bread himself. His family owned a small bakery, and his parents still worked there occasionally.

“My eldest brother, Bran, runs it with his wife,” he explained. “My other brother does the marketing.”

“And you?”

“Since I’m the graphic designer of the family, I design all the logos and signage,” he told her. Peeta unlocked his phone and showed her his latest project for the bakery—an updated menu for the autumn season. “I’ve added a few more items like the apple cider donuts and changed up the design to give it a warmer feel. I want to feel like you’re at home, so I made it looked like a chalkboard.”

“That’s great,” she told him. “It’s nice to do something you love and be able to help your family in the process.”

Dessert was tiramisu—made by Peeta, as well—and it was delicious. It was obvious that beside his artistic skills in graphics, he had culinary skills. While they ate, Katniss told him about her life, other than work. She talked about her happy childhood with her parents—high school sweethearts—and Prim. How it all changed when she received a call during her first year in college that altered her, and Prim’s lives forever.

“You’ve been through a lot,” Peeta remarked softly. “And I can tell that you’re the kind of person who takes care of others, never thinking about herself in the process.”

“You just have to do what you have to do,” she reasoned.

“Who takes care of you?”

“I don’t need anyone,” Katniss told him simply.

Peeta stood, helping her from her chair, and leading her to his couch. She sank back against the plush cushions, feeling herself relax. He had decorated the place with simple warm touches, a dark wood coffee table and comfortable furniture. Peeta handed her a throw and Katniss took it gratefully.

He started a fire in his brick fireplace before joining her and she spread the blanket between them. They lapse into comfortable silence, staring at the flames. Katniss relaxed in the warmth of the man beside her.

“This should feel weird, should it?” Katniss turned to meet his gaze and her breath caught at the intensity in his blues. "Just being so comfortable with each other in such a short time?”

“Sometimes, things just work.” Peeta dipped his mouth into hers. “We work.”

Their lips brushed languidly, and Katniss felt the ache between her thighs. “More.”

Peeta indulged her, his hand weaving into her hair before plunging his tongue into her mouth. Katniss moaned, the heat rising as their kiss deepened and she tasted the tiramisu on his lips. Her hands explored, running along his shoulders then down to his chest.

He growled, grabbing her hips to help her straddle his lap. There, Katniss felt his erection pressing against her core and she thrust, desperate for me.

“Fuck—” Peeta ripped his mouth away, his hands playing against her blouse. Slowly, he unbuttoned her, stopping just enough to reveal the black mesh bra she wore. His hand reached, pulling back the cloth to expose her tits. They bounced, nipples perked and at mouth level for him. Gently, Peeta cupped one, running the pad of his thumb along her nipple. “—you’re so beautiful.”

“I want you,” Katniss panted. Boldly, she unbuttoned his pants and reached under the band of briefs to wrap her hand around him. She pumped him slowly and Peeta trembled, his mouth falling as he gasped out his pleasure.

“I want you, too,” he breathed out. “But, not just for the night.” His eyes gazed into her. “I want more for us…does that scare you?”

Katniss stilled at his words, her eyes filling as she wondered how she had gotten so lucky.

“No,” she replied softly. “Not one bit.”

Peeta smiled, kissing her once more. “Hold on.” He stood and she wrapped her legs around his waist. “I’m going to take you to my bedroom. Is that alright?”

She smiled. “It’s a given.”

It felt like an eternity getting to his room. However, it was possibly due to them stopping to kiss between the trip. As Peeta walked them towards the doorway, her mouth pressed to his neck, tasting his sweat, and her core tighten at the taste.

His bedroom was like the rest of house, warm and inviting. His king-sized bed was covered with a dark green comforter, taupe pillowcases accenting the dark motif. The lighting was soft and romantic and as Katniss slid off him, she toed off her shoes, feeling the soft carpet beneath.

Peeta wrapped his arms around her waist, hands spread across her stomach.

“Are you wet for me?”

He undid the button of her jeans and pulled the zipper down. Katniss pressed back, feeling his erection in the cleft of her ass. Her panties, a simple striped bikini, revealed themselves and Peeta reached underneath the band to cup her quim in the palm of his hand.

“Oh gorgeous, you’re soaked.” His fingers dipped along her entrance and her stomach twisted, causing her knees to go weak. Peeta grounded his palm into clit and her arm wound itself around his neck to steady herself. “Tell me what you need.”

“I…ohh…” His other hand palmed at her tits. “I need…your mouth on me.”

“Where?” Peeta sucked at her earlobe, and she sobbed, her back arching at the stimulation. “Your lips, you neck—”

“My cunt!” she cried. “I want to taste myself on your mouth!”

His hands went to her jeans, grabbing and yanking, and tossing them away before she could even realize. Peeta fell to his knees in front of her, his mouth latching onto her clit through the soak cloth of her panties. He moaned hungrily and the vibration traveled through her body, and she reached for anything to steady her. Her hand found purchase against the dresser, and she held on as Peeta tore off her panties.

His eyes met hers. “You’re beautiful.”

He kissed between her thighs, his tongue licking the slick that coated her skin. His mouth kissed at her pussy tenderly, reverent almost, until he found her bud, now free from cloth and latched on to suck.

Her climax overcame her, and Katniss clutched at drawer by her hand. Her body arched, pushing her cunt full onto Peeta’s eager mouth as she snapped.

“Oh—Peeta!”

There was a sudden crash and her world tipped as Katniss tumbled onto Peeta.

She laughed, kissing Peeta, and tasting herself on his lips. The heady scent was intoxicating, and Katniss pushed his pants off his hips, mind clouded with lust.

“I need you,” Peeta said, shifting so he was atop. His cock, thick with arousal, made her mouth water and she watched as he gripped himself to line himself up to her center.

Then, in one smooth thrust, Peeta was inside her.

“Fuck, you feel so amazing around me.” They began to move in sync, her hips meeting his with each plunge of his cock. Her eyes never left his, feeling the elation of her orgasm and the overwhelming affection for the man in front of her. “I know I shouldn’t be saying this right now, but I’m falling for you.”

Katniss felt it once more, the familiar tightening of another climax approaching. She knew Peeta felt the grip of her on his cock as he began to move hurriedly, eager to come with her.

“I’m coming…I’m coming….”

Another whimper tumbled her mouth, and her vision went white. Katniss fell apart, taking him with her. She heard Peeta’s cries and the warmth as he filled her.

After, they laid together on the carpet of his bedroom, both breathless.

“I did not expect that,” Peeta said, meeting her eyes. “Do you need anything?”

“A glass of water and a napkin.” Katniss reached, suddenly making contact with a cloth. “What is this?”

It was a pair of panties. Orange with lace trim.

These were hers.

She sat up and turned to him. “Why do you have these?”

Peeta shot up. “I can explain—”

“Why do you have my panties?”

His eyes widened in shock. “Your panties?”

“Yes, I sold these to pay off Prim’s debt! Why do you have them?”

Peeta took a breath. “I bought them.”

“Oh,” she said in quiet shock. “You like to—”

“The scent,” he explained. “Yours, in particular, as I bought every pair that you posted.”

“Okay.” Katniss placed her hands on her lap. “Do you do this a lot?”

“I’ve had pairs from girlfriends. Yours are the only ones that I’ve actually bought online,” Peeta told her. “I know how this looks—”

“I think that I need to go home.”

Katniss rose, gathering her clothes, and pulling them on quickly.

Peeta followed as she rushed towards the front door. “Katniss, please…”

“I just need to process this. Okay?”

Katniss saw the hurt in his eyes, but her own thoughts were so jumbled.

Peeta nodded, resigned as he opened the door for her. “Okay.”

Without another word, she turned and walked towards her apartment.

It was until Katniss changed for the night that she realized that she left her panties at his place.

++++++

It had been a week.

Peeta stared at the pair that he placed in his dresser. Katniss had left them that night, so in a rush to escape his depravity. Honestly, he never thought of what he was doing as wrong until he saw the look on her face.

The confusion, the sudden realization that the man she had just made love to own such an intimate piece of clothing of hers.

Peeta did his best to respect her privacy, but it was killing him. He missed her. Everything felt hollow and nothing seem as bright without her around.

He closed his account on the website, finding that she was no longer selling as well.

It didn’t matter anymore anyway.

This fetish of his was no more; it stopped the moment he smelled her scent.

Katniss was the only thing he wanted.

Placing the taped bag with her panties on the doorway, Peeta knocked before stepping into his apartment and closing the door behind him.

++++++

Peeta trudged up towards the hallway; it had been a long day for him. However, it seemed that all his day seemed longer without Katniss.

He was expected at Gale and Madge in an hour and something sharp hit him knowing that they would ask about Katniss. How could he explain that Katniss had broken things off thanks to his little fetish? This part of his life he kept firmly a secret from his best friends.

“You look like you’ve had a bad day.”

Peeta looked up, finding Katniss at his doorstep.

He offered her a weak smile.

“A bad week and a half, really. Katniss—”

“I like the smell of myself,” she said suddenly. “And I liked when your frenched kissed my pussy.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I know one of your kinks. So, you should know some of mine.” Katniss stepped towards him carefully. “That’s what people who care about each other do, right? Learn what they like and don’t like in all aspects of each other’s lives.”

“I want to know everything about you,” Peeta told her. “Not just what turns you on. I want to know what side of the bed you sleep on, what your favorite food is, who was you first kiss—”

“Left, curly fries, and a boy named Cato from summer camp,” Katniss replied, tears in her eyes. “I am falling for you, Peeta, but I think we need to know a little more about one another before love comes into play.”

Peeta took her hand. “Is that even on the table?”

She nodded, the tears hitting her cheeks. “Definitely.”

It was enough.

Peeta pulled her into his arms. “I missed you so much.”

Katniss sniffled. “Me, too.” They pulled apart and she smiled. “Can we start again?”

He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “Always.”

She sighed contently against his mouth. “There is one thing.”

“What?”

Katniss wrapped her arms around him.

“The only panties you can have are mine.”

“Deal.”

They sealed it with a kiss.

FIN.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #tw: panty sniffing #rated e #request

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thgfanfictionlibrary · 5 months ago

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Mature Rated Fics Masterlist (36)

Part 1-Part 25 / Part 26 / Part 27 / Part 28 / Part 29 / Part 30 / Part 31 / Part 32 / Part 33 / Part 34 / Part 35 /

Created: March 14th, 2024

Last Checked:------

My Silent Tears-HGfanonezillion (ao3) Summary: Post-Mockingjay. Finnick wakes up in the hospital. He doesn't remember how he got there. The pretty woman standing over him claims to be his wife, but he doesn't remember getting married. He remembers their fathers worked together and that they used to work with them during school breaks, but how did she go from that little girl to someone he obviously loved? Nap time-angylinni (ao3) Summary: Katniss and Peeta find naptime to be conducive to having some much needed couple time Naughty or Nice-Daydreamsandcaffeine (ao3) Summary: Peeta lost a bet, so now he has a temporary new holiday uniform. Katniss reaps the benefits. A holiday modern AU Never-AnotherSongAnotherMile (ao3) Summary: There's a lot of things Katniss Everdeen never imagined would happen in her lifetime, her last good-bye to Gale Hawthorne being one of them. Nom de Plume-Abagail_Snow (ao3) Summary: Katniss Everdeen loves the pairing of Finnick Odair and Annie Cresta more than anything, and that's starting to become a problem. Based on the book Fangirl. On a Sunday-ashyblondwaves (ao3) Summary: Another post-epilogue piece. A Sunday with The Mellark Family. It's nothing special, just a little glimpse on what I think it could be like for them on a good day. One by One-Court81981 (ff.net) Summary: Modern AU: It's been six years since Katniss Everdeen fled Panem Island after the brutal murder of her mother. The wedding of her best friend, Gale Hawthorne, forces her back home to face the past, including the man she left behind. But when the guests start dying one by one, she realizes the killer has also returned to finish what he/she started. One Day, One Hundred Years-bathsheba78 (ao3) Summary: Written for Day 2 of Prompts in Panem: Other Worlds. Every one hundred years, Death spends one day mortal. On this day, she meets one very special--and familiar--young man. One Panem-Alliswell (ao3) Summary: Based on the Prompt: “How about this: Peeta, a capiltolite, is made to marry Katniss, a girl from 12’s Seam, as part of the ‘One Panem’ initiative.” On Thin Ice-Court81981 (ff.net) Summary: Panem AU; After years of training, Katniss Everdeen thinks she's achieved her lifelong dream of representing Panem at the World Games. President Snow has other plans—plans that involve hockey player Peeta Mellark. An Everlark-spin on The Cutting Edge in three parts.

#m #mature masterlist #masterlist #thg #thg fanfiction #everlark fanfiction #everlark

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thegirlonpeetamellark · 4 years ago

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Christmas Break - Part 1

Surprise!! After a looong time away Court returns to Everlark fic world with a little holiday treat for everyone - enjoy! :)

Hi everyone. So 2020 has sucked. For me, the beginning of quarantine was actually a bit of a gift. Being home gave me the gift of time, something I haven’t had much of as my daughters (who were very little when I started writing in this fandom) have gotten older. While I never stopped writing, it was a struggle to find long enough chunks of time to get into a flow. I started writing again with earnest. Not all of it was my fanfiction; some of it was my original work. El keeps me posted on the humbling and kind asks she gets about my writing. I felt bad that despite my increased writing, I still wasn’t ready to update any WIPs. But I did remember a story I had started for the final holiday PiP that I was never able to get past the first page (due to lack of time that year) and to my surprise, it started flowing. I had every intention of finishing it and having El post it as a gift to this fandom. But once my school went “back” in October and hybrid learning started, that was it. My time was gone. And further, my family experienced the very sudden and non-Covid-related death of my aunt. So while I have nearly half of this story written, it’s not done. But it will be, very soon, since it is a one-shot. As with all my stories, it took on a life of its own and it needs more love. So what I have for the readers who have loyally followed me is the first part, the part that involves Christmas. It’s my hope to have a second part posted in a week or two, so that by the time that part posts, a final part is nearly done.

Thank you for your asks and your patience, and thank you to El, one of my favorite people in this world and the best thing my time in this fandom has given me. Thank you for your encouragement. Our friendship means the world to me.

Here’s to a better 2021. Love to you all. Court

Christmas Break

Fuck, not again, Peeta grouses as the opening notes of that insidious Mariah Carey song pipe through the loudspeaker. That’s the third time in the last two hours. He’s all for holiday spirit, but if he never hears this fucking song again it will be too soon.

Leaning his forehead against the cold pane of glass, he peers out of the fourth-story window into the darkened sky. When he had arrived at work a few hours ago, the snow had just been starting to fall; a slow, lazy tumble of flakes. Now it’s coming down in a tumultuous swirl. It figures Panem would finally see a white Christmas his first Christmas Eve on rotation in the emergency room. No doubt the weather is partially to blame for the crush of bodies crowding the waiting room tonight.

Peeta walks away from the window and opens the cabinet where he stashes his Clif bars. The economy-sized box looks suspiciously closer to empty than it did the other day. He’s heard complaints from other doctors and nurses that snacks are pilfered on a regular basis and was warned to label his own boxes. But he had forgone the warnings. If someone needed an energy bar badly enough to steal one, what was the $20 he had spent on them at Costco. He snags one and unwraps it.

He’s just raised it to his mouth when his Apple watch pings and his silenced cell phone pulses insistently against his thigh. Heaving a loud sigh, he sets down the energy bar and withdraws the phone from his pocket.

“Mom, you’ve got exactly 60 seconds,” he grits out. He doesn’t even need to look at the screen to confirm it’s her. She’s called twice already tonight, calls he’s ignored with good reason, but somehow his mother thinks a phone call from her trumps any actual emergencies her doctor son could be dealing with. Which, tonight, have been nonstop since his shift began at six.

“Please tell me you ate something,” she begins.

“I was just about to, when you called,” he replies. “I’ve only got a couple of minutes. It’s been utter chaos for the last four hours.”

“We missed you at dinner. I can’t remember the last Christmas Eve when I didn’t have all three of my boys together.” Peeta closes his eyes. All these years my mother has been gushing about having a doctor in the family, and yet she never stopped to consider the ramifications of actually having a doctor in the family, he thinks. Particularly its impact on holiday gatherings. She obviously hadn’t learned anything from this past Thanksgiving, as now, just a month later, she’s already dumping a fresh guilt trip on him for missing another family dinner.

She continues, “And Jackson and Maxwell were just devastated when they heard you weren’t coming, until I assured them they’d see you tomorrow. We will see you tomorrow, yes?”

Peeta suppresses another exasperated sigh and breaks off a chunk of the Clif bar. “Yes, Mom, I’ll be there.” And though it’s childish, he crams the bar into his mouth and mumbles around it, “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” His chewing masks the sarcasm that weighs down the words.

“Excellent. We need an updated family portrait before Everly and Rye have to leave for her parents’ house.” Placated, his mother moves to ends the call, but not before getting in a less-than-subtle comment about how much she adores his brother Rye’s fiancée and how happy she is Rye is settling down.

Staring at the disconnected call flashing on the screen, Peeta tries not to let the remark get to him. Mostly because he knows it’s a lie. His mother has complained more than once about Everly and how she’s not good enough for Rye. Peeta knows the dig was directed at him. He hasn’t truly had a serious girlfriend since junior year of college; just a few casual relationships that barely qualified as relationships. He doesn’t know how his mother expects him to meet someone with the hours he keeps. And his father, for as close as they are, never seems willing to jump to Peeta’s defense.

Taking a deep breath to let his irritation suffuse, he jams his phone back in his pocket and scarfs down the rest of his pathetic dinner. All three bites of it. Then he uses the restroom, dutifully washes his hand, and stalks out of the staff lounge, his short break over.

As he strides up the corridor, he hears loud shouting coming from the ER waiting room.

“…should be asleep in her bed, waiting for Santa Claus to come, but instead, we’re still here waiting for someone to take a look at her arm! It’s been over two hours! Don’t you people have any compassion? Or is Ebenezer Freaking Scrooge running this place tonight?”

Curious, Peeta veers towards the reception desk, where his eyes land on the ranting woman. She’s young, probably no older than her mid-twenties, and in spite of the fact that her dark hair is spilling out of a messy braid and she’s not wearing any makeup, Peeta is immediately struck by her beauty. The rosy flush to her cheeks from her tirade actually makes her even prettier. She’s cradling a toddler and protectively shielding the little girl’s right arm. The toddler’s blonde head rests on her mother’s shoulder, her thumb wedged into her tiny pink mouth. Her left arm clutches a stuffed orange cat. She looks tired. Actually, both mother and daughter do.

“Miss, I understand your frustration, I really do,” the receptionist says calmly, her eyes cutting to Peeta as he stops by her side. He reads the name on the file on top of the stack, the next patient scheduled to be seen: MCMURPHY, JOSEPH. Clearly not the little girl in front of him.

“I don’t think you do!” the young mother cries, her eyes flashing steel. “She’s three, she’s in pain, and she’s scared. And what’s more, I’ve seen at least five people go ahead of us who came in after us!”

“That’s not how the emergency room works, miss,” the receptionist replies. She drums her fingertips on the desk, offering the young mother a tight smile.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” the young mother adds, an edge of desperation creeping into her tone. Discreetly, Peeta moves around the receptionist’s chair, scanning the desktop until he spies the stack of files for the patients awaiting admission. While the receptionist continues to give the young mother the run-around, he thumbs through the stack, searching. His eyes land on what he’s looking for: a date of birth. His lips tip up. Bingo. This has to be it: HAWTHORNE, IVY ANN.

At the exact second his hand snatches Ivy’s file from the pile and slips the other one in amongst the stack, the young mother’s eyes lock on his. Her gaze narrows. He can see the exhaustion all over her beautiful face. Her full lips twitch, her countenance suspicious as they stare at one another.

“Ivy Hawthorne?” Peeta taps the file he had extricated. An immediate flicker of relief lights the young mother’s mercury eyes, and that lush mouth breaks into a grateful, relieved smile. The receptionist’s neck snaps up. “I’ve got this,” he adds, his tone leaving no room for her to argue with him. It’s not protocol for Peeta to take a patient directly, but it’s also not blatantly against the rules. Sure, it might mean a little more work for him, but if it means he can get this little girl home sooner on Christmas Eve, it’s worth it.

He smiles at the little girl. “Ivy, I’m Doctor Mellark. I’m going to help make you feel better, okay?” She nods once but doesn’t lift her head from her mother’s shoulder. Peeta’s arm sweeps to the side, ushering the young mother and Ivy past the desk. He scans the hallway and spies a partially drawn curtain halfway up the corridor. He leads them to the available partition and close the curtain behind them. As he turns to face them, he nearly slams into the woman. She hasn’t moved, and her luminous grey eyes fasten to his. She looks as if she’s going to say something, but several seconds pass and she’s still quiet, still watching him. The silence starts to become uncomfortable. Peeta clears his throat.

“If you’d have a seat, please, Mrs. Hawthorne. You can hold her while I get some more information from you.”

The young woman’s lips part slightly, again appearing as if she wants to say something, but instead she shuffles forward and Peeta waits while she settles on the edge of the hospital bed, gingerly adjusting Ivy so she’s sitting sideways across her mother’s lap.

Peeta sinks down onto the stool and scoots towards the edge of the bed. This close he has a much better look at Ivy’s mother. She really is a beautiful young woman, and given how adorable Ivy is Peeta assumes her husband is probably also very attractive. He feels a twinge of jealousy. Lucky bastard. Pretty wife, cute kid…probably has a nice little house and a golden retriever too. Living the dream. His dream, if he allows himself to admit it to anyone but his mother. If he was being perfectly honest, he had always envisioned himself married by now.

“How old are you, Ivy?” he ask, even though he knows from her chart and her mother’s declaration that she’s three years old. She hesitates, and still clutching the stuffed cat, manages to display three fingers. Peeta smiles at her again.

“I have a nephew who is the exact same age as you are. He told me just last week that he’s a big boy now. Are you a big girl, Ivy?” He keeps his tone gentle, hoping it will put her at ease with him. She nods, her big blue eyes lightening imperceptibly. “I thought so. Can you be a big girl and tell me what happened to your arm?”

Her mother answers automatically, “She fell. I was only gone—” Peeta holds up his palm. He has the triage nurse’s initial assessment, so he knows Ivy’s arm is likely broken. What he doesn’t know is how the arm got broken. And those details he needs to try to get from Ivy herself. Kids her age always tell the truth when it comes to how they were injured, and unfortunately it’s part of Peeta’s job to make sure there isn’t a more sinister reason she’s in the E.R. tonight, no matter how sweet and innocent her mother appears. He’s already had a few encounters with suspected child abuse, though his gut tells him that isn’t the case with Ivy Hawthorne.

“Please. I would like Ivy to tell me how it happened.”

Something dangerous flints in Ivy’s mother’s now stormy grey eyes.

“She. Fell.” The words are curt, enunciated coolly, but her voice is soft and Peeta can tell she’s keeping her temper in check for the benefit of her daughter. Eyes still pinned to his, she inhales deeply. A second later, her shoulders relax. “Go ahead and tell the nice doctor how you hurt your arm,” she whispers, stroking Ivy’s curls.

“I was trying to see Santa,” Ivy replies, her tongue tripping in a lisp on the “S’s.”

“What do you mean by that?” he prompts her.

Ivy scrunches up her button nose. “I was trying to see up the chimney. ‘Cause the chimney at Aunt Katniss’s house is so skinny and Santa Claus is real fat and I don’t know how he’s gonna fit down it to bring me my presents!” Her blue eyes brim with tears and her lower lip starts to tremble. Peeta reaches over and pats her knee.

“I wouldn’t worry about that, sweetheart. Santa Claus is magic. He’ll get you your presents, no matter what the chimney looks like.” He exchanges a look with her mother.

“It was all my fault,” she says quietly. “I went in the kitchen, to get the cookies and milk—”

“And the carrots! For Rudolph and the other reindeer!” Ivy chimes in, her eyes shiny wet.

“I never should have left her alone, not even for a second. This is my fault. It’s my fault. She wouldn’t have slipped and fallen off the hearth if I had been watching her.” Guilt chokes her words, and it sounds as if she’s close to tears.

“Accidents happen, Mrs. Hawthorne,” Peeta says empathetically, “that’s why there are emergency rooms.” She presses her lips together, her brows knitting.

“It’s Everdeen,” she says quietly. Peeta drops his eyes to Ivy’s chart, and furrows his brows, his gaze wandering to the young woman’s left hand. No ring. A brief thrill curls through him at the thought that she’s single. Asshole, he immediately chides himself. So not what you should be thinking about right now. He scans the chart more carefully and shakes his head.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, “but this lists Primrose Hawthorne as the mother, under the Parent/Guardian information, and a Rory Hawthorne as the father. I just assumed—”

She cuts him off. “Primrose Hawthorne was her mother. But I’m not Primrose Hawthorne. I’m Katniss. Katniss Everdeen. I’m her aunt. I should be listed as her primary emergency contact.” She swallows and squeezes her eyes shut briefly. When she opens them, they plead with his. Peeta glances down at Ivy, and then raises his eyes to Katniss again. The guilt that was clouding those silver irises a moment ago has dissipated, replaced with anguish. He doesn’t know what the full story is here, but he didn’t miss Katniss’s usage of the past tense in referring to Ivy’s mother. So he honors her silent appeal not to ask questions.

“Okay, Ivy, you fell, and you landed on your arm? I bet that hurt,” Peeta says to the little girl, but his gaze stays fastens on Katniss. She gives him the faintest smile and mouths, “Thank you.”

~*~*~*~

An hour later, the orthopedist informs Peeta that Ivy Hawthorne is ready for his approval to be discharged. Not wanting to keep her and her aunt waiting any later than necessary, he sets down the X-ray he had been studying, and heads back to where Ivy is.

Standing outside the curtain, he hears quiet singing. He draws back the curtain and sees Katniss seated on the bed, with Ivy nestled in her lap. A bright pink cast safely cocoons the girl’s arm. Her blonde head rests on Katniss’s shoulder. Her eyes are closed, and her little body rises and falls with the deep breathing of sleep.

Katniss continues to sing, unaware of Peeta’s presence. He doesn’t recognize the tune she’s singing. It’s not a Christmas carol, at least not one he’s ever heard before, but he continues to listen, captivated by her voice. It’s soft and decidedly feminine, but there’s raspy undercurrent to it that gives him chills. It’s like the first sip of a rich, smoky bourbon.

Gingerly, he tiptoes towards the bed and stands before her for several more minutes, until Katniss finally lifts her eyes. She immediately stops singing. Peeta smiles and nods towards Ivy.

“Someone is worn out,” he whispers. Katniss’s lips twitch into a chagrinned smile.

“I’m sure the second we get home she’ll be wide awake and it’ll take forever to get her into bed. She was already amped up about Santa Claus before this.” She tips her head and gestures with her chin towards Ivy’s arm.

“Warm milk. With a little bit of cinnamon,” he suggests.

“Really?” Her eyes round. “Cinnamon? That really works?” Disbelief clouds her words. He shrugs sheepishly.

“I have no idea. No kids. And I’ve never had much trouble sleeping. I’m usually asleep the minute my head hits the pillow. But I’ve heard from a friend with a toddler that it does the trick.” He waits for her to say something—anything—in response, but she doesn’t. Her gaze is back on the sleeping toddler in her arms.

Watching her stare tenderly at her niece causes something unexpected to claw at Peeta’s chest and he’s overwhelmed by a fierce compulsion to want to keep her here, to get to know more about her. It’s been a long time since he felt this kind of instant attraction to a woman. Why couldn’t he have met her under different circumstances?

“Are we all done, doctor?”

Peeta startles from his thoughts and offers Katniss an apologetic smile.

“Yes, sorry. You are good to go as soon as you sign here—” He holds the clipboard at an angle, to allow her to sign without having to disturb Ivy, “and here.” He flips the sheet back to the second page and she scrawls her name across the line there, too. Normally a nurse would go over discharge papers and protocol with patients, but Peeta had taken it upon himself to grab Ivy’s. He needed to spend every possible minute in Katniss’s presence.

Once the release forms are complete, he review the plan for Ivy’s follow-up care, including how to manage any pain she has and when she’ll need to return to have the cast removed. Katniss listens attentively.

When he’s finished, she stands up slowly, her movements tentative so as not to jostle Ivy. A sigh parts the little girl’s lips and she stirs, but she remains asleep. God, she’s cute, Peeta thinks.

“Thank you, Dr. Mellark,” Katniss says softly. “For everything. I know what you did…” She falters. “I mean, I know we, ah, weren’t next, and ah…” Peeta waves a hand dismissively, sensing her discomfort with his hijacking of the queued patients.

“It was my pleasure,” he replies. “Little girls should be home on Christmas Eve. Waiting for Santa.” He echoes Katniss’s earlier words. “I hope he’s good to her.”

He doesn’t miss the forlorn expression that flits across Katniss’s face as she glances down at her sleeping niece.

“He can’t bring her what she wants most, but he’ll try,” she murmurs and moves towards the open curtain. Just before she steps out into the hall, she pauses and turns to face Peeta.

“Merry Christmas,” she adds.

“Merry Christmas,” he concurs. With a faint smile, she steps around the curtain. It rustles in her wake and resettles. Peeta exhales and slumps against the wall, regret washing through him, followed by a stronger wave of sadness at seeing Katniss go. If it hadn’t been for Ivy, he might have concocted some kind of delay to keep Katniss here longer, found some excuse to pry more information out of her. Like if she’s single. A surge of adrenaline spikes in his blood. He can’t let her go this easily.

He bolts out into the corridor, scanning the bustling hallway for any sign of Katniss and Ivy, but they’ve vanished. Disappointed, his shoulders slump as he trudges towards the nurses’ station to hand off Ivy’s file.

It’s probably best, a nagging little voice inside him taunts, and he reluctantly concedes that it probably is. As much as he’d love to finally shut his mother up and find a woman that he’d want to spend more than a night with, it’s not fair to subject one to the kind of schedule he has to keep. New doctors are low-man-on-the-totem-pole. He’s had mostly graveyard shifts and he’s often on call. It’s his dream to have a pediatric practice, but he’s well aware that he’ll have to toil for a couple of years to get on track to make that dream a reality.

A few minutes later, en route to his next examination, Peeta spies Johanna, one of the triage nurses, coming out of the room Ivy had occupied. His eyes immediately narrow when his gaze lands on her left arm.

“Was that in there?” He motions towards the vacated room and then nods towards the stuffed cat Johanna has wedged under her armpit.

“What, the cat? Yeah. It must have fallen under the bed. I’ll take it to the station, in case someone comes back to claim it.”

Ivy’s cherubic little face flashes in Peeta’s mind. He remember how fiercely she had been clutching that cat, and how she had reluctantly agreed to put it down when it had been time for Delly, another one of the triage nurses, to take her for X-rays.

Peeta’s pulse quickens and he immediately thrusts his hand towards Johanna. “I’ll take it,” he says impulsively. She wrinkles her nose and cocks her head, her hazel eyes intensely scrutinizing him. Though they have a casual friendship, Johanna is far too insightful for her own good. Peeta doesn’t really need her questioning his motives for taking possession of the toy.

“The little girl it belongs to goes to preschool with Max. I’ll make sure he takes it to her after the holiday break.” Fuck, that lie flew off his tongue so easily he almost believes it himself. Johanna shrugs and tosses Peeta the cat.

“Suit yourself. One less thing to overflow the Lost and Found.” She strides past him and disappears into Triage 6. He stares down at the stuffed animal. His heart skips another beat and a slow smile tugs at his mouth.

~*~*~*~

Stifling another yawn, Peeta squints at the numbers above the garage. He’s definitely in the right place. He kills the engine and sits for a moment, glancing at the clock on the navigation system. It’s quarter after nine. Early, but not obscenely so. When his shift had ended at six am, he had driven home and fought the urge to crawl into bed; instead, he grabbed a quick shower and freshened up. True, part of him hadn’t wanted to see Katniss Everdeen again looking like the bedraggled, exhausted mess he was at the end of a rotation, and also true, he was going to have to clean up before he’s due at his parents’ house at one. But he also knew he couldn’t really have shown up at Katniss’s house at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning, even if he suspects Ivy likely had her up by then. He recalls, with a wistful smile, that Christmas morning was the one morning he and his brothers were always awake before his father. It was only a question of which Mellark brother was going to be the first to rouse the others. Him being the youngest, it was usually him, he admits with a wider grin.

He quietly exits his car, careful not to slam the door, and gingerly steps across the icy driveway. He pauses at the un-shoveled front walk, where a pristine blanket of snow blocks his path. “Shit,” he whispers, gritting his teeth as he takes the first step. His foot plunges into the deep drift, up to nearly his calf. He braces himself and takes a huge step, hoping to eat up the distance in a few long strides. Fortunately, it’s not a long front walk. He reaches the also un-shoveled front steps and carefully ascends them. He contemplates ringing the doorbell, but instead raps his knuckles against the door. His breath pipes out in white plumes and he rubs his palms together for warmth as he waits.

No one comes to the door, at least not immediately. Peeta lifts his fist again, but just before his knuckles can connect with the wood again, the front door opens a crack and he’s suddenly looking at Katniss. Those silver eyes round almost comically as recognition lights them.

“D-Doctor Mellark? Wh-what are you….”

“Hi. Merry Christmas,” he begins. “I thought Ivy would be missing this.” He smiles and holds up the stuffed cat.

Katniss stares at him, her lips parting faintly, and shock and confusion war on her pretty face. But then her grey eyes darken with what Peeta can only describe as restrained fury.

She opens the door fully and glares at him.

“You had Ivy’s cat?” she accuses.

“Uh…yeah…” he stammers, his own confusion welling. Why is she so angry? “My nephew…he has a bear. Otis. Can’t sleep without that thing. I thought if Ivy is anything like Max…well, she’d be missing this.” He holds the cat out to Katniss. She snatches it so violently that she stumbles backwards. Peeta is equally jarred, but his jolt is from the very brief brush of Katniss’s fingers against his when she had grabbed the toy.

But Katniss gives him no time to revel in the feeling.

“So this is why no one at the hospital had a goddamned clue what I was talking about when I called there looking for this cat an hour ago!” she spits.

Shit, Peeta thinks, an uneasy feeling clawing its way into his gut.

“Why the fuck—” He can’t help but notice her slight hesitation before she lobs the obscenity at him. “—would you take my niece’s cat? Is this something normal people do?” She’s shivering visibly as she rants, a clear consequence of stepping onto her front porch wearing nothing but green plaid pajama pants and a threadbare black Henley shirt.

“I….I…” He shakes his head. He’s not even sure how to defend his actions. He can’t very well tell her his ulterior motives in bringing the stuffed cat back to her niece. Not now. He definitely fucked this up.

“I was just trying to be nice. That I’d save you a trip on Christmas morning,” he finishes lamely.

Katniss’s nostrils flare and her jaw flexes. “Christmas morning,” she mutters, just barely audible over the clattering of her teeth. “Did it occur to you, Dr. Mellark, that I might be looking for Ivy’s cat and I might call the hospital looking for this cat?” She shakes the toy in his face. “And did it occur to you that, in spite of all the toys she had just opened, Ivy might be bawling and throwing a fit because Buttercup was missing?”

Buttercup, he has to assume, is the stuffed cat.

She pauses, as if waiting for him to defend himself, but all he can do is swallow against the lump crowding his throat.

So she continues, “They made me think I was crazy—but not until after they left me on hold for 20 minutes while I tried to calm a wailing toddler. And then they said there was no toy matching this description in the Lost and Found. And that’s because you had it!” Her eyes are a maelstrom now, but he notices that an edge of frustration has crept into her furious tone.

“And now Ivy doesn’t have it. So thank you. Thank you very much, Dr. Mellark. Merry Christmas.” And before Peeta can release the breath he’s been holding during her outburst and plead his case, she whirls around, her disheveled braid lancing through the air like a whip, and slams the door behind her. Stunned, Peeta can only stare at the wreath on the door as he processes what just happened.

What. The. Fuck.

Heart pounding, gut churning, Peeta retreats to his car. He takes a few minutes to absorb the shock of his encounter with Katniss, his mind reeling through the accusations she made. He never would have expected her to react like this. So much for any shot with Katniss Everdeen.

He finally gathers his composure and navigates out of her complex. As he drives, his mind continues replaying Katniss’s words over and over, and he finds one thing nags at him.

And now Ivy doesn’t have it.

Those words don’t make much sense to him. He just gave the stuffed animal back to Katniss. She can give it back to Ivy. She’ll have it now. In her wrath, Katniss just wasn’t being rational, he decides.

But her words continue to haunt him off and on for the rest of the day. Along with persistent images of Katniss that further torment him. She is never far from his conscious thoughts. As he sits down next to the fireplace in his parents’ house with a tumbler of scotch to exchange gifts with his brothers and his nephews, he finds himself wondering who Katniss is celebrating with. Ivy, obviously. But does she have other family?

By the time the Mellarks all settle around the table for dinner, he’s conjured up the notion that Katniss may not be married, but she surely has a devoted boyfriend who is showering her with gifts at this very moment. Her mood is infinitely better than what Peeta witnessed earlier. She’s probably dressed nice for him, and he’s sitting around her dining room table with Katniss and Ivy, like a makeshift family.

His mother’s irritation is palpable when she has to command his attention twice to try and draw him into the discussion centered on Rye’s upcoming wedding. Peeta murmurs the apology he knows she expects and feigns his dutiful brotherly interest for Rye’s benefit the remainder of the meal. But a dull ache has taken up residence in the center of his chest and he realizes just how badly he wants what his brothers have.

He just won’t be having it with Katniss Everdeen.

#everlark #the hunger games #everlark fanfiction #court81981

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neocity-sarai · 4 years ago

Text

NCT/ Hunger Games Crossover

☁ hunger games! au (assorted scenes: all films) reader x mark (as peeta mellark), reader x jaehyun (as gale hawthorne) , mentions of jungwoo (as primrose everdeen) and johnny (as finnick odair)

☁ alerts: angst, blood, violence, language, kissing, death

☁ song rec: i know places by taylor swift | exile by bon iver ft. taylor swift | carry you by ruelle ft. fleurie | the end of everything by noah cyrus

☁ this are choppy scenes that I found most encaptivating within the books/ films, make sure to go check out the series by Suzanne Collins! (for non-readers/ viewers, this might be hard to follow, so sorry!)

☁ thank you once again to @regularhuhhh for all the encouragement and inspo ily :)

+Scene 0: Introduction:

In the world you live in, Panem is a society that has been governed by the elitist families of the capitol and the district generals. Public disturbances are handled by peacekeepers- soldiers from the capitol sent by President Snow. There are 12 districts each known for mining, agriculture, and necessities that provide for the classes of those who sit on top of the caste system. Therefore, people in the lower districts didn’t have much. They survived on food scraps and flea market trades. Even so, every year, a boy and girl tribute would be selected to participate in the hunger games. A gruesome war game involving death, bloodshed, and violence all for the sake of entertainment for the elitists. It’s a cruel thing, to force children as young as 13 to compete in this killing game in order to please an audience of people they don’t belong in themselves. But that’s the order of President Snow. Everyone must do as he says, or death comes knocking on your door.

+Scene 1: INTERIOR. DARK CAVE -- NIGHT (74th HUNGER GAMES): “Stay”

Mark grunts back in pain, blood gushing from the wound that cuts the skin of his thigh. You help him scoot back to the wall of the cave, cutting away the loose fabric of his pants. His brows are scrunched in from the sting of his injury, hands fisting the dirt.

You grip your bow even tighter, snapping your dark eyes up at him, “Mark, I’m going out. You stay here, okay?”

Though he’s injured, Mark grabs hold of your arms, his grip tight, “No! You’re not going back out there!”

You freeze from Mark’s raised voice, eyes piercing the fire that burns an imprint into your soul. Then you shout, “You would do it for me! I’m not letting you die here.”

You take one good look at Mark. Mud is smeared all over his face, his black hair matted down on his forehead from his sweat and the humidity of the cave. Yet, his eyes still look warm. They remind you of the warm meadows back home, the view of the bright sun rising over district 12.

Mark’s eyes soften, his busted lips pursed, “Come here.”

You eye him skeptically, “Mark, I have to go. I saw some medicine by the cornucopia.”

Mark pleads to you, “Just..please stay. Stay with me.”

Giving up, you sigh. You set down your bow the prop against the cave wall, the smell of mildew and rainwater filling your nose. You search Mark for answers, only to find his hand tapping his chest, beckoning for you to come over. You lie down, placing your head onto Mark’s chest, your hand resting on his stomach. You feel him melt against you, his chin rested on your head.

He whispers lowly, “If I don’t make it-”

You clutch his shirt, gritting your teeth, “Don’t. Don’t say it.”

Mark stares up at the ceiling, halting his words. He doesn’t finish his sentence.

Waiting after 20 minutes, you check to make sure that Mark is sound asleep. Snores rumble from his chest, stirring when his wound pulses with soreness. Carefully, you raise your head off his body as you make way towards your bow. You’re off. You promised yourself that you’d keep Mark alive. You were going to survive until the end. You had managed to retrieve the medicine though you had run into Clove, an aggressive tribute from district 1. She managed to slice your cheek open with her dagger, right before you had shot her heart with your silver arrow.You never got used to that feeling- the loss of life. Death is always a reminder that humans are mere mortal, not godly beings who have the power to stay young forever.

Making your way back to the cave, you let out a sigh of relief when you push away the curtain of leaves to reveal Mark’s body slumped on the side of the cave, his eyes peacefully shut. His lashes extend over his eyes, casting shadows on his soiled cheeks. It looks like he hasn’t eaten in days. He spent all his time hiding from the other tributes or pretending to join them so he could protect you. He spent so long stalling Cato and Pepper, two aggressive tributes from district 2. They wanted to kill you off from the start, hungry for victory. You set down your bow again, screwing off the container lid of the antibiotic gel from the sponsors. Mark’s obsidian eyes flash open to the sound, eyes darting to the container of medicine you hold in your hands.

“You promised me you wouldn’t go! Agh-”

Mark winces from his sudden movement, causing you to push him back down lightly. You kneel beside him biting your chewed over lip, “I’m fine! I got the medicine.”

Mark leans back, eyes somber when he sees the bloody cut on your cheek, “You don’t look fine!”

You frown, swiping your fingers on your cut, “It’s just a scratch. I ran into Clove.”

Mark lets out a pained yelp in effort to move closer to you, his wound stopping him. He leans back on the cool surface of the cave wall again, gritting his teeth, “Why are you doing this when you can just save yourself?”

You stare at the ground, unable to meet his eyes. You’ve always been one to think with your head, not your heart. Logic over emotion. That’s how it’s always been. You gaze at him, the boy who had thrown you a loaf of bread, the one who shyly stole glances at you during choir class. You put a hair behind your ear, “Mark.. I just don’t want you to get hurt is all..”

Mark sniffles, moving closer to you despite the pain that shoots up his leg, leaving the cave wall so that he’s only millimeters away from your lips. He glances down at them, using his hand to caress your jaw before flicking his eyes up at you. You are in shock, heart beating faster than a million volts zapping through a telephone wire. In a quiet whisper, hushed, Mark swipes a tender thumb over your cheek, “Just kiss me, y/n.”

So you do. You kiss Mark like you mean it. You kiss him like you want him to live. He kisses you even though his leg is hurting but he can’t let go of you. He’s scared in his heart that he’ll watch you climb up to the cave entrance and you’ll be killed by some bloodthirsty tribute who he doesn’t know. He can’t bear to watch you leave that cave. He pulls you closer, your hands weaving through his matted locks and surprisingly, you don’t mind the earthy taste on Mark’s dry lips.

When Mark pulls away, he catches his breath.

You say, grasping the fabric of his shirt, “What was that for?”

He leans his forehead against yours, “I meant what I said during the interview. I’ve always liked you, just from afar. I just wasn’t ballsy enough to tell you.”

In confirmation, you peck Mark’s soft lips again, before taking one good look at him.

Mark takes your hand in his, his forehead rested on yours, “Don’t go out alone. Okay?”

You nod, “Let me help you. We don’t want your wound getting infected.”

You apply the ointment to his wound, causing his muscles to relax from the cooling sensation. He stares at you while you do it, memorizing every movement and every feature. He wants to know what it’s like to braid your hair and touch your face, how your eyes glint and darken in the shadows. He clears his throat, “You need some of that too.”

You shake your head, “I’m okay. I don’t need it.”

Mark doesn’t stop pressing, taking the container out of your hands without warning, “Let me then.”

You narrow your eyes at him, nearing close to him as he dips his fingers into the gel, swiping it on your cheek so that it glistens. You shut your eyes from the feeling, the feeling of Mark’s warm fingers on your skin. It sends shivers down your spine, opening your eyes to the sensation of Mark kissing the corner of your lip, “I know what you’re thinking. I can see it in your eyes. Don’t leave without me, okay?”

You nod, settling back down into Mark’s chest, sleep threatening to take your minds over.

+scene 2: EXTERIOR. 74TH HUNGER GAMES -- DAY: “Together”

You place your sharpened dagger into the palm of Mark’s hand, molding your fingers over his, “You have to kill me, Mark. You have to do it.”

Mark’s eyes widen as large as saucers, pupils darting back and forth between you and the weapon in his palm.

Mark shouts, “Y/n! Are you fucking insane?!”

Your legs tremble, your fingers shaking, “Don’t you see?! Only one of us can make it out of here alive! Only one of us can win!”

Mark cards his smudged hands through his hair, refusing violently, “You can’t ask me that y/n. I’m not killing you. You need to survive.”

The air feels suffocating, tears threatening to spill out from your eyes, “Don’t make this hard. I’ve already decided. It’s okay.”

Mark turns his back to you, throwing the dagger to the ground in anger. He raises his voice and it makes you stand where you are, words caught in your throat. He won’t give up. He can’t see that you’re trying to save him. If anyone’s going to live, it has to be Mark. It has to be him.

Mark looks over his shoulder at you, stepping closer. He nears you cautiously, calloused hands moving up to grip the side of your arms. You stare back at him, Mark’s eyes boring into yours. He uses his fingers to move a hair out of your face, scanning you for some sort of protest- some kind of sign.

Choking out, you whisper, trying to silence your sob, “Mark..”

He wastes no time pulling your body close to him, arms wrapped around your waist. His lips graze the shell of your ear, “Y/n, I’m not letting you die here.”

Your palm moves to the pad of your pocket, something firm in the depths of it. You dip your fingers into the pocket, pulling out small round balls that sit in your palm. Nightlock berries. Poisonous. Your mind flashes back to Fox’s dead body in the woods near the nightlock bushes, the purple juice smeared on her lips. Mark pulls away confusedly to look at your palm, his eyes blinking to register what it is. He hates the idea. You know because he scrunches his nose and narrows his eyes. But, it’s the only way.

“Don’t tell me…”

You split the cluster of berries in half, placing the other half into Mark’s palm.

He looks up at you with concerned eyes, “Y/n, there’s another way. We don’t have to do this and you don’t have to die. I can-”

“No! No, Mark. It’s both of us or none of us. I’m not killing you. This is our best option.”

Defeated, he sighs, playing with the berries with the pad of his thumb. Finally, he doesn’t argue with you. It’s because he knows the capitol won’t stop until one of you is dead. You wrap your fingers around his free hand, squeezing it, “Together, okay?”

Mark bites his lip, “Are you sure?”

You nod in confirmation, “On 3.”

Mark shudders under your touch, holding the berries up to his lips, “Together.”

In your heads, you count from 1.. Then 2.. And when you’re about to toss your heads back, the canon in the sky booms and it makes you and Mark snap your heads up.

“Tributes from district 12! Stop!”

+scene 3: INTERIOR. DISTRICT 13-- DAY (JOHNNY’S WEDDING): “Family”

District 13. The rebels have resided here ever since the Capital issued war on the districts. They burnt 12 to the ground. They killed everyone and destroyed your home with fire bombs, nothing left but ashes and death. President Snow. God, you hated the man. He kills everyone and everything that teems with life, making them suffer a slow and torturous death. To punish you, he turned Mark into a weapon. He took Mark from you during the quarter quell and hijacked him so that whenever he sees your face, he goes rabid. The fear in his mind takes him over every time, there is no soft, innocent glow anymore. The boy you see in that medical cubicle is not the real Mark. He is not the one who you love.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you’re transported back to Johnny and Annie’s wedding. Silly, isn’t it? To have a wedding during a war. It unifies people in the midst of the chaos yet the comfortability doesn't last long when you know Snow is alive. He will not stop at anything. You catch your mother and Jungwoo, your older brother dancing in the middle of the floor under the canopy that’s full of fresh flowers and foliage.

Jungwoo motions you over, a smile slashed on his lips as his bright, blond hair bounces whenever he twirls your mother around. She’s laughing too, she looks so happy that it pains you to know that you’re planning to leave. You have to make Snow pay for all the people he’s hurt. This meant Mark. He stripped Mark of his identity and altered his memories and it made you seethe in anger. Still, you enter the dance floor as you answer Jungwoo's call, taking his warm hand in yours.

You always thought that Jungwoo’s eyes are kind. Out of both of you, Jungwoo had always been the bright one. You always protected him. Your mother joined a circle with the other women, spinning their skirts in a circular motion to the beat of the claps and violin notes. Jungwoo sways with you, teeth gleaming between his pink lips, “What are you thinking about, y/n?”

You shake your head, faking him a small smile, “Nothing, Woo. Just, tired.”

“You should really get some rest. We have time before Coin mobilizes.”

You squeeze his hand, intertwining your fingers, “Woo, could I tell you something?”

Jungwoo raises an eyebrow, his voice floating out in a sing-songy tune, “What is it, y/n?”

Your eyes fall to the prim rose that is pinned to his simple suit, the ivory on the petals matching his hair.

You look at him, closing the gap to hug him, “I love you, you know? I need you.”

Jungwoo laughs, rubbing his hand down your back and patting your head innocently, “What’s gotten into you? Did someone put herbs in your drink?”

You snuggle deeper into the Jungwoo, holding him tight, “You’re my brother. I care about you. I just need you to know.”

Jungwoo giggles nodding, “You’re my baby sister. I’ll always protect you, you know that. Is something wrong?”

You muster a small smile, “Not at all. Not at all.”

Little did Jungwoo know, you’d be leaving him for the front lines in the morning.

+scene 4: INTERIOR. DISTRICT 13 --NIGHT: “Lies”

It’s the first time you’ve seen Mark since district 13 has taken you, Johnny, and Jaehyun. The capitol poached Mark, Johanna, and Annie like burglars, sabotaging a rebel plan to undermine their precious President. The last thing you remember is being told that Jaehyun volunteered to rescue Mark with 3 other soldiers from the rebel side. He was doing it for you. You knew that. You spot Jaehyun leaning by a wooden door, your heart pounding out of your chest.

Breathless, you inhale, “Oh my god, you’re okay.”

Jaehyun wraps his arms around you, embracing you tightly. You’re sure he presses a light kiss to the crown of your hair, “He’s inside.”

You detach from him, rubbing your thumb over the knuckle of his hand, “Thank you.”

He nods. When you leave him, he almost looks sad. He looks wilted. You rush down the hall, thanking the other soldiers who rescued the remaining victors. To your left, you spot Annie running to Johnny as he picks her up to kiss her. Johanna sits on her hospital bed, scoffing when you pass by. She looks different. She looks thinner, scars run lines all over her skin. What did the capitol do to them? You finally arrive at the last door of the hallway. There’s something in the pit of your belly that shakes your nerves. You’re hesitant. Is Mark really here in district 13? A soldier nods at you, opening the door for you to enter. It’s a glass window, space to view into the hospital room. That’s when you see him. Your heart absolutely drops. Mark sits on his hospital bed. His black hair is streaked with grey. His neck is inhumanely bruised with purple slashes. The dark circles around his eyes make it seem like he hasn’t slept in years. He’s different because the capitol tortured information out of him. And it breaks your heart. He’s hurting. Haymitch eyes you, your mentor ever since the first games.

“We’re lucky that Jaehyun got Mark out when he did. Otherwise, they would’ve all been dead.”

Mark sees you through the transparent glass, his onyx eyes absent of the boy who was once your friend, your partner- the part you loved. Gingerly, dressed in a hospital gown, Mark gets up. He treads on his toes, staring right back at you through the glass. You press your hand to the viewing window, hoping that Mark will smile and reassure you it’s alright. You want him to be alright. He doesn’t. He unleashes it all from within him. He screams at the top of his lungs, beating the glass with his fists. The fiber glass doesn’t break. But Mark’s changes scare you, causing you to flinch and trip backwards. Mark’s eyes are rimmed red, and spit is flying out of his mouth from his shouting. You had never seen him so angry. You’re so shocked you can’t register the words that shoot out of his mouth. Haymitch stands next to you, arms crossed. He doesn’t look surprised.

Haymitch sighs, “The capitol used tracker jacker venom on him. They used you as the image of fear to extract information and brainwash him.”

And you feel as if all the noise in district 13 fades into white static. All you can tune in is to Mark’s violent words. He’s screaming to you that you’re a liar and you’re a mutt- meant to kill for district 13. He screams how you’ll end up hurting Jungwoo and Jaehyun, and all the people you love. You take off running. Haymitch calls for you, but you can't hear his voice through the sear. It’s all in slow motion, and you can hear how your heart cracks inside of you.

At night, Mark’s taunts haunt you whenever you close your eyes. You sit up in your bed, unable to sleep. You want to see Mark’s face. You want to look him in the eyes. You’re desperate for any sign he still exists. Jungwoo seems to hear your rustling from the frame of the bunkbed, your mother sleeping in the bed next to you.

“You awake?”

You freeze at the sound of Jungwoo’s voice, tense.

“Yeah. Going to see him.”

Jungwoo sits up too, rubbing his eyes, “Mark?”

You sigh, “Yeah.”

Jungwoo watches you lace your shoes.

“I’m coming with you.”

You bite your lip, “Are you sure?”

“I can’t sleep either. Mind as well.”

“Okay.”

Jungwoo climbs down the ladder, putting on his own shoes. You’re both careful not to wake your mother, slinking through the empty halls of district 13. Jungwoo keeps pace with you as you glance at the empty hospital cubicles. It looks all too eerie. Finally you arrive at the last door one again. The corridor is lit by blue lights, casting a light blue glow on the tiles. Mark lies in his hospital bed, strapped down with leather belts. He stays unmoving, empty eyes pointed to the ceiling. And all you can do is watch him. Jungwoo watches him too.

“They must’ve really messed him up. I feel bad for him.”

You try to stop yourself from crying, “I know.”

Jungwoo sighs, “The doctors said they’re working on conditioning him. So that he gets better. He’s not gone forever.”

Jungwoo wraps a protective arm around you, allowing you to rest your cheek against his shoulder.

“I miss him. I miss Mark.”

Jungwoo rubs your shoulder with his thumb, just like he always does, “I’m sure he misses you too.”

You both watch Mark begin to struggle against his restraints, his cries of frustration reverberating against the white walls of the room.

+scene 5: INTERIOR. BELOW THE CAPITAL-- NIGHT: “Johnny’s Sacrifice”

---START OF FLASHBACK

Back in the quarter quell, meeting Johnny was unique to say the least. He was the tallest among the victors. Handsome, cocky, and his eyes always burned with a glare, a fire that is never stoked. He always glanced with a smirk on his pink lips, golden hair slicked in suave waves. Gleaming golden boy of the capita-- heartthrob from the violent, malicious hunger games. He was untouchable. Everyone showered him with praise and gold costumes, a trident that was fit for poseidon.

“Well, look who it is.. the infamous y/n. What an honor.”

You turn to face the man who stands behind you, his voice smooth like butter. You almost detest it.

“What do you want Johnny?”

Johnny moves his bang out of his eye, raising his eyebrow, “Nothing, darling. Just came over to pay my respects.”

You scoff at him, “I don’t think that’s the real reason why you’re here.”

You hear Johnny chew something, a sugar cube resting between the pad of his index fingers. He hums in delight, “You know, these sugar cubes are supposed to be for the horses but, they’re sweet on my tongue. Would you like one?”

Johnny hold out a sugar cube to you, his tongue swiping his lips. You mutter, “Stay out of my way, Johnny.”

“Hmm. You’ll regret not taking that sugar cube my dear. It’s a different playing field now.”

You adjust the itchy harness on your costume, watching Johnny toss you a knowing look over his shoulder, a sinister smile on his lips.

After the quarter quell, you had gotten time to know Johnny for who he is. His partner, Mags, an elderly woman, volunteered for Annie during the selection. Surprisingly, Mags had made it quite far. Johnny was always on his toes, eyes darting in between the trees, trident searing through the fallen foliage on the ground. He guarded her like her life depended on it, which it did. The killing games were no place for an elderly woman, especially one who couldn’t defend herself. When you and Mark had run into Johnny and Mags in the forest, a thick, musty white fog crept along the trees like a blanket of foggy acid- burning everything and everyone it could reach. But you didn’t know that until you reached out your hand. It was only until your skin started to bubble and you realized you were screaming in pain, it felt like you were being burnt alive. Johnny screamed at Mags to get on his back, her calloused hands wrapped around his neck and his shoulders. Mark ran behind you, his hand guiding along the small of your bag to almost push you to run faster. The fog was quickly catching up. You heard Johnny scream Mag’s name, crying out for her as you looked back behind you to see what was happening. You couldn’t believe it. Willingly, she walked into the fog herself- knowing there was no chance she could make it out of the games alive. She was slowing Johnny down and she loved him too much to do that. He crouched on a mound of soil, hands cradling his head as he cried. His sobs morphed into screams as the fog was beginning to consume him. You tear back in his direction, Mark begging you to wait but you don’t. Instead, with all your might, you drag Johnny eleven though his weight is too heavy. He lifts himself up with you, stumbling over his feet as the fog begins to burn the neck of your skin. You scream, tears forming in your eyes and it’s like you want to claw off the blistering texture but you can’t because it’s so painful. Mark comes bounding for you both, the fog burning his skin too. He lets out a pained sound, struggling to haul both of you.

With your last bit of strength, you, Mark, and Johnny attempt to bound through the forest, tripping over each other as you collapse onto the ground. The soil irritates your burns, causing you to grit your teeth. Luckily, the invisible barrier starts to glow white, the misty fog hitting against the barrier, blocking it from reaching you. You had crossed the border in time. You would’ve been dead. Still, it feels like your skin is being torched off and there's no end to the pain. That is until you see a glimmer of a reflection in front of you. Water. You drag your body, telling Mark and Johnny to do the same. The water begins to cool your skin and it makes you sigh, relief to the sear of the burns. You, Mark, and Johnny got lucky. You managed to survive.

---END OF FLASHBACK

In current time, the rebels have issued a plan to besiege the capitol. The game-makers run the capitol like it’s their own chess board, except it's another game of death. You, Johnny, Mark, and the others decided to move underground to be less visible and less chances of being attacked. Though, you should have known the game-makers would catch on quickly. Snow would stop at nothing to kill the mockingjay’s allies.

The underground chambers of the capital are basically the sewer system. You, Johnny, Mark, Jaehyun, and the others trudge in the darkness, reaching for the walls of the sewer chambers for balance. The air reeked of muddy water and mold, and whatever sludge that stuck to the bottom of your shoes. You lead the pack, Jaehyun hot on your tail and the others follow behind. That’s when you hear Cressida’s scream. You whip your head back, your eyes widened to the sight of Cressida firing into the darkness, sewer mutts launching themselves forward in waves.

She screams, “Go! Go! Go!”

You wade through the water as fast as you can, moving your legs with force. Your heart is thundering in your ears. You feel dizzy and your grip on your bow tightens. You hear someone else scream, Pollux’s brother is dragged by a sewer mutt, the smell of blood and garbage is making you sick. You keep running, Johnny trying to stay behind to help the man. It’s too late. Cressida urges Johnny to keep moving forward, he pushes Mark to move even faster. You scream at the top of your lungs, “Where the fuck are we going?!”

Jaehyun urges you on, “Don’t stop running! Just keep going!”

Your legs are starting to betray you. Still, you painfully dodge through a series of sewer tunnels, hoping that the game makers don’t send sewer mutts down your path. Finally, there is an exit chamber in the center lobby of the tunnels. The only problem is, sewer mutts pour in through each opening. They look like rabid dogs with no faces, just sharp, pointy teeth. You spot the middle platform that secures a ladder up to the exit hatch. Before you can even start grabbing the rungs, sewer mutts surround you. You load your arrow into your bow, shooting off fire bombs at the mutts. Some fall into the water with a screech. From your side view, Jaehyun is firing at them with his crossbow and Johnny’s busy using his trident to skewer their bodies. But where is Mark? You see Mark’s body is half submerged in water in an attempt to roll the mutt off him. In an immediate instinct, you make a running start and tackle the mutt off him, your body crashing into a current of sewer water. A mutt in the murks screeches underwater, grabbing ahold of your foot. You try to shake it off, running out of breath. It doesn’t budge. You reach behind you to grab your last spear arrow, driving it into the chest of the mutt as hard as you can muster. When it loosens its grip, sinking to the bottom of the trench, you feel a pair of strong arms lift you up. The arms drag you back onto the platform, it’s Mark. Before Mark can say anything, a mutt attacks him from behind, causing him to shout.

You scream, “No!”

You grab an arrow from your canister that’s strapped to your back, shooting a specialized arrow at the mutt, causing it to drop dead on the platform.

Mark sits up, shaking his head from the dizziness of being dragged around. He presses his hands to his eyes, gaining his breath. To your left, Cressida’s firing magazines at more mutts. There’s not time, there’s too many.

“Jaehyun, get out of here! Grab Mark! Cressida you too!”

Johnny yells to Cressida and Jaehyun, “I’ll cover for you!”

Jaehyun and Cressida waste no time. Cressida starts to climb the ladder upwards, Jaehyun picks Mark up with ease. Mark protests, “We can’t leave y/n here! Y/n!”

You scream back, fending more mutts, “Just go! I’ll be right behind you!”

You hear Jaehyun urge Mark to follow Cressida. He does. You motion to Jaehyun, “Keep going! We’ll be there!”

Jaehyun gives you a somber look, biting his lip. He follows after Mark, clipping his bow onto his back. While you watch Jaehyun and Mark, you don’t realize it when a mutt chokeholds you from behind, dragging with such strong force. You scream, causing Johnny to whip around.

“Y/n! I’m coming!”

Johnny swings his trident in a masterful move, injuring every mutt that comes from his left and right. Finally, he reaches you and stabs the mutt in the chest, lifting you before you can be submerged in the water again.

“Y/n! Are you okay?”

You gain your breath, “I’m okay. I’m okay.”

Water wets Johnny’s blonde hair, his trident in his hand. He extends a hand to you, “Go with the others. I’ll be right there.”

You’re surprised that the mutts haven’t attacked during your whole conversation. Instead, they're beginning to encircle both of you in a slow, surround formation. There’s no time to argue. You make your way to the ladder, glancing back at Johnny. He nods. He continues to swing his trident at the mutts that surround him. When you’re high enough, you call out for Johnny. He backs up into the ladder as he starts to make his way up. But then, a mutt pounces on him, causing him to lose his purchase on the ladder.

“Johnny! Johnny!” You scream, reaching your hand out to him. It’s too late. He falls into the water again, screaming your name. A swarm of mutts begin to swallow him up like a raging storm, you’re witnessing your friend be eaten alive. His scream is so violent, so painful. You cry out, screaming Johnny’s name over and over again. That’s when you remember the bomb that was built in case of emergencies. You unlock it, you say, “Nightlock. Nightlock. Nightlock.”

Dropping it down, It falls back down the ladder, fire exploding the platform and the pile of mutts that consume Johnny. You wouldn’t have wanted him to suffer. What will you tell Annie? How will you tell her that her husband, her child’s father is now dead? You climb up the ladder as tears stream down your cheeks, it makes your nose runny. Soon, Jaehyun lifts you out of the narrow shaft.

+scene 6: INTERIOR. DISTRICT 13 BUNKER -- NIGHT: “Drunken Kiss”

You lean your head against the sidebar of the ladder on your shared bunk bed. Air strikes continue to boom over district 13, causing people to murmur in worry. The capitol had launched a surprise attack on district 13. Luckily, Mark had warned Coin in time, though he’ll get punished for it. You yearn for his warm, calloused hand. You yearn for the crack in his voice, innocent and soft. His laugh reminds you of the summer time and his eyes are deep, just like you could fall into them. Your thoughts are disrupted by Jaehyun. The man plops onto the mattress next to you, his ears and cheeks reddened. He smells of liquor.

“Jae, have you been drinking?”

Jaehyun hiccups a little, a frown scribbled on his face, “What if I told you I was? Just a little. I was off duty.”

You playfully punch him in the shoulder, “We’re hiding in a bunker with all these people and you decided to drink now?”

Jaehyun narrows his eyes, running a hand through his hair, “Can you blame me? You’re being distant. It’s because he isn’t here, right?”

You freeze at his words, turning towards him, “Jaehyun..”

Jaehyun shakes his head, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. I sound so bitter.”

You watch him rub a hand over his eyes as if that will wake him up a little more. You scoot closer to him. He searches you for answers, he doesn’t find any. You take it upon yourself. You need a distraction. You grab his face forcefully, kissing him with faux fervor. Jaehyun scrunches his eyebrows, reciprocating the kiss before pulling you onto his lap. You feel him fold his lips over your bottom lip, hot hands running through your hair. Jaehyun moans into the kiss before detaching from you, shaking his head, “This is wrong.”

He knows you so well, he senses it. You swipe your hand to wipe your lips. Jaehyun sighs, “I’m the one who’s drunk but why does it feel like I’m sober?”

“What do you mean? I told you how I felt about you. I love you Jae, I just-”

Jaehyun’s eyes are disappointed but expectant, “You love Mark more. I felt it on your lips. It didn’t feel real.”

You’re taken aback by Jaehyun’s words. Yet at the same time, he knows. He knows. Tears begin to well up in your eyes, “I’m sorry. I do mean it, I care about you. I really love you.”

Jaehyun places his hand over yours before squeezing, “I know. It’s okay.”

Jaehyun lets go, cold air hitting your skin, “I should help Coin with night watch.”

And just like that, Jaehyun’s gone. Mark isn’t here. Jungwoo sits next to you instead, coming back from where your mother sits. He doesn’t say a word. He uses his hand to usher you to rest your head on his lap. It’s like somehow without saying, he knows. The bombs continue to shake the arsenal, and the lights start to dim in and out.

+scene 7: INTERIOR. SNOW’S MANSION-- DAY (AFTER THE ATTACK ON THE CAPITAL): “Goodbye Jaehyun”

“You never came to see me.”

You sit in your leather chair, your hands discarded in your lap. Everything runs through your mind in a series of black and white reels, the siege on the Capitol. You remember people dying in front of your eyes, bombs of fire exploding down from the sky. You remember seeing Jungwoo, your older brother as he tried to heave people away from the fires and the wreckage. His eyes looked so soft then. His hair blew in the smoke, ashes dusted on his cheeks. And then the blast happened. Everything became white, your eardrums bled with white noise. It made the bile in your stomach rise, your head shaking from the impact. Then, you woke up in Snow’s mansion.

Jaehyun enters the room, still dressed in his rebellion uniform. His head hangs low, eyes stuck on the carpet. He looks like he’s going to be sick.

He mumbles, tears forming in his eyes, “I wanted to. Trust me.”

“So, why didn’t you? Where were you?”

Jaehyun’s biting his lip so hard it bleeds red. He sniffles through his nose, tears running down his cheeks, “I.. couldn’t… I failed. I promised I would protect your family and I couldn’t do that.”

When you look at Jaehyun, the boy you’ve grown up with your entire life, you see him. You see your older brother’s face and it makes the knot in your stomach tangle itself even further. You see Jungwoo’s figure being consumed in the flames, unable to run- unable to escape.

You grip the armrest, nails digging into the leather fabric, “Were they ours? The bombs. Tell me Coin didn’t give the order. Tell me it was the Capitol. Tell me it was Snow.”

Jaehyun is silent. His eyes don’t meet yours. He plants his feet, not coming anywhere near to you. It’s enough to confirm his answer.

You ask, “Was it you?”

“I’m s-sorry. I-I’m so sorry.”

You remember Snow’s voice echoing in your head, Coin had manipulated district 13 into bombing capitol children to cause more deaths- unnecessary deaths. Jungwoo’s death. All the medics who were sent out to help civilians are dead too.

You scrape your nails along the leather, boiling with anger as tears threaten to spill out of the dam, “Goodbye Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun doesn’t hesitate to leave. He turns heel quickly, sniffling from his tears. Shutting the cedar wood door behind him, you’re left alone in the cold air of Snow’s desolate mansion.

+scene 8: EXTERIOR. DISTRICT 12 VICTOR’S VILLAGE -- DAY: “I’m Here”

Now that the war is over, Snow and Coin are dead. Two people who craved power, now killed by the mark of the people- it’s a sign of freedom. It’s a symbol for the breaking of the chains that dictatorship has placed upon Panem. There was only one thing left to do. You didn’t want to stay in the Capitol, not to live a rich life now that you’ve lost your brother. You’ve lost Mark and Jaehyun. Effie and your mother promised they would help the other council members rebuild. So, you and Haymitch took the train home. Or, at least whatever was left of district 12. Haymitch takes the house next to the victors’ manor, just as he had during the games. No flowers grow in the garden anymore, the dirt mixed in with ash and soot. The sky is grey and it makes your heart all the more heavy. You must clear your head. You grab your canister of arrows and your bow, heading off to the meadow by the woods. It’s different, walking the path alone. The sun sets over the horizon just above the tip of the mountains. The world is so vast, you can’t but help wonder what’s out there.

Running among the trees, foliage brushing your skin makes you feel free. The light shines through the leaves, it’s warm. It’s like Mark. It feels like your brother’s smile. It feels like Jaehyun’s touch. You run as far as your legs can take you, your grip tight on your bow. At the bottom of the hill, you spot a stag along with a baby deer grazing on overgrown grass. You sit on a rock for a while, watching the stag and the baby. You have no intention of hunting it. It hasn’t done anything to harm you, there’s no reason to take it’s life. You’re tired of it, watching death. The tears just come bursting like a dam. You scream for your brother, you miss Jungwoo the most. You miss his gummy smile and the way he’d cling to you, the way he’d comfort you when things have gone bad. The more you think of Mark’s name in your head, it causes you to break even farther. Grief is a sad, bone-crushing weight. The stag and the baby deer are long gone.

Walking the dirt path out of the woods is lonely. The sky thunders a little, it might rain. There’s nothing but trees, grass, and daisies that grow on little stems in between the rocks. By the time you make it back to the victors’ village, you assume Haymitch is either in the shower or sleeping. But that’s when you stop. A figure is hunched over by the garden, a figure whose back is turned to you. Black hair shines under the gold sun. It can’t be. You drop your bow and your canister of arrows to the ground.

“Mark?”

And he’s right there. Mark turns around, slapping his soil-covered hands together. He stands up, eye-level to you. And he smiles so much that his teeth show, “Y/n.”

You waste no time pulling him in for an embrace, inhaling his mint scent. You feel like you could cry, thinking you had lost him forever. Mark keeps his hold on you, “I’m here now. I’m sorry for keeping you waiting.”

You shake your head, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Mark detaches from you, wiping your tears with his thumb, “I’ll be right with you. I just need your help to remember, yeah?”

You nod, understanding that Mark hasn’t fully recovered from the tracker jacker venom. Mark takes hold of your hand, ushering to crouch beside him. He places your hands on top of a dirt mound, using his own hands to press it down.

He smiles, “I found some yellow daisies by the forest. Jungwoo really liked these, right?”

You stare back at him, eyes widened. You nod in confirmation. You waste no time to press a chaste peck to Mark’s dirt covered cheek, “Thank you.”

Mark giggles, his cheeks moving upwards as he grins.

The next few months are peaceful. You, Mark, and Haymitch eat dinner together every night in the manor. When there are rainy days, you open the front door, your back against one side of the door frame and Mark on the other. The glow of the rain illuminates the shine in Mark’s eyes, laughing as he sticks his hand out in the rain. The sound of Haymitch playing the piano thrums in the background as you continue to watch Mark smile at the rain, flicking some water at you. In the night, you toss over and over in your bed. So, you grab your candle holder and tread in the quiet of the dark to Mark’s room. He lies on the mattress spread out, eyes peacefully closed. The sight makes your heart beat slow. You set down the candle on the night stand, removing the covers so you’re able to slip in by Mark. Automatically, he wraps an arm around you, a small noise slips from his lips. Half asleep, Mark asks, “You love me, real or not real?”

You answer him, softly, “Real.”

It causes Mark to face you, rolling over, eyes fully open. He reaches his hand up to caress your cheek, only illuminated by the soft light of the candle, “I love you, y/n.”

“I know Mark. I know.”

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mellowasinyellow · 4 years ago

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100daysofwriting - Day 1

So I thought for the first day I might just briefly outline all of the WIPs I have actually made a start on and that might help me to decide where I want to focus some energy. I have some for Katniss/Peeta in THG fandom and some for Natasha/Clint in the MCU.

Everlark

folklore series - so I started this series of fics inspired by songs from Taylor Swift's album folklore because honestly those songs just immediately bring to mind so many scenarios that made me think of Katniss and Peeta. I made a start on chapters based on peace, my tears ricochet, invisible string, this is me trying, and mad woman. I also have a bit of an outline for continuing the story that was started in 'the 1'.

I've had this one WIP ongoing since about 2015(?) which is a bit of a monster that has grown beyond me but basically it involves Katniss and Gale being raised in the Capitol in relative poverty after their fathers are conscripted into the peacekeepers because of traitorous activity. Mrs Everdeen is still from 12 but was moved to the Captiol to be married (this part is sketchy) and she still had a little childhood romance with Mr Mellark. Peeta gets reaped and Mrs Everdeen reacts to this as he looks like his father. Katniss gets a crush on him as she watches him prepare for the games. She hates herself for it but finds herself checking up on how he is doing even during non-mandatory viewing.

Arranged Marriage - I feel like this is such a cliche for thg fandom, but I just imagined my own way that the pairings happen but I'm so bad at writing slow burn so this will probably never materialise, but if you want a semi-decent thought out pairing/arranged marriage system I would be happy to lend you mine.

Miscarriage fic - I will never post this, but it's in my WIP folder. It's full of nasty feelings that feel a little better when they are written about.

Modern AU Pandemic Quarantine! - ofc, this is essential. Katniss and Peeta end up as the only people not to move home from their dorm for the quarantine. Slow burn that I can't fucking write should ensue.

Canon Pandemic Quarantine AU - pandemic a few years after the end of the war forces Katniss to admit she wants Peeta as more than a friend with whom she hunts, bakes, rebuilds the district. Cue sexy pandemic times and a resentful Haymitch that keeps accidentally breaking the rules.

Divorced but co-parenting Everlark - obviously finding their way back together

Another classic of their children being reaped and dying - I don't know why I write things this depressing. They just tend to come out in one big rush and then I never address them again.

Real weird teen pregnancy modern day AU - don't know where it's going or why...

Modern day AU dead Prim - Peeta and Katniss just met each other through mutual friends and are kind of flirting. Peeta is a bit infatuated. Katniss stops going to mutual friend parties and he finds out it's because her sister died. Instead of staying away he gets tangled up in her grief and does all sorts of practical things while Katniss wallows. Also it's E rated but not that much fun... can't entirely explain where this one came from either...

Single Parent AU where Finnick and Annie play match maker. Probably my fave Everlark in the works but it's another one that has grown so big for the 20 minutes I can dedicate to it each week.

Clintasha

Red Room Take Down - Nat and Clint are retired and living a quiet family life with their child. SHIELD appears asking for Nat's help in taking down the red room and dealing with the fall out, specifically what to do with the girls that they get out. Nat is torn but chooses to go. Chaos ensues with the 'rescued' girls. I need to actually develop some OCs a little if I ever want this to be good but tbh the pending Black Widow movie is kind of holding me back on this one too because I hope we find out more about the red room.

So I have a weird habit of writing from Lila Barton's POV. I can't explain it. I have AoU and like to pretend it never happened but anyway I have a WIP about Lila detailing the collapse of her parents' marriage after Clint retires and he and Laura actually have to spend time together without Natasha. She then goes on to describe the custody settlement and her utter joy that Auntie Nat sleepovers with them at her dad's place. She feels utterly betrayed when she finds out they are getting engaged.

Fluffy AU - Clint and Natasha in an established relationship with a son born between infinity war and endgame. Natasha still sacrifices on Vormir, but Steve gets her back no bother and it's so nice and happy and fluffy and Clint and Natasha are together and they have a son who has both parents back and Steve gets to make all this happen and he is so happy too and they have a barbecue and go swimming in a lake and clint/natasha have private time, and their kid wants to be captain america, and did I mention how HAPPY everyone is?

Another fic similar to the above just about everyone being so HAPPY. Endgame reverses the snap and instead of weird farm family coming back Clint and Natasha get their daughter back and it's just a cute moment about her reappearance and their race back to the spot she disintegrated from. (Steve/Bucky go to Vormir and Steve is sacrificed, but that fucker CHOSE to leave).

This is another one that has just grown bigger than my brain. it's based off the idea that Natasha helped with coordinating fosterings during the blip time. Clint loses his mind when he loses his family and crashes in BedStuy but finds a neighbour girl (Kate Bishop) who is fending for herself in post-apocalyptic Brooklyn. He helps her out and tries to get children's services involved but it has collapsed. Finds out Natasha is the one getting everything in order. He gets in touch. She's at the end of her tether and asks why he can't keep looking after her. In the end he does and she ends up getting involved and all three get overly attached to each other. I haven't got as far as the events of endgame and idk what's going to happen. It might be tragic.

Pregnant Natasha but nobody knows what is wrong with her because they don't even suspect her being pregnant is possible. Just a real vivid description of the early unpleasant pregnancy symptoms.

Another absolute monster - Sort of canon compliant to begin with aside from before the farm family disappear. Clint and Laura are in the middle of separating and tensions are running quite high at the farm. Snap happens. Nat and Clint accidentally run into each other while both a bit low during the blip and get drunk and share home truths. Begin working together from HQ and both get a little less sad. He convinces her she doesn't have to be responsible for the world's fate every moment of every day. Clint has a break down at Morgan's 1st birthday and realises that things will have to change. Nat has this realisation later. They begin sleeping together. Accidental pregnancy. More feelings come out between them. They enter a more conventional relationship and have baby. Baby is really hard work (colic) and they struggle with comparisons and feelings of inadequacy. Pepper helps them to identify the colic and improves everything greatly. Happy times with baby while also running the avengers. Opportunity to reverse snap. Some good scenes between Nat and Tony. A big conversation between Nat and Clint about what it will mean. Steve and Nat end up going to Vormir together. Nat is obviously about to commit suicide. Steve over powers her and gives her a pep talk about the situation she is running away from and how to deal with it. He self-sacrifices. Clint goes back to farm fam and Natasha goes back to BedStuy with baby. Clint has to tell Laura and then the kids about the last 5 years and their new siblings. Nate is super into it. Cooper is a bit aloof and cynical. Lila is confused. Laura is quietly seething. Clint helps put the farm back together about 5 years of neglect and the kids meet baby. Family gets happier. Laura and Nat eventually meet again and it's civil/friendly.

My own version of what happened in Budapest.

The Call - inspired by a post here on tumblr. Nat calls Clint as she bleeds out. Just needs a beta reader and then I would consider publishing.

AoU reimagined but with Clintasha - I'm not sure where this one is going it's like a massive spider web right now with lots of ideas shooting off, but basically it is inspired by this post and just involves a lot of hoodwinking the other avengers.

Accidental Baby Acquisition - Natasha becomes Yelena's child's legal guardian after Yelena gets taken out. Natasha and Yelena are estranged at this point and Natasha things the whole thing is a trap and brings Clint along. He is surprisingly good with the baby so she ropes him in to teach her. The three of them end up bonding.

5 times there's only 1 bed + 1 time they choose to sleep in the same bed.

non-superhero AU Clint and Nat both think they have adopted a stay cat but actually the cat has owners and just likes strokes and eats a lot so has many 'families'. They get into an argument over which of them the cat belongs to only to find out the cat has owners and they are moving away. They decide to adopt a cat between them as both are not hope that much and the shelter refused them as single people. Slow burn ensues, which I am shit at writing.

#100daysofwriting #everlark #clintasha #thg #mcu #clintasha fanfic #clintasha fanfiction #clintasha fic #everlark fic #everlark fanfic #everlark fanfiction #natasha romanoff #clint barton #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark

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everlarkbirthdaygifts · 4 years ago

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Happy Birthday, mellarkablegirl!

Happy Birthday, @mellarkablegirl! We hope you’ve had a wonderful day so far, and that there is some epic cake forthcoming in your future! To keep your party going, the lovely @endlessnightlock has written a story just for you!

I hope you enjoy this best friends to lovers Everlark! Rated M for content of a sexual nature.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

I toss another rock into the air, and, just like the first one I threw, it pings off the window of Peeta’s bedroom. I wait anxiously, worried it could be his mom or dad I’m going to wake up, since there’s no sign of movement inside his house at all, and certainly nothing from his room.

Yes, it’s one a.m., but he ought to know to look for me by now. We wake each other up like this all the time. I know things will be awkward after everything that happened the other night, but still- that doesn’t mean he’s going to ignore me now, does it?

I cross my arms over my chest and huff. What in the heck is Peeta doing up there?

“Peeta!” I loud-whisper his name harshly, irritated. I should probably just let things go for tonight and let him sleep, but I won’t have any peace until I talk to him- I’ve been going crazy since the other night, and I know we can’t keep ignoring each other, can we?

Besides, he’s used to me waking him up by now anyway.

We've been best friends and next-door neighbors since we were six- Peeta brought me over a picture and a chocolate cupcake the day my family moved into the house next to his. After that, we played in my back yard for hours, digging up bugs and playing made-up pretend games, laughing together the rest of the afternoon.

Fortunately, I’m not left debating whether or not to go home for long, because his window opens and a head full of tousled blond curls appears. I’d recognize Peeta anywhere with that hair- the color is so light the moon reflects off it. It doesn't matter that I can’t see his face.

“What are you doing out there?” he says, his voice thick like I woke him out of a dead sleep.

”I wanted to talk to you, ” I say, shrugging.

“Why didn’t you just send me a text or something?” he clears his throat and leans further out the window.

I frown up at him- and with the way I'm standing underneath the security light, I know he can see my face. What does Peeta think he’s going to do- have a whispered conversation with me from up there- doesn’t he want to talk to me? It makes me wonder if he’s been avoiding me, too, as I suspected.

“Can you come down here, please? I wanted to talk to you.”

He glances behind him, hesitating. Anxiety rears its head and starts gnawing away at me. Did I ruin things between us?

“Yeah, just give me a few minutes,” Peeta says, sounding resigned. He quickly disappears inside his room and shuts the window behind him.

While I wait for him to come downstairs, I climb up his back porch steps and sit on the wooden swing. Leaning back further, I pull my hands inside the sleeves of the sweatshirt I’m wearing to keep them warm- it's one of Peeta’s from freshman wrestling, and I swiped it from his room three years ago. It’s warm and comfortable, and it smelled like him at the time.

While the scent is gone, his sweatshirt is my go-to comfort item, paired with shorts or sweats. It's not like Peeta would have worn it much longer anyway- he had his big growth spurt that summer, and he got so much taller and broader than me I would drown in his clothes now.

It was around the time I started feeling differently about him, I realize now. We’d always been close- Peeta’s my best friend, and I love him as much as I do my sister or my mom and dad. But until that year, I’d never fixated on the way he smelled or how his eyelashes would light up in the sun or how his shirt sleeves grew tight around his biceps and forearms.

I’d certainly never given any thought to the way the edge of his underwear and that strip of skin between the waistline of his pants and the bottom of his shirt would peek out if he lifted his arms above his head. That left me so hot and itchy every time it happened; I couldn’t look him in the face after.

“Hey,” Peeta greets me quietly, stepping out on the porch and closing the door gently behind him. I scoot over on the porch swing to give him room, making sure to provide him with a wide berth. He won't look at me; shame makes my face burn.

I was planning on being the one to bring it up, but suddenly it's as if my mouth is frozen shut. Darn it- there are so many things I need to say.

I open my mouth, glance over at him staring down at his hands like he doesn’t know what to say either, and rapidly shut it again.

You're the one who began this, I tell myself, you need to start this conversation.

”Peeta, hmm, listen.” He turns his head to look at me, and I force myself to speak again, staring into those blue eyes I know so well. ”I’m sorry-”

Peeta’s face drops, and he interrupts me. ”Please don’t say you're sorry, I can take anything but that right now, ” he says, “just don’t say that.”

I look down at my hands. ”But I ruined everything.”

He groans, and I peek over at him again. ”What do you think you ruined?” he whispers, a bit frantic-sounding. ”Katniss-”

It was about the same time- late enough so that Mr. and Mrs. Mellark were both in bed. Neither sets of our parents used to let us stay out so late, but since we’ve both turned eighteen and it’s our senior year, I guess they figure we’ll be out from under them soon anyway, so why bother with a curfew. Either we’re going to get into trouble, or we’re not.

We’d been sitting, talking about the dumb shit going on at school, namely some drama involving Josh Marvel and his on again off again girlfriend Clove Adkins.

Peeta groaned- ”Dude just won’t shut up about her in the locker room. Katniss-”

We were laughing together, and god, how happy his laughter made me. It warmed my body that night like sunshine on a freakin spring day, and while I know how sappy that sounds, it's the truth. That feeling- it made me feel reckless.

”He won't stop talking about how she's the hottest girl in our class-”

”You don’t think she’s the hottest?”

Peeta looked at me like I had lobsters crawling around on top of my head. “Are you kidding me? Hell no. No, not at all. You know I'm not an ogler.”

I laughed. ”Don’t act like you don't.”

He was growing uncomfortable, I could tell, but that didn’t stop me.

“Who do you think is, then?” I prodded him.

Why was I doing this to myself? I knew I wouldn’t like whatever answer he gave me.

I guess I had a perverse wish for some honesty from him because, at that moment, it seemed better to know what he thought, even if it meant I would be found wanting in comparison to the Cashmeres or the Lavinias of the world.

”I don’t think I want to answer that,” he said, his voice tight.

“Why?” I asked, turning in my seat. I was going to hate myself for it later, I knew it- but as an idiot in love with her best friend, I wasn’t already pathetic enough. This display tonight would definitely push me over the edge. “It’s not like I’m going to go hunt her down for you or anything.”

He turned away from me then, staring straight ahead. My stomach plummeted the moment I realized I was going to get my answer.

“What exactly do you mean by the hottest?” He finally asked.

“I think the term hottest is pretty self-explanatory.”

Peeta shifted on the swing. “No, because there are all kinds of attractiveness. I mean, I’m not attracted to guys, but Finnick and Gale are both pretty hot-“

“You’re avoiding the subject,” I said flatly. Bringing up other guys was a rookie move- “come on.”

“Who do you think is the hottest then?” He asked, turning to face me.

You, I wanted to tell him- and you're not just the most attractive, you’re the kindest, and the warmest, and I’d probably give my life for yours. “I’m not the one who’s supposed to answer!” I said, instead.

“It’s only fair,” Peeta said. “You know, you’re so- I wonder if you’ve ever been attracted to anyone, Katniss, even a little bit.”

I scowled at him, covering the hurt with a frown. Where was he getting at with this, turning the tables on me? And how dare he say that- he had no idea how I felt or how attracted to someone I was. He didn’t get to do that.

“Not that there’s anything wrong if you aren’t,” he continued, the words spoken too easily considering the way he’d broken my heart with his carelessness. “I like you the way you are- you’re just so pure. You don’t even notice what’s right in front of your face half the time.” He looked over at me then, with a weird half-smile. “Come on, Katniss- tell me I’m wrong.”

I stared at him, hating myself for beginning this conversation almost as much as I hated him for saying those things to me.

Peeta’s eyes held a challenge, sitting on the porch swing in the dark the way we’d sat for years and years leading up to that night . Endless nights during which we’d grown up together. I’d say I fell in love with him here.

And now, my heart was aching. I bit down on my lip to keep it from trembling.

I can’t say precisely why I did it: maybe it was the way he was looking at me, perhaps it was the frustration I felt with my inability to just say the words to him.

Whatever caused it, at that moment, I think I lost my mind.

While Peeta’s gaze remanded steady and unwavering, I moved closer to him. My heart was racing a million miles a minute, but still, I got my knees beneath me on the swing and leaned in, resting my hands on his shoulders for support, balancing in that precarious position.

And then, before I had time to talk myself out of it, I kissed him. His breath rushed out against my face right as I pressed my lips to his.

I’d never kissed anyone before. I was terrified, hoping I wouldn’t screw it up.

But there was also exhilaration and feeling completely overwhelmed by Peeta’s soft, warm lips under my own.

It was perfect.

He was perfect.

The breath caught in my lungs when he stiffened under my hands and mouth, and for half of a second, I panicked. Before I had time to think about it, he relaxed as if he’d only needed a moment to get used to the idea that I was kissing him.

I pulled back a little, closing my eyes and resting my forehead against Peeta’s. His skin was so warm against mine. I wished it wasn’t so dark, and I could see him better, those minute details of his face I’d never been close enough to take in before.

“Did you just…” Peeta began, but his words trailed off.

Instead of saying anything else, his hands came to my face, framing it for a moment before tilting it and kissing me back; I guess it wasn’t the time for words. I knew he’d kissed a few girls before, so I wasn’t surprised when he took over what we were doing, but not aggressively. He moved his lips against mine, and I responded. It felt like gentle, tingly caresses.

Peeta’s arm went around my waist, and he pulled me closer. I wasn’t sure where to go, so I just leaned into his body.

God, it was amazing- all my senses were in overdrive, his body felt so good against mine, and the way he smelled? I just kind of wanted to bury my face in the side of his neck and never leave.

He shifted a little, and I wobbled, still unbalanced. I was positioned awkwardly next to him, but I wasn’t sure how to rectify it. If I moved, he might stop kissing me, and I never wanted him to stop. It felt like we were in some alternate reality, in a bubble that would burst if one of us had a misstep.

Peeta must have sensed my trepidation; I don’t think he wanted to stop either. “Sit on my lap,” he murmured between kisses, “it’ll be easier that way.”

My pulse was pounding as I swung my leg over his thighs. As I settled on him, I swallowed roughly- I couldn’t believe we were doing this. His body felt so sturdy and warm and hard under me, and I was shocked to realize just how much straddling him affected me. My lips weren’t the only thing tingling- my whole body was a live wire.

“Katniss,” he murmured my name, his voice lower than I ever heard it sound before. His hand went behind my neck again, and he moved into me. This time, his lips parted, and mine opened automatically, my tongue darting out to meet his without a thought. Everything we were doing seemed as natural as breathing, each move requiring no thought. Instinctual.

I moaned into his mouth as his tongue caressed mine. I had no idea this would feel so good, all of this. We were both breathing hard, and I ran my fingers up the sleeves of his t-shirt to touch those strong arms I’d been admiring for years.

He sighed.

Peeta used the arm around my waist to pull me closer to him, and I had no choice but to lay against him, my breasts pressing into his chest as my bottom landed on the hard lump of his erection between my thighs.

Oh my god- it was like all my fantasies were coming true.

And then Peeta said those words that put a screeching halt to everything we were doing. “It’s you,” he pulled away from my lips just long enough to tell me, “only you.”

“Only me what?” I asked, ready to kiss him again.

My brain must’ve taken leave of my body. I couldn’t remember what we’d talked about while sitting on Peeta like this. The only thing I could think about was how good it felt with him beneath me.

“The hottest- the most beautiful. Whatever you want to call it, it’s you.”

His words froze me in my tracks.

Why couldn’t he have kept quiet? “You don’t have to say that,” I said, sitting back to look at him. His lips had swollen, and his eyes looked heavy-lidded as he stared up at me.

I didn’t want to talk about this- I didn’t want to consider that my best friend would flatter me that way just because we were fooling around. I mean, he’s a guy. Of course, he was going to enjoy doing this.

Couldn’t I just have this night? I was under no delusions that things would go further than this. “I’m not-”

“You don’t believe me,” he said incredulously, his eyes darting back and forth between mine. “Why don’t you believe me?”

I shuttered my eyes, finding it was impossible to look at him. “There’s no way you think that about me. How could you?”

Beneath me, Peeta’s whole body went rigid. He was silent for so long, the air between us grew tense. It was strange having him suddenly so distant while we were in such an intimate position.

“Are you saying I’m lying?” he finally asked.

I shrugged- yes, I did think that. What was there to say?

I guess my gesture spoke volumes because, just like that, every one of those good feelings between us dissipated.

Without looking at him, I climbed off of his lap and stood next to the swing. I don’t know exactly how I managed it, but everything seemed screwed up now. “Peeta, I’m-”

He wouldn’t even look at me, staring down at his hands. “I don’t know what you want me to say-” he interrupted.

“I don’t know what you want me to say!” I countered, “I just, I don’t want you to lie to me. Just because we did, just because we did that,” I waved my arm at the swing before quickly tucking it back around myself in a protective move, “doesn’t mean you have to tell me that. God, I just- I expected better from you.”

“Better from me? Katniss-”

I couldn’t do it. I just- “I’m just going to go, okay?” I stopped him. I felt like I was going to be sick.

Peeta heaved out a loud sigh. “Of course you are,” he sounded tired.

He stood abruptly, going inside the house with a slam of his door, leaving me second-guessing everything we’d done.

“Why did you assume I was lying to you that night?” Peeta asks, warily.

“Why did you sat that to me?” I counter.

“Because I meant it, every word of it,” he says, shifting restlessly in the porch swing, his fingers trailing the loops of a chain suspending us from the porch ceiling. “I’m not a liar, Katniss.”

No, he’s right. I’ve never known Peeta to lie, let alone lie to me. Sometimes he can be brutally honest when he’s frustrated. I think I figured out that he was telling the truth already. I just didn’t know what to do with that information.

He turns to face me again. “Why did you kiss me? You weren’t just trying to prove a point, were you? I don’t want you to kiss me to get me off your back or something.”

I let out a breath. “That wasn’t it. Well, it was a little at first, but you were an ass.” “Katniss, the only reason I want you to kiss me is that you want to kiss me.”

“I did want to kiss you,” I say. “I did,” I add at his look of skepticism. “I liked it,” I admit shyly.

“Why, just to see what it was like- did I seem like someone safe to fool around with?”

I frown at him. He makes me want to smack him- is he that obtuse, or does he think I’m shallow enough to kiss him, my best friend, because I wanted to kiss someone, anyone?

But the more I study his face, the more I realize he’s anxious, and his anxiety soothes mine. He seems to be hanging on by a thin thread, waiting for my answer.

Does this mean he wants me too?

And just like that, I know I’m the one holding the cards, as crazy as that seems.

Lucky for Peeta, he’s the only prize I want to win.

“Because I like you,” I say the words confidently as I sit close to him, hip to hip, laying my head on his shoulder and turning my face into his t-shirt. “I want you to be more than my friend. I have for a while.”

“How long is a while?” Peeta asks, and I can’t help but hear the happiness in his voice as he threads our fingers together and rests them on my leg.

“How long has it been for you?” I ask, instead, feeling shy. He needs to fill in some details- I’m not comfortable being the only one laying my feelings out.

“Since I met you.”

“That can’t be true,” I say.

“It’s completely true. Ask Dad- that night after you moved in- when we stayed out until the lightning bugs came out? That night I went home and told my dad I was going to marry you.” Peeta lifts my hand to his; he plants a kiss to my knuckles and rests his head against mine.

I stare at our joined hands, my mind racing.

“So I thought you were just fooling around with me, and you thought I was a liar,” he continues. “And neither one of us was right.”

I think I’m in shock over the way this evening has changed everything between us- it’s like I don’t quite know what to do with myself. “I mean, if you want to say yours was a lie of omission, then that was true. And I liked kissing you,” I admit, teasing Peeta.

“Yeah?” he asks, scooting forward on the seat and turning to face me. He drops my hand to push those loose hairs that escaped from my braid out of the way, tucking them in behind my ear. His fingers linger under my chin, the flat of his thumb caresses my cheek.

I shiver, my reaction giving me away.

“Me too,” Peeta says, smiling widely, “does that mean you want to do it again, now?”

And then we’re kissing- and on the Mellark’s porch swing at least, all is right with the world.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #fan fic #by endlessnightlock

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