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savvylark · 7 years ago

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@amazinglovers747 Oh! If there's interest I could cook up a steamy second part?

Love in Dark Places

@mega-aulover gets a the credit for this title and some ideas that made there way here. Thank you @chele20035 for being my bata last minute! This is rated E for smut.

Happy Valentine’s Day Everlarkers! ❤ @savvylark

Something about you makes me feel like a dangerous woman.

This should feel wrong but it feels so right. His hot kisses have become more intense and more delicious. His lips make a trail down my neck, leaving a fire in their wake. He bites and sucks my pulse point and I lose my breath. I trail my hands up and down his broad chiseled chest and mural of beautiful body art, tattooed in his skin to camouflage the painful childhood scar his mother left. I shove him down to the bed and make a point to kiss every single scar. We don’t talk about it, but we know they’re there, and where they came from.

He moans and draws a need deep within me for more. He finds the clasp from my bra and frees me. His talented fingers trace my spine. I sigh in his touch.

We don’t talk about how we once knew each other years ago. We pretend we were strangers, attracted to one another, who met and flirted at a bar thousands of miles from where we grew up.

As his luscious lips trail down my chest I can’t help but hum in anticipation. My heart is pounding wildly, and I’m nearly breathless as I watch this perfect man slowly unravel me. Fulfilling all my teenage fantasies.

He lifts his gaze to meet mine, deep blue eyes meet silvery gray and I could almost pretend that he’s thinking the same thing, that he’s fantasized about this. He bites that sexy lower lip and can’t help but gawk at his near perfection.

I’ve never wanted anyone like I wanted Peeta, but he was off limits, which only fueled my growing and frustrating desire for him. Some of these feelings I chalked up to physical attraction and teenage hormones. The dangerous desire of forbidden love. Yet, I could never ever shake this innate connected feeling with this guy. Clearly, nothing in this room has anything to do with hormones, the chemistry and heat has been mind blowing.

How many times had I tried to pretend I didn’t get lost in these very deep blue pools of his eyes that speak depths of wonder, beauty, and pain?

How distracted I would get with those impossibly long eyelashes! They should get tangled up, but somehow never did.

How I would daydream about his plump lips wrapped around my bottom lip, wondering what he would taste like. My heart seems to do a double take in disbelief.

I reach up to capture his lips again just to confirm this is real and not a daydream I’ve imaged since high school. My lips are greedy as I pull and nip and suck his. Our tongues meet and dance, stroking and exploring. Like kindling, building the heat and fanning the fire inside me.

His hands crawl up my ribs and brush the sides of my breasts teasingly a few times. I twitch a little in anticipation. When his hands finally cup my breasts I make a low noise I didn’t know I was capable of. I try to remember to breathe as his lips travel down my neck again. I feel a smile from his face on my collarbone.

He’s remembering the time I tried to land that jump and fell off Madge Undersee’s bike, breaking my collarbone. The first real instances we got close without his step-sister around. He felt responsible because it was definitely his fault. You don’t dare Katniss Everdeen to do something, even if I was only an 11 year old and he was 13, I refused to back out of the challenge. He knew it too, and he used that slick tongue of his to convince me. That slick tongue is traveling down my shoulder.

I’m brought back to the present as he bite my shoulder, while his fingers brush and squeeze my nipples. I moan and wiggle my hips, shifting my thighs, attempt to find any kind of friction.

I was entirely awkward about anything remotely romantic or sexual for the longest time as an early teen. While other girls were fantasizing about prince charming I was prancing around with Gale in the woods, probably full of mud. My mother assured me that I was just a late bloomer. I had even wondered if I had any sexual preferences at all because I wasn’t attracted to anyone in that way.

Until one day, wrestling champ and golden boy Peeta Mellark and I were seated on the porch of the house his mom and the major call home drinking lemonade. Nothing out of the ordinary, but usually we have his step-sister Madge as an optimistic buffer.

I can’t even remember what lead to such a dark turn in our conversation but we accidentally started to talk about painful memories of our past. Instead of the conversation being awkward, it was amazingly cathartic. It felt like releasing the pressure of a painful festering injury.

Everyone saw this picture perfect boy, when the truly painful things he continued to struggle with had a way of digging in and eating away inside. He hid it all with a kind smile and quick humor.

There was a moment where we stood gaping at each other. Suddenly I saw him in entirely new light, but what truly scared me was, I saw something I identified with. I recognized his soul being just like mine, battered and bruised, but resilient and courageous.

That Emily Brontë quote runs through my mind once again, “Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”

I tried, but I’ll never forget how my heart leapt out of my chest upon the recognition, the awakening within me. I was captivated by this man.

I started having dreams about him, innocent at first, just he and I against the world in various settings, hand in hand. I started to find myself more attracted to Peeta Mellark with each time I saw him. The dreams took on a more physical and eventually explicit nature.

My attention is drawn back as Peeta’s searing lips reach my nipples and I arch into him. His hands run down my back and start to play with the waist of my jeans. My fingers sink into his wavy blond hair. I love it longer and unruly like this.

It may have been my imagination, but it seemed from that day, the way I saw Peeta changed, he started to go through his own metamorphosis. He dropped out of wrestling, “One championship title was enough,” he said. He spent more time concentrated on artwork, dropped the debate team, in favor of drama club.

He was also able to stand up for what he wanted, despite what his mother pressured on him. Insead of his neatly styled Ivy League haircut he grew it a little longer on the top. His preppy attire shifted to reflect a more creative and darker Peeta. It fit him better and people took notice.

In my naive mind, I used to think that I was the catalyst for Peeta taking his life back and,not being a piece in his mom’s calculating chess game. I let go of that idea a long time ago.

My hands grip his back slip down the plains of his muscular back, I trail my hands around and down his abs, follow the happy trail and ever so quietly lessen his belt and lower his zipper ever so slightly. I have admired his infamous backside and appreciated how nicely he fills out a pair of jeans. I dip my hands past the band of his boxer briefs and cup each cheek while he lavishes the other breast with strokes of his tongue. I’m writhing under his ministrations.

He still has the same familiar scent of herbs and a specific peeta sent that brings to mind memories of happier times. Of innocence, but also the thrill of desire for him that courses through me. The familiarity alone is starting to drive me wild. I smooth my hands around his hips and down each let as I start to ease his pants down.

He’s momentarily startled, as I hear a sharp intake of breath. I wriggle and use my feet to push the pants down further. I tangle my legs with his and a line our hit centers and move my hips in slow figure eights. The guttural deep moan I’m rewarded with shoots spark to my very core.

Peeta looks up at me with an intense look I only recognize because I might be giving him the same one. I don’t understand how this can be the most intensely hot encounter to date and yet this connection feels like coming home all at once.

Peeta was so hot in high school, it was no secret. He dated the most gorgeous girls to walk those halls. His artistic endeavors didn’t put a damper on his popularity, he was still crowned homecoming king. His artwork was displayed all over the school. He seemed more mysterious Peeta and that much more alluring. The more artist dark Peeta challenged text book popularity, his depth and commitment to being true to himself started tidal wave of change in people all around him. Cliques didn’t matter, race and sexual orientation seemed to fade as a division. Peeta boldly accepted everyone and cause others to question their prejudice.

It meant a lot to me that he still chose to walk with me, a lowly sophomore and his little (step)sister’s sullen and surly friend to choir on his way to the drama department his entire senior year. I always tried to keep my heart from pounding out of my chest, but once he started our conversation I was always put at ease. I kept thinking he would get side tracked by a friend more worthy of his attention, but he was unwavering.

Still unwavering, and so much sexier in present day, Peeta is hovering over me. His eyes, hazy with lust make my stomach flip, I tremble under his touch. His hand smooths over my hip, and get the strong urge to kiss him again.

Oh lordy, I might actually be addicted to his lips. I grab his head and pull it down to mind. Our lips smash together not as aggressively this time. Our tongues meet and dart and chase. His hand now cups the front of my pelvis and I moan into his mouth. Instinctively I reach for his length, I don’t know what I was expecting but it’s impressive, I gasp.

“Oooh Katniss!” I hear his low voice groan my name in my ear.

This is the first time either of us has acknowledged that we know each other beyond tonight. I think it’s been 6 years since either of us has set foot in our shitty hometown, and just about the same that we’ve seen one other. I wonder what this means for the evening, for our little game?

I run my hand up and down his manhood a few times teasingly. His ragged breath against my throat is doing things to me. His fingers wonder and tease until he rubbing me with more pressure and more purpose. I release him as he scoots his body further down to kiss my stomach and dip his tongue in my belly button, his kisses trail lower. I pant in anticipation as he continues to stroke with just the right amount of pressure on my core.

I think of all the times I admonished myself for these dirty thoughts. The pep talks I had in my head about how he was off limits, and how dangerous it was to fantasize about such things with Peeta of all people, most wanted man of Panem High. After Madge’s falling out with her former friend and brother’s ex, we made a pact, brothers and step-brothers are off limits, until further discussion.

There were a few times when we had Show Choir performances at the All School Assembly. I could have sworn I saw Peeta’s eyes locked with mine as I sang, in some sort of trance. Like he knew I was singing for him. Like he was aware that he gave me courage to do so, with every day that he existed. With every fiber of his being. I had to brushed it off the thoughts. Just my imagination playing tricks on me.

But the look he was giving me earlier, eyes boring into my very soul, recognizing it's… no, don’t go there, just enjoy this.

My underwear is flung across the room and he pins my legs down and draws them further apart as if a man on a mission. I blush at the vulnerable feelings I have, drape my arm over my eyes and sigh. His hands travel up my thighs and I desperately try not to growl.

I’m a girl on fire, a raging inferno is building inside me, only be quenched by a man that doesn’t know he possesses my heart. This tattooed tortured artist with mesmerizing eyes, and the kindest heart despite this cruel world.

His strong tongue and slender fingers reaching where I had been waiting years for him. Elicits in me things I didn’t know were possible. I’m dazed and lost in wave after wave of pleasure. I’m flying and its glorious. Fantasy and daydreams be damn. As the euphoric energy sends my head buzzing I am awakened some how. I feel like a new woman. I feel dangerous. Aggressive. Desired.

I shove Peeta down and straddle him with a wicked grin. His eyes meet mine. Predator and prey. I roll my hips and a deep moan reverberates through him. I bite my lip in attempt to hold in the smile and satisfaction I feel from his primal reaction. I gave him that reaction.

He sits up reaching for his wallet on the nights stand to retrieve a condom, I keep my body flush to his and trail kisses along his jawline. I hear the foil packet crinkle. The anticipation does weird flowery things to my heart. I should feel lucid with lust, instead I’m giddy, like I’m about to get away with tasting forbidden fruit I’ve wanted for eons.

He takes the lead, he wraps me in his strong arms and whispers the most poetic filthy things about my body. I growl and murmer my appreciation as his hands travel and explore.

I gasp as he teases my cavern with the tip. He lifts my left leg and drapes my ankle above his shoulder.

“Please Peeta, I need you. Ruin me.” I repeat some of his desires he whispered in my ear.

We share a moan as he slides deep inside me. My slick walls welcome him and the safety and confidence I feel in him, in this moment of vulnerability are not lost on me. I open my eyes search his face. Awe and wonder, probably read in my face as well. His blue eyes seem to dance with emotions. I’m so swept up in this moment I don’t try to understand it. I just grip it for dear life with my very being.

Somehow, I don’t have words, but it feels as if being reunited, being pieces together. To recognize my own heart entwined with someone else’s in an other worldly sense.

We move as one colliding and giratung, a slow and sensual dance. We are one and I am whole.

I can’t look away, I’m locked in place with his gaze and I feel like I’m soaring high above this world. “Ooooh, Katnisss you feel incredible.” Peeta groans as his low baritone vibrates into my chest where his face is buried between my breasts.

I never pretended to understand love, but the depths of affection I’m pouring out as waves of pleasure wash over me forces me to recognize that this might be similar.

I should be scared. I should hide and escape the intensity, but I’m not strong enough. I can’t escape how deeply he’s rooted himself in me. Someone who became a very part of my being a long time ago.

The tension in the air and friction our bodies create hurl us forward, we dive and dip, faster and harder. He murmurs filthy things in my ear as he pulls me on top of him. His expression euphoric, jaw dropped, eyes nearly rolling back in his head and filled with emotion. I ride him until we’re tumbling into oblivion. I collapse on top of him as he mutters broken obscenities into my neck, sputters and grunts that indicate his release. I continue to squeeze and milk him deep within me until I know he’s finally sated. I catch my breath and let out a light chuckle, relief and happiness revealed. Peeta wipes away the tears that escaped my eyes mid-orgasm.

I sigh. My hands lazily roam over his shoulders and the plains and dips of his chest. He holds my gaze and flashes a shy crooked smile, wraps me in his warm embrace and pulls me tight. He smooths a lock of hair out of my eyesight and studies my eyes and face for ages. I wish I could read his expression, or the look he’s giving me but I can’t place it. I also haven’t seen him in a very long time.

There’s so much I want to say to him but words elude me.

You’re the one I’m on fire for.

You left a mark on my heart and memory forever.

I don’t believe in soulmates but this is making me rethink everything I thought I knew.

Don’t ever let you me go.

Peeta holds tighter to me as if I am something precious he could lose. My heart melts, I’m putty in his hands.

The fear of parting ways grows heavy on my heart. I don’t know how to fight it, but if we don’t talk it may strangle me from the inside.

“Do you–”

“Where do–” we speak at the same time then laugh nervously.

“Where do you call home Katniss? I know you’re here on a business trip like I am.”

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #savvylark writes

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everlarkedalways · 5 years ago

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Welcome to the The Hunger Games Renaissance. I wanted to highlight active authors and writing blogs who are currently writing, creating, inspiring and posting. Check out, read, comment, like, reblog and follow these people! It’s how our fandom lives on!

THG Fanfiction Resources or Prompts Blogs

@everlarkbookclub

@everlarkficbackfriday

@everlarkficexchange

@everlarkficquestions

@everlarkprompts

@everlarkbirthdaydrabbles

@everlarkbirthdaygifts

@talesofpanem

Active Writers:

@alliswell21: Alliswell on AO3;

@archersandsunsets: Embers

@awhiskeyriver: Amelia Day on ao3 I am working on the Panem Nightlocks Series, Leave of Absence, and some new works :)

@awkwardeverlark: Here’s Cavedweller if you want to add :)

@butrfac14: heilb on AO3. Here’s a link to Look What Happens When You Agree To Babysit. I just posted the last chapter of Proving Them Wrong.

Buttercupbadass on AO3 (No Tumblr)

@chele20035: I’m actually working on my old fic, Brokenness....

@creamytinydays: Evvykurler on AO3; I’m active, with drabbles on tumblr and longer works posted on AO3, such as my complete multi-chapter Fluffaccino.

@dandeliononfire: dandeliononfire on AO3;

@deinde-prandium: I'm definitely still kicking (and screaming) but I do consider myself to be an active writer, yes. Just glacially slow ;)

@everlarkrealornot: katemiller on AO3

@everlarkstoastbabies: OfPearlsandShoelaces on AO3.

@flame6696: Embers

@finnicko-loves-anniec: Gamemakers on AO3 and FFN; My current WIP is Quicksilver

@historywriter2007: historywriter on AO3: I’m an active Everlark Author. I have a few WIP’s but I’ll post the last story I finished. The Banana Bread

@hpfanonezillion: HPfanonezillion on AO3 See Right Through My Walls

@hutchhitched: Hutchabelle on AO3; Find my fics on the sidebar of my blog as well.

@javistg: You can find most of my fics HERE. My latest update was the newest chapter of One Victor. You an also find my canon compliant post Mockingjay snapshots HERE.

@justajjfan: juststella I'm here and actively writing Everlark and posting updates when I can on AO3. I have 2 current WIP's - Duality and The Quiet Boy.

@katnissdoesnotfollowback: I am still actively writing and posting Everlark both here and on my AO3 account. Current WIP that I’m focusing on is the Outside Chance Series.

@louezem: still here, never left!

@lovely-tothe-bone: LovelyToTheBone on AO3 Feast Your Eyes

@mellarkablegirl: It’s comparatively fresh but I’m back to writing and my WIP and drabbles are in my blog @mellarkablegirl Also it’s linked to my Ao3

@michbigbagofweird: Bigbagofweird on ao3. It’s just one story. Seeking Single Blond Baker.

@mtk4fun: I just began posting a new multi-chapter fic called A Bump On The Head. You can find it on FF.net and Ao3. I also wrote an original romance story that will be published this fall in an anthology, Weird and Wonderful Holiday Romances.

@norbertsmom: Here’s a link to my most popular fic based on kudos. Peeta Hits the Jackpot. I’m norbertsmom on FFN and Norberts_Mom on AO3.

@panemposts: Notanislander on FF and AO3

@papofglencoe: 🙋🏻‍♀️ not dead yet! (Might pull through) Papofglencoe on AO3

@peetaspikelets: Pikelet184 on AO3; I’m still active, just not as much as I once was. Still working on my latest Everlark fic I did for fic exchange.

@ra3lynn3: Still here 🙋🏻‍♀️

@rosefyrefyre: Still writing fic, though concentrating more on original these days.The fic can be found here, the original can be found here.

@rosegardeninwinter: rosegardeninwinter on AO3; I post small drabbles here on tumblr: you can find them on my blog under #cate writes. I’m also on AO3. My current WIP is The Light and the Red.

@safeinpeetasarms: mrsbonniemellark on AO3; Sexiled is my most popular fic for sure and I’m working on the next chapter I promise!!

@savvylark: SavvyLark on AO3; WIPs are Heartbreakers, Crush It, and Feast Your Eyes

@shesasurvivor: It’s coming in spurts, but I still consider myself active. Probably my most popular WIP is The Tigers Come at Night, and my most popular oneshot is far and away Getting There.

@shining-city: shiningcity on AO3/FFN; My current WIP is Revolutionary. That, along with my completed works, are on AO3 and FF.net.

@sohypothetically: I still write and post. I'm not quite as active about fandom stuff, but I'm always up to reblog something interesting! And I love to promote/reblog good writing! Also, @ms2sl is still active.

@starsmahogany: starsmahogany on AO3. Fire Without a Flame

@tindomrl: I have a series of ongoing one shots on A03 called "Low and Soft"; however my current WIP is my Pink Rabbits series, about an all female-Hunger Games. the first story called "Dance of the Earth" follows the events of the first book in SC's original trilogy!

@wendywobbles: wendywobbles2016 on AO3; I’m currently working on a modern Everlark story with some ballroom dancing for added sparkle😊😊Let’s face the music and dance

@wingletblackbird: Thanks for the mention! Yes, I'm still active. Just writing really slowly now that I'm working two jobs. I was working on the next chapter to A Father Figure the day before yesterday, in fact.

Thank you to everyone for sharing and creating! If you missed the original post about actively writing, please reblog with your current WIP and AO3/FFN link if you’d like to be added.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlark fanfic #fanfic #thg #the hunger games #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #katniss #peeta #fanfic authors #fanfiction authors #fandom life #fandom

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betweenribbonsandrainbows · 5 years ago

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Dear savvylark, You are an amazing and cherished friend and I wish more people could see that. Whether it’s with art or writing or sending friendly messages, your presence here is loved. Warm hugs and a sturdy snow shovel for you! Here’s hoping spring comes soon. 💖

@savvylark

#savvylark #anon #love note

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mega-aulover · 5 years ago

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My Brother’s Bride🎄

Chapter 12

This is the last chapter before the epilogue. I wanted to take the time to thank everyone who has read this story and took five seconds to review, like, add to favorites, or stopped by on Tumblr and hit me up with a note. Special thanks to @historywriter2007 for betaing and allowing me to bounce crazy ideas off of her. I'm looking forward to collaborating with you on a few story ideas. Special thanks to @savvylark for the beautiful banner that inspired me while writing the story.

The tree lighting ceremony is upon them, will Katniss follow-through? Will Gale marry Delly? Will Flavius and Belle foul up all of Finnick's hard work?

Finnick watched from his perch. He couldn't believe his eyes.

Katniss stood in front of the mirror her hands ghosted over her dress. Gone was the girl with the blood-stained clothing. This girl before her was alight with the fire of love and the Christmas spirit. Her hair was left down and the dress made her look regal, her smile was brighter than the sunlight.

"I wished I looked like you," Prim whispered.

"Actually Lil' duck I wish I looked like you." Katniss wrapped her arms around her sister.

"You both look so wonderful," their mother whispered.

There was a knock on the door. "It's probably Gale," Katniss said heading for the kitchen. Opening the door, Katniss was surprised, "Madge!"

READ MORE HERE AO3 & FFN

#MY BROTHERS BRIDE #peeta and katniss #Katniss Everdeen #PEETA MELLARK #DELLY CARTWRIGHT #gale hawthorne #finnick odair #Boggs #Angels

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beckyike · 5 years ago

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Thank you Everlark fanfic writers!!

You are truly awesome, sharing your works with the world, free of charge!! You have no idea how happy your stories have made me, either lifting my spirits when I was down or just providing me with entertainment. I just wanted to thank you all.

I have not always posted comments, mostly because I really did not think anyone cared about what I thought. But the last few years, I have been trying to leave a comment on everything I read, especially to let you know how much your writing is appreciated. So happy Fanfiction Writers Appreciation Day!

@geekymoviemom @norbertsmom @booksrockmyface @jennagill @mockingjayflyingfree @notanislander @wendywobbles @butrfac14 @chele20035 @justajjfan @javistg @buttercup-badass-everdeen-blog @burkygirl @hpfanonezillion @titaniasfics @sponsormusings @greetingsfromthenorthernsea @thegirlonpeetamellark @alliswell21 @sunsetsrmydreams @savvylark @dianaflynn22 @dandeliononfire @peetasbunmyoven @peetabreadgirl @maxwellandlovelace @mtk4fun @muttpeeta @badnovels @streetlightlove1 @katnissdoesnotfollowback @thegirlonpeetamellark @papofglencoe @historywriter2007 @pookieh @xerxia31 @jlalafics @mega-aulover @peetaspikelets @gabzep @lvfics And I am sure that I am leaving so many other talented writers out, and I am sorry about that. Thank you all for making so many of us readers happy!! ❤❤❤

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javistg · 5 years ago

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I did it!

I reached my Camp Nano goal!

This year, I wrote:

The Hunting Partner, a new snapshot for my growing back together series.

Two new chapters of One Victor

And a birthday drabble I’ll post on the recipient’s birthday (which is next week).

After going through such a long dry spell this year, I’m feeling really good about myself right now. 😊

Thank you @papofglencoe, @savvylark, @butrfac14, @aihodineverlark, @peetaspikelets, @ally147writes, @hutchhitched, @katnissdoesnotfollowback, @alliswell21, @booksrockmyface, @xerxia31, @lovely-tothe-bone, @dandeliononfire, @justajjfan, @geekymoviemom ,@mega-aulover, @norbertsmom, @historywriter2007

And everyone else who joined in my writing sprints and shared all those awesome word counts and snippets. I love that we get to do this together. ❤️

#camp nano july 2019 #I did it!#summer writing #writing sprints

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everlarkficexchange · 6 years ago

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A Bite of Inconvenience

Written by: @katnissdoesnotfollowback

Prompt 131: Submitted by @amazinglovers747. Visual Prompt. Text: 4 ½ stars out of 5. Delivery time stated between 45 to 60 minutes but it was delivered within 25 minutes. This was a bit of an inconvenience as I was balls deep in the wife at the time.

A/N: This is an outtake of sorts from my story Case of the Honeymoons. I’d been contemplating writing it anyways after the original post this prompt is based on wandered across my dashboard. When I saw this pop up as an @everlarkficexchange prompt…well I had to snatch it up and fulfill it. The muse ordered it, hot and piping fresh. You can find the rest of the story HERE if you’ve not read it. Except for the 7th and final chapter which still isn’t written. Working on it tho. I tried to write this outtake in a way that you can still enjoy if you’ve not read the other chapters, although some of the inside jokes and running gags may not register.

Thank you to @javistg and @xerxia31 for all their hard work in organizing this event and taking care of all our whiny writerly questions. You ladies are rockstars. Also to @savvylark for pre-reading this one for me and making sure it wasn’t just a jumble of smut. ;)

RATED E for PWP… as in Plot? What Plot? There’s no plot here. Or maybe it stands for Pizza with Porn? Whatever, pick your poison on the acronym and enjoy!

WARNINGS: Contains explicit sexual content, explicit language.

Length: Around 7000 words

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For a second or two, I’m convinced that I’m dreaming. Caught between the worlds of sleeping and reality. I can feel the warmth of Katniss’ body curled around my side. Her breaths on my neck. The scent of her filling my nostrils, anchoring me to her in both my subconscious and consciousness. Waking with her beside me is still one of the best feelings in the world. Someone once told me that after a year or two, the Honeymoon Phase would wear off, and then I’d start to feel the “old ball and chain.” I’ve always hated that expression. Why marry someone if it feels like a prison? And while the Honeymoon Phase has worn off for us, in a way, after almost four years of marriage, I’m still as much in love with her, if not more so, than I was the day we were married.

Our alarm hasn’t gone off just yet so we still have time to relax in bed. My brain registers all of this, but my body lingers in dreams. Dirty dreams of her mouth sliding over my dick in unrushed strokes. Lips squeezing and her tongue flicking under the crown. I can feel each slow pass and even hear the sounds of sloppy, wet suction. Can’t stop the groan from rumbling in my throat or my hips lifting up into her. I’m rock hard and wish I could tangle my fingers in her hair to urge her to go faster, but she’s pressing soft kisses just below my jaw and whispering my name, calling me out of sleep and away from dreams.

“Peeta, wake up.”

I don’t want to. I want to come down her throat, even if it is only in my dreams. She shifts beside me and her mouth tugs on my cock. Her lips press to mine, her tongue slipping past my lips when I whimper, fighting to stay in this dream but also wanting to wake for her. It’s too much, the dual sensations of dreaming and reality. Her tongue rubs against mine and her mouth on my cock picks up speed.

“Wake up, Peeta. I’m so fucking horny right now.”

My eyes fly open then and stare into hers next to me, so close to my face, her pupils wide and dark, eyelids drooping. I can still hear the sounds of her sucking me off and feel the pressure of it. My mind sluggishly catches up to the realization that it’s her hand on me, not her mouth, as I feel her grinding gently against my hip, one leg slung over mine. My cock throbs in her grip and I hiss at the pleasure, real and inescapable.

I take two seconds to absorb our surroundings. Our bedroom. I think. It’s our furniture but the light is weird and the door is in the wrong spot.

Because it’s our house, not our apartment. We just moved in yesterday, the towers of boxes providing further evidence. I spot a bottle of KY sitting on the nightstand and then Katniss bites my earlobe.

“Wake up and fuck me,” she whispers. “Before we have to be up for the fridge.”

Best of both worlds, I realize and rise up enough to pin her beneath me, use my legs to spread hers and slide my hand up her leg slowly as she stops stroking me to push my underwear down to my thighs, just enough, wiping the lube off her hand onto my shorts. She’s already naked, and that alone would show me just how turned on she is since she rarely sleeps in the buff, if there wasn’t further proof between her thighs as well. When my fingers reach her center, I groan again.

“You woke up like this?” I whisper and lift my fingers, rubbing her arousal between them for a second.

“Yes. I’ve waited as long as I can. Enough chit chat, Peeta.” She’s right. I glance at the clock and see we’ve got about an hour before our brand new refrigerator is supposed to be delivered. I push inside her, eyes rolling back in my head as I’m engulfed in her warmth. She’s already insanely wet plus the KY she was using on me, and I can hear it as soon as I pull back just a little and she digs her nails into my ass to bring me deeper.

“God yes,” she whimpers as our hips meet. “I need this.”

I briefly wonder if she’s ovulating today. There’s something deeper in her scent and the way she’s being so aggressive, but I don’t have time to do the math before her pussy walls clench on me and she grins up at the choked noise I make. She’s just recently discovered that this drives me wild. Trying to get pregnant has only teased out and enhanced her adventurous in bed side. Like the fact that kegels actually feel really fucking good.

“Be careful with those.”

“Why?” she asks with fake innocence and bites her lip before doing it again. I grind my hips down into her and she gasps. She does it again anyways and I grab her hands, pinning them over her head, both her wrists contained in one of my hands as I start thrusting. Slow and sure, but she wriggles beneath me and whispers dirty words about wanting me to pound into her and fill her up. How glad she is that we no longer have to worry about thin walls and neighbors hearing me make her scream with pleasure.

And despite the fact that I have her arms pinned, she’s not immobilized. She uses her legs to leverage her body against me and her eyes drift shut, mouth hanging open as she moans.

“Louder, Katniss. I can’t hear you,” I tease and slide my hand up her wrist to lace her fingers with mine.

“Peeta,” she whines and her now free hand claws down the back of my shoulder, tipping me off the edge of control. I listen to her quiet gasps, the sharp slapping as our bodies collide. Fuck, I should make her come first, but reason and thoughtfulness dance away on the waves of ecstasy coursing through me.

“Gonna come,” I manage to warn her and that only makes her more insistent. She opens her eyes and orders me to fill her up, to give her my cum. Her thrusts turn more forceful and combined with her dirty words and the intense look in her eyes, I don’t stand a chance of holding out. My body seizes and all I can manage is to grind my hips against hers and hope she can find some pleasure in that as I empty myself into her. Because I’m lost.

When I finish and collapse on top of her, her fingers trail up and down my spine. She squeezes our still twined hands as I pant into her ear and whisper an apology before shifting so I can get my free hand between us.

“Your turn,” I promise and nibble on her ear.

“Stay inside me, Peeta. It’s always better with your cock inside me,” she murmurs. Her legs slide off me, giving me more room to work her clit and she falls apart in a surprisingly short amount of time, her walls clamping down on my still hard cock and making me groan at the overwhelming sensations. But I force myself to stay put where she wants me. When she’s done, we lay there in one another’s arms.

“Good morning,” I say and she laughs a little before turning her head to face me.

“Good morning. Ready to set up our house?” I can’t help the smile spreading across my face as I nod eagerly. We’ve got the whole day to unpack. Yesterday, after the movers left, all we had the energy for was getting the bed set up so we’d have a place to sleep. Sometime today we’ll need to do another round of grocery shopping for cold items. Tomorrow we both have to return to our jobs, so we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us today.

“Where do we start?” I ask after we’ve showered and dressed and eaten several muffins from yesterday’s batches at the bakery. She wrinkles her nose at her glass of water, mumbling that she can’t wait for us to have milk so she can drink her tea again.

We wind up dividing to conquer. I meet the delivery guy and Katniss hits up the grocery store. I fill a cooler with the bag of ice she brought home to keep what she bought cold until the fridge has reached the right storage temperature. “Now what?”

Now Katniss scrunches her nose at the boxes scattered around the kitchen as she folds up the last of our grocery bags she used, setting it on the stack to return to her car later.

“I’m thinking we start in here.”

“At least then we’ll be able to fix meals soon,” I agree and start up some music to listen to. We work mostly in silence, and I think we’re moving at a good pace except for one problem.

Katniss keeps distracting me. She’s pinched my ass at least three times, ran her hand over my crotch while I was stretching to get a few things on the top cabinet shelf, planted kisses on the back of my neck, flirtatiously evaded me every time I’ve tried to pull her into a more involved embrace, and whispered several dirty things in my ear.

“We’re not done yet, by the way. I’m still horny.”

“Can’t wait to break in every room of our house.”

“The sooner you get that counter cleared off, the sooner you can fuck me on it.”

I spend the day half aroused and jumpy. Almost like it’s our wedding day all over again. Each caress or teasing phrase she gives me leaves me half cocked and half out of my mind with desire. I’d really like to leave the packing for another day and just get right down to breaking in each room.

But then Primrose shows up, wielding lunch and a wreath she made for our front door, offering to help us for an hour or so. Normally I’d enjoy her company and be perfectly capable of behaving myself in front of Katniss’ sister, but Katniss keeps resting her hand on my thigh under the table while we eat. Her fingers massaging and clenching and drawing blood down my body until I’m almost fully erect, my mind inevitably wandering back to this morning and all her teasing throughout the day. I shift uncomfortably in my chair, earning a questioning gaze from her.

I scowl and glance down at my lap, but Katniss just smiles innocently at me. And then grazes her hand over me when she stands to clear her plate.

“First dirty dishes in the new dishwasher!” she declares.

“How can I help?” Prim asks when they’re done loading. I haven’t moved yet, still hiding beneath the table.

“How about you help me with the living room? And Peeta can finish in here,” Katniss says and gives me a pointed look.

“Sure,” I agree, and as soon as they’re gone, I hide in the bathroom long enough to get things under control. When I’m good to resume unpacking the kitchen, they’re clearly occupied filling bookshelves and considering which pictures should go where. With the open floor plan, I can hear every word of their conversation and smile to myself, happily staying out of the way so Katniss can have this time with her sister.

“Oh! I have a housewarming gift from Effie, too! I helped her with it.” Prim says at one point and rushes out to her car. Katniss looks wary as her sister returns with a framed picture and shows it to Katniss with a bright smile on her face. “Ta-Da!”

I cough and Katniss’ cheeks heat up at the sight of the wedding picture we just can’t seem to escape.

“She said your new home needed a gorgeously framed portrait of the two of you.”

“We have a wedding portrait already,” Katniss says, referring to the one in the living room right now. I can see it leaning against the couch, waiting for us to decide where to hang it. Your standard portrait of bride and groom right after the ceremony.

“Sure. But this one is so gorgeous, and much more personal. I helped her coordinate the matting around it to your new bedroom linens.”

“So it’s for the bedroom,” I say and slide it from her hands, smirking at Katniss a little, enjoying her discomfort after what she’s put me through all day. “I think that’s perfect.”

After all, Effie snapped this candid shot of Katniss and I in the gardens, not knowing that we’d had sex literally a minute beforehand. In fact, as Katniss once so eloquently pointed out, my dick is still inside her in this picture. You just can’t tell with the voluptuous skirt of her wedding dress covering us.

“You don’t like it?” Prim asks, and Katniss rushes to reassure her.

“Oh no. I do!”

“I’ll go put it in the bedroom and we’ll hang it up later,” I tell Prim and she smiles at me. After that, the girls finish up the living room while I get the kitchen squared away and then hook up the washer and dryer. It’s close to dinner time when Prim finally leaves, assuring Katniss that she’s got a dinner date with a friend, otherwise she’d stay to eat with us. Katniss walks Prim out to her car and when she returns, flops on the couch with a groan.

“I am not up to cooking tonight.”

“And after all my hard work setting up the kitchen despite numerous distractions,” I tease.

Katniss opens one eye to scowl at me. “We could just order a pizza.”

“Pizza sounds good,” I agree and she heaves herself off the couch to join me in the kitchen. Opening the Domino’s app on my phone, I start building our order.

“Mushrooms. I want something with mushrooms,” Katniss says as she stands in front of me, pulling my phone down so she can read the order upside down.

“Bossy.”

“I just know what I want,” she murmurs and slides her hands up my sides then back down again, making me pause to glance at her before submitting the order. I hope they’re fast tonight so we can eat and then I can make love to her on the counter I cleared off today. Then maybe on the couch if she’s feeling up to it. I can feel the resurgence of arousal.

“There. I got you your mushrooms and black olives,” I tell her. Then the estimated wait time pops up on screen. “Forty-five to sixty minutes?”

“Seriously?” she says, sounding as peeved as I feel. I try to shake it off, though.

“Guess we’re not the only ones who don’t feel like cooking in this neighborhood tonight.”

“I can’t stand the thought of opening one more box. What are we gonna do for that long?” She huffs and then grins at me.

“A whole hour,” I agree with a smile matching hers and she pulls my phone from my hands, tossing it aside before winding her hands around my neck and playing with my hair. I shiver in delight as I rest my hands on her hips.

“Wanna see how many times you can make me come in an hour, Peeta?”

“Fuck,” I mutter.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she whispers right before she brings our lips together.

We’ve been trying to get pregnant for awhile now, and sometimes I feel like we’re having sex as part of a routine, but other days, the spontaneity still strikes hot. Today is clearly one of those days.

We move together and Katniss shoves at my shirt until it’s off and on the floor. Our mouths join together again in desperate moans and sliding tongues. I tear at her belt then push her shorts down. As she steps out of them, I whisper to her that I can’t wait to fuck her in every room of our house.

“We’ll start in here,” I murmur as I kiss her neck and she tips her head back to give me complete access. I scrape my nails up her thighs, enjoying the way that makes her shiver. Then I slip my hands inside her panties to grab her ass and pull her close, so she can feel how hard I am already. “You’ve been teasing me all day.”

“I told you I was horny,” she complains. I push her back, one step at a time as I kiss her mouth and drink her sighs. She squeals a little when her back hits the counter.

“And yet you still blush over that picture,” I say before pushing her panties down, following them down her legs with my mouth. When I stand back up, she’s arched towards me, palms flat on the granite surface. I lift her up and her eyes fly open as I plant her ass on the counter and kiss her again, step between her legs and caress her thighs, her hips, her back. My hand brushes my phone and I smile as I break the kiss, hand it to her. “Set a timer for me. Forty minutes gives us time to make sure one of us is presentable enough to greet the pizza guy.”

I suck on her pulse point, she shudders but taps on my screen as I run my hands over her, massaging her breasts over her shirt and kissing all over her neck and ears. She’s almost rocking back and forth and cursing at herself as I slide the straps of her tank top off her shoulders. She moves her arms enough to pull them free of the straps, glaring in annoyance at my disruption of her task. Her bra goes next, tossed aside on the kitchen floor next to her panties.

“Stop distracting me,” she growls, setting my phone aside.

“Turnabout’s fair play,” I murmur and shake my head and bend her back enough so I can massage and suck on her breasts, sucking moans out of her chest. Moans that make me throb and close to just plunging in and selfishly taking.

“Oh god,” she moans and runs one hand through my hair, lifting her knees to embrace me. When I have her squirming and pleading, I move on, letting my hand wander down to her labia as I kiss her mouth, stealing both of our breaths.

“I’m gonna start right here,” I murmur. She whimpers at my touch, her legs spreading and pushing her hips forward on the counter. Almost falling off the edge. “Careful. Maybe it’s better if you just hold still for this.” Grasping her hands, I plant them on the edge of the counter and then return my fingers to trace her lips. Set one hand behind her ass to hold her in place. “So fucking wet.”

“Oh fuck, yes,” she moans, hips moving a minuscule amount as I trace over her folds, dip inside just enough to trace the inner folds. “Peeta.”

I turn my head and nibble on her ear as my fingers part her, then slide inside to the sound of her soft gasps. “Wet as rain for me. Katniss, I wanna lick this up next.”

“Yes,” she pleads and arches her body, pressing her breasts into my chest. I tickle and stroke, savoring the hot feel of her on my skin as she lifts higher, her mouth widening and her breaths shortening.

“But your first orgasm tonight belongs to my fingers,” I whisper and slip a second finger inside her. She grinds her clit into my palm. I can see her thighs clenching with the effort to hold still as I slowly fuck her with my fingers. Pull out and trace her juices over her lips, up to her clit where I brush the pads of my fingers over her again and again.

“More. I need more, Peeta,” she pleads. This time I start with two fingers in her and pick up the pace. I can feel her tensing and hear the lifting pitch of her moans. My fingers scrape soft, spongy flesh and she cries out.

“You’re ready now, aren’t you?” I whisper. “Ready to fall apart at the slightest touch.”

A third finger and I curl them up, touching deeper and faster. It’s almost harsh as her spine bows and I breathe deeply in the crook of her neck. Kiss along her shoulder then back up. I can smell her arousal too and whisper that my tongue gets her next orgasm.

She yells an indistinguishable sound and her body jerks. Just once before she holds still as her pussy releases more of her wetness into my palm then clenches my fingers in a steady pulse. I keep thrusting them, sucking on her neck and then holding her tight, feeling her pulse thundering under my lips and against my chest. My fingers get to feel the pulse of this release but my body already knows the feel of her on my cock and fuck do I want it. I’m breathing harsh as she grabs hold of my neck to steady herself.

“That’s one,” Katniss gasps when her breathing evens out a little and she lifts my phone off the counter. “And we still have thirty-five minutes.”

“That’s a good pace. Think you can handle seven more?” I ask and slide my fingers from her, smile at her juices coating them.

“That one was easy. I told you I’ve been low-key turned on all day. You’re gonna have to work for the next one,” she teases as she tugs playfully on my belt loops. But her bravado fades as I trace her lips with my fingers, painting her mouth with her own release. She’s still staring up at me, a little stunned as I suck the rest off my fingers before cradling her head in my palms and kissing her to get the rest off her mouth. When I lift my head, she looks dazed and not nearly as sassy as she did just a minute ago.

“Second one’s always the easiest to get from you. And it’s gonna be in my mouth,” I say and then drop to bury my face between her thighs supporting them with my palms so she doesn’t fall off the counter. She curses and her palms smack onto the solid surface behind her as I tongue her clit then swirl my way inside her pussy, groaning and heady with delight. My ears ring with the sounds she makes, ecstatic and frantic. Her entire body shudders as she wraps herself around me, my name a warble on her lips as her release courses over my tongue. I kiss her clit as she mumbles and then stand up, cupping her ass in my hands and pulling her back to the edge of the counter. “Two. If you want my cock next–”

I don’t get to finish. She has my clothes down my hips and on the floor in seconds, hopping down to help me step out of them and then hopping right back up, splaying her legs, her pussy parting for me. I tease her folds with my tip, determined to make this good for her, but then her soft keening as I slide home drives me to the brink.

“Fuck, such a warm welcome,” I whisper as she clings to my neck and squirms against me. “Gonna be fast if you don’t stop that,” I warn, but her eyes, a gray fog of need, challenge me.

Pulling back, I ram into her and she groans, her nails digging painfully into my neck and scalp. I have to hold still for a moment to regain control, my hand clenching on her hips as she wriggles to get me seated better and lights dance behind my eyelids.

“Again, Peeta. Please.”

Her desperate tone is the end of me. I only get a few sharp thrusts in before I know for sure that I’m gonna lose it too soon like this. Her walls grip me with each thrust, like her skin can’t stand to lose the contact with mine. Her soft pleas for me to fuck her harder make my head spin. The sounds of slapping skin and sucking wet flesh are nearly my undoing and she complains when I pull out. Clings to me when I lift her off the counter and carry her back towards our bedroom.

She kisses and nips at me as I go, demanding that I move faster and finish what I started, so many dirty phrases about needing me inside her that weaken my knees and my resolve. By the time we reach the bedroom, her lips are on mine again, her tongue demanding satisfaction. I’m forced to move based on touch to lay her out on the bed, following her as we kiss and she writhes on the cool cotton sheets. I fondle one breast, swallowing her moans as I pluck the nipple into a hard peak until she’s arched beneath me.

I could take her like this, facing each other, but that usually takes longer to get her there. I have no idea how much time we have left and my phone is back in the kitchen.

Rising up, I tug her to the end of the bed and flip her over, urge her to get up on her knees. I massage and spread her cheeks as she moves, tilting my head to watch her pussy take my cock as I slide in, smooth and easy.

She sings out a string of filthy words and grips tight to the sheets as my hips meet her ass. Her moans only get louder and filthier as I move, grabbing ahold of her hips and driving myself into her. Watching us fuck is such a high, a deeper layer heaped on top of the sensations.

But she begs and I can’t deny, bending forward so my chest is pressed to her back and I can get my fingers on her clit. My lips on her neck. I keep this up for a bit, but I’m still in trouble.

I’m getting close again, too fast as I feel my balls tighten and I curse, shoving her forward with too much force and not the results I planned. She face plants in the mattress, her ass in the air and my cock still inside her. With another curse, I pull back. She shouts in protest as I bend over and spread her enough to get my mouth on her.

I’m drowning in her pussy, my mouth and nose filled with her desire. Her sounds filling my ears and taunting my body. The air cools her juices on my cock and I shiver but keep licking and sucking, thrusting my tongue in her then laving her clit before sucking on that too while she grinds herself on my face and her hands claw at the bed.

She starts mewling then chanting the word “yes!” And then her entire frame shakes with impending release.

“No! Fuck! Peeta, I want you to come with me,” she demands as she moves to separate us. I wipe her off my face and lay on top of her. My cock brushes through curls and finding her soaked lips once more, I slide right back in. When I kiss her shoulder, she turns her head. Thinking she wants a kiss as I start pounding down into her, I join our lips. But she pushes me back and shakes her head.

“Up,” is all she says, but I think I get the idea, going back to standing at the edge of the bed with her in front of me. “Yes.”

I don’t let up then, gathering some of her hair in my hand for leverage as I feel sweat trickling down my temples. Down my spine and tickling between my cheeks. The sounds reverberate a little off the still bare walls. I feel release building at the base of my skull, driven higher and hotter with each sharp thrust I give her and each plaintive cry she gives me.

The doorbell rings and Katniss wails.

Wait.

I stop and she groans in frustration. “I was so fucking close! Why’d you stop?”

“I thought I heard the doorbell.”

She shifts to look at the bedside clock and shakes her head. “It hasn’t even been thirty minutes yet.”

“Are you sure?” I ask and she pushes back into me. “Yes. Now make us come, Peeta.”

I start moving again, slow this time. Uncertain. But her insistent movements beneath me make it impossible to stay that way and within seconds, my thrusts are hard enough to make her ass shudder with each one, and the sounds of our bodies colliding, of my balls smacking into her, ring through the room again.

“Yes! Close! Almost–” Ding dong! “Fuck!”

I slow down this time. “You heard it too, right?”

“I don’t fucking care. Don’t stop,” she groans and pushes herself back on me. I try to pick my pace up and Katniss arches her body. I can feel her tensing in anticipation.

That’s when the knocking starts and Katniss groans. I pull out of her completely this time, my cock leaping in denial, my balls screaming at me to get back in there, because I was damn near close, too.

“Okay someone is definitely at the door and isn’t going away.”

“It better be the pizza. If it’s a neighbor, we’re moving,” she practically snarls. “After we egg their porch.”

Her cheeks are flushed and her hair’s a mess. There are bite marks and suction marks all over her neck and shoulders. She looks sexy as fuck. A living wet dream. There’s no way I’m letting some random stranger see my wife like this.

“Be right back,” I tell her as I stumble back into the kitchen. Whoever it is is still pounding on the door. “Coming!” I shout as I pause long enough to get my jeans and shirt back on, laughing humorlessly at the irony that actually no, I am not coming the way I’d like to be. I grab my phone off the counter as I head to the front door and stop the timer.

25:59.

“Fucking hell,” I mutter and pocket the thing as I open the door. “Sorry. Unpacking, moving furniture,” I excuse to the guy who nods and extends the boxes with the receipt on top and a pen. The delicious smells waft up to my nose and my mouth starts to water, but my brain’s caught in a schism between this food and Katniss back on our bed.

“Just sign here, my dude.” I sign and try to give the guy a pleasant farewell as I take the boxes from him. But I’m still rock fucking hard and my jeans are chafing things that are used to a layer of cotton underwear protecting them. Not to mention I’m still covered in Katniss and both of us had a perfectly spectacular orgasm ruined by this guy’s delivery speed.

I shut the door and carry the food to the kitchen, startling when I see Katniss in the hallway that leads to our bedroom. She’s put on clothes and is scowling.

“We’re definitely cursed,” she says.

“What?” I say with a half laugh as I set the pizza boxes on the counter.

“I was in the bedroom, staring at that damned picture from our wedding day and thinking about all the times we’ve been caught, interrupted, photographed, or had something disastrous happen, et cetera, since we got married.” She lifts her hand and starts ticking them off. “Our wedding day when Effie photographed us immediately after. Our wedding night with the neighbor and the candles and the fire alarm.” I can’t help laughing a little.

“Pizza?” I say as I flip open the lid, because food is the best way to help Katniss get thoughts straight in her mind and I have got to hear the end of this. It’s not the first time she’s suggested we’re cursed but if it’s going to be a recurring comment of hers, I’d like to know what she means. She doesn’t answer, but lifts a slice of mushroom and black olive straight from the box, taking a huge bite and cupping her hand under her chin to catch the strings of cheese.

“Then our honeymoon,” she continues before even swallowing.

“Ah yes,” I say and nod my head.

“With my twisted ankle and your burned butt. The fiasco with the picture reveal when we got back from our honeymoon. That time in the bakery–”

“That was your idea,” I remind her and she shakes her head.

“When ‘just a quickie’ turned into half a day’s worth of destroyed work for you. Last Christmas,” she doesn’t finish but I remember. It’d be hard to forget my oldest brother walking in on us trying something new… That was also the first time she mentioned this idea about us being cursed. “Rye’s engagement party last month? When everyone just knew what we’d been doing upstairs–”

“The hickey on your neck sort of gave us away.”

“The point is, before we got married, we got away with this shit all the time.” She takes another bite and gestures wildly. “In college…how many times did we make out with Johanna asleep across the room?”

“She would have high fived you for that if she knew. Actually, she probably did know.” Katniss ignores this, the volume of her speech rising to cover my commentary.

“Or fucked in my car parked in places maybe we shouldn’t have? We tried some crazy things with the bedsheets and that one time when you did that thing with my vibrator, and we never got injured or anything! Or what about that time in the movie theater?”

“Well this conversation is not helping me get rid of my erection,” I say and start working on my own slice. We manage to eat one slice each, and are starting on slice two when she picks the topic back up again.

“I’m serious, Peeta. We’re cursed and I think–” she stops talking and her eyes go wide. “Haymitch! When he stepped on my train!”

“That’s ridiculous,” I tease and she shakes her head.

“It makes perfect sense! He somehow cursed us when he stepped on my wedding dress! That bastard. I’m going to–” I fling my crust into the open box and grab her, tossing her over my shoulder. “Peeta!”

“What makes sense is finishing what we started now that we have some food in us,” I tell her. “Clearly you need another orgasm or five to clear your head of this curse nonsense.”

“I still have pizza in my hand!”

“Finish it before we reach the bedroom because your mouth will be too busy for eating in about thirty seconds.” Her answer is muffled and I laugh as I imagine her stuffing the rest of her slice in her mouth. “We’ll heat the rest up to eat it later. Then I’m giving that driver a terrible review.”

She laughs as I toss her on the bed. “That sounds like something I would do, not you.”

“He tested my limits, ringing the doorbell when I’m balls deep in my gorgeous wife,” I say as we start flinging clothes until we’re naked again. This time, I take off my prosthetic too. Within what feels like mere seconds, we’re laid out on the bed, her mouth busy just like I promised, her hands roaming over my back and shoulders as we kiss, her foot sliding up the side of my leg then back down. We’re in no rush this time. No timers to beat. So when I lift my head, she sighs instead of protesting. I trace her bottom lip with my thumb, wondering how I got so lucky. I don’t feel cursed at all. Quite the opposite, as I nuzzle her nose with mine.

“I wanna see your eyes when I come inside you,” I whisper, prompting her to open her eyes and the look in them floors me. So much love that I’m not sure I deserve it. And I wonder if she’ll look at our children with just as much love. I hope she does. “Maybe it’ll stick this time.”

I can’t help the hopeful note in my voice as she places her hands on my cheeks. I move to kiss her again and it registers too late that she was about to say something. I’m already deep into the kiss before I think to be polite and ask her what she was going to say.

“It can wait. Now deliver on your promises, Peeta.”

I grin down at her and watch her eyes as I let one hand caress over her body, take a meandering path over dips and rises, soft curves and puckered nipples. Down around her navel and finally between her legs. She swallows as I touch her, closes her eyes for a second as her hips undulate softly into my hand, once more coating my fingers in her need, drawing them deeper inside her. I watch her eyes darken and fog over with desire, sharpen when I find a spot or rhythm or pressure that she favors.

Eventually she whispers to me. “I need you inside me.”

Her body bows and flexes beneath me once were joined, presenting her breasts to me and I can’t ignore them, massaging and caressing all over her torso as I move inside her. Unhurried, leisurely touches that linger and heat. I feel torn in two in a way. Part of me wanting the fast and frantic with quick gratification. The other part wins out as she grasps at my arms and begs me down to kiss her. That’s the part that never wants this to end. The part that’s content to feel her surrounding me, welcoming me and loving me as much as I love her.

“Peeta,” she says softly when our lips part and I rest my forehead on hers, hips still rocking between her legs as she licks her lips and seems to come to a decision. She takes a deep breath and pulls me down to whisper in my ear. “I love you. And I want to spend every possible moment of the rest of our lives together. Now, like this. With our children, and after.”

I feel like I should stop, but she looks so earnest and the shuddering breath she takes when I start moving again seems to break the damn as she spills forth fears and hopes and happiness. Usually her words during sex don’t wander into such emotional territory. I’m reeling from it all and am barely able to focus on my pleasure, so much that I’m actually stunned when she scrapes her nails down my arms and arches beneath me.

“Oh god I’m gonna come. Peeta.”

I whisper her name and return my own hopes and fears to her ear, unsure if she even hears them over her own moans. And when she crests, she’s the most beautiful thing in the world, gray eyes locked on mine with stunned pleasure and love swirling together and singing off her lips. It only takes another two thrusts with her walls clenching me and then she claims my release right along with my hopes and my love.

We lay there, still joined at the hips and caressing over skin shimmering with sweat. Katniss kisses along my jaw and then plays with my hair while I keep my face hidden in the crook of her neck, lips just barely touching her skin as a content warmth washes over me.

In the morning, it’s actually surprising how easily our routine from the apartment adapts to the house. I’m up, showered and dressed before Katniss wakes and I get breakfast started. While I’m cooking, my phone reminds me that I can review the driver from last night. I open the app and fill out the form. I start with four and a half stars and glance up at the hallway as I hear water running. Katniss must be awake so I get her tea started. Then I contemplate my review. The pizza was delicious, even warmed up later on, and normally I’d be thrilled with the early arrival. Even though we eventually were able to finish, it’s still annoying me for some reason. Katniss’ words about how it’s something she would do, not me, still tickle at me, almost goading me into doing it, and for once, I decide to just go for it. Besides, the high star rating will show that I’m not really complaining.

Delivery time stated between 45 to 60 minutes but it was delivered within 25 minutes. This was a bit of an inconvenience as I was balls deep in the wife at the time.

I’ve just got her tea ready and my review posted when Katniss walks into the kitchen, still in my t-shirt, a pregnancy test in her hands and a wide smile on her face. She just stands there, silently radiating joy as my brain leaps straight into the sky.

“Is that…? Are we…?”

She nods and tears well up in her eyes. She flings herself into my embrace as I make a choking noise of joy and hold her tight. We stay like that for a long time. I’m probably going to be late for work, but I don’t even care. I just want to live in this moment for as long as I possibly can. We’re having a baby. That alone should suffice as an excuse for being late to work.

And I may need to revise that review…

#Springtime Edition 2019 #submission #katnissdoesnotfollowback #amazinglovers747 #prompt 131

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savvylark · 6 years ago

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Crush It - chapter 8

This story started with the prompt: “You’re my crush’s sibling and I started dating you to piss off my crush and make them jealous enough to confess feelings for me, except you’re actually really sweet and awesome and I think I might like you better, and I don’t know what to do now that my plan seems to have worked.”

An Everlark Summer College AU. Huge thank you to my Beta, the legend, my personal friend @katnissdoesnotfollowback who this story was written for. Her advice and incites are invaluable. When I was discouraged she nudged me and motivated me. Also shout out to my new friend @butrfac14 for pre-reading this. And thank you to the talented @akai-echo for this beautiful banner!!

Rated: M or maybe E for dream smut and future Everlark steaminess.

Read it here on Ao3 or

As I drive home in a figurative fog, the emotions I've been repressing have clouded to the surface, a storm builds inside me. Echoing how I feel in unexpected solidarity, light water droplets pepper my windshield. When I first formulated my plan, I planned to date Peeta, casually, so as not to hurt anyone… and it seems I've hurt everyone, especially myself.

Lightning flashes as the song playing on the car radio croons on about a crush, of all things. The sound is vaguely familiar. Though I haven't sung a note since my dad passed years ago I find myself humming along.

The lyrics express the exciting hesitant eye contact, the sighing, the blushing, the curiosity and want for more. That's how I felt about Rye. An emotional reaction. A fleeting thrill. We were both interested in the other's attention. What it did to boost the other's ego. It felt good, exciting. Temporary.

The cold reality washes over me.

As the radio shifts to a song with more depth, a raspy voice confesses a deeper love.

The damn inside me breaks.

Tears roll down my cheeks and I'm forced to sort out my feelings.

Peeta and I looked out for each other. Had our own lives, our own interests. We confided in each other, opened up about real things and shared hardships in our past. He paid attention to the things I cared about, and what would fit into my busy life as well as his own. We looked out for each other. There was a healthy give and take. It seemed to come so naturally. We just fit. Whether consciously or unconsciously, I was slowly falling, with each caress, embrace, hand squeeze. In our comfortable silences. We were living life together side by side. A unified front.

I do have some lingering questions that confuse me. How much of it was Peeta merely playing along to help me make Rye jealous? How much of it was real?

I started to hope the things were real for him. The things he said the night he fought with Rye might have meant...but now I don’t know. He could have said those things in defense of a friend. Maybe I heard it all wrong.

The beautiful melody and lyrics prompt a memory I’ve tucked deep in my heart for safe keeping, I remember my father's face.

His dark hair hung over his forehead and eyebrows, knitted in concern or concentration, his jaw clenched and eyes squinted. Then my mother seemed to float by, a flutter of silky flowing golden hair and creamy pale skin. She wrapped her arms around my father and murmured sweet reassurances in his ear. His steely gray eyes softened and seemed to sparkle as his whole expression loosened all tension. His shoulders relaxed and his strong arms wrapped around my mother. He held her tightly as if she was giving him strength, re-energizing him. He sighed and swayed with my mother in his embrace to the music.

Then, as if he was actually in the car, a voice over the radio becomes my father's singing voice to my ears. Painting beauty in my mind's eye, a deep rolling vibrato rumbling in my chest, resonating out and swirling through the car back to me. A precious sound I treasure and keep locked away. Conjuring up the memory of the look in his eyes, the unmistakable expression of love on his face when he would sing to mother.

Sweet moments with Peeta Mellark come flooding back. There's a big difference between a crush and the way that Peeta has deeply rooted himself within me. I gasp when I finally recognize the sound I barely recognize myself. It's my own voice echoing back to me.

I hate to cry, but for some reason I don’t fight it. I let the tears fall and as if I willed it to, the light tapping of the rain on the car increases and pours down. Lighting flashes again, the thunder roars, and rumbles deep in my chest, drowning out my sobbing.

It's almost cathartic, the earth and I are in agreement. Crying out together, alone.

I revved the engine, water splashing, lightning flashing. A hazy watercolor scene of blues, grays and flickers of blinding bright lightning.

I make a split second decision and u-turn, gunning my car back to the bakery. Back to Peeta.

I have to tell him.

I screech to a halt, bolt out of car and feel the water soak my clothes, but somehow I don’t feel cold. I feel red hot. I sprint through the metallic and glass bakery doors. I’m flooded with hope at the sight of Peeta’s smiling face. I speak the words in my heart. The muted and muddled colors seem to pale and gray around me. His blue eyes look pained as his brows raise and lets me down gently. He was helping me make Rye jealous.

He only ever saw me as a friend.

Nothing more.

I turn over and gasp for air, then bury my face in my pillow and scream. I’ve had this dream a few times now. It seems to start out with true events, driving in the rain through tears as the radio plays.

I never turned around that day, but I dream of the ‘what if.’ What I find through the bakery door changes with each dream. I find Peeta kissing the blond he was with, I find him angry with me, and one instance that I cherish, he runs out before I reach the doors and kisses me in the rain.

It's Monday morning, or is it afternoon? I stand, rub my eyes and study the clock. I would normally be late for my second job by now.

As if life would ever relent in the roller coaster that this summer has been, last week my fatigue and an itchy throat came at me full force. My mom urged me to get checked out, and sure enough, the blood test came back positive: mononucleosis.

I was forced to quit my second job because of exhaustion. The fall semester is approaching, so I convinced Sae to keep me on the schedule at the diner, even if all I can do is four hours shifts, and then rush home to collapse into bed. She instructed me to wash my hands every chance I can and keep my mouth shut as much as possible. “I'm sure that will be difficult, I’m known to be so warm and talkative, Sae.” I rolled my eyes and then shrieked as Sae snapped her towel at me for my sass.

Adding insult to injury, Gale's various texts informed me that Rye was also bedridden with mono. Another reminder of the kisses we shared. I collapse in a heap on my bed and sigh into my pillow.

My days and nights are so mixed up. I've barely left the bed on days that I'm not scheduled to work. I'm fatigued all the time and pathetically weak. I hate being weak.

My eyelids grow heavy. In a sleepy daze, I distantly hear the rattling of the loose front door knob. Prim cheerfully greets someone at the door and eventually two muffled voices echo from the kitchen. The deep timbre I hear almost sounds like Peeta's, but that can't be right. “I love his warm laugh,” I mumble to my empty room as I drift back to unconsciousness.

As I feel a blanket being tugged over my body and a kiss planted on my cheek with a brush of stubble, I smell baked bread and a manly scent that bring me warm feelings. I grip the soft cotton fabric tightly and beg for the feeling, the sensation of home to stay. I feel moisture escape one of my eyes.

I hear a raspy whispered reply and I'm engulfed in a haze of warmth, sweet aromas and a sense of belonging.

I drift off in a blissful sleep thinking of deep blue eyes and orange sunsets.

I wake and it seems to be the middle of the day. I look next to me and muse, “I love dreams when I find myself wrapped in Peeta's arms.”

I gently reach for his hair and sink my fingers into the soft blond waves. I remember noticing these ashy blond strands in a couple of college courses we shared, and I couldn't help noticing the way his biceps protruded when he would stretch. I kept thinking he was out of my league, and I was right. I gently scratch at his scalp and study his profile through weary eyes.

“I do too.” He sighs, slowly opens his eyes, he tightens his hold on me, and snuggles a little closer into my chest.

My breaths becomes out heavier, my heart beats a little faster. I relish in the feeling of Peeta's body against mine.

“We need to eat. I'll make dinner soon.” I mumble.

“Not too soon alright?” His voice has a husky sleepy quality. His kind eyes meet mine and plead with sincerity, “Just let me take care of you for awhile.” I nod with a small smile.

This is such a nice dream. I feel so warm inside. Cocooned safely, wrapped in hope and light.

“I'll wake up any minute and he’ll be gone. He won't be mine. I’ll wake up alone and cold,” I think. The agony and longing in my heart causes me to wrap tighter around him.

“I'm so tired, Peeta.” I trail kisses across his jaw and whisper secrets in his ear. Words of longing. I confess that I think of him all the time and keep dreaming about him. I even blurt out that I was thinking about him when Rye kissed me, wishing it were Peeta instead.

“Every love song on the radio is about you.” I hum a tune, and sing the melody softly. He looks at me with surprise, happiness and opens his mouth to say something but closes it, looking curious, but almost afraid to say anything. Peeta sighs and holds me tighter.

I whisper, “I know I don't deserve you.” A tear slips down my cheek. All words I would never be brave enough to speak face to face to a living breathing non-dream Peeta. More tears seem to prick my eyes as I bury my face into his neck and inhale his scent, sweet bread and dill from baked goods.

“I'm sorry I ruined it Peeta, I'm sorry for everything.” I admit pathetically, and I drift back to sleep.

I turn over and open one eye. I'm alone, as expected. I wrap a blanket around myself to follow the banging pots and chopping noises in the kitchen. Prim’s happy chatter causes me to search the clock, 5pm. I squint. Does mom have a short shift today?

Two blond heads are bent down chopping vegetables and chatting in our tiny kitchen.

I do a double take because the second head is taller, and much broader than my mother.

I think I know why Peeta's here: I'm in trouble!!

I slap a hand over my forehead, “It's Monday isn't? I'm sorry Peeta! I didn't mean to bail on our hiking plans.” I grit my teeth and cover my eyes. Of course I'm already ruining our fragile newly established friendship.

Prim laughs, “Katniss that was hours and hours ago. I told him how exhausted you've been and,” she smiles at me with mischief in her eyes, “how much nicer you are lately. You don't scowl as much! You're just sweet and pitifully tired.”

If I had more energy I would say something sarcastic, or at least make a face. Instead I just slump in a chair at the kitchen table wrapped in my blanket.

Prim smiles at me and tells me Peeta had her practice driving in an empty parking lot, he taught her how to parallel park. She's so excited to get her licence soon. She casually mumbles something about groceries.

“That's nice.” I remark as my head lobs forward. I give up, holding my head up is far too much work. I rest it in the crook of my arm on the table. Stifled laughter follows.

The laughing might be about me but I don't have the energy to care.

“Do you need anything for your throat?” Prim asks me, I open one eye to look at my amused sister with sweet baby blue eyes. “We picked up lozenges for you.”

I bob my head and close my eyes, just for a moment...

I turn and find myself wrapped in steady arms. I burrow in and inhale the calming scent.

I’m gently placed on my bed and my arms wrap around Peeta, I look up at him with blurry eyes. Things I want to ask him, things that I want to say linger heavy in my chest.

Why are you still here? Why are you taking care of me?

And of course the guilt.

I’m sorry.

His blue eyes twinkle as he looks at me, a crooked smile on his face.

I’m sorry I kissed Rye.

He motions to pull away and I shake my head and cling to him. “Just-- Will you talk to me?” I ask in a small voice. I shift and pull him to me, he groans but relents and shifts beside me.

We lay beside each other in silence, all my thoughts bubble and boil to the surface until I just blurt it out all at once “I didn’t do that on purpose, that wasn’t my plan to, er--” I sigh and try again, “I kissed Rye and it was a mistake. I didn’t… It didn’t…” I lower my head and hold my face in my hands with a discouraged sigh. I feel Peeta’s comforting hand lightly rub my back in circles.

“Katniss, it worked. Rye was jealous and he stopped stringing you along and admitted he liked you. He stepped it up because you reacted tactically, you faked left and gained the edge and you had him in a half Nelson-- exposing but not pinning. Most girls would go in for the take down, once they have him, they pin him…”

I shake my head and blink a few times. “What?”

Peeta sighs, shakes his head, scratches under his jaw and tries to explain again. “I already talked to Rye, I know you don’t want to be with him. You got close enough to know that he isn’t right for you. Thanks for putting my brother in his place. I think he needed that lesson,” he smiles sadly, “and I got to know you.” Peeta squeezes my hand and lets it fall.

“You say things when you’re tired. I don’t always know what’s real and what isn’t, but I’ll find out,” he whispers and I stare at a spot on the wall as my mind races, trying to imagine what that means. Did he hear me talk about my dad? Did I talk about Peeta in my dream about him?

“Don’t worry about it now, okay?” he says. I nod and stretch out, so that we're both lying in my bed facing the ceiling, and Peeta pipes up, “So tell me the story of how you won Lady the goat for Prim?”

His blue eyes are intent to listen, as I start in with how excited Prim was to see the goat at the fair. Peeta takes my hand in his and playfully draws shapes on my palm that make me... Well, warm, relaxed, and nervous I guess? Because it's hard not to concentrate on the gentle caresses across my palm.

“...and I looked at the target and thought, ‘well that can't be too hard.’ Sure enough, Gale would have scoffed at my so-called-competition. I basically had none. I found a pink ribbon at another booth for the goat to wear before I showed my sister. The best part was the look on Prim’s face.” Peeta’s blue gaze meets mine and my heart skips a beat. I bite my lip and attempt to divert the conversation.

“I knew that goat could be a gold mine, you can make a killing with goat milk at the farmers market. We've done pretty well.”

“Right, and it had nothing to do with how much you love your sister and her happiness?” Peeta asks in a teasing tone, his eyes gleam.

His fingers continue to trace each of mine and with gentle strokes in soft slow movements. I'm nearly taken adrift, lost in the sensation. I find my eyelids growing heavy, gently lulled to sleep. The kisses on my cheek slightly tickle.

I barely breathe out the word “Stay.” A pathetically vulnerable plea, but I just want him with me. I feel like everything is going to be alright with him near.

His sexy breathy voice does things to my insides that make me squirm and breathe heavier, “Always.”

His warm plush lips land on my cheeks. I feel his lips reach below my ear, then linger on my neck, a hum trembles deep in my throat. “That's not a friend thing to do.” I mumble, though I can't fight the tug of a smile I feel on my cheeks.

“Huh?” he asks, all too innocently and kisses my neck again.

“In the bakery, you said we were just friends.” I murmur drowsily.

“Friends, for now.” Peeta whispers just before I'm taken under the heavy nothingness that is a sound deep sleep, wrapped in safety and warmth.

“I just don't know why Peeta would want me to go to the zoo with his sister-in-law and nephews Saturday.”

Prim looks at me like I'm an idiot and throws a kernel of popcorn at me. I wince, turn my head and laugh.

“Why would he come by almost all week, knowing you would be a walking zombie, just to be with you?” she asks.

“I don't know, maybe he feels like he owes me because I helped him when he had a concussion?” I answer, frustrated.

“Katniss, you're oblivious sometimes, but not this bad. What's your real deal here?”

“Don't know, I'm scared? This is nothing like the way I felt about Rye, or any other guy for that matter. I think he's seeing a beautiful blond, and Rye did tell me Peeta had a silver tongue.” I huff, I’m getting frustrated and exhausting myself by over thinking.

“Did you ask him if he was seeing someone else?” She asks, her eyes twinkle in a way that tell me she finds my frustration funny.

I sigh and shake my head.

“And he's an amazing guy, I'm selfish, impulsive, brash…” I trail off and don't admit my fears about it not being real, he’s so kind to everyone. That doesn’t mean he feels the same.

We gather the popcorn bowls and set them on the coffee table, and then pile pillows in spots where people might want to lounge on the floor for our movie, because we only have one couch and a chair in our small living room.

“And what if those are things he wants? You're fierce, assertive, protective of those you love, and you jump at the chance to do what is right. Plus, you're beautiful, his eyes follow you when you're not looking.”

I start shaking my head because Peeta doesn't feel that way, and I'm plain looking. But those kisses on my neck and his words, “For now…”

Prim looks at me seriously, “He's so in tune with you, Katniss. He knew just what you needed when he planned this movie night!”

The bell rings and at the door I'm met with Finnick, Annie, Gale, Madge, and Peeta's smiling faces.

“We brought Pizzas!” Finnick announces, holding the hot boxes above his head as if dramatically bestowing a gift. Annie rolls her eyes and steps in to hug me and place the boxes on the counter.

Peeta has a way of making everyone feel comfortable in a group. The way his eyes crinkle in a genuine smile and how humor and hidden genuine compliments just roll off his tongue he makes everyone feel appreciated and keeps the conversation flowing without dominating it.

I made it halfway way through the movie before my eyelids felt too heavy. My head started to nod, as I fought to keep eyes open.

Peeta opened his arms I started to slump towards him and snuggled into his warm soft sweatshirt. Enjoying his comforting scent and the safe feeling of his arms wrapped around me as my eyes slid shut.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #savvylark writes #crush it #peeta and katniss #with a rye crust #there are no Ryes in this chapter #summer college au #college au #summer lovin #had me a blast #mononucleosis #the kissing desease

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kakiross · 5 years ago

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Bold the Fact (Tag Game)

Thanks for the tag @thewritertiffany <333 I was tagged in another thing and I’m going to do it right after this, promise!!

Tagging: @georgiacwritblr @bookishdiplodocus @hell-yeah-fantasy @touchingmadness @mareebrittenford @papofglencoe @itsatimeforwolves @lovelytothebone @savvylark @dandeliononfire

Rules: Bold everything that applies to you and tag 10 people you’d like to know better.

APPEARANCE:

I’m over 5′5 / I wear glasses / I wear contacts / I have blonde hair / I prefer loose clothing to tight clothing / I have one or more piercings / I have at least one tattoo / I have blue eyes / I have dyed or highlighted my hair / I have gotten plastic surgery / I have or had braces / I sunburn easily / I have freckles / I paint my nails / I typically wear makeup / I don’t often smile / I am pleased with how I look / I prefer Nike to Adidas / I wear baseball hats backwards

HOBBIES AND TALENT:

I do or used to play a sport / I can play an instrument / I am artistic / I know more than one language / I have won a trophy in some sort of competition / I can cook or bake without a recipe / I know how to swim / I enjoy writing / I can do origami / I prefer movies to TV shows / I can execute a perfect somersault / I enjoy singing / I could survive in the wild on my own / I have read a new book series this year / I enjoy spending time with friends / I travel during school or work breaks / I can do a handstand

RELATIONSHIPS:

I am in a relationship / I have been single for over a year / I have a crush / I have a best friend I have known for ten years / My parents are together / I have dated my best friend / I am adopted / My crush has confessed to me / I have a long-distance relationship / I am an only child / I give advice to my friends / I have made an online friend / I met up with someone I have met online

AESTHETIC:

I have heard the ocean in a conch shell / I have watched the sunrise / I enjoy rainy days / I have slept under the stars / I meditate outside / The sound of chirping calms me / I enjoy the smell of the beach / I know what snow tastes like / I listen to music to fall asleep / I enjoy thunderstorms / I enjoy cloud watching / I have attended a bonfire / I pay close attention to colors / I find mystery in the ocean / I enjoy hiking on nature paths / Autumn is my favorite season

MISCELLANEOUS:

I can fall asleep in a moving vehicle / I am the mom friend / I live by a certain quote(s) / I like the smell of sharpies / I am involved in extracurricular activities / I enjoy Mexican food / I can drive a stick-shift / I believe in true love / I make up scenarios to fall asleep / I sing in the shower / I wish I lived in a video game / I have a canopy above my bed / I am multiracial / I am a redhead / I own at least three dogs

#yikes at relationships #my scribbles #tag game

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geekymoviemom · 5 years ago

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I was tagged by @my-new-dream-is-you and @ferretshark thank you both so much!💖 💖

Author Name: geekymoviemom

Fandom You Write For: MCU, The Hunger Games, and I have a few Star Wars ideas that I’ve been kicking around, we’ll see if I can work up the courage 😬

Where You Post: AO3 and FFN under the same username

Most Popular One-Shot: What’s In A Name?

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story: Sins of the Fathers

Favourite Story You Wrote: Oh wow, that’s hard! I love writing baby Peter, so What’s In A Name was very fun. Actually, my entire Superfamily series Pieces of Echoes has probably been my favourite so far. I’m just a sucker for those three boys 💖.

Story You Were Nervous to Post: um... all of them? 😉 Probably my very first IronDad story Mr Stark was my most nerve-wracking. The MCU fandom is HUGE, and it took a lot of working myself up to start posting in it.

How Do You Choose Your Titles: Honestly titles come pretty easily to me. Sometimes I use song titles or lines from songs, other times I use more obscure titles that have meaning later on in the story. Now summaries... that’s a whole other story 😬

How Many Stories of Yours Are:

Complete: 14

In-Progress: 1

Coming Soon: A toddler Peter one-shot, a new Superfamily multi-chapter, and maybe a Reylo one-shot if I can work up the nerve.

Upcoming Story You’re Most Excited to Write: my Superfamily multi-chapter. I’m really, really excited about the ideas I have for it 😎.

Do You Accept Prompts? Sure!

Tag Five Fanfic Authors: I’m guessing most of you have been tagged already, but @frostysunflowers @savvylark @reachingforaspark @awkwardeverlark and @trichoglossus 💖

Thank you so much, this was fun!! 💕

#thank you!#fanfic tag game #geeky gets personal

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katnissdoesnotfollowback · 5 years ago

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Sneak Peeks - ish??

“Post the first paragraph of your last six ongoing projects, then tag six people to do the same.”

I was tagged by @javistg, @hutchhitched, @peetaspikelets, and @rosegardeninwinter for this meme.

Okay so those instructions are maddeningly vague and open to so much interpretation. Does that mean the first paragraphs of the last six projects I’ve started or that I am currently working on? Even if it’s a paragraph that’s already been shared and/or posted? A work that’s been finished??? So do I post the very first chapter of the very first chapter of Outside Chance? Or do I post the first paragraph of the next chapter to be posted? What if the first paragraph I have written is absolutely not going to be the first paragraph of the chapter once it does post because sometimes I write out of order? Also does the Outside Chance universe count as one project or three??? I am probably over thinking this, lol. Ya’ll are just gonna get six previews from six different stories and have to be happy with that.

Also, given the length of time that has passed since the first tag, and the fact that in my mini hiatus four people tagged me, I’m only tagging three people in an attempt to not double tag or offend someone because you’ve already posted previews and I didn’t see it because hiatus. Sorry if I manage to do so anyways. @savvylark @ra3lynn3, and @safeinpeetasarms...have at it.

Language and ... innuendos below the cut. ;)

Outside Expectations Chapter 22:

“So… I guess this is when you give me that talk about stepping up and being the man of the family, huh?”

“Maybe leave that to Dad or Gramps for now,” Graham says, ignoring Ryen’s snort at the mention of Bram. “But Peeta’s still gonna need you.”

Ryen sniffs loudly and Graham scowls. “You’re not doing drugs on top of underage drinking and sleeping around, are you?”

“Graham,” I hiss and he shakes his head at me. While I know Graham’s always walked this strange line between being older brother and occasional stand in father to them, this isn’t the time to exert that authority and interrogate Ryen.

“Nah, that’d be dumb. Unless I wanted to get kicked out of FIS. And Peeta will be fine eventually, as long as Katniss is still sticking her tongue down his throat after this.”

“What?” Graham asks and I can’t help it, I burst out laughing.

“He finally talked to her?” I ask, a flicker of hope in my chest and Graham looks between me and the phone.

“You mean he fucking finally talked to her!”

“What are you two talking about? They talk all the time,” Graham protests and I lean over to kiss him.

“You’re so sweet,” I say and Ryen’s still laughing.

Outside Chance Chapter 28: (No, not 27 because everything I have so far, you’ve either already seen or it’s far too spoilery. So Ha! Joke’s on you.)

“What’s so funny?” he whispers and I shake my head as I turn over to face him, his arm lifting just enough to allow the change before pulling me back to him, neither of us caring about the mess we’ve made on the sheets or each other.

“I was just thinking about that year right before Graham and Savannah were married. When you and I were what? Thirteen?”

“Yeah, sounds about right.”

“They always seemed to have crazy hair and someone’s shirt was never on quite right. I didn’t get the joke back then, but now I do.”

Peeta chuckles and tucks some of my hair behind my hair. “Guess it’s our turn to be the crazy kids in love, huh?”

“I’d say so,” I say and reach out to mess up his curls beyond repair. “You get the worst of it, though.”

“Nope. We’re doing this together.” I squeal as Peeta tackles me, writhing beneath him and squealing in protest as he tickles me and pinches soft places. I manage to distract him with a kiss, but that turns heated in seconds and before I can so much as remind him that we’re supposed to be meeting everyone soon to watch Graham compete, we’re too far entwined to care about anything but this. Us.

Outside the Lines Chapter ??: Okay look, I have nothing written for chapter 11 for them, so you’re getting something very special... a sneak peek at an unspecified far in the future chapter.

“Are you ready for this?” Ryen asks as the car slows near the curb.

I snap my mirror shut and slip it into my purse, consigning my makeup job to “It’ll have to do for now,” even though the bags under my eyes are still apparent. I still feel so vain and ridiculous for buying the compact mirror at the airport, but none of that stopped me from plunking down an insane amount for it. My vanity won over my pride.

“No,” I whine pathetically and he laughs.

“Relax. It’s really not a big deal.”

“I slept like shit. I look like I slept like shit. You somehow look perfect.” Could I be anymore of a pain in the ass? Ryen’s gaze flicks towards the door as we stop. I need to reverse this somehow. Jesus, this shouldn’t be so hard. My hand flies up to the key dangling around my neck and I finger it, twisting the chain around my pointer finger and biting my lip to contain a thousand complaints, clinging to the reminder that this stupid key is supposed to represent.

A couple of drunken promises? My mind whispers and I try to silence the thoughts.

It’s not Ryen’s fault. I agreed to this trip. I could have just as easily stayed in the comfort of my apartment in Colorado with my cat and my vibrator, but nope. I agreed to go with him to the noisiest place on the planet. New York City. And the cursed place kept me awake all night. It wasn’t even sex keeping me awake, but the constant hum and sudden spurts of car engines and horns and sirens and god only knows what else. I used to think Colorado Springs was a big town until I came here, but despite its size, there’s still an almost reverential hush in the mountains compared to the absolute nightmare of noise here.

“You won’t be on camera or anything, Rosie,” Ryen tries to reassure me, but that doesn’t work either. I bite back a scathing retort about the hostess of this damn show and her penchant for clingy dresses, which normally I wouldn’t judge a girl on, because Hey! Flaunt it while you got it, right? But that was before. Before I realized that it didn’t matter if Ryen put it on a billboard in Times Square that he’s taken, I’d still be constantly dealing with people throwing themselves at him, attempting to be the next one in his bed.

The car door opens and Ryen slides out. I hear voices and move to join him. I tug and the chain starts to bite into my skin. I’m so tangled in the damn thing that when he reaches in to help me from the car, I have to reach across my body to give him my right hand instead of my left. My entire exit is awkward and I nearly faceplant.

Great first impression, Rosie.

Thankfully, it’s just her assistant greeting us. She leads us inside and I shiver slightly as Ryen’s hand rests on the small of my back. He leans in to whisper into my ear.

“You keep playing with that necklace and I’ll have a raging hard on for the whole show. On national TV.” I turn and let my lips graze his ear.

“As long as it’s a hard on for me,” I tease and tug on the key again.

“Fuck. This better be the fastest interview ever. I suddenly don’t wanna do it at all.”

“Or we could fuck in the green room before hand,” I suggest with a coy smile and a strategic twist of the key.

“Oh baby, you know exactly how to make me relax. At least let me finger you, give you that pretty orgasm blush you wear so well. No one who's been well fucked looks tired,” he whispers back. A stab at his words makes me think he’s saying I really do look like shit, and even though I know it’s the truth, I never thought Ryen would actually say it. Then he smiles as the assistant stops in front of a door and faces us. Ryen’s hand rubs soothingly over my back and I melt a little at the touch. His hand shifts to my hip, holding my body close to his, almost clinging to me, and I can see the small line of perspiration forming along his temple. Then something strange occurs to me.

Is Ryen actually nervous?

Spellbound Chapter ??: So I’ve been writing this one all over the place out of order, so I have no idea if this will even be used or when, but here ya go, proof that it’s not abandoned???... *awkward cough*

“I just think he deserves a chance at peace. To move on.”

She groans and stands, brushing dust off her hands as I look up at her, brows drawn together.

“I’ll help you with this, but you have to promise me that everything you see from right this second on is a secret. You can’t tell anyone, except maybe Prim.” Then almost as an after thought, she adds, “And Buttercup.”

“Okay,” I draw the word out. “What about Pearl?”

“Pearl?”

“The gray cat I’ve told you about?”

Katniss waves her hand and nods, the gesture careless, or nonchalant. “Yeah fine. You can tell Pearl. But nobody else, promise.”

“I promise.”

“Okay,” she says and takes my hand. We make our way down through the house and then out to the back shed. She glances back at me one more time and I try to give her a reassuring smile. “I’m gonna regret this.”

A Case of the Honeymoons Part 7:

Eventually, I join Peeta in the kitchen, just to have someone to talk to and noises filling my head while he cooks. But as we eat, he seems remarkably undisturbed by the quiet.

“It doesn’t bother you?” I finally snap.

“What?”

“The silence!” He chews for a moment and then swallows.

“I could turn on some music. Or we could talk.” He smiles, although the expression is sad and I sigh, shoving my plate back a little and crossing my arms on the table.

“We’re not doomed, are we?”

“What? No!” he says and I heave a deep breath.

“It’s just we’ve spent all these years putting the kids first so often.”

“Not all the time,” he reminds me.

“No, not all the time. It’s just...who are we without them?”

“We’re…” he trails off and seems to struggle with his words, which doesn’t make me feel any better.

“Maybe you’re not upset about them all leaving us because you got to spend so much time with them,” I accuse. It’s not fair, though and I apologize right away. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean that. Maybe I still feel guilty for not staying home with them.”

“That didn’t make you any less of an amazing mother,” Peeta insists. “Really, the product speaks for itself, don’t you think?”

“You did more in raising them than I did--” Peeta’s fork clatters to the plate and he takes my hand in his.

“Katniss, we agreed that parenting our kids wasn’t gonna be a competition. You did just as much to raise them as I did, and they love you so much.”

“I guess.”

“Look, I don’t know who we’re gonna be next or what life holds in store for us now. I guess we have to figure it out together now, right?”

“Together,” I say the word, rolling it over my tongue as I lace our fingers tightly together on top of the table.

“Together,” he reaffirms. The way we started. There’s something intriguing and maybe even a little exciting at the very idea of it. We finish dinner then, conversation flowing a little easier. Maybe it’s the promise we gave each other, that just like every other stage of our lives, we’ll face this one together, too.

After the kitchen is cleaned up, we settle on the couch. I tuck my feet up beside me as Peeta browses through our Netflix and offers suggestions. I keep rejecting them until Peeta sets the remote aside and turns slightly to face me.

“Just think of all the things we could do now without having to worry about how it affects the kids.”

“Like what? We couldn’t even agree on a movie to watch.”

“Whatever we want,” he says with a shrug.

“Like what?” I prod for examples.

“I don’t know. Sell the house, move onto a sailboat and circumnavigate the globe--”

“You get seasick,” I remind him with a chuckle but he keeps listing options.

“Buy a tandem bike--” I snort and shake my head at that.

“Dorky.”

“Couples massage.”

“I’ve never understood how getting naked in a room and then having two complete strangers touch us but we don’t touch each other is supposed to bring us closer.”

“We could try something really wild -- like becoming swingers,” he says and winks at me. I give his shoulder a slight shove and he returns to bump into me gently. “Second honeymoon?”

“I want to make sure Wren’s going to be okay for a few months before we go anywhere together.”

“Well, he plans on coming home in a week for that long weekend, right? You only have to last seven days without your baby,” he reminds me. It seems to have become some sort of mantra he chants to keep me from losing it. “So in the meantime, we could go completely wild. Sit naked on the couch, eating Cheetos and ice cream, watch junk TV and not worry whose brains we’re rotting.”

“Just our own, right? No big deal?” I tease and he laughs lightly. But then his eyes glaze over for a second and he gets this intense look that steals my breath as he takes my hand in his.

“Katniss. We could do whatever we want. We don’t even have to leave the house.”

“Whatever we…” I trail off as I begin to get the picture and he nods slowly, lips pulling up at the corner. “And as loud as we want.”

“Yes.”

I grab hold of his collar and drag him to me, pausing when our lips are just a breath away, waiting for the old familiar hunger to course through me. It does, swift and sure. I smile slightly before taking his bottom lip in my teeth and biting until he groans. “Fuck me hoarse and dumb, Peeta.”

“Right here on the couch?” he asks eagerly.

“You rebel,” I tease and he smiles, turning us to lay me down, stretched out on my back on the couch with him tucked up against the back cushions. His lips caress over mine and I slide one arm around his shoulders. His smile tastes sweet, sexy, and full of promise. I can’t help but think of how many times in our youth we were just like this, with his hand caressing over my belly just like that, up to grasp hold of my breast and knead it in his broad palm. I moan slightly at the touch. Although it’s familiar territory, it’s been a long time since we’ve had the luxury of making out like this, which seems to give it an almost new excitement.

The Baker & The Hunter: I’ve been holding onto this one for awhile and I don’t really have an explanation for that other that it was written as a present for someone, following a rather specific prompt. I dunno. But if there’s significant interest in reading the whole thing, I’ll post it. Anwho, this is one of my favorite bits (that doesn’t include smut haha).

“I was thinking... we should have our toasting. Maybe tomorrow,” she whispers. I blink up at her, speechless. “Or not.”

“No, I want to,” I rush to reassure her. But doubt and suspicion barge into my head before I can stop them. “It’s just...why now?”

“It’s not Gale,” she says and I can’t help but frown.

“Sort of feels like it is.”

“We’ve been talking about it for months and it’s spring now and I guess I just...want to make it official. Leave no room for doubts ever again.”

“Okay,” I say hesitantly.

“Maybe it is because of him a little. But I think if it is, it’s because seeing him again just reinforces what I already know.” She glances up at me, her gray eyes scared and hesitant but then she shakes her head and I see determination in her eyes as she keeps explaining. “It’s got more to do with what you said last time we talked about toasting. About me needing to leave the district and meet other people before I decide to settle down with someone.”

“I’m not making the connection here. You still haven’t gone anywhere. They’re talking about lifting the exile, Katniss. I can wait a few more years to give you the chance.”

“I know but… I don’t want anyone but you,” she vows and my heart stutters for a second then begins to thunder. “I don’t need to leave here to know that. Really if you think about it, this is just a formality.”

“How do you figure?” I ask, unable to stop the smile twitching at my lips at her vehemence.

“Because we’re already more married than any piece of paper could make us.”

“You did not just--”

“I did,” she says triumphantly and I groan. She’s a little too good at using my own words against me.

“Besides, we’ve already had a toasting.”

“I think I’d remember that,” I say.

“You do remember it. We didn’t even have to fix that memory. We were eleven. I was soaking wet, freezing and starving, digging through garbage--”

“That wasn’t a toasting,” I argue and she flattens her palm on my chest, her lashes lowering.

“Maybe not technically. But you made bread, put it in the fire--”

“Burned it in the fire.” She ignores me and keeps going.

“Then you gave it to me and I shared it with my family.”

“Well by that logic... I gave the first bite to the pig, and I didn’t eat any so...Katniss Everdeen, you’re married to a pig.”

The Midnight Train Part 2: Which may never ever get posted, given the level of mind fuckery it went down, and also because part 2 necessitates a part 3... anyways.

His head is pounding. He hasn’t smoked in weeks. Hasn’t been able to find a single damn cigarette. His hands shake as he signs his name to the affidavit.

Peeta J Mellark, alias JabberJay

Then he hands it over to the clerk who reviews it and files it. Fast and efficient. His gray uniform marking him as from Thirteen is spotless and neatly pressed.

They’ve been asking for sworn testimonies from vetted members of the rebellion. Testimonies to be used in trials of all the still living government officials. Everyone from Snow’s personal secretary to the crews who cleaned the office buildings, from Caesar Flickerman to the lowest clerk in the District Halls of Justice. A necessity, the new president had decreed, to limit the loss of life and balance it with the need for retribution.

Peeta would be on trial too, and so would Katniss, if it weren’t for Morgan Filbert and Plutarch Heavensbee swearing already that Peeta had worked as a spy for the rebellion and anyone Peeta claimed as an associate should be granted clemency as well.

He has no way of knowing what effect he’s having, spilling the secrets he so carefully collected over the years. Signing his name to them so that he can be held accountable if he lies. Will it condemn them all or just a few? Condemn himself in the process?

There was kindness in them, at times. Ignorance always. A willful desire to see the world only as they were told it was. The need to chase their own desires and whims because they were given no greater purpose. To deny responsibility for the horror that their world had become, maybe had always been. Sometimes, remembering the starving bodies in Twelve, the lines whipped into flesh, the dead eyes of his brother, is enough to strengthen Peeta’s resolve to see it through.

Other days, it feels like it will never end.

“Any more?” he asks and the clerk checks his list.

“No that’s it for today. New Panem thanks you for your service.”

Peeta stands and gathers his jacket. Brown fleece designed for warmth, not aesthetics. Winter has arrived in the Capitol. Harsh and unloving. Snow is dead. The Games are no more. Now the retribution begins. The clerk coughs and Peeta pauses, looks back at him.

“You knew a lot of them.”

“And?”

“Does it ever...feel wrong?”

“It always feels wrong. All of it.”

He leaves the room then, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he walks out into the hall. She’s waiting for him and he sighs as she threads her arm through his and walks beside him, their bodies pressed together. Silent. She usually finishes before he does then waits for him.

They huddle closer as they emerge into the cold, windswept streets. “This way. They said there was shelter available a few streets over. Better than the tent city. Closer at least. We need to find something before the storm hits.”

He lets her lead the way, his face tucked down into his collar, hoping no one recognizes him. Someone did yesterday. Peeta shudders at the memory and ignores the pain in his leg, forces himself to move faster.

“Here,” Katniss says, guiding him through a crooked wrought iron gate hanging on its hinges. Up stairs and through a front door. She shuts the door and stomps her boots on the rug.

Peeta stares at the pattern beneath his feet. Frozen. His heart palpitates painfully.

“Peeta?”

“Not here,” he says and spins to leave.

“The others on this block already have people staying in them.”

“Then we’ll go back to the tent city.”

“The blizzard will hit before we make it.”

He groans and spins again, head whirling as he takes in the destruction. The velvet drapes torn down. Half the east wall blown out, a tarp failing to cover it completely, fluttering in the cold wind. Rubbish in the hearth. Graffiti on the walls. One leg missing, another shattered on the piano, the surface no longer polished to a shine but scratched and dull. A crystal chandelier shattered on the floor, shards of it shimmering and spread in a grotesque sunburst. Couches stained, gouges in the wood.

“No,” he shakes his head and Katniss tries to touch him. He shoves her away. “No! Don’t touch me!”

Katniss gasps and recoils from him. Like she should.

“There’s nowhere else close enough, Peeta.”

He growls and paces, furious with her. With all of them. She keeps her distance and slowly, he regains control, hands raking violently through his hair. When he looks at her again, she’s kneeling in the detritus, holding a framed picture with tears running down her cheeks.

“Peeta,” she says and he shakes his head, already knowing what picture she’s holding. A man in a brightly colored suit, eyes altered to a sunflower yellow, mustache curling over his cheeks. A buxom woman with her surgically enhanced breasts practically spilling from her dress, gems embedded into the skin of her arms, violet hair and eyes. And two boys. One with black hair hanging in sharp cut fringes over one eye and a diamond nose ring. One with blonde curls.

“Peeta what happened here?”

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

Bonus! For @sunsetsrmydreams and @justajjfan, from the piece I’m working on to fulfill their winning bid on Fandom Trumps Hate...

Fickle Games:

He stands in the doorway and nods as Agent Odair asks a string of questions. Peeta nods and answers them. As best he can. There are things he doesn’t say, about what happened here and in the days after. And he doesn’t know why he holds them in, whispering secrets and lies in his brain.

He watches a team of people scour the place for evidence. The flash of cameras recording all of it. The psychologist insisting that it’s a bad idea for him to be here so soon. How much time would be enough? How much time to be able to view it without breaking into a sweat or feeling vomit rise up in his throat, he wonders. Strange thoughts assail him as they tag and photograph and bag. Yellow tape fluttering in the breeze.

Someone lifts a syringe and examines it. Peeta feels the jab of it in his veins all over again and shudders.

“What’s that? Drugs? Or something they used to keep you knocked out or docile?” Finnick asks and Peeta smiles, the memory strange and soft, despite how harrowing it was at the time.

“Not exactly,” Peeta says, thinking of those concerned gray eyes watching him, her voice almost melodic as the shock slowly wore off as his body returned to equilibrium. She kept everything covered. He knows nothing of her face or hair color.

But her eyes couldn’t lie, even if her voice did.

“Then what is it?”

“Insulin,” Peeta explains and they all stare at him. He shrugs. “I’m diabetic. Guess they didn’t want me dying before they could get the ransom money.”

That’s what he’s been telling himself for months now, but her eyes don’t lie. Or at least, he didn’t think they could. Maybe they did. The thought nags at him and he shakes it off, turning to Doctor Paylor.

“Doc, I think you might be right about that being too soon analysis.” She nods and turns with his hand on her shoulder, easily falling into step with him as they walk away from the cabin.

#sneak peeks #outside chance #outside expectations #outside the lines #the midnight train #case of the honeymoons #spellbound #so many wips #so little time

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