#sure i have to go look for the feels behind Katniss being blind as a bat

[ticklishraspberries]

Neck Kisses (Katniss/Peeta)

Summary: Peeta gives Katniss kisses over the years. (Week #4 of @august-anon's Tickletober prompts!! I've never written a Hunger Games fic before so let me know if y'all like it and/or want to see more!!)

The lights are blinding, and Katniss is struggling to keep that fake smile on her face. They’ve been standing, taking photos, being gawked at for what has felt like years.

Cinna has dressed her in gold. Peeta’s suit matches perfectly. He does look handsome, but she isn’t sure the color really does him any favors: The shimmer pops on her skin tone, compliments her dark hair and eyes, but Peeta’s pale and blonde and would probably suit silver more, she thinks. Not that she knows anything about fashion, nor does she care about how Peeta dresses. She only cares about how he’ll fight in the arena, and how his hand around her waist right now is really irritating. She wants nothing more than to shrug him off, to roll her eyes right at those cameras, to take all the stupid pins out of her hair.

Instead, she just stands and tries to look pretty.

Peeta’s head moves in her peripheral vision and she shoots him a confused glance, and then twitches when he presses a gentle kiss to her shoulder where the dress has left her skin exposed. No one has ever kissed her there, and goosebumps immediately spread over her skin. It doesn’t feel bad, but she still digs her elbow into his side in retaliation anyway, because he could have at least warned her that he and Haymitch were upping the affection quota.

When they’re finally free from the cameras and lights, and Katniss has shed most of her ridiculous outfit, Peeta comes and sits beside her, away from prying eyes.

“Sorry I kissed your shoulder,” he says, avoiding her eyes. “Haymitch and Effie have been trying to get me to…sell this whole love story thing. I should have asked you if that was okay first, I just had the idea in the moment and went for it.”

Katniss looks him up and down, the shyness in his body language and the genuinity in his tone, and her hard expression softens just a little. “It’s fine. Just…warn me next time.”

He nods, offering her a little smile. Then, after a moment of comfortable silence, he asks: “Did it tickle?”

“What?”

“When I kissed you. It seemed like it tickled.”

Katniss does roll her eyes now, ignoring the way her face feels suddenly warm under his scrutiny. “No, it just felt weird. And I wasn’t expecting it.”

Peeta has this stupid smile on his face that makes Katniss want to punch him. But, there are rules about tributes fighting, and she also doesn’t think she could really hurt him when he looks so innocent, so…She huffs and gets to her feet.

“So, you aren’t ticklish? I just think if we’re going to be allies, I should know your weaknesses, you know?” Peeta says, and he’s fully grinning now.

“Goodnight, Peeta,” she replies, refusing to turn back and let him see the way her lips have started to curl. Watching him try to find the light, the humor in this all, to get to know her even though it’s probable he will have to kill her…Well, those thoughts dampen her mood quite quickly.

The truth is, she is ticklish. Most of her experience with tickling has been her tickling Prim, and sometimes Gale tickling her, but she always fights him tooth and nail when he does it. He’s usually all rough hands squeezing her sides and scribbling behind her knees. What Peeta had done was different, it was gentle and made her stomach flutter…She supposes it would have felt nice, if they had been alone, and she had known he was going to do it, and could have prepared.

She falls asleep trying to ignore the little voice in her mind that wants him to do it again.

***

The sound of birds chirping outside the window is what wakes her.

Katniss blinks against the sunshine seeping into the room, and settles comfortably into Peeta’s arms that are wrapped around her waist. The morning is still, the children still sleeping instead of climbing into their bed with excited babbling as they do most mornings.

Peeta begins to stir beside her, and Katniss finds herself smiling as he nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck. “Morning,” he mumbles.

“Morning,” she replies softly.

Peeta’s lips press a soft kiss to the skin of her shoulder, and then continues to pepper those little kisses up to her jaw and back down again. She’s giggling in seconds, having been unprepared for such antics so early. She’s still stubborn as she was as a scrappy teenager in the Seam, and normally when Peeta tickles her, she holds her laughter in and fights back, turning the tables or running off into the grass. She doesn’t have that chance now, lovingly encased in his arms and still too sleepy to launch an escape plan.

She doesn’t even remember the first time he pressed his lips there, back before the first Games, on that stage with the blinding lights. That feels lifetimes away, has been buried under much worse memories, forgotten. They are making new memories now, better ones.

“Peeta, we’ll wake them,” she says, trying to keep her giggling to a low volume.

Peeta just grins. “They’ll be up soon anyway.”

And with that, he starts tickling her belly with ten fast fingers, and Katniss has no choice but to dissolve into laughter. It isn’t long until the children are roused by the sound, curious as to what their mama could be finding so funny.

Now, she starts her day with genuine smiles, laughter, and love.

[danisbrainrot]

reader calming down johanna during quarter quell and the others are like wtf

johanna mason x reader

the thick hot blood had you blind, choking and running around like headless chickens. johanna screamed, her hand reaching out for yours; your hands were already full, unfortunately. between your large knife and wiress' hand, you couldn't console johanna as she grew more panicked.

she grabbed the back of beetee's neck, dragging him through the forest, while you held tightly onto wiress and ran. the blood wasn't slowing down, instead pouring even harder.

suddenly, you heard the screams of johanna's district partner and turned around. you and johanna began calling for him—you even turned around and tried to follow the direction the sound had come from; after a minute of silence, everyone heard the sound of a cannon and jumped out of their skin. he was gone forever.

the group of four finally made it to the beach, you snapped your head to the sound of someone running up to you and calling out your name. still running on adrenaline, you held out your sword—ready to swing—before realising that it was finnick as he shouts, "johanna!"

"finnick!" she cried, you both lowered your weapons before she ran up to greet him. sheathing your sword, you swiftly made your way to johanna's side, hugging finnick tightly; you were glad to see another person you could consider your ally.

you spot katniss and peeta hiding in the trees; noticing the absence of mags, your heart sinks as you realise that one of the cannons you'd heard from before must have been hers.

the moment of relief passes when finnick was joined by the two figures who were hiding in the foliage, "rain started. thought it was water at first. turned out to be blood. thick and hot. we were choking, staggering around blind," johanna answers, talking quickly, "that's when blight hit the force field," she shakes her head, trying to hold the tears back. "he wasn't much, but he was from home."

you reach out for her hand, and she looks down at it at first, before sighing softly and taking it—she offers you a weak nod.

"what's wrong with her?" katniss asked, nodding at wiress. you shrug, looking over your shoulder to see the woman mumbling something to herself.

"she's in shock. dehydration isn't helping," betee replies, taking his glasses off to clean them.

johanna looks behind her, yelling at wiress, frustration evident on her face, when katniss shoves her to get her to stop. "hey!" johanna cried, shoving her back, "I got her out for you!" your eyes widen as you realise what johanna was saying.

you grab her by the arm, softly dragging her to the water. she grumbles, wanting to swing at katniss, but you sigh and shake your head. "you know what she means. you can't just hit her because she's annoying," you explain, wincing at the cool feeling of the water.

you only went to your waist, before dunking your head underwater and scrubbing the blood off your body. johanna does the same, mirroring your movements. as she washes out her hair, you pull her into a soft embrace, nuzzling your face into her neck and sighing. "this is so unfair," you mumble.

she hums in agreement, tentatively placing an arm around your waist and pulling you in closer. she hated being affectionate in public—she felt weak and vulnerable knowing that snow would target you next if he knew. she supposed it didn't matter much anymore; you either both died in the arena or you ended up in district 13—and johanna was going to make sure that you made it out of the arena alive.

katniss nods to where the two of you were standing, "what's going on with them?" she asks finnick.

he sighs and shakes his head. "you and peeta aren't the only star crossed lovers forced to compete against each other," he replies, digging his trident in the sand.

"but they're from different districts," katniss states, hoping for further clarification. peeta also looks up, squinting at finnick as he waits for finnick's answer.

finnick snorts, betee and wiress also smirk knowingly at each other. "doesn't matter to them, they make it work," his hand shields his eyes from the blaring sun, as he watches the two of you kiss passionately in the water.

it was such an intimate moment, that they all turn away and talk about something else, hoping to give the couple privacy—well, as much privacy as you can for someone being constantly filmed for the capitol's entertainment.

[brella]

Peeta pov "She came here with me." ? or him planting the Primrose for her. ?

Haymitch had thought, at first, that he was joking. Peeta can hardly blame him. Who with half a brain would expect the truth from a Tribute? Joke or fable or bald-faced lie, it’s all the same—a good story on Caesar Flickerman’s show is the surest way to get sponsors. Only, Peeta could come up with better stories, and better lies besides, than being in love with Katniss Everdeen.

You’re a good showman, I’ll give you that, Haymitch had said, once he realized that Peeta was serious.

Peeta’s skin had crawled under the soft lighting in the suite. Making a show of what he felt for Katniss seemed immoral, somehow. It was meant to be a whisper under an oak tree, shaking hands and secret wants—not a tool, not a spectacle. Then again, he knows he’d never have the nerve to say it to her face. On live television, to an indifferent Panem, is much less frightening. And even though it’s sooner than later that he’s six feet under (as the old song goes), he doesn’t want that secret to be buried with him.

So: a show it is.

Caesar is almost blinding to look at in person. His immaculate wig, his sun-white teeth, his spray-tan and the baubles on his suit: Capitol excess incarnate. But he’s easy to talk to. Most people are when you’ve got years at the register under your belt, when saying the right thing to your mother could spare you a bruise—Caesar, though, is something else entirely; he’s got a kind of charisma that could stop Death itself for a minute or two. Peeta can’t help but study him. Everything is measured, everything has value: timing, cadence, eye contact. It’s easier to mirror than Peeta expects.

“Tell me,” Caesar says, once the pleasantries and banter have run their course. “Is there a special girl back home?”

Even though just about every Tribute, every Games, gets that question from Caesar, Peeta has to wonder if Haymitch had pulled some strings. His pulse quickens with anticipation, but he keeps his cool. Be coy. Build suspense.

“Nah,” he says, slipping in a little of a District 12 drawl. It makes for a bashful tone. “Not really.”

He has to make it obvious he’s fibbing, but not too obvious. He ducks his eyes, focusing on the tips of his shoes. Patent leather. Probably cost enough to feed a family. Have other Tributes worn these? Surely the cost would make it impractical not to reuse them.

“No? I don’t believe it for a second! Look at that face!” Caesar exclaims. “Handsome man like you…”

Oh, Peeta thinks. So I’m a man now.

“Peeta.” Caesar leans in, so congenial, so inviting. Behind his charming eyes, though, Peeta sees nothing. Nothing to recognize or remember. “Tell me.”

Now is the time. Make them ask you twice before you answer. Peeta can feel the audience’s attention, swelling in the room, almost symphonic.

“Well, there, uh…” He pauses, gathering his guts. That’s where the best acting comes from, he’s found: truth. “There is this one girl that… I’ve had a crush on forever.”

Crush—so half-baked, flourless—but he knows the Capitol will eat it up. Sure enough, Caesar nods his head, eyes twinkling.

“But,” Peeta goes on, “I don’t think she actually… recognized me until the Reaping.”

That, too, is the truth. Why should Katniss remember him at all? She had lived—she had not died. That was all that mattered. What she remembered from that rainy day, he expected, was the hunger—a kind of hunger he had never had to know.

What he remembers is her face—clearer than his mother’s fists, clearer than the pain.

Clearer than any pain in the world.

“Well, I’ll tell you what, Peeta,” Caesar says—almost encouraging, like an uncle giving advice to his favorite nephew. It’s the first time in the interview that Peeta has felt genuinely, truly sick. “You go out there, and you win this thing—and when you get home? She’ll have to go out with you.” He turns back to the audience, drawn by the sound of applause. “Right, folks?!”

There’s that laugh of his: brassy, gleaming, perfectly rhythmic and perfectly pitched. Peeta’s body wants to laugh along, purely on instinct. He lets a fraction of it through. Just a fraction.

“Thanks, but, uh… I don’t think winning’s gonna help me at all.”

“And why not?”

Here. Right here. Peeta’s breath shakes on its way out of him, hollow at the center. How to answer? How to explain to Caesar Flickerman, to the glittering Capitol, to the Districts who couldn’t give a damn about him—how to explain Katniss Everdeen’s braid in the sunlight on the walk to school, the gentle clarity with which she’d sung the Valley Song, the sight of her and Gale Hawthorne and their pocket-knife-smiles in the schoolyard, the devotion that she had to her sister, the calluses along her fingers from a bowstring—how to make them understand the constant, quiet heat of her, and all the winters of life through which it had kept him warm?

This is the time to be exact. A sound bite is worth a thousand speeches. If you’re gonna do it, Haymitch had said, with a kind of cutthroat pride, do it so it breaks their hearts.

“Because she came here with me,” Peeta says.

[ellanainthetardis]

Something I love about the 74th Reaping: 

Sure you can take it straight as Katniss tells us and conclude Effie is just a bubbly dumb empty-headed drone and Haymitch is just a drunkard who’s “disgusting” and pathetic but... If you read between the lines... 

I don’t think Effie is flustered because she doesn’t know what the protocol is for a volunteer or because she doesn’t know what to do. I think she is flustered because she’s really good at reading situations and she can feel the situation is about to slip out of control (and Haymitch is drunk, which means she’s on her own because I don’t think she would trust the mayor to help and she’s responsible for the Reaping going smoothly probably since she’s the Capitol representative here) which is why she reaaaally goes slick on the bubbly cheerful act. To me, she doesn’t read cheerful, really, she reads a little panicked. She’s good at reading the room and 12′s audience isn’t exactly supportive or happy. 

As for Haymitch, he only steps forward and makes a big spectacle of himself when the tension is at its paroxysm and everyone in 12 is doing the fingers salute, refusing to applaud, being very quietly rebellious... He steals the spotlight from Katniss, makes it all about himself, brings the eyes on him, goes as far as attacking the Capitol by pointing straight at the camera... And then promptly falls off the stage, breaking the tension off, making himself the comic relief, turning himself into the joke victor of Twelve, offering the perfect distraction for Effie to spring the rest of the Reaping along... Even drunk, he knows it’s too dangerous and Katniss is going to be in the Capitol’s bulleye if this goes on too far... I’m so 100% sure he did all of that on purpose... 

So, yeah... One interpretation is to take the text as literal but, honestly, you can’t convince me that it wasn’t Effie and Haymitch playing the games, doing what they do best, being a team. 

No this post had no other point than gushing over my favorite characters...

And we’re not even talking about how the first thing haymitch does when he goes on stage all confused (probably because he was dragged there by peacekeepers instead of his escort) is to hug effie like it makes perfect sense to his confused drunk brain. “a big hug”, Katniss says. I say it must have been a hell of a hug to tilt that wig to the point she has to hold on to it later XD Oh the lectures that must be happening off stage later on... 

[jlalafics]

“Operator”-an Everlark Ficlet

For @mrspeetamellark, who wanted “Peeta’s dirty filthy sex talk”. Enjoy!

Katniss couldn’t believe she was doing this.

Delly had convinced her that this would broaden her horizons.

Apparently, that’s what she needed after a dumping such as hers.

Her year-long relationship with Cato had ended with a bitter fight and him telling her that she was bore in the bedroom. Then, he promptly informed her that he was moving out of their apartment to shack up with Clove, a little beast of a woman who had clawed her way up into Cato’s penis.

That was fine. The relationship had been going downhill months ago.

However, this was kind of a new low for her.

She went to the mirror in the corner of her bedroom, looking at her reflection and wondering if the black nightie was necessary.

Then, pouring a glass of wine from the bottle on her bedside table, Katniss pulled out a card with the scantily clad man on it and dialed the number.

It rang a twice.

She told herself she would hang up on the third, when someone suddenly picked up the line.

“Hello?” came a smooth, deep voice.

“Hi,” she croaked out nervously. “This is stupid.”

The man on the phone chuckled. “I hope not. It’s how I make a living.”

“Oh hell—I’m sorry!” Katniss slap her palm to her forehead. “I’ve never done this before, but my friend suggested it as a way to help me discover ‘my sexual goddess’—whatever the fuck that means.”

“Sounds like you’ve been going through something,” the man replied. “Want to tell me about it?”

“I’ve been living with my ex for a year and he just dumped me for a girl who will let him put it anywhere he wants.”

“Ouch. Sounds like a real charmer.”

“You bet,” she responded wryly. “I’m not too sad about it. I’m more insulted that he thought I was boring in bed. I mean, I would’ve let him put it anywhere, but some foreplay would’ve been nice. Also, being completely silent while I’m pulling out the big guns didn’t help.”

“Some guys expect women to just automatically go for anything,” the man said. “But I find that, in healthy sexual relationships, there has to be an equal amount of give and take.”

“Exactly!” Katniss took a sip from her glass and sat back against the pillows of her bed. “You seem like a decent person. Why are you working on a phone sex line?”

“Because I enjoy it,” he told her simply. “Also, this is just an evening job.”

“So, it’s like a stripper at night and paralegal by day kind of thing,” she replied.

The man chuckled. “Kind of. I have a pretty standard office job.”

“Me, too.” Katniss took another sip, her nerves beginning to relax. “So, how do we do this?”

“Let’s start with your name,” he told her.

“Katniss.”

“Katniss,” he repeated.

His voice tightened at the last bit of her name and she straightened at the change of tone.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No, it’s just a very different name,” the man said. “But very pretty. I think I’m going to like saying it into your ear as you come.”

Her nipples immediately tightened at his words. “Oh yeah?”

“Yes.” He laughed roughly. “What pretty little thing are you wearing for me?”

“I knew you were going to ask that, at some point.” Katniss fingered the strap of her nightie. “I’m wearing a black nightie with lace along the top.”

“Sounds lovely,” the man replied. “Tell me; do you feel uncomfortable taking instructions?”

“Depends.” She smiled into receiver. “What are you going to tell me to do?”

“Give me a name,” he told her. “A name that means something to you. A name that turns you on. But I don’t want you to say it until you come.”

“Alright,” she agreed.

There was only one name that Katniss wanted to say.

He, however, was unattainable.

“Close your eyes.” His voice was low, and the timbre instantly electrified her…down there. “I can tell that you’re analyzing every single part of this call…what I must be thinking about you…what I look like—am I right?”

Katniss giggled. “Exactly.” She sighed and closed her eyes. “I closed them.”

“I think that you’re a brave woman who’s taking control of her sexual life.” The man breathed against the receiver and Katniss shivered imagining his warm breath against her ear. “I’m blond, average height, with blue eyes. Imagine me in your mind.”

Katniss took a deep breath, the image of a man forming in her head. She saw him, undoing her favorite red tie, removing his black loafers, before lying next to her.

“I’m playing with the strap of your gown, Katniss…what were you doing before I came home?”

“Drinking wine…imagining what we would be doing once you got home,” she stuttered out. “I’m not good at this.”

“You were doing beautifully,” he assured her. “The tone of your voice…low…grounded…I bet you growl when you’re turned on…and I'd love to make you growl…”

Katniss felt the gush as her core pulsed at his words. She had foregone underwear and could see her arousal gleaming on her inner thighs.

“While you were waiting for me, did you touch yourself?”

Her fingers traced along the opening of her gown. “Yes…”

“Oh fuck—” He groaned into the receiver and the sound traveled straight to her cunt. “I’ve been thinking about you all day. Just thinking about coming home to you made me hard—” There was a grunt on her speaker, and she gasped at the image of him, cock straining through the zipper of his pants. “I had to close the door to my office and stroke myself to the thought of you…”

Katniss mewled into the phone, her hand traveling down between her legs as the other massaged her breast.

“God…”

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he rumbled on the line. “I’m kneeling in front of you, open your cunt for me—”

“What?”

“Take those pretty little fingers of yours and use them to spread your labia, Katniss. I want to see that lovely hole…the one that I’m going to stick my fingers…then my tongue…and finally my cock—”

Behind her eyes, Katniss imagined this mystery man kneeling before her and using her index and middle finger, spread her outer lips apart to his hungry eyes.

“Mmmm…more…” She groaned into the phone. “I want more…please…”

“I got you—” Katniss could hear shifting and wondered if she was actually turning this stranger on. “You’re so wet for me, Katniss. I bet you taste delicious...go on…taste yourself.”

Losing herself in his voice, she lifted her hand to her mouth and stuck her fingers in her mouth.

“I can hear you sucking on your fingers.” He sounded desperate. “What do you taste like?”

She moved her fingers from her lips. “Light…but musky…”

The man moaned into the receiver. “Do you want to fuck me?”

“Yes,” she growled. “I need you inside me.”

Her fingers went back to drenched core, moving along her inner lips, and dancing along her entrance.

“Undo my belt,” he commanded. “I can’t wait anymore, Katniss. I want you to pull out my cock. I want you to rub your cunt against my pants so every time I wear them, I can remember my dick ramming into that soaked hole of yours—fuck!”

Katniss took her fingers, plunging them straight into her core. “UH!” She lost herself in the motion, her hips jerking as she fucked herself—or in her mind, he fucked her—into oblivion. “I’m going to come…”

“Me too, baby,” he moaned. “Touch your clit, make yourself come for me, Katniss…”

Her hand went to her pearl, circling the peaked nerve, and she felt the crest of her climax in sight.

“Don’t forget…” he demanded. “Say my name…say my name when you come—”

Her whole body arched, tensing, before she crashed, and her hips bucked as the white-hot pleasure blinded her.

“FUCK—PEETA!”

She could hear his ragged breaths as her hips landed back on her mattress.

“Oh God…that was amazing.”

“You are amazing,” he breathed, almost tenderly.

“Thank you,” she whispered into the phone. “I thought that maybe my ex was right—that I was a horrible lay. But it wasn’t me. He just never inspired me…or made me want…you did.”

“Katniss?”

Her eyes opened slowly. “Yes?”

“It’s me—” He took a deep breath. “Peeta.”

She snorted. “Yeah, sure.”

“Today is your 25th birthday.” Katniss shot up at his words. “Your office gave you a cake—chocolate with strawberries on top and almonds sprinkled on the sides, along with a bottle of wine.” Her eyes went to the open bottle of pinot. “My office is right across from yours—and I’ve been in love with you since the moment I met you.”

“Peeta…” Her eyes filled. “Two years?”

“Two years,” he confirmed. “Delly told me that you and Cato broke up. I had to take a chance even if it was this.”

“Do you actually work as a phone sex operator?”

“No,” he replied. “Delly made that flier.”

“Damn her and her graphic skills,” she muttered.

“Do you hate me? For lying to you?” Peeta asked carefully. “If you ended up not calling, I was going to ask you out on Monday, but I understand if you never want to speak to me—”

“Peeta.” He stopped. “Would you really do all the things you said over the phone?”

“Fuck yes.”

Katniss laid back against her pillows. She didn’t want to wait till Monday to see him.

So, she told him her address.

FIN.

[always-andshewrites]

Another Way Out - Chapter 2 “Sneak Peek”

Hey guys, I thought I’d give a little sneak peek into Chapter 2.  I am also still looking for a beta/or anyone wanting/willing to pre-read for me.  Just a heads up, so far my chapters have been MASSIVE, coming in at around 13-15,000 words. So any help would be greatly, greatly appreciated!!!  Here  you go....

| Katniss |

“Katniss, Kat, wake up.”  I hear Peeta’s voice before I’m fully awake and slowly open my eyes.  Except when I open my eyes, everything is pitch black and there is something covering my face.  When I reach up to remove whatever is blocking my sight, Peeta gently places his hands reassuringly on top of mine.

 “What the— why can’t I see anything?”  I demand, tensing up at my sudden blindness.

 “Good morning beautiful.” He says, placing a kiss to my cheek and then pulling me into his arms for a moment.

 “It’s a surprise.”  He whispers into my ear with one hand on my back, the other pulling on my arm as he helps me to a sitting position.  I have never been the kind of person that enjoys surprises; I like to know everything.

 “I don’t like being left in the dark; pun intended.” I scowl, unsure if he can see it because of the blindfold that’s covering my face, as well as not knowing how much light is in the room.  I know today is tour day, and who knows what surprises it has in store for me, so I’m not sure I can handle anything extra. Not to mention that the inability to see takes me back to the arena, back to the tornado.  Back to when the gamemaker’s distorted our sight, blinding us all. Back to when they tried to get us to kill each other.

 “You’ll like this one, I promise.  Just . . . trust me.  You do trust me, right?”

 “You know I do.”  I tell him, fighting the smile that is forming on my lips. 

 “What time is it anyway?”  I ask as Peeta guides me through the house and down the stairs.  With the blindfold securely over my eyes, Peeta has helped me get dressed.  Once it became clear that the blindfold was more trouble than it was worth, Peeta finally allowed me to remove it, but only in the bathroom. 

 Thankful for the absence of the blindfold, I take my time in the bathroom.  I do my business, wash my hands and face and then brush my teeth.  All the while, wondering what Peeta has up his sleeve.  As soon as I open the door, Peeta is waiting for me with that damn blindfold in his hand.  He secures it around my eyes, folding it in a knot at the back of my head.

 “Is this really necessary?” I snap at him, scowling once more.

 “Katniss, I promise you’re going to love it.” He trills.  How someone can be so chipper this early in the morning is beyond me.

 “What time is it anyway?”  I ask, conceding to the fact that he intends to keep me blind until he shows me this “surprise.”

 “Really early.  Sun’s not even up yet.”  He informs me, helping me get my jacket and boots on and then leads us out the door. 

 Peeta interlocks our arms together once we pass through the front door, never releasing me from his grip.  Together, we stomp through the foot of snow that covers the ground, making our way to Peeta’s surprise. Using my remaining senses, I intuit that we are headed into the woods.  Or maybe it’s the meadow, I can’t be certain without my sight.

 Finally, after what feels like an hour of walking through the snow, Peeta pulls me backwards into his arms and gently removes the blindfold.  Even though I complained about not being able to see from the moment I woke up, I keep my eyes closed for another moment, inhaling the sounds of mother nature.  I pick up the sounds of tree branches scraping against each other from the force of the wind; the scampering of chipmunks racing up a tree as they hop from one spot to another.  I hear the symphony of birds chirping their morning melody, signaling the start of a new day.  The mockingjay’s are not far away, mimicking the bird’s song, and then there is something else that is slightly out of place.  Something that is not of mother nature’s doing.  It sounds like . . . like the crackling of a fire?

 The anticipation is driving me mad, so I slowly open one eye, and sure enough we are in a small clearing in the meadow, surrounded by trees.  Peeta has prepared a picnic, surrounding us in my favorite things.  Trees, nature and him.  

 The entire district is covered in a blanket of white, minus this one tiny spot in front of me where Peeta has shoveled the snow into a heaping pile.  He must have done this days ago, allowing the sun to soak up any remnants that he was unable to scrape away because the ground isn’t even wet.

 There is a blanket spread on the ground for us to sit on, as well as an additional blanket to cover up with.  Less than a foot away, he has built a small fire to keep us warm, which means he must have woken up hours ago, made the trek out here to start the fire and then walked all the way back home to wake me up and bring me out here.  Now, I feel guilty for giving him such a hard time this morning. 

 I turn around to face him, my eyes filled with tears at his thoughtfulness and wrap my arms around his neck.  “PEETA!  When did you— how did— oh my god Peeta, this is incredible, it’s just . . . it’s amazing!”  My mind is blown at his creativity, at his thoughtfulness.  He has transformed a day I have been dreading for months into something . . . better.  No matter what happens for the rest of the day, I will always remember the incredible way it began.

 “I just thought it would be nice for us to get away from everything.  You know, spend a quiet day in the meadow, with just the two of us before we are bombarded by our prep teams and . . . everything.” His cheeks pinken, and from the way he’s looking at the ground I know it has nothing to do with the frigid temperatures. A smile forms on my lips at the thought of a bashful Peeta. 

 He kneels onto the blanket, lifting the lid to the picnic basket and pulls out a plate and two cups.  Then he looks up at me, extending his arm, his eyes twinkling with the setting moon.  “Come have some breakfast with me.”  He urges, inviting me down to him.

 He doesn’t have to ask me twice as I drop down next to him, joining him on the blanket.  We feast on all my favorites; strawberries, oranges, and somehow, he even managed to acquire some grapes.  Where did he even get all of this from; and better yet, when?  I have to give him credit, I never knew he could be so duplicitous.

 I wonder if all the secret phone calls with Effie was actually him scheming to create this perfect date for us.  Normally, he orders what we need from our local grocer; I know it’s only to give him business, but all this food . . . it couldn’t have come from anywhere but the Capitol.

 “Oh my gosh Peeta, this is delicious!”  I moan with a mouthful of oranges, sighing with pleasure from the tart, juicy fruit in my mouth.  His eyes meet mine and they darken slightly, before a mischievous glint appears in his eye.  Maybe it’s not mischievous, but more like . . . seductive. Whatever it is, I like it.

 Before I know it, he pounces on top of me, pinning me to the ground.  He intertwines his fingers with mine; trapping my hands above my head.  He leans down to kiss me, dipping his tongue into my mouth.

 “Mmm . . . you’re right.  Mouthwatering—” He says, suckling on my lower lip, “Scrumptious, absolutely—” He leans down again, giving me another kiss, “—insatiable—” Forgetting altogether about the delectable food, I lock my arms around his neck and savor his lips.  Vulnerable to my kisses, I wait for the perfect moment to flip us over so that he is the one pinned to the ground.  Straddling his hips, I never break our connection and cherish this moment, wishing with all my might it never had to end.

 Finally, we come up for air, never breaking our gaze.  The love in Peeta’s eyes is so prevalent, I think I could stare into his striking blue eyes for the rest of time and be completely satiated.  His hand reaches up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear.  “I love you Katniss.”  He tells me with so much sentiment that I can literally feel the love emanating from his pores.  It is in this moment that I know; without a doubt how absolutely, completely, irrevocably I am in love with this boy.

 His eyes sparkle under the moonlight when he looks at me.  Looking at me, no— into me, as if he has a direct link into my soul. He looks at me like I am the most beautiful thing in the world to him and I love it.

 Eventually, I slide off his hips and curl my body next to his.  I rest my head on his chest, listening to the steady sound of his thrumming heart.  It is the sound I fall asleep to each night and it quite possibly could be my most favorite sound in the world.

 We lie here for a while, watching the miracle of another sunrise bleed its beautiful array of colors into the sky, as it does every other day.  Except today is not like the others, today is tour day.

 A shudder runs through me when I suddenly get a flashback of the other night.  When Peeta and I were kissing, and it just wasn’t enough anymore.  My conversation with Madge comes to the forefront of my mind when I remember the want I felt.  

 Peeta and I wanted— no, we needed more as we explored each other’s body’s more intricately than we ever have before. There was a time when simply being in Peeta’s arms and kissing each other was enough, but now; I always feel like I need more.  It’s like no matter how close I curl into him, no matter how much of our skin is touching, it’s just never enough.  I think about needing him inside of me, wondering if that would be enough.  Would it satisfy that hunger?

 I begin lightly trailing my fingertips along Peeta’s abdomen and instantly feel the goosebumps appear on his skin.

 “Stop . . . you know what that does to me.”  He sighs, shivering before he begins to supply me with my own form of torture and begins trailing kisses down my neck until he reaches my collar bone, sending a shiver coursing through me.

 My body is filled with electricity for Peeta which sends my mind back to the last time it felt that way; when Haymitch barged into Peeta’s house and caught us in a compromising position.  I am so glad we are out here alone, with no Haymitch to interrupt us.  Oh god, Haymitch!

 “OH CRAP!  Haymitch!” I yell out, my eyes opening to see the sun perfectly straight up in the sky, meaning it is getting close to noon.

 “You’re kidding, right?  You’re thinking about Haymitch right now?”  Peeta groans, giving me those sad, pathetic eyes and pouting his lip. He reaches out to pull me closer to him.

 “No Peeta,” I begin, removing his hands from underneath my shirt.  “—he said not to let him oversleep.  Come on, we need to go wake him up.”  I sit up, scooting away from Peeta.  I know that if I do not remove myself from his touch, I will be incapable of saying no for long and proceed to button my shirt back up and tame the stray hairs on my head back in place.

 “I um, I’m going to need a minute.”  Peeta tells me, shifting uncomfortable on the ground.

 Embarrassed, I look anywhere else but at Peeta and simply nod.  “Okay, I’m sorry.  I’ll um . . . I’ll start packing up.” I say, thankful for something to do.

 Peeta takes a few deep breaths and then he is by my side, helping me consolidate our remaining food.  We throw some water on the fire and fold the blanket before heading towards Victor’s Village.  While Peeta has mastered walking with his new leg on solid ground, making this trek in the snow is a challenge in itself and it takes us much longer than it normally would to get to Haymitch’s house.

 Once we reach Haymitch’s front door, I brace myself for the putrid stench that normally fills his home.  However, when we enter his house, I am surprised that it smells . . . clean.  Or, well, cleaner than it usually is.  I wonder if he hired someone to help him tidy up since he knows Effie is coming today.  The clock above his stove reads 10:30, meaning we are not as late as I originally thought.  He still has at least an hour before Effie arrives.

 Haymitch is passed out at the kitchen table, as usual.  He is snoring loud enough to rumble the house, and his head is hidden in the crook of his arm.  Most likely, he passed out drunk earlier this morning.  Even twenty-five years after his games, Haymitch still refuses to sleep in the dark.  I probably would too, if I didn’t have Peeta.  He is my light in the darkness.

 “Haymitch, come on.  Wake up Haymitch, it’s time.”  Peeta says, gently nudging our near comatose mentor.  Having been on the other end of waking Haymitch up from an alcohol induced slumber, I don’t even attempt to wake him up.  Instead, I spot an empty cannister and grab it, making my way to the sink.  I turn the faucet on and fill it slightly over halfway, leaving just enough room so that it doesn’t slosh around during the walk back to Haymitch.

 ‘Watch out.’  I tell Peeta, motioning for him to move out of the way.   Slowly creeping next to Haymitch, I dump the entire contents of the cannister onto his head and quickly jump back, bracing myself for his swinging hands that are most likely clutching onto at least one knife.

 “What the hell!  Why am I all wet?”  Haymitch grumbles once he spots Peeta and I in front of him.

 “You said to wake you up; it’s tour day.  Effie will be here in about an hour.”

 “I said to wake me up, not give me pneumonia.” He scoffs, reaching for a towel to pat his face dry.

 “Well, you’re awake now, so mission accomplished.  I suggest you take a bath first—” I say, grabbing Peeta’s hand and making our way to the door.  “—and you might want to clean up a little, you know how she is.”  I finish, slamming the door behind us.

 “I just did!”  I hear him grumble from the other side of the door.

 Peeta and I both look, first to my house, and then to his, not sure which one to go to first.  Once our prep teams arrive, we will be separated until the cameras arrive, a moment I am dreading.  I do not like it when Peeta and I are not together, but I absolutely detest it when we are forced apart.

 However, when we turn our heads to Peeta’s house, there is a sleek, fancy black car that is most certainly from the Capitol camped out in his driveway; making our decision for us.

 Tightening my grip on Peeta’s hand, we sprint over to his house, wondering who our guests are, yet something in my gut says I know exactly who it is.

[throwaway3844893]

Imagine: Katniss reminisces on Peeta's proposal

The first thing Katniss saw when she woke up was her husband's sleeping face. A smile spread on her face as she took a deep breath of the fresh morning air and examined the ring on her finger. It shone in the sunlight, and the pearl that Peeta had given her in the Quarter Quell arena looked dazzling in the direct rays from the sun. She turned to the side, pulling the thick sheets up around her bare arms, and watched as Peeta slept. Katniss had grown so used to the practice that she was able to spot the imperfections you could only find if you truly looked. Of course, with her Peeta had no imperfection other than her. But that thought was immediately replaced as Peeta stirred, and she grinned to herself as she allowed the self deprecating thoughts to wallow away as she rejoiced in the atmospheric eyes of her husband. "Good morning," she whispered, stifling a yawn in the process. She stretched her limbs so that her toes touched the edge of the birch headboard.

"Good morning," Peeta replied, resting his head on his hand. "How did you sleep?"

"No nightmares," Katniss said, the realization hitting her. "It's been so long since I've been without one. I think the excitement of the day just wore me out."

Katniss observed the room, and it gave her an ultimately peaceful feeling. Sunlight bled through the blinds, illuminating the whole room into a magnificent blend of neutral colors. Waves overlapped the sand, which was evident because the open window allowed Katniss and Peeta to hear the crash of the waves upon the sand. She soon realized that they had the entire day to themselves, and it filled her with joy to know that she could spend her entire day in a tranquil bliss.

"Peeta?" Katniss' voice was quiet, and her eyes met his.

"Yes?"

She paused for a moment, then asked, "Can we stay like this all day?"

Peeta chuckled a bit, "Sure, I have no objections. We can just have people bring us food. It may not be the Capitol's food, but I'm sure the seafood District Four provides us with will be just as good.

"I'd love that," Katniss sighed. Peeta's free arm unwrapped itself from her, and pushed the button on the wall that called one of the staff members to bring them food.

He moved his arm back over Katniss. His lips touched mark he'd left on her the night before.

"Last night was... amazing," he whispered, "but are you okay after-"

"Yes," Katniss laughed. "you're supposed to bleed the first time. You don't want to know how many times my mother has tried to or had that conversation with me." Their hands intertwined, and Katniss' eyes looked at the shiny diamond ring on her ring finger.

Katniss thought of the day Peeta proposed.

My yellow sundress flows through the wind as we walk back laughing into the house. We're both soaking wet, dripping into the grass. Our hands disconnect for only a moment, but that moment makes me feel empty. I need him. It makes me physically sick to not have him with me. That's why whenever he's working, I always roam around the new Hob. Every day at eleven thirty I stop at the bakery, and he always has fresh cheese buns out of the oven waiting for me. After lunch, I somehow always end up near what used to be the Seam. Shops upon shops have been built from the rubble. Today I stopped at a local jeweler to get my Mockingjay pin polished and the jeweler was always looking over his shoulder, like he was doing something forbidden. I assumed he was just nervous, a lot of people still look wary after I pass them or they see anything related to the Mockingjay. I don't blame them, I'm afraid too. Every day I'm afraid that somehow, someone will take away what I need most.

Later this evening, after I got home, I put on a yellow sundress and head to the lake, leaving a note telling Peeta to come when he was done with work. Soon after I saw him walking and sitting down next to the stream next to me. My hand twirled in the mud, picking at a katniss root, which I was named after. The rock he sat on was sturdy, but loose, so if he leaned over he will fall into the small lake.

"Hey Peeta, can you lean over and take a look at this plant?" I asked him. He soon leaned over and, as expected, tipped over and fell face first into the lake. His head popped up to see me rolling on my belly, laughing hysterically.

"Not. Funny," he said through chattering teeth, his golden hair dripping water droplets into the lake. Soon I felt my foot being grabbed and helplessly grabbing grass while laughing, I was plunged into the cool water. My head resurfaced, watching as he laughed loudly, not knowing I was silently behind him. I was only a foot away when a big wave fell over his head.

"Shi..." He began to say, but was muffled by the water going into his open mouth and over his head.

Giggling, I pushed myself out of the water, grabbing Peeta's arm and pulling him onto the soft dirt-turned mud. He shivered slightly, making a chattering noise with his teeth.

Soon after, we left which lead to this moment.

Inside the house, I had on a fresh pair of pajamas, and was just chilling on the couch watching TV when Peeta called me into the living room. I stood up with a sigh, and, feet pattering across the wood flooring, entered the dining room.

The scene before my eyes was incredible.

On the cherrywood table an uncountable amount candles were lit, giving off a sweet aroma and illuminating the room with a soft glow. Piles upon piles of my favorite foods were lined up, and my eyes instantly landed on the savory cheese buns I had every day, and the lamb stew Peeta only made me on my bad days, where I could hardly bring myself out of bed. The pictures of our families, both of us young, seemed To stare at me in the flickering light.

"Peeta... this is too much, it's not even a special occasion," I said, barely above a whisper. My hand was to my mouth, and I stared into those blue orbs that held the chair that must be mine. He just motioned with his hand to sit, and I hesitantly did so. He walked around the table, sitting in his own seat. After I realized there was no hope of getting an explanation of why he was doing this, other than the fact that he loved me dearly, I served myself and dug in.

After, when my belly was stuffed to the fullest, Peeta walked back to me and grabbed my hands. Standing up, we walked until we were near the edge of the table.

"Katniss Everdeen..." he said quietly, almost as if he was speaking to himself. It would've seemed that way too, had we not been holding each other's hands. Slowly, he let go of one hand. "You are the love of my life." Leaning down, and reaching into his pocket, my heart began to race. Was this really happening? "And I wouldn't want to spend it..." his other hand let's go, leaving me out of his grasp. Soon a brown box opens, revealing a small, diamond ring. He grabs my right hand again, "with anyone else. So, Katniss Everdeen, will you marry me?"

"Yes."

It is in this moment Katniss realized, smiling to herself, that all of her doubts and worries were worthless. She thought he wouldn't love her in five years, that she'd be alone, but then, laying there, she whispered to herself, "He's not going anywhere."

[mygalfriday]

and the piano’s this melancholy soundtrack to her smile (haymitch/effie)

It’s been five years since the end of the Games and being in the Capitol still makes Haymitch itch for a drink. He stays clear of the bar, just in case. Aside from the occasional glass, he’s remained mostly sober since the very painful drying out process in Thirteen. He hadn’t wanted to disappoint the kids. Right now, it’s hard to remember why. He curls his trembling hands into fists and tries not to breathe whenever someone walks by with a glass of liquor.

The booze is the only thing this damned anniversary celebration has going for it and he can’t even enjoy it. Capitol parties have never been his thing and if Plutarch hadn’t guilted him into attending to keep the spotlight off Katniss and Peeta, he wouldn’t be here. It brings back far too many memories — drinking in some corner with Chaff, hiding from his Escort. His friend is dead and Haymitch hasn’t seen Effie Trinket in five years.

He still thinks about that kiss more than he should.

At the time, it had seemed like a good idea. He’d always wondered what it would be like and he’d figured what the hell, right? Probably never see her again. And she’d been beautiful, standing there in the snow and blinking her feathered lashes at him. Now he knows what a mistake it had been. Her lipstick had tasted like raspberries. He still can’t eat them all these years later.

Haymitch has been wandering the party for a couple of hours, making sure he’s seen by anyone who might matter so Plutarch won’t have anything to bitch about later. He’s in the middle of holding his breath as he walks past a group of elderly men nursing glasses of scotch and contemplating the best way to slip out and catch a damn train when he senses it. It’s been years but he has never forgotten what the room feels like when she walks into it — the ripple in the air, like a pebble dropped into a pond. The room shifts focus, however briefly, to stare at her.

He swallows, turning slowly on his heel. His eyes are drawn to her instantly, just like everyone else. Fashion in the Capitol isn’t what it used to be but Effie still knows how to turn heads. The short, simple black cocktail dress is sequined and sparkling, catching the light every time she moves and showing off endless legs. She isn’t wearing a wig and it’s the first time he’s ever seen her real hair. It’s blonde and shiny, curling around her face in soft waves and resting against her pale shoulders. Her wide smile is nervous but he’s pretty sure he’s the only one who knows her well enough to see it.

Without really thinking about it, Haymitch steps forward. He wants to see her, wants to talk to her, wants to hear that ridiculous Capitol accent grow thicker when he irritates the holy hell out of her. He makes it two steps before he finally notices she isn't alone. She’s hanging off the arm of some tall brunette peacock in a three piece suit. Haymitch freezes, letting people maneuver around him as something cold and unpleasant floods his stomach.

She keeps smiling, leaning into her date and greeting people who come up to chat with her. She still knows how to command attention and it isn't long before she’s surrounded, her expression more at ease as she charms her audience. A possessive hand rests at the small of her back and the man looking down at her wears a fond smile, like he can’t quite believe his luck.

Haymitch swallows back bile.

Across the room, Effie laughs that soft, tinkling laugh he remembers. The sound takes him back to another time, when it was his arm she held and her laugh in his ear as she tried to charm sponsors into giving them money. He’d been too soaked in liquor to appreciate it back then but now — Haymitch forces himself to stop staring at her and move. He turns and walks away blindly, searching for an exit.

The first door he comes across leads out onto the balcony and it isn’t quite the permanent exit he’d been hoping for but some fresh air will have to do. He gulps in the city air greedily, lungs burning. He wants a drink. He really wants a damn drink. He curls shaking hands tightly around the iron railing until his knuckles turn white, bowing his head and shutting his eyes.

She’s with someone. Of fucking course she’s with someone.

“Fuck.”

“Your vocabulary hasn’t improved, I see.”

He starts, eyes snapping open. Though he doesn’t dare turn around, he straightens from his defeated slouch against the railing and stares out at the skyline, twinkling lights and skyscrapers as far as the eye can see. His hands ache but he can’t bring himself to let go of the railing. “Hello sweetheart.”

“Hello Haymitch.” He listens to the click of her heels as she moves closer. “I wasn’t sure you were ever going to come to me so I thought I’d come to you instead.”

He snorts bitterly. “Saw me, did you?”

She hums and out of the corner of his eye, he sees her lean against the railing beside him. Her dress glitters resplendently under the neon city lights. “You’re hard to miss.”

“You’re one to talk, Princess.” He hesitates, still refusing to look at her. “You look…good.”

“Thank you.”

He can hear the smile in her voice and keeps watching out of the corner of his eye, drinking in her every move like a starving man before a feast. She lifts a hand to brush her hair behind her ear and the sparkle of the ring on her finger almost blinds him. It feels strangely similar to being punched in the stomach. He must make some strangled noise in response because Effie seems to realize her mistake a moment too late. She drops her hand hastily, looking away.

After a moment of tense silence, she sighs. “How are you, Haymitch?”

If she’s looking for a change of subject, he isn’t in the mood to be indulgent. “Not as well as you, apparently.”

“Haymitch-”

“You love him?”

She hesitates. “I…admire him.”

“Not what I asked.”

Another sigh, this one full of resignation. “And yet it’s my answer.”

“He good to you?”

“Yes,” she admits. “Far better than I deserve.”

He scoffs, his breath clouding in the night air. “Bullshit.”

“I was an Escort,” she says, as though he needs reminding. “And then a rebel. I am an enemy to both sides of the war. I don’t truly belong anywhere and it was quite lucky anyone at all would be seen with me-”

“Is that why you’re with him?” He asks, incredulous enough to finally turn and look at her. Arguing with Effie feels familiar, feels more like home than even Twelve does. It puts him at ease for the first time since he set foot inside the Capitol. “Because he tolerates you? Kind of a low bar isn’t it, sweetheart?”

Effie frowns. “It’s hardly a fairytale but one does what one must.”

He stares at her. This close, he can see the cute little lines around her eyes and the way her mouth trembles like she doesn’t even believe her own lies. “That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard you say,” he declares, looming over her. “And I’ve heard you say some dumb shit, Princess.”

She huffs, turning away to glower at the street down below. “I don’t expect you to understand, of course. You have the children and an entire district that adores you. You belong somewhere.”

“And you don’t?” He scowls, leaning further into her space. It always made her pay attention to him before but now she won’t even look at him. “You have me, Eff. Katniss. Peeta. I told you-”

Effie whirls suddenly, blonde hair bouncing against her shoulders and blue eyes fierce. “You kissed me goodbye and said don’t be a stranger. Don’t be a stranger, Haymitch. That is what you say to a casual acquaintance upon parting when you don’t care if you ever see them again. It is not an open invitation to show up and insert myself into your lives when you’re all trying to move on-”

“I wanted you there,” he snarls. “Fuck, Effie. I waited for you to show up with your fucking pink suitcases and -”

He stops abruptly, alarmed by the tears filling her eyes. Effie crying has always been more than enough to make him stop in his tracks, no matter how drunk he might have been at the time. He’d always grimace and panic and slur apologies, pet her wig until she swatted him away and dabbed at her eyes. He can’t handle Effie crying. He just fucking can’t.

“Eff,” he begins, voice significantly softer. “Don’t-”

“I didn’t know,” she whispers, blinking rapidly. “I wanted to come but… I thought you were just being polite.”

“Effie,” he says again, searching her face intently. “When the fuck have I ever cared about being polite?”

She chokes out a laugh, delicate fingers covering her mouth. Her damp eyelashes flutter and the lines around her eyes crinkle and that tinkling laugh fills the air between them. Warmth fills him like sunlight at the sound and before he knows it, Haymitch is laughing too. He doesn’t know who reaches for who but suddenly she’s in his arms again, wrapped up tight in his embrace. She’s so tiny but she fits perfectly against him, her head tucked just beneath his chin.

Haymitch buries his face in her hair and breathes her in. Beneath his hands, Effie trembles with suppressed laughter and something else, something soft and tender that makes him ache between his ribs. “I’ve missed you,” she whispers.

He tightens his grip, suddenly terrified she might slip through his fingers. Gruffly, he says, “Then come home.”

Effie hesitates. Her fingers grip his coat in her little fists and her damp lashes flutter against his throat. Her engagement ring digs into his chest even through his coat and he indulges in fantasies of slipping it off her finger and throwing it from the balcony until she finally breathes out, “All right.”

He smiles into her hair and doesn’t let go.

[ilguna]

Tacenda - Chapter Nine (f.o)

Summary: you’ll never truly be free from the Capitol.

Word Count; 4.7k

Warnings; swearing, DEATH MENTION, MURDER

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

The sun is the first thing you see when your head peaks out of the tube. It’s blinding, enough so that you have to cover your eyes to even see anything. You squint, and blink and shake your head a little bit as if that’ll reset your eyesight or something.

The smell of salt is just as blinding as the sun. It’s like a hard slap to your face, and you inhale deeply because it’s so comforting. It’s not a painful slap, it’s more of a  welcoming one, strangely enough. It screams home, it screams your name at volumes you can’t comprehend.

Your skin begins to prickle slightly, as if it’s excited to finally go swimming again. When your eyesight comes back and there isn’t black disformed dots taking over your vision, you can see that you’re surrounded by the blue water. You stare straight down, curious to see how deep it is, and you’re not surprised when you do see the depths. It probably goes far down.

You hold your hands out as you reposition yourself on the podium. You don’t want to accidentally fall off, because that will get you blasted sky high. It’ll suddenly start raining blood and chunks of your body on other tributes. Which could possibly trigger other podiums too.

As you look around, you have to take in the arena as fast as you can, since this year’s countdown is shorter than normal.

In the middle is the cornucopia, made out of silver. It’s shaped uniquely, as usual. It’s on one gigantic, jagged black rock. Around it is scattered displays with weapons. Swords and spears it looks like, the more common things. The special weapons like the tridents, axes, bow and arrow and so on look to be inside of the cornucopia, as well as the actual boxes.

Around the cornucopia, is water. It’s deep, but you can’t tell how much from where you’re standing. You’re sure you’d end up drowning before finding out how deep it actually is. You trust that there’s an entire ecosystem of fish beneath you, which will help with food.

The cornucopia is split into–what you can only assume–twelve slices with the same uneven, black rock as before. It extends all the way out to the beach, which goes all the way around the arena. By the looks of it, the beach isn’t very long, like a second or two to get to once place to another. Behind it, is the jungle.

You can see the birds flying, hear the birds chirping over the waves of the water beneath you. The trees are tall, and their limbs extend up to the sky. They all seem to be extraordinarily healthy, as if they haven’t seen a day of dead winter. There’s bushes, flowers, roots and so much more out there. You’re sure that there’s an unimaginable amount of wildlife in there. There should be no trouble with hunting later. And if there is, you guys just aren’t looking hard enough.

The entire arena is humid. You can feel yourself start to sweat already from the heat of the sun beating down on you. This is probably why you guys were given these wet-suit type clothes. It’s breathable, you’ll admit that, but it’s not very practical. You hope that the nights don’t get too cold, and it’s reliable when it comes to getting snagged on thorns.

To every division of the water, are two tributes. So, in your little slice, to your left is the male morphling. You guys are supposed to be in the alliance together, but by the way he’s eyeing you, you have a feeling that it doesn’t really apply anymore. He must be nervous over your televen and whether or not you’re going to hold up the alliance. You have to keep an eye on him.

Over to your right is the rocks. Over that, you can see Peeta and the guy from District Nine. Unfortunately, nine isn’t in the alliance which means that Peeta is in a serious amount of danger. You hope that he can see that nine isn’t friendly by any means, because nine is eyeing Peeta the same way that the male morphling is.

Looking up again, you can see that the clock is ticking down. It’s hit ten seconds already. You prepare your body in a diving position, every now and then you look over to the left, keeping an eye on the morphling. It looks like he’s trying to subtly turn his body towards you.

He’s going to be your first kill.

Peeta looks over to his left again, which is where you’re standing. This is when he notices that you’re standing there, because his body relaxes slightly. You wave to let him know you’re friendly, hoping that he sees the ring on your finger. Then, you point to your eyes, and then towards him, but in a way that says to look to his right.

He stops paying attention to you with this new information.

You count down the seconds with the clock. Breathing in and out accordingly. You can feel the adrenaline already seeping through your blood. How jumpy you suddenly are. It could be from the excitement of being in the water again, or it could be completely because you’re going to have to fight the second that you jump off of this podium, and you don’t know which one it is.

Just before the gong sounds, you suck in as much air as you can get. It goes off, and you take the male morphling by surprise. Instead of going off to your right, like he was expecting–which he jumped that way–you hesitated for half a second so when you jump to the left, you would hit him perfectly.

It works, your shoulder slams into his chest painfully hard, even for you. The both of you hit the water, and that’s where the real challenge begins.

He must be realizing his mistake now, seeing you float over him for a moment while you decide what to do. You could completely leave him to live, but you risk the chance of him grabbing your ankle. You have to finish him off.

You swim down to him, and he tries to fight you off for a moment. However, you manage to get behind him. From this angle, you wrap your legs around his with an iron lock. Crossing them tightly to make sure that he won’t be able to kick. And with his torso, you force his arms to his sides, and then quickly wrap your arms around his chest in an ‘x’.

This is when you begin to squeeze as hard as you can manage. It takes a moment, but it starts working. There’s a flurry of bubbles heading towards the surface, while you guys continue to sink down deeper. The bubbles start to come to a slow, which is when you arch your stomach outwards, while pulling everything the other way.

It’s an uncomfortable position to be in, and consequently, he starts to breathe out more. Once he’s on low air, he tries to suck in, but all he gets is a mouth full of water. Again, he sees his mistake, and tries to thrash around to get you off of him, but you hold on tight to make sure that he doesn’t get free. You don’t want him to live to tell the tale.

After a few more mouthfuls of water, he begins to get limp. You take your chance then, not wanting him to suffer any longer, and you let go, getting above him a little bit. You place one hand on his jaw, and the other on his cheek as you twist at an upwards angle. You can’t hear the cannon go off, so you do it two more times just to make sure that his neck snapped properly.

You begin to kick your legs and move your arms rapidly after that. Years of being in the water have prepared you for this moment. Your lungs are burning, but you let no air out, and keep your lips pressed together tightly. Left arm over the head, and then right. The boots are a little frustrating in this moment, you’d rather it be your bare feet now.

Your hand breaks the surface first, and a second later, your head is above water. The air is warm on your face from how freezing cold the water is. You take a moment to take in your surroundings, because you definitely got turned around while you were underwater.

Your back is now turned to the cornucopia, so you go to spin to look back towards it again, when you spot Katniss and Finnick on the rocks to your right. They’re leaning over, helping someone onto the path with them.

“Did you see (Y/n)?” Finnick sounds panicked.

It has to be Peeta that they’re helping, “Behind you–”

Finnick turns at the news, obviously hoping to see you over here. His eyes spot you instantly as you swim over. He kneels down for you, holding his hand out.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Fine–the guy from District Six turned on me.” you say, putting your hand in Finnick’s.

He helps pull you up, and you stumble a little bit when you get on the land. You don’t hesitate to turn to Peeta next, offering your hand to him the same time that Finnick does. Peeta looks unsure for a moment, because the move looks so rehearsed on your parts, since it was too in sync. But Peeta grabs onto you guys, and you pull him up.

“The careers are in the middle.” Katniss says.

You look around her to see that they’re guarding the path to the cornucopia you guys would have to take. It’s unfair.

“Alright, let’s go.” you push Peeta to start moving first.

You follow behind Peeta, Finnick behind you, and Katniss takes up the back. Peeta makes a beeline for the trees, since that’s all you guys have. You slow down when Finnick ushers Katniss to go in front of you too. You’re not bothered with being in the back, except for the fact that you’re weaponless.

You all follow the path that Peeta makes. Dodging the leaves that reach out to caress you, and just barely sliding past the small branches that would leave a nasty cut. The further you run, the darker it seems to get because the leaves off of the trees are making one giant shadow.

Every now and then, a stream of light manages to break through the leaves. The shadow isn’t prominent enough to make the entire place dark. With or without the light, you can see just fine. However, you can imagine how nasty it will be to try and navigate this jungle at night, with only the moon to give off light. You have a slight feeling in your gut that the careers won’t be hunting tonight. You guys are going to be in the clear.

Your lungs are burning by the time Finnick yells for them to stop for a moment. They crouch down, while you sit on the floor completely. There’s salt water mixed in with your sweat, and it’s running down every part of your body. Going from holding your breath for several minutes to running wasn’t an ideal transition, and you need to compose yourself in some way.

Finnick rubs your back slightly, letting you know that he’s aware that you’re struggling to breathe. You try and focus on the sounds of everything around you. It’s all animals and bugs that are making these noises. The cicadas are especially loud, because it’s one constant noise.

Katniss crouches down with the rest of you, still looking around and taking in the scenery. It’s a way to adapt to your surroundings. You know about a hundred different ways to escape if someone were to come running up to you guys. It’s fast analyzing, and preparing your steps ahead of time.

“God, it’s hot,” Peeta breathes, you wipe your sweat from your forehead as he says that.

This heat reminds you of the days that you would spend on the dock with your family. Those are the type of days when the weather is reaching ninety degrees, and if you don’t put on some form of sunscreen, you’re going to burn all your skin. You can remember a couple of times when you ended up doing that.

Reed had spent the entire day reminding you to put on the sunscreen, and you lied to him throughout the whole day. He knew you were lying, and he just wanted to see how far you would go until you would finally put it on. Unfortunately, you never did, and ended up turning a bright red by the end of the day.

He used it as a learning moment later in that week. He told you then, that he had warned you all day to put it on so you wouldn’t get as bad as a sunburn as you had, and you didn’t listen. He wasn’t going to force you to put it on, because you needed to learn why in the first place.

Luckily, it was during the summer, so you didn’t have any school going on. But either way, that was the very last time you had let yourself get sunburnt. Because it was a painful week, and you never wanted to experience it again in your life.

“We got to find fresh water.” Peeta says, Katniss moves some hair out of her face.

You all sit in silence for a second, until the first cannon goes off. All of you look up, as if you’ll see who’s just died, but it’s more of a reaction to the noise coming above. Since it isn’t necessarily surrounding you. Two more cannons follow the first.

“Bloodbath,” you say, wiping your face again.

Finnick laughs, “Well, I guess we’re not holding hands anymore.”

You can’t help but to smile with him. Because as you thought last night. You worked together as one, to try and get the games to stop. And you held hands and showed that you were a force to be reckoned with. But today, it all went to shit. You were all at each other’s throats, despite being in alliances.

“You think that’s funny?” Katniss asks.

“You don’t?” you breathe, “Did you really think for a single moment that we would all stick together?”

Finnick tilts his head your way, almost like saying that you’re right, and then he goes to say his own bit, pointing up to the sky, “Every time that cannon goes off, it’s music to my ears.” Finnick then places his hand on your knee, “I don’t care about any of them.”

“Good to hear.” Katniss says, reaching back and pulling a machete out of her quiver.

“Wanna face the career pack alone?” he challenges, “What would Haymitch say?”

Finnick has definitely shown her the bracelet. And just thinking about it now, you reach to play with the ring on your finger, still not completely used to the texture. You twist it around, and Peeta goes to look to see what you’re doing.

“Haymitch isn’t here.” Katniss says.

The statement could go a ton of ways. But she’s basically saying that she doesn’t have to stick with the alliance that Haymitch has clearly made for her. She’s not happy that Finnick is challenging her like this. Finnick might seem heartless at first glance, saying something like ‘I don’t care about any of them’ but he does care.

He just can’t show it. You guys have to prove that you’re ruthless. If you’re going to kill someone, there is no second-guessing. You fall through on it, you get over it and not mull on it the entire games. You can address what you did in the arena later on. She must not like this route.

She’s looking at them from the ‘they’re people’ perspective. She’s completely right, they are people. But people tend to think for themselves. Your first instinct is to always save yourself, and the second would be to save someone around you. When you’re thinking of them as people, and you’re worrying about the lives they would have lived, you’re putting yourself at a disadvantage.

Again, you could reflect on this all later, after the games are over.

“Let’s keep moving.” Peeta tries to ease the tension, but Katniss is still staring straight-faced at Finnick.

Finnick holds out his hand for you to use as leverage as you push yourself up. Then, he follows behind and holds onto your hand tightly. With the other, he has the trident. Katniss passes off the machete over to Peeta, and you can’t help but to feel the jealousy of not having a weapon for yourself.

“I’m defenseless.” you mutter to Finnick, watching where you step as you guys begin to follow Peeta. Katniss walks behind you three.

“Maybe you’ll get a sponsor.” Finnick tells you.

“I hope, because I don’t want to rely on you three for help the entire time.”

“That wouldn’t be so bad.” Finnick grins, “It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve done it. For me, at least.”

“Leave Typhoid out of this.” you shake your head, laughing.

Peeta starts swinging at vines that are hanging from the trees so it’s easier to pass through. You watch as he does it for a little while, since there’s not really much to talk about.

“I could let you borrow my trident,” Finnick holds it up, and then offers it to you.

“Yeah, right.” you laugh, but you take it from him anyway.

It’s heavy because it’s made out of pure metal. Too much for you to handle, you’d rather have something lighter. If you’re going to be stabbing, this would be perfect, but you’re not opposed to throwing either. The spears made by District Two aren’t so bad. They’re not as heavy because they don’t require so much. It’s a metal pole with a point at the top.

As for the trident, it has to split off, and it makes the trident top-heavy. It may work for Finnick well, but you’d never be caught dead trying to wield this thing. You haven’t done it before, and you’re not really looking forward to doing it now either.

You pass it back to Finnick, “I’d rather have a sword.”

Finnick chuckles a little bit, “Classic career.”

“Don’t know what you’re implying, but for your sake, I’m going to ignore it.” you look up to see how much further you guys will have up the hill.

Peeta swings the machete the same time Katniss yells, “Peeta, no!”

The machete hits the forcefield, and from the amount of electricity that comes from it. Not only do sparks fly, but Peeta is sent flying back into you guys.

You hit the ground a little hard, laying on your back. Finnick takes a moment to breathe, because the wind was probably knocked out of him since he was in front of you. He got the blunt of Peeta’s body.

The dome makes a sound as it goes back to its facade of being a jungle. Katniss pushes herself up, and you can hear her mumble, “Peeta?”

“Peeta?” she asks again, you push yourself up into a sitting position, “He’s not breathing! He’s not breathing!”

Finnick is up almost instantly after that, heading straight for Peeta. You watch as he pushes Katniss away from Peeta, and you know what’s going to happen. You move to put yourself between Katniss and Finnick, watching as she goes to pull out an arrow. Finnick is not going to get shot trying to save her fiance.

“It’s CPR!” you shout, holding your hand out to keep her at a distance. She looks over to Finnick to see that he’s starting compressions.

Once you’re sure that her body relaxes, you move out of her way completely. You go back to where you were sitting before. A little pain is flaring in your lower back, and you rub it lightly, hoping that it’s because you just hit the ground a little too hard. It’s nothing you could control, you were in the air for a couple of seconds, it’s got to build a tiny bit of momentum.

You watch as Finnick gets a little desperate, muttering under his breath. His face looks strained, almost like he’s afraid what will happen if Peeta dies right now. To the forcefield of all things. The rebellion would die right here, and Katniss wouldn’t be able to carry it out.

Katniss leans over Peeta too, but out of Finnick’s way. She has a hand on his arm, watching and pleading for Peeta to breathe again.

Peeta takes a deep breath, and you can see relief wash over Finnick as he gets out of the way. You pull him towards you, not really focusing on Katniss anymore. You place your hand on his chest first, before moving his face to look at you.

“You’re okay? Nothing hurts from hitting the ground?”

He shakes his head, and you nod, removing your hand from his face, “And you?”

“A little back pain,” you smile slightly, “Nothing I can’t handle. You did good, Finnick.”

“I know.” he smiles, and then he sits up a little bit to kiss you.

After that, you help him onto his feet. He leans over and gathers the trident and machete while Peeta and Katniss hug. You pause for a moment, watching how hard Katniss squeezes Peeta.

When you look to Finnick, he has that same look on your face. He’s thinking the same thing that you are. That you two have clearly misjudged the relationship to some degree, because there are clearly some feelings there. It wasn’t a total act like it looked. There’s something underlying beneath.

Finnick looks like he’s about to suggest to keep going, but the sound of a sponsor gift stops all of you. You look over to where it’s coming from, and your eyes widen a little bit at the size of the gift.

Unfortunately, it gets stuck in the damn tree.

“I got it,” you tell them, Finnick gives you a boost, and then you carefully navigate around the sturdy and the flimsy branches. Fortunately, the one it got stuck in, is strong enough to hold your weight.

You sit with your legs on either side of the branch. Without any warning, you curiously open it up with a slight head tilt. You’re hoping that it’s a gift for either you and Finnick and not one for Katniss or Peeta. It could be for them, considering Peeta just took a thousand volts to the fucking head.

You pop open the top regardless, picking up the paper, “It’s for me.”

“Are you sure?” Peeta asks.

“It’s got an ‘M’.” you say, holding out the paper for them to see, “And it says ‘I promised’.”

You disconnect the parachute part from the tin, closing the top and then handing it down to Finnick. You hop from the branch to the ground. Finnick opens it up, curious this time.

“Holy shit, (Y/n).” Finnick says.

You see exactly what he means, picking up the knife.

Listen, in the betting room they sometimes sell these souvenirs. Typically, they’re plastic and made for the kids to play around with. They’re not real, which makes them pretty much useless.

However, this is very real, and you can tell by the way the silver metal glints in the sunlight. These ‘toys’ are limited edition. They’re specially made for each games, and on top of that, each district has their own design. It’s mostly a way to show your support for a certain district. You buy them, show them off later and prove your loyalty or whatever.

This knife is obviously from Laurel, just because of the ‘I promised’ remark. It hasn’t even been an entire day already, and she’s sent you the gift that you needed. She knows that you can’t survive in here without some sort of protection. And she had to have heard your sword comment. Although, this is no sword.

The hilt of the knife is specially carved to make it unique. You can always see the beach theme with District Four, since that’s what you’re known for. Being on the ocean. Where the hand is supposed to go, there’s waves made into the shape of a hand so it fits perfectly. It’s the ‘right’ way to hold it, and it’s probably the most comfortable too, just by the looks of it.

Around it, there’s more waves, fish, seashells, and some pieces missing to resemble dips in sand, you think. You hold it in your hand properly, and this is when you notice the little button where the thumb goes. You move out of the way of the three watching you, as you press the button.

And just like that, the knife extends into a sword. It’s all silver, and there’s no proof that it had been a knife before. The pieces blend together perfectly. When you move it, it’s light. It’s easily portable, and when you swing at a vine in the way, it flys clear off.

“Oh, this was expensive.” you say, swinging it in your hands, “I didn’t even know they sold these as actual weapons.”

“It’s because they don’t.” Finnick tells you, taking the paper and looking at it again, “Who promised?”

“Laurel, just before I was sent in,” you tell him.

You press the button again, and the blade goes right back into that perfect knife shape. You grin at Finnick, and he seems to have the same look on his face. He goes ahead and drops the tin into the bushes, to keep it ouf of the way, but he holds onto the paper.

You guys get back to it, Katniss now walks in front of you guys, occasionally throwing rocks to make sure that you don’t walk into the forcefield again. Behind Katniss is Peeta, and then Finnick, then you. Finnick had wanted you in front of him, but you wanted to play around with the knife a little bit.

Plus, he would need to be there to catch Peeta just in case Peeta isn’t all there still. It was an acceptable answer for both parts, and Finnick let you hang back. You spin the knife in your hand subconsciously, checking behind you every now and then to make sure that you guys aren’t being followed.

It’s mostly a walk filled with silence. Finnick will occasionally help you down a steep part of the hill, and then go back to what he was doing before. Once or twice he asked about your back, making sure that it’s starting to feel better, and you were able to tell him it’s like the pain wasn’t even there.

You wonder what everyone else is up to in here. Since there’s not much to do, other than try and hunt for some sort of water source. Which is what you guys have been doing this entire time. Circulating this section of the arena in hopes that you’ll find water. You’re sweating more than you can afford, and it’s beginning to weigh you down.

Hopefully, Johanna and Blight had successfully gotten Beetee and Wiress out of the bloodbath. Knowing them, they’d probably head to the middle on the idea that they would be able to get something out of it. However, Wiress and Beetee aren’t built for combat like the rest of you are.

You also hope that Cecelia was smart enough to run away from the cornucopia, rather than towards it. You would have absolutely no idea, simply because you were underwater for the entire beginning of the games. When you had gotten out of the water, it was over. You were already running to get away from the middle because of the careers.

Things would have gone so much differently had you been allowed to go to the middle, rather than drown what was supposed to be an ally.

[hutchhitched]

Maybe This Summer, Chapter 4

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

Author: @hutchhitched​

Rating: Explicit (eventually)

Beta/Graphics: @xerxia31​

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

____________

The Plant Book

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

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

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

 “Katniss Everdeen?”

 “Yes.”

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

 “Morning basket?”

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

 “Oh, thank you…”

 “Darius. Yes, ma’am.”

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

 “That’s right, ma’am. Enjoy!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Sure. That’s what he’s doing.

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

 You don’t mean that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Katniss snorted. “Stop.”

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

 “I don’t.”

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

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

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

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

____________

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

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

“Keep it in your pants, man.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____________  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Oh?”

 “Drawing.”

 “I’m sorry, what?”

 “Finn didn’t tell you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Katniss fell into my arms.”

 “Literally fell?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Sex is a lot of work!”

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

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

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

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

 “Really?”

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

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

 “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

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

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

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

[alliswell21]

This was a prompt I saw @lovely-tothe-bone had posted. You know me, I suffer “shiny-red-ball syndrome” or actually “puffy-tail-plot-bunny Syndrome”

Anywho... Rated M for language and adult situations. Modern!Everlark. Also, I stole a line from @mega-aulover and I’m not sorry! 🙃

The Garage

The Panem Mockingjays were in the Super Bowl for the first time in history, a true Cinderella story of perseverance and teamwork that brought them to play against none other than the legendary Capitol Mutts, who were getting the beating of their life! 27 to 3 with only thirteen minutes on the clock and one timeout left.

The trophy was in the bag, and it was beautiful!

The Mockingjays were in possession; the Mutts ran an aggressive defense, but the Mockingjays’ quarterback sidestepped a tackle and scored a 30 yard touchdown.

The whole room in the Everdeen home exploded in cheers!

Katniss had been squirming half the evening in the loveseat she occupied with her best friend, Peeta Mellark, and decided she couldn’t take the tension anymore. She had to do something about it.

Looking around, Katniss stood up and motioned Peeta to follow her. She put a finger to her lips to shush him, then wrapped her hand around his, and pulled him out of the den, where their families were celebrating raucously the victory they could practically taste.

“Where are we going?” Peeta whispered harshly, trying not to trip over his feet.

“Somewhere quiet, where we can be alone for a minute.” She responded in a similar tone. “Now, stop walking so loudly, would you?”

“Sorry.” He said sheepishly, and really tried to step lightly on Mrs. Everdeen’s pristine hardwood floors.

They made it to the kitchen, but instead of turning left, to the staircase leading upstairs to the bedrooms, Katniss went straight, out the kitchen door to the backyard, and on to the detached garage.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Peeta asked nervously.

The garage was Mr. Everdeen’s pseudo mancave, complete with a mini fridge, a rickety couch and an ancient TV set on top of his work bench. Their fathers hung out there for hours drinking beer, working on projects, deploring sports statistics and generally gossiping about whatever it was grown man gossiped about.

Katniss winked and closed the garage door with a click behind them.

"Our parents are so drunk, they won't even notice we left. Calm down." She told him as she fell to her knees, making quick work of his fly and undershorts.

Peeta tried to argue— honest! but Katniss was fast with those clever fingers of hers— her mouth on his cock shut him up quickly.

Peeta stood there uselessly, struggling between watching her suckle his dick while pumping the parts of him she couldn’t fit in her warm little mouth, and letting his head fall backwards and enjoy the ride until it was his turn to reciprocate the favor; and Lord in Heaven, did he wanted to reciprocate!

She had really gotten good at this, he thought when feeling the telltale tingling at the base of his spine. He was so close!

He couldn’t help his slow, whiny moan, “Katnisss… fuuuuck!” His eyes squeezed shut, his hands grabbed onto some surface he’d knocked his ass against when he started coming into Katniss’ gloriously wet mouth.

It wasn't until the door opened, that his eyes were able to focus again... on the angry face of Mr. Everdeen as he took in the sight of his daughter’s full mouth.

“What the fuck is this?!” The man slurred loudly.

Katniss scrambled to her feet, somehow blocking her father from seeing Peeta tuck himself back into his pants. But nothing prevented the man from watching his daughter wipe the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.

It only took the man a surprising two steps to cross the garage and reach his child. He was about to grab her upper arm when Peeta pushed her behind his broader frame.

“I can explain!” Peeta shouted fanning out his arms to shield the girl.

“You can explain? What, how the two of you stabbed me and everyone else in the back by sneaking around like this?” Mr. Everdeen’s bloodshot eyes were crazed, spittle flew everywhere out of his mouth. “You can explain you disrespected my home and my daughter by taking advantage of her under my nose?”

“He didn’t take advantage of me!” Katniss protested ducking under Peeta’s outstretched arm to face her father. “I wanted to do it. I brought him out here ‘cause we like each other… a lot!”

Sensing danger, Peeta grabbed Katniss by the waist and shoved her out of the way. “Sir, I swear is not like—”

“You little shit!“ Mr. Everdeen took ahold of the boy’s collar and yanked him away from Katniss.

She leapt forward, scratching at her father’s wrist. “Stop it! Let him go!”

“What’s going on?!” Another man’s voice boomed in the chilly room.

As if the situation wasn’t mortifying enough, everybody spilled out of the house and crowded around the garage’s open door, watching the scene with wide eyes.

Mrs. Everdeen rushed forward to pry her husband’s fingers from Peeta’s crumpled, stretched out shirt.

Mr. Everdeen rounded up on his neighbor and best buddy, “I’ll tell you what’s going on. I caught your back-stabbing son defiling my daughter!”

“What? That is preposterous. Our Peeta is a good boy. He would never do such a thing. It was probably that wild child of yours that threw herself at him.” Said Mrs. Mellark in that condescending tone she liked using even on her own family.

“I beg your pardon?” Mrs. Everdeen dusted her slacks exaggeratedly. “Katniss isn’t wild!”

“It’s that boy of yours! I knew his innocent, helpful, quiet kid next door facade wasn’t to be trusted! He better not had gotten my baby pregnant, or there will be hell to pay!”

“First you’ll have to prove it’s his. I’m more worried my son could’ve contracted something!”

“How dare you insinuate—“

“Enough!” Bellowed uncle Haymitch, whom usually had his moments of deep wisdom when really inebriated. “Y’all are acting like a bunch of morons! All you’re accomplishing with this yellin’ is making your kids even dumber than they already are.”

Ouch!

Everyone stopped bickering at once, looking rightly shamed and partly stunned by Haymitch’s outburst.

“Now, there ain’t enough booze in this house to make freezing my ass out here, worth watching y’all bitch over two fucking 18 year old college students who’ve been glued at the hip since I can remember, doing the horizontal lambada together.”

Nobody argued, so Haymitch continued.

“I’m not saying what the Boy and Sweetheart did was smart, it was in fact pretty stupid. But you too did dumb shit as horny teenagers,” Haymitch glared a both sets of parents, now blushing. “Give the kids credit, they’re legally adults. You’re blind if you haven’t noticed them making puppy-dog eyes at each other. Is sickening!

“I’m starving, and it’s too cold for this shit!” Haymitch burped, “I’m going inside now.”

Peeta and Katniss were wrapped around each other during the hullabaloo. But slowly loosen their hold to face their family.

“I’m not… pregnant.” Katniss squeaked. “Not even a small chance.”

“Neither of us has any diseases.” Muttered Peeta scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Not much chance for that either.”

“How can you be so sure?” Mr. Everdeen snapped, still not ready to let his anger go.

“What are you using for birth control? You can’t depend on condoms alone,” Declared Mrs. Everdeen.

“Mom!” Exclaimed Katniss scowling, “Geez! We are not actually doing it! What Daddy walked in on— and believe me, I wish he’d never seen that— is as far as we’ve gone.”

She peered up at Peeta and he smiled down at her, squeezing her hand in his.

“Look,” Peeta exhaled and then faced their parents. “We are sorry we didn’t say anything before, but we knew you guys would react… exactly like you did. We can assure you, nobody has anything to worry about. But just to put your minds at ease...” He took a decidedly shaky, deep breath and confessed, “We are still… virgins.”

“TMI, dude! Nobody needed to know that!” Called Peeta’s middle brother. His girlfriend’s bulging eyes followed the shit show with interest.

Peeta threw his brother a withering glare, but it was Katniss’ fourteen year old sister, Primrose, who answered.

“Oh please! Why the Hellman’s real mayonnaise are you here then, Rye?! You didn’t protest our parents belittling Katniss and Peeta in front of everyone, when Daddy interrupted their private moment! Grow up!” The teen crossed her arms over her chest petulantly.

Maybe Prim felt a tad jealous and kinda out of sorts seeing her secret crush’s girlfriend at her house, but nobody messed with her sister and brother-in-law on her watch! The thought made Prim looked guiltily at her parents; but then she remembered how they’d been screaming, blowing things out of proportion, and felt smuggly vindicated. She could still hold a couple of secrets for her sister without blabbing.

“Everyone should be happy Katniss and Peeta are together. They love each other and will keep each other safe! Uncle Haymitch’s right, you guys are just selfish.” Primrose turned on her heels so fast heading for the kitchen, her long, blond braid smacked Rye on the chest with a dull thud.

Mr. Everdeen sighed. “I’m still angry with you both. And I still think you were disrespectful. But I guess Prim’s right. We’re lucky Katniss is not bringing home some lazy hooligan with a criminal record. I just wished…”

“I know, Daddy.” Soothed Katniss still holding Peeta’s hand. “I’m sorry. We both are.”

“We, all are.” Said Mrs. Everdeen sidling with her husband. Then she turned to the Mellarks, “I think we all owe the kids an apology. And each other.”

Everyone apologized for the things they said and promised to be more supportive and less reactionary, despite still being disappointed Katniss and Peeta hid their relationship from them.

“Well, that was terrifying.” Peeta whispered shuddering when their families finally left them alone.

Katniss chuckled. “I know. I wonder if we should’ve told them this all started ‘cause we got shit-faced and eloped two weeks ago?”

Peeta smiled wryly, wrapping an arm around his “for-now” wife. “Nah. My mom would’ve gotten an aneurysm. She’d probably drag us to the hospital to get tested for STDS, pregnancies and DNA. In that order.”

“Yeah but, they would’ve calmed down when we told them we were getting an annulment.” Katniss said a little unsure.

“About that…” Peeta trailed off catching Katniss’ curious eyes peering up at him from his chest. “What if… we just kept… married?”

Katniss bobbed her head, although there was nothing to consider, really. “We could apply for housing together.” She offered.

“Share expenses.”

“Go further... than oral?” The question came out high pitched and ragged.

Peeta breathed out a sigh of relief, he wasn’t the only one thinking about it.

He nodded readily. “Together?” He bit his lip, and pulled a black pouch out of his pants pocket. A ring with an iridescent pearl on top spilled into his open palm.

Katniss’ eyes widened, but she lifted her left hand, spreading her fingers apart so Peeta could slip the ring in place.

Admiring her new jewelry, Katniss smiled.

“Together!” She confirmed rising on tiptoes to kiss her “for-Always” husband in the lips.

[thehopefuldandelion]

Not Him

part 2

part 1 is here on ao3. here on fanfiction.net

thanks to all who supported me in part 1 specifically @lovely-tothe-bone​ and @tindomrl​

everlark.

I do not own any of these characters:)

***

A day later and I still hadn’t process the fact that just yesterday, Gale and his “intern”, Madge, were in my bed. Gale cheated on me. So what, maybe I had some erotic thoughts about Peeta. I hadn’t actually gone through with them. He’s my boss anyway. I can’t think like that.

Shaking that thought away, I focus on getting ready for the day. Another day ignoring Peeta, another day without Gale. I get dressed quickly in a pencil skirt and button up shirt with a black suit jacket. The more conservative today, the better.

The apartment seems, empty, without another soul here. The tv which used to drown out the blaring noise of honking cars is silent, no dents in the couch to be seen. I don’t have to cook breakfast for two people, instead just for me. One singular person. I suck in a breath and release it. In all honesty, the apartment might seem empty, lonely even, but I don’t miss Gale. As our relationship dwindled and tottered over the edge, we became more like roommates. I can’t even remember the last time he touched me romantically. Pass by pecks and simple questions with simple answers is the only interaction we really had near the end. No wonder he cheated on me.

I should probably be making a bigger deal out of this but I’m too exhausted to care. Gale seemed done with me so why should I still keep rekindling the tiny fire we had? I push all these thoughts that have haunted me since last night far back into my overwhelmed brain and hope that today goes smoothly.

Shit. There goes the milk spilling all over the floor. Yeah today is not gonna be smooth. I don’t have time for this. Shit. Shit. Shit. I hear the toaster pop! meaning the toast is done, burnt, of course. And as I spread butter a chunk slides down my freshly ironed shirt. Fuck. On my way to the bedroom, pretty much jogging, I bump my hip into the chair, hard, (that will leave a bruise) causing me to stub my toe on the door post. 

“Aghhhhhhhhh,” I scream in pain and frustration.

I guess this is the world punishing me for some odd reason. Dang. I’m late. I mean I do need this job, but I won’t have to see Peeta anymore so it’s kinda a win-win. Not really, in the end it would be a hard loss and a joyful win.  Stop thinking, Katniss. You need to get to work. Yikes. This day sucks.

***

“Good Morning, Katniss,” Peeta greets me while sipping a cup of coffee. Black.

“Hello, Peeta. How was your night?”

“Wonderful. Isn’t it such a lovely day?” He says looking straight at me. I noticed he didn’t even glance out the clear windows. “And how are you on this beautiful day?”

“Uh, it’s great...I’m great,”I respond while gritting my teeth. I can’t stand his kindness. He peered at me, his face in disbelief, turning his head slightly.

He almost scoffs and then says, “Ok, Katniss. Whatever you say.”

What is he? A psychopath? Telekinetic? Wouldn't be surprised.

“Oh, and Katniss? You have a stain on your shirt.”

Fuck.

Over the past week of working at this hell-hole, I observed Peeta giving me looks, unsettling but not in a vicious way. I almost want to relish in the tingling feeling they bring from head to toe. What is wrong with me. My brain and heart are sending two very different signals to my body. I need to throw all thoughts of Peeta in the sudden absent trashcan in my baffled brain. Can anyone find that missing trashcan? 

“Katniss?” I hear someone call from behind me.

My chair swivels around and I see a jubilantly smiling Peeta fixated on me, or more particularly the stain. Ugh, that freakin stain. He pulls a hand from behind his back and I see he’s holding a shirt. I give him a befuddled look and he quickly stammers to explain what it’s for.

“Uh, I always have an extra button up with me and was wondering if...well if...if you wanted to wear it until tomorrow. I mean, obviously, you can change when you get home. You don’t actually have to wear it until tomorrow.” He rubs the back of his neck with his hand and blushes a deep shade of red. “So, if you’d be interested, I uh-”

I save him the embarrassment by grabbing the shirt out of his hands and running to the bathroom.  He gives me a bewildered look and I almost want to laugh. But I don’t. Because I hate him. Right? Right. Lie. And me borrowing his shirt is just because I have no other option. Right. Lie.

Slowly unbuttoning my shirt, I imagine what this would feel like if it was a different situation with Peeta unbuttoning it for me. Oh god. A shoot of pleasure settles in my lower half. What is this man doing to me?

The white button up smells of dill and almost, if I’m not mistaken, cinnamon. The sweet smell wafts into my nose making me hungry. As expected, I am engulfed in the shirt, enveloping me in warmth and...love? That’s bizarre. I never associated Peeta and love. Those two never intermingled in my mind. With the shirt tucked into my skirt and having splashed frigid water on my face, I walk, no, speed-walk towards my desk.

Peeta pops his head out from his office and is about to say something when he looks at me. His mouth opens a few times but no words form. Ok then. “K...Katniss, uh, um, I, uh, can you-

The phone rings distracting me momentarily from his stammering. 

“This is she.”

 “Yes, he is here.”

 “I’ll transfer you now.”

I turn to Peeta, seeing him still utterly flabbergasted, and say, “Katie’s Cakes on line 1, Mr. Mellark.”

Recovered, he answers, “Thank...Thanks, Katniss.” In a blink of an eye he is back in his office with the door safely closed.

I snort to myself and wonder where else the day will lead.

***

My head is throbbing. Countless phone calls and a trip to the coffee shop down the street later and its 6pm, and I’m still at work. Honestly, a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and Netflix are calling my name. Ugh, I can’t wait to go home. I should've brought some Advil. Mentally adding that reminder for next time.

A quick glance around the office assures me I’m the only one here. Hallelujah. I’m starving. Maybe there's something in the break room. As I open the fridge and bend down to reach some leftover cookies form a party, I hear a gasp and someone run out of the room. Huh. That’s odd. My head hurts and I’m hungry so I guess I’m hallucinating. Eh, it happens.

Oh my God. These cookies are heaven on earth. I moan as I take a bite. Another gasp. What the hell. It can't be me...can it? I start to investigate. My thought process is that if it is a demon or ghost, at least I can die and never have to come here again. The only lights on are from my cubicle and...wait that's weird, why are Peeta’s office lights on. Hmm. 

As I turn the corner to get to his office, I bump into a something hard.

“Oof.”

“Are you ok, I’m so sorry Katniss.”

It takes me a second to regain my bearings. “Peeta? What the fuck?”

“Ah, I didn’t mean to bump into you,” he says with a slight blush on his cheeks. He then offers his hand for me to take and helps me up. I brush the dust from the ground of my skirt.

Ok, then.

“It’s fine Peeta. I’ll survive.”

“CanIbuyyoudinner?”

“What?”

“Uh, can I take you out?” he says.

“As a date?” I inquire him. There is no way in hell I would go on a date with Peeta Mellark. Right?

“Um,” he rubs the back of his neck, the blush spreading from his cheeks to his ears, then neck. “I guess. I was thinking more of an apology. For bumping into you, that is.”

“Ok,” I say slowly, reminding myself this is not a date. Yes, definitely not a date. “When?”

“Now?”

“Uh, um, sure. Yes, now is fine.” I say quickly trying to cover up my stammering.

I walk over to grab my purse and put on my jacket. “So where, were you thinking?”

“I have something in mind,” he tells me with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

***

We end up at a bakery about 2 miles outside of city limits. I was confused at first, until Peeta told me he grew up around here and worked at this bakery until taking over Mellark Enterprises from his dad. The bakery is small and homey, wood tables slightly worn down from years of use. The counters are stained, each stain telling a story. It seemed like a nice place to grow up, full of love and laughter, something I never understood.

Peeta lets me try a variety of pastries, all delicious and mouth watering.

“I actually own this bakery.” Peeta tells me.

“So that’s why we are in here safe and sound and not arrested for breaking and entering.” I tease him.

He laughs and looks me in the eyes. “I don’t come here often enough, being CEO of a company and all,” he says while stabbing his fork into a muffin. “It’s peaceful out here. Almost like, everyone has taken time to reflect on their lives and go about their days how they want too.”

“So, what I’m picking up on is you didn't want to be a CEO of a multi-million dollar company.”

“Honestly, no.” He breathes out. “I wanted to be a famous painter and if that didn't work out I’d just stay here, spending the rest of my days baking.”

“Makes, sense. Painter you say? Just how good are you?” I laugh.

Peeta shrugs his shoulders. “I’m not terrible.” One of his curls has fallen over his eyes and it takes all my restraint to not reach my hand over and brush it back.

Hours later we were still talking and laughing. I was having a great time.

“No, way. You actually said you were the doctor and flew around in the TARDIS. I can’t believe she considered that that was true.” 

“Oh, yeah. She was mortified. Best blind date I’ve ever been on.”

“Well, I wouldn't have run off,” I blush.

“Good to know,” Peeta says in return, giving me a look of hope.

We both just peer at each other, lost in thoughts of our own. The silence isn't awkward per se, it’s almost satiated.

“Well, I should get home. I do have work after all.”

“Of course, Katniss. Thanks for joining me. I hope this evening was apology enough,” he says kindly.

“It will suffice,” I tease.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks, almost sad to see me go.

“Tomorrow. Good Night, Peeta.”

“’Night, Katniss.”

I drive away feeling strange. Do I like my boss? More importantly, do I like Peeta Mellark?

***

After hanging up my coat and setting down my purse, I shimmy of my skirt, keeping Peeta’s button up on, I jump into bed and spread out like a starfish. This day is over. Finally. As my eyes become heavy and I drift off into a deep slumber, my phone pings!

From: Unknown 11:46

Hey Katniss, this is Peeta. I just wanted to know if you got home safe.

From: Katniss 11:47

Hi Peeta. I did thank you for your concern. Sleep Well.

From: Peeta Mellark 11:49

Sweet Dreams, Katniss.

I turn off my phone, not even considering what the message implies. It’s been a long day and the last thing I need to worry about is Peeta and I’s relationship.

I remembered to set my alarm last night, luckily, so I won't be late for work. I am still wearing Peeta’s button up. Slowly, but surely, I get out of bed, shower, and eat breakfast. I turn on the tv, because I need some distraction. Opening the window next to the fire exit, allows for some much needed air into the apartment. A familiar voice draws me out of my mental to do list for today.

Holy Shit.

Peeta is on tv. Why didn't I know about this? I’m his secretary for god’s sake. Caesar Flickerman who hosts Good Morning Panem is asking him questions about everything, from his favorite food to his love life.

“So, Peeta. What's it like being the CEO if such a profitable company?”

“Uh, it’s great. Hard work, but it’s good,” Peeta says with a somber look on his face. I think back to our conversations last night. He never asked to be CEO, but it was thrust upon him like a teacher giving homework.

“That’s awesome, Peeta.” Caesar leans back in his chair preparing to ask the next question. “Tell me, you were just added on “Forbes Top 10″ and given the title of “Panem’s Most Eligible Bachelor”. Anyone out there who catches your eye?”

Peeta has a slight hesitation in his voice before looking the camera in the eye and saying, “No, not really anyone at the moment.”

“Aw, c’mon Peeta. There must be one special someone. You can tell us.” Caesar inquires.

I see Peeta gulp nervously and blink a couple times. “Well, there is this one girl. I’ve loved her since forever, really.”

The audience, including Caesar, perk up at this. “Here’s what you do, buy her some flowers and chocolates and win her heart.”

“She’s not really that type of girl, plus I think she hates me.”

“Ah, well that's too bad,” Caesar shrugs. “Her loss. Am I right folks?”

The audience abounds in laughter and claps. Who is this mystery girl? I mean I hate Peeta, or used too, but it can't be me. Can it? Shaking those thoughts away, I turn off the tv, and grab my jacket and purse. Time to start the day.

***

Peeta’s office is still locked. I’m assuming he is still at Good Morning Panem. These past few days have been, strange. From breaking up with Gale, realizing I don't hate Peeta, and finding out he loves this mystery girl, I just don't know what to expect from this job anymore. My mind can’t process this abundance of, in a way, drama. Hey, I’m anti-social. What can I say?

Sticky notes with phone numbers and lists can be found on almost every surface of my workspace. I try to eliminate the countless number of them as the day drags on. No sign of Peeta. It’s boring without his tacky humor and clever remarks. 

I decide to call Annie to get me out of this slump.

“Hey Katniss! What’s up?” Annie asks. “Peeta likes, no, loves someone and I think it's me. What do I do?” I say shakily, unsure of what to think of all these conflicting emotions.

I hear Annie giggle and then regain her composure. “Hi to you too. And I don’t know, Katniss. Just ask him on a date and if he says yes then he likes you.”

“But, every time I even consider doing something like that with him, I’m brought back to all the times in our childhood when he was just rude and infuriating.” 

“Sounds to me that you might like him back, Katniss. You do know, that when a guy teases you it usually means he likes you. That could explain why he was how he was in middle school and high school,” Annie explains.

It makes sense, but I can’t justify that for his true feelings. The only way to figure this out is to confront him. Crap.

“You have a lot of thinking to do Everdeen. I’ll see you tomorrow for zen, yeah?”

“Yup, thanks Annie for the much needed clarification,” I say gratefully.

“Of course. Anytime, my friend. See ya.”

“Bye,” I hang up.

I go to the closest cafe for my lunch break, needing to get out of the office, and forgo an afternoon pick me up for a sandwich. It’s not as delicious as the sandwiches at Peeta’s bakery, but it does the job of filling my stomach. The bread isn't fresh and the meat was probably cut a week ago, then frozen, and don't even get me started- wait, when did I become a food connoisseur? 

I throw away the trash and walk back to Mellark Enterprises, hit the elevator button for the 8th floor, and continue in my secretary duties. I see Peeta’s office door open and something compels me to talk to him.

“Hey, so I saw you on tv this morning,” I say to a slightly surprised Peeta.

“Uh, yeah,” There he goes rubbing the back of his neck again. “What did you think?”

“You did great, I mean, you always do,” he blushes at this. “Mystery girl, eh? Caesar Flickerman had to bite tooth and nail to get that out of you.”

“She’s something special, indeed. I don’t think she knows I like her,” At this, Peeta gives me puppy dog eyes.

Clearing my throat, I respond, “I was wondering if you were free, possibly tonight? There’s this movie that came out that I’ve been dying to see and wanted to go with a friend.”

“Yeah, I would love to, Katniss.”

“O-Ok cool,” I say as I shoot finger guns at him. Finger guns...really Katniss?

Flustered and slightly embarrassed, I leave the office and sit down at my desk.

***

We meet up at the theatre and head straight for concessions. My stomach grumbles at the savory smell of popcorn and melted butter, salty pretzels and bubbly soda. 

“What do you like Peeta?” I ask him curiously.

“Oh, I myself love a classic bucket of buttered popcorn and M&Ms,” he says confidently.

“Mmm, sound delicious.”

“Do-Do you want to share Katniss?” Peeta inquires me nervously.

“It is a large bucket of popcorn; I don't think I could finish it on my own. Sure, we can share.” I have to remind myself this is not a date. I kinda wish it was though.

Before I even have a chance to get my credit card out, Peeta is already paying for our snacks.

“Peeta!” I scold while hitting his arm jokingly. “I should pay. I invited you, after all.”

“Too late, Katniss,” He says as he taps my nose.

We both look away nervously, embarrassed by our intimate actions.

About halfway through the movie, we stop passing the popcorn bucket and I feel drowsy. I wake up by someone softly calling my name.

“Katniss, Katniss. Time to wake up.”

Quickly, I realize my head is on Peeta’s shoulder and my arms are wrapped around his. How did that happen. 

“I didn't want to wake you. Your slumber looked peaceful, sleeping beauty.” 

“I’m so sorry, Peeta. I swear I didn't mean to fall asleep on your arm,” I apologize.

“It’s ok. You can fall asleep on me any time you need to,” He tells me smiling without a care in the world.

I gasp. “U-Uh, o-ok Peeta. Thank you for the offer.”

On our way out, I turn to him and give him a peck on the cheek. Then, like a cheetah, I dash to my car, leaving Peeta speechless. What is happening to me?!

***

3249 words later and this is the product. Hope you enjoyed!

[jlalafics]

I have a prompt request please! Competitive themed number 5!!!! I love your drabbles! Warm regards :)

I hope you enjoy, anon, because I adored writing this!

______

5. we’re always making stupid bets like ‘bet you can’t drink this whole bottle of BBQ sauce’ but then you did and now you’re sick and I feel really bad here let me look after you

 It was their thing.

These stupid bets.

For as long as she and Peeta Mellark had been friends, they were always making bets with one another. In elementary school, it was a bet that she could land farther than him jumping off the swings—the scar from smashing onto the tanbark ground was now a faded mark on her chin. In high school, it was who could jump over more hurdles on the track—he still complained how his left testicle hasn’t been the same since taking the infamous tumble.

When she’s pissed, Katniss calls him ‘One-ball Mellark’.

Now, as she sits on a painfully uncomfortable chair in the ER waiting room, Katniss Everdeen can’t help but wonder if they’ve taken their bets too far.

++++++

Peeta was moving out of his apartment and into a townhouse closer to the newly opened Mellark Bakery; the business that he had literally built from the ground up. They were cleaning out his fridge when they discovered a bottle of BBQ sauce that Marvel, his roommate, had left after moving in with his longtime girlfriend.

Katniss opened it and took a whiff of the sharp-smelling sauce. “Wow, that’s potent.” She handed the bottle to Peeta, who was next to the trash bag. “I bet you can’t drink this whole bottle.”

“I have an iron stomach, Katniss,” Peeta responded and she grimaced at his arrogance. However, despite being an egotistical little snit, he was ridiculously handsome with golden waves and dark blue eyes, so arrogance worked for him. He grabbed the bottle from her and took a sniff. “I’ll do it.”

She snorted. “Yeah, right.”

“If I win, you owe me a favor—no questions asked,” he told her. Peeta held out his hand. “Go on. Shake it…unless you’re not sure you’ll win.”

Katniss cocked a brow before taking his hand and shaking it firmly. “Deal.”

Peeta grinned, bottle in his hand. “Cheers.”

And, she watched him gulp that whole damn thing down.

Less than a minute later, Peeta doubled over onto the floor.

++++++

“Is there a Katniss Everdeen here?”

Katniss looked up at the woman in blue scrubs standing before her.

“Is Peeta alright?” she asked, shooting up from seat.

“I’m Doctor Paylor, one of the ER doctors.” They quickly shook hands as they headed down the hallway. “Your boyfriend had a bad reaction to one of the spices in the BBQ sauce,” the woman explained. “It was a good thing that you brought the bottle with you.” She led Katniss to a set of doors and scanned her badge. The doors opened and they walked through. “He should be fine in a day or two. I’m going to prescribe bismuth subsalicylate to keep him comfortable.”

Katniss looked to her anxiously. “What is that?”

“It’s basically Pepto Bismol.” The woman led her to a curtain and they entered to find a pale faced Peeta. “It won’t be pretty coming out. So, for the next few days, try to keep him comfortable.”

“Katniss?” The pathetic call came from Peeta’s colorless lips.

“Peeta!” She rushed over to him, taking his hand. “Are you okay?”

He gave her a weak smile, squeezing her hand. “You owe me a favor.”

“Yes, of course!” Katniss wiped the ridiculously tears leaking from her eyes. “Anything.”

“Marry me.”

She stiffened. “What?”

Behind her, the doctor who had been reading over Peeta’s vitals gasped.

“You owe me a favor—no questions asked,” Peeta insisted, his eyes staring up at her; the paleness of his pallor made his blues blindingly bright.

“This is ridiculous,” Katniss reasoned. “We’ve never…you’ve never said…”

“You’re questioning whether or not, I’m in love with you?” His gaze went fierce. “I may not say the words, but I’ve felt them everyday since I’ve known you. Since you faceplanted on the playground, who gave you the ointment for that scar on your chin? I used all of my allowance money for that!”

“We were children,” she argued. “You couldn’t have possibly fallen in love with me when we were kids.”

“Children can be capable of a wide range of emotions, including love. I’ve always been sure. Isn’t it why you’ve spent most of our relationship calling me arrogant?”

“Fuck Peeta.” Her voice had gone full watery. “Why the hell would you want to marry me?”

“Because when we were ten, you made me a bet and I intend to win,” he replied hoarsely.

Katniss straightened up. “And, what bet was that?”

“You bet that I wouldn’t never need you,” he replied. “But I do need you. I need you to love me. I need you to take care of me for the next few days and I hope for the rest of our lives like I’ll take care of you. I need you to have my children—whenever you get it out of your head that you’ll never want children.”

“I won’t change my mind about kids—”

“And, I need you to marry me because I love you and I think underneath all the stubbornness and annoyance with me, you love me too.” He looked at her pleadingly. “I thought that I was going to die today and all I could think about is that I’m never going to get the chance to spend the rest of my life with my best friend, Katniss Everdeen.”

“That’s a little melodramatic,” she replied quietly.

“The pain was blinding,” Peeta argued. He smiled nervously. “So, what do you think?”

Katniss sighed, her mouth in a thin line as she looked him over.

They had never talked about their relationship; there had always been love there and she had never been able to explain how no one could comfort her, anger her, excite her like Peeta did. He was her constant, the comfortable blanket that she could wrap herself in for comfort, and he was her shield when she needed to be exceptionally brave.

God help her, she needed him too.

“Doctor.” Katniss turned to the woman, who had just witnessed the life-altering moment and was now trying to hide her tears. “Is he discharged?”

“As soon as you sign off to be his caretaker, I’ll write up his prescription,” Dr. Paylor replied.

“Okay.” Katniss turned to man, covering his hand with hers. Peeta beamed, color returning to his cheeks. “I’ll take care of him.”

“I-I’ll go write that prescription,” came the doctor’s wavering reply before disappearing.

Lowering the railing, Katniss crawled in next to him, her head going to his chest as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“Do you want to make a bet?” he asked, lips against her temple.

Katniss looked up to him, her hand reaching to cup his cheek.

That cocky little grin that made her heart race returned. “I bet that I’m a better kisser than you.”

She always loved a challenge.

“You’re on.”

FIN.

[everlarkficexchange]

Reflections

Written by: @justajjfan

Beta’d by:  @sunsetsrmydreams

Rating: Mature (for adult themes)

Prompt 54:  Katniss, for some reason, using a car’s window as a mirror not knowing there was someone inside the car because of the window being so heavily tinted. Until Peeta, the owner of the car, rolls down the window. [submitted by @sunflowerslyf]

A/N:  There’s not much to add to this except it’s a one-shot piece and I hope you enjoy reading my little story.

Thank you to @javistg and @xerxia31 for all their hard work and dedication arranging this wonderful event. Thanks to my dear friend and beta @sunsetsrmydreams who is always there for me. And lastly, thank you to @sunflowerslyf  for your wonderful prompt. I had a lot of fun writing this for you. I hope you like it.

~~~~~~~~~~

The sun’s rays filter through the lush, lavender canopy of the giant jacaranda tree, soaking my naked body with delicious warmth. I am so relaxed and utterly contented, the struggle to keep awake seems pointless.

I give in to this luscious feeling and curl my back deeper into the strong arms that belong to the naked body laying behind me. His warm breath across my neck and shoulders and the gentle caress of his fingers up and down my body has me tingling with desire and the feeling keeps me from drifting off to a blissful sleep.

“Does that feel good?” His sultry voice asks.

“Mmmmmm…don’t stop.”

“Okay.” He chuckles. “Just a little longer but then you need to get up; you don’t want to be late today.” He whispers softly in my ear.

“Mmmmmm…just a little longer.” I purr.

Moments seem to pass and I’m suddenly feeling a little cold. I stretch out my body and reach for his arms to warm me.

“I’m cold.” My voice, an embarrassing whimper.

He wraps one arm tightly around my waist and with his free hand, makes quick work of unravelling my braid. Gently, he begins to comb his fingers through my matted hair and I fall deeply into this new and sensual feeling, any effort to suppress a moan of pleasure is lost with each gentle stroke.

Squinting my eyes in the bright sunlight to look at his face, he moves his body over mine to deflect the blinding light. His smile takes my breath away, yet it is his eyes, as blue as the morning sky, that causes my heart to skip a beat. Looking deep into his crystal blue orbs, I see my own reflection looking back at me and I’m suddenly feeling self-conscious about my appearance.

“Ugh! I hate my hair. It must look a mess. Maybe I should just get it all cut off.”

His fingers stop mid-stroke and he looks at me with pleading eyes. “Please don’t. Your hair is perfect.”

He brings his lips to meet mine before I have a chance to disagree but there’s an annoying buzzing sound in the background that is so loud it begins to hurt my ears.

***

I immediately spring up and lunge to the side of my bed and slam my fist at the offending noise. I sweep my hair away from my face and look around, realising that I’m in my tiny flat, alone and it was just a sweet dream. Sighing heavily, I’m left feeling a little disappointed because it seemed so real.

Turning my head back to the flashing numbers on the alarm clock, I try to focus my sleepy eyes on the time. I jump out of bed when I see I needed to be awake, showered, dressed and out the door half an hour ago. I can’t believe I slept passed my alarm.

“No…no…no…no. I can’t be late. Not today!”

I repeat these words as I run to the shower removing my pyjamas along the way; I don’t even have time to wait for the water to heat up before I step in and scrub my body in the tepid water then shampoo my hair as quickly as I can. Thankful at least that I decided on what clothes I am wearing today before I went to bed last night.  

Showering and drying in a matter of minutes, I dress, shove my resume, a hair comb and some lip balm hastily in my handbag then grab my car keys before running out the door. My hair is still dripping wet, but I can braid it and add a touch of make-up in the car during traffic light stops. I paid for parking online, so I just need to turn on my phones’ GPS and be on my way. Hopefully I locked the front door on my way out, but I don’t have time to go back and check. I have nothing worth stealing anyway.

Struggling to make ends meet with two part-time jobs and a university loan, this job is the answer to all my prayers. In my preparations, I made sure to research everything there is to know about Mellark Corporation. I just need to get there on time to have a chance at making a good impression during the interview.

I fumble with the keys and finally get in the car and turn on the ignition waiting for temperamental ‘old Betsy’ to start up. It takes a while for her engine to warm up and today is no different only, she won’t even click over. 

“No…no…no…Not today Betsy…Please start; I promise no more E10 fuel; Just start for me!” I plead with the old rust bucket.

Still nothing and time is only wasting further away. With nothing to lose and everything to gain, I get out of the car and head for the bus stop. If I run fast, I should make the next express bus into the city.   

When I get to the bus stop, the line is long, of course it is, but I’m determined to get on the first bus that arrives. Finally, a little luck comes my way and I manage to step into the ‘standing-room only’ packed bus. I’ll have to wait to fix my hair and makeup when the bus gets to the city but that shouldn’t be a problem.

There’s got to be a ladies’ restroom or something, right?

I look at my watch for the hundredth time when the bus comes to a complete halt. Looking around I can see the large office buildings, but my stop is still a few streets away. The cars, trucks and buses in front are banked up and, in the distance, I can hear sounds of sirens from emergency vehicles.

“Looks like it might be a traffic accident.” I overhear a fellow passenger say.

“Yeah, we could be here for a while…might be quicker to walk.” Another passenger replies.

I watch as several passengers ask the bus driver to open the doors allowing them to disembark and walk the rest of the way. He’s happy to comply if they watch their step getting off the bus. Taking all that I see and hear on board, I estimate how long it would take me to walk the distance and judging by my phone…it’s a brisk 30-minute walk. I just need to find somewhere to stop and fix my hair and make-up.

“Can you leave the door open please? Thank you.” I say to the driver as I step off and away from the bus.

***

“Good morning Peeta.” The sound of my secretary comes through clear on my car’s Bluetooth.

“It started off good Effie, but this traffic is a mood breaker. Have the candidates arrived yet?”

“Yes, 2 of the 3 candidates have already shown up; we have a diva who is not happy about waiting, she keeps giving me dirty looks every time she checks her Rolex. Clearly her time is precious. The other looks like he’s been out all night. His suit is terribly wrinkled, and I can literally smell beer from my desk! What do you want me to tell them?”

I press the mute button and laugh at Effie’s summarisation of the candidates waiting to be interviewed for the marketing position. When my former Chief Marketing Officer and friend Annie got married and moved across the country, her chosen replacement left an opening in the team and the job hopefuls are outside my office right now…and I’m stuck here.

“There’s not much I can do from here Effie. The Police are stopping all traffic from moving forward. It must be a bad car accident if they’re doing that. Everyone seems to be pulling over to the side so I’m just going to do the same and wait it out for a bit. I might even grab a coffee. Apologise to the candidates on my behalf and ask if we can re-schedule their interviews for this afternoon.”

Confident that Effie will handle the situation with her usual charm and poise, I hang up from our call and settle in the car to catch up on emails and maybe read copies of the resumes Effie just sent me. Waiting for my laptop to start up, I take a moment to stare out of the window and people watch, knowing that no one can see me through the heavily-tinted glass.

A lean figure of a woman walks up directly in front of my window and reaches for something from her handbag and I’m just about to wind down the window when she begins to comb her beautiful long black hair. My heartbeat quickens as I watch her braid and un-braid her hair. She seems to be arguing with herself, unable to make up her mind which looks better. Braid or no braid and in that moment, I am mesmerised.

***

I’m about 4 minutes into my walk to the Mellark Building when I spot a parked car with darkened windows. Perfect! It’s squeaky clean and I can see my refection so clearly. Looks like someone cares about their car.

I reach for the lip balm first then grab my comb and start to comb out the knots in my hair. Braiding it seems like the best solution.

“Go for the neat and tidy look.” I say to no one, looking deep into my reflection.

“No, it looks too girlish. Out…I should wear it out.” I think better of it and start to remove the hair tie.

“No…it looks too…I don’t even know what it looks like!” I huff.

“Ugh! Maybe I should just cut it all off!” I shout in frustration.

The sound of the car window sliding down leaves me frozen and I am unable to move my legs. A man stares at me with blue eyes and a smile that would light up your darkest day.

“Please don’t! Your hair is perfect.”

I gawk at him and sputter. “Uh…Thanks. I’m late for an interview and I was just trying to-”

His smile widens. “Well, if you’re late, I’m certain they are too. Why don’t you give them a call and explain the situation? I’m sure they’ll understand.”

Looking down the clogged street and footpaths hopelessly, I agree with this stranger’s sound advice. I need this job, and I’ll have no chance at all if I don’t let them know that I’ve been held up.     

I grab my phone and call the secretary who surprisingly, is more than happy to move my interview to later in the day. I thank her and hang up, turning my attention back to the handsome man in the car.

“My interview has been changed to 3pm.” Relief washes over me and I can’t help the wide grin on my face.

“Great! I was just going to get some coffee.” He points to a small café down the way. “Would you like to join me?” 

“Yes. Yes, I would.”

He swings open the door and throws himself out. The movement is quick and ungraceful, and I can’t quiet my chuckle.

With a hint of a blush heating his cheeks, he straightens his jacket and offers me his hand. “Peeta.”

I take his warm hand in mine. “Katniss.”

***

A year later…

“Katniss wake up.” Peeta says as he lays soft kisses on my neck.

“Noooo…Just 5 more minutes.” I moan as I cuddle closer to him.

“Okay.” He chuckles and kisses my bare shoulder before whispering softly in my ear. “Just a little longer but then we need to get up; you don’t want to be late today.”

“It is our wedding day after all.”

The end!

[ultimavolatusrpg]

ACCEPTED // MARGOT NOVAK

21 years old, 91st Hunger Games, FC: Dakota Fanning

Wallflower, Ambitious, Fractured, Easily-Influenced, Detached

tw: extreme violence, abuse, death, mentions of prostitution

ARENA:

A complicated system of underground sewers and subways and tunnels, Margot’s arena was entirely underground. The Cornucopia was in the middle of the complex web, a large atrium where the tunnels emptied mysterious green sludge and the monstrosities they called mutts: oversized rats with poison bites, electronic flies that sucked blood. As a Career, Margot was mostly spared from crawling through the narrowest of the tunnels, opting to stay close to the Cornucopia until it was necessary to begin “hunting.” The lack of hiding places made for a relatively short games, leading to a week and a half of chases through the tunnels after an errant noise was heard echoing down the narrow passageways. 

Margot Novak entered into the arena with her boyfriend, Carian Vox,  though the two of them decided against playing up the “star-crossed-lovers” angle and only revealed an emotional connection to each other once in the arena itself. While in the arena, Margot gained her reputation for being strange in a slightly off-putting way: many watchers commented that the detached and calm way she watched the arena was one of the more memorable parts of the games. 

And what she watched? Her boyfriend going completely and totally savage.  Inspired by the crownless games that happened when they were too young to remember it, Carion wanted to show what the natural conclusion of the Career’s was: unprecedented blood and gore. 

Long before the 91st arena, he roped in Margot, whose ambitions had turned from winning the games to doing whatever Carian wanted. She would drop anything, do anything, spend any money, be any person if she knew it would make Carian smile. So, when he was sixteen and he was eighteen, they volunteered in tandem. Prior to the games, they seemed run-of-the-mill Career tributes, intense and tough but ultimately forgettable, forgettable, forgettable. Until. The bloodbath wasn’t overly fatal, ten deaths in total, but what Carian did before the Capitol could bring up their bodies was unspeakable. He went savage. Think tearing flesh, think cracking bones. Blood gets in your mouth. 

The Capitol liked their blood sports, but they considered themselves civilized: subjecting the entire country to unnecessary mutilation did not go over well with the gamemakers. The Career pack broke up and Margot and Carian received no more support from sponsors, which was a delight to Carian, since this meant it was working: he was disturbing the country. Maybe next they would t h i n k.

Margot had a total of five kills in the games, nothing to scoff at, but she kept the theatrics to Carian. She would be a silent, detached watcher as he shocked the country. Blue eyes looking but not watching. Sometimes, the blood would splatter, stain her pale smooth skin. 

Of course, they killed him. They had to kill him. They weren’t going to have a psychopath for a victor. But he had Margot looking out for him, Margot as his good luck charm, he said. She pulled him out of the way of falling pipes, killed mutts that seemed to lust after his blood and only his blood. But the gamemakers decide what becomes of the games, and luck doesn’t last forever. It ended with her, Carian, and a pair of allies from the outer districts. They were going to let them win. She and Carian didn’t want to win, that wasn’t the point. They had made their point. They were going to let them win. But they killed Carian first, and the girl laughed when she did it. She was so relieved, she killed him with a smile on her face, and something inside Margot S N A P P E D.

The plan was to not fight either of them, the plan was to stand defiant and proud, but instead Margot tackled the girl bodily and slit her throat quickly, kicking her aside and then going for the boy, even while her mind told her to stop, to let him live. She didn’t do that. A  knife through the boy’s eye, throat and chest, fifteen, twenty, thirty times. It was to be the icon of his games, Margot not stopping when the cannon went off, or when they started playing the song, or when the Gamemaker’s voice sounded over the empty arena. Margot Novak didn’t stop fighting. 

Until she did. 

BIOGRAPHY:

MARGOT NOVAK

It’s been five years since Margot Novak was lifted into the sky as she scraped at the empty air, desperate to stay on the ground. 

It’s been five years since Margot Novak had a clear purpose, a destiny. 

It’s been a long five years. 

***

Margot’s father, Abraham, had a simple enough job. He was a Peacekeeper, had always been a Peacekeeper, and was very good at his job. He rose through the ranks, and pretty soon his reputation precedes him.  That reputation, among those who knew him, was not unlike a hammer. When a district stepped out of line–low productivity rates, ripplings of uprising, low morale–he would take over as the head Peacekeeper for a short stint, remind the citizens of the district how good they had it. Cue the public whippings, the crackdowns on black markets, complete lockdown of the district. He was known for his cruelty. His youngest daughter Margot didn’t view him as cruel, though. More of a challenge. As with everything else he was and did in life, Margot’s father was withholding, strict, uncompassionate, and unclear about expectations or instructions. That had just pushed her to impress him. A warmer man wouldn’t have asked anything of her. Abraham asked the world, and Margot was determined to meet it with the sort of intensity found only in little girls. Small and wispy stature be damned, Margot threw herself into the rigorous training of the career academy, not letting anything distract her from her ultimate goal, no,d e s t i n y , of joining District Two’s storied victors. 

Well, almost anything. 

Carian Vox was two years her senior, with dark curls framing his face and cow eyes so sweet and sincere that had the unfortunate habit of making Margot feel like she was melting. It wasn’t the eyes she fell in love with, though. It was the head behind them. Carian Vox was one of the top recruits at the Academy, but he didn’t idolize the old Victors like everybody else. He didn’t want to bring glory to his District, or win riches for himself. He wanted to make a point. His heroes were secret, a hidden sign he held in his heart, the three-note song of the Mockingjay. Despite the overwhelming pressure building up around the country that sometimes seemed centered in Two, Carian believed in Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. He was revolutionary-minded, smart and ambitious, with a big heart that yearned for justice, for freedom. 

He was also a bit  insane.  

(Poor Margot, she doesn’t even realize that now.)

Margot fell in love with his philosophies, his ideas, his dreams. She tied her’s to his. Carian’s dream was this: The Crownless Games showed Panem the cruelty of what happened to the tributes from the Outer Districts, who never even have a chance at anything: not love, not hope, not life. It took the Capitol’s methods to their natural conclusion. And that he did, dying in the arena for his display for gruesomeness. Margot had planned on dying with him, that was the plan that didn’t happen, and Margot found herself a Victor, alive when she hadn’t exactly meant to be.

It seems that Margot left her fight in the arena, at least where the Capitol’s concerned. Immediately following the games, she was questioned by the Gamemakers on what, exactly, was the point of all the violence: had she and Carian simply gone mad? Were the bloodthirsty monsters created by the training academies, or was there something else? Whatever the cause, they made it clear in no uncertain terms that any subversion of the Capitol’s will would not end well for her.

 Margot’s not an idiot, and she hasn’t gone insane, despite what some reports may claim. She’s weighed her options. She’s realized how good she has it. Carian talked of rampant poverty, of murdered children, of corruption, but none of that applied to Margot, not anymore. She lived in a big, beautiful house in the Capitol. She was waited on by avoxes, she never had to worry about money, about work, about anything. Sure, sometimes she had to “entertain” the occasional visitor, but that’s a small and managable torture. A revolution would be worse, and wouldn’t work–God knows Carian’s didn’t. It didn’t change anything at all. She’s chalked up that belief to the blind optimism of youth–her love for Carian was real, the only real thing she’s ever felt, but the dream is dead.

And with Carian dead, she feels like half of her soul has been ripped out at the seams, and she’s unmoored, unsure of her place in this strange new world where she is alive and he is not. She feels amputated and hemophilic, a wound that won’t stop bleeding, will never heal. 

And the Capitol has taken advantage of her passivity. They’ve turned her into a tool, a small weapon of war. After the arena, Margot just wanted to be protected, wanted to continue unbothered by change, after the first sixteen years of her life had been marked by it. They offered her protection, for a price: among the other activities expected of Victors, she has also become something of a little bird for the Capitol: nothing serious, nothing dangerous. But she’s surrounded by Victors, she’s one of them. They trust her, as much as any Victor can trust. So, when something seems off–a rogue comment or complaint, strange behavior–she lets the Capitol know. 

Maybe it made a traitor to her people. A coward. But it also made her safe.

PENNED BY: BRIDG

[ohlovelyvampires]

Au Pair in France, part 3

So, so sorry for the delay. I’ve been meaning to update since June, but it was a tough year. In here you have a super long update to (hopefully) make up for the wait. Happy new year everyone! Lots of love.

There are probably a ton of mistakes in here, I just hope you can read past them and enjoy the story. I wrote this with much love for you guys!

in here you have my AO3 account where you can find the rest of the story: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13174917/chapters/30134580

Warning: explicit sex scenes in this chapter. Read at your own risk.

When Katniss woke up, still in a sleep-induced haze, in a bed that wasn’t her own, her first reaction was panic. That until she recognized the furniture arranged around the room and the colors of the walls. Peeta’s walls.

Oh.

She stretched out her sore limbs, the plush mattress cushioning her body making it infinitely difficult for her to get up and face the music; but the strong smell of coffee reached her nostrils, and as a much as she wanted to lay in bed for a while longer, she wanted coffee much more. Besides, her nightly companion wasn’t in bed either, so there was no reason for her to laze around anymore. The brightness streaming through the blinds proved it was around 7 in the morning. They had gone to bed late last night, but the both were early risers by nature.

As usual, it was fucking freezing in France. And her clothing, or lack thereof, only a pair of panties and a soft cotton shirt, didn’t provide much aide against the feel of sharp needles prickling her sensitive skin. She shivered and looked around the room until she noticed Peeta’s robe hanging from the back of his bedroom door. She didn’t have time to over analyze whether it would be a good idea or not to wear it, her hands already tying the sash around her waist.

She walked barefoot down the stairs, silent as she could be. She heard an enthusiastic whistling around in the kitchen and bit her lip, whether out of nervousness or just to keep herself from smiling, she didn’t know.

Peeta was whistling a happy tune, clearly reflecting his good mood of the day. She couldn’t recognize the melody, until he started singing. She tried not to cringe at his voice, managing to keep in a snort. He once had said to her that he didn’t sing because he sounded like a whining or dying cat, and she’d assured him that probably wasn’t true.

Well, he didn’t sound like a dying cat; but it certainly sounded like a cat that was suffering a lot.

She decided to step in just as he turned around to set a plate on the table. His eyes widened and he instantly stopped singing, choking on his own voice, his cheeks exploding red. She was sure her eyes danced with mirth. “Uh...” Peeta babbled.

“Bonjour?” Katniss elaborated.

He seemed to recover quickly after that, clearing his throat. “Bonjour indeed,” he set the plate, which held fruit, on the table and wiped his hands on his checkered pajama pants, which he completed with a wool sweater over the shirt he had put on the night before. It was an odd combination of sexy and adorable.

The whole combination that represented one-hundred-percent Peeta Mellark, she’d decided.

Neither of them had anything to say, it seemed, since the silence was almost awkward. Peeta studied her from head to toe and smiled upon seeing her in his clothes. He opted for not saying anything regarding Katniss’s attire. “Coffee?”

“Sure,” she gulped. He quickly took a mug from the cupboard and filled it with the dark liquid. He handed her the mug and their fingers brushed. Electricity exploded through her body. Peeta seemed to think the same thing, because he looked at her intently.

“I, uh, I made some omelets,” he scratched the back of his neck. She mentally gave herself a pat in the back for not looking down at the new display of skin above the waistband of his pants or thinking about where that path led to. Or the way his muscles of his arm tightened around the fabric.

Nope, she wasn’t thinking about that at all.

“It smells good,” Katniss said stupidly.

“Well, let’s sit,” he grabbed two plates from the counter and set one in front of her, sitting himself across from her spot. She quickly sat down, willing her stomach not rumble at the smell. She was sure that since she got to France she had to have put up at least 10 pounds or something like that, thanks to Peeta’s cooking.

“Mushrooms and sausage, I know you like them,”

She thought the whole thing was funny; Peeta was only 24, a few years older than her, and he acted so homely. Most guys his age were partying every night, no true direction set on where they wanted to go, meanwhile Peeta handed a house, a business and a kid.

“I do, thanks,” cue more silence. Katniss eyed the empty chair.

“Have you talked to Rye this morning?” she asked and stuffed her mouth with a piece of omelet. She groaned around the fork, and Peeta flushed.

“I did, about 15 minutes ago. He wanted to talk to you but I told him you were sleeping,” he looked at his plate. “At least Finnick mentioned he spent the rest of the night sleeping soundly, no more nightmares,”

She sighed. “That’s a relief, at least,” Peeta nodded in agreement. “Maybe we should go pick him up after breakfast,”

“There’s no need. Finnick said he would drop him off after breakfast before he has to leave for work.”

Katniss’s eyes widened. It was Monday. “Shit.” Whose idea was it to go clubbing on a Sunday night and why would she think it was a good one?

Madge. Never again.

“Wait, aren’t you supposed to be at work?” she eyed the clock hanging from the wall. 7:16. That was way too late for baker’s hours.

“Um, technically, I guess,” he stuttered. “I just, um, I thought I could take the day off. I didn’t want you to wake up alone,”

He blinked, “Although… you did wake up alone, but you know what I mean,”

“Oh,”

Her heart pounded, and the night’s before memories rushed to her. From Peeta’s sudden appearance at the club she was at, to dancing together and finally kissing, to them leaving the establishment together and ending up in his room…

…not much had happened after that, though.

After they got to the house and Peeta, ever the gentleman, made sure she was one-hundred-percent into what could arise between them, he took her up to his room, where he continued lavishing her with his tongue. He took his time undressing her, worshipping her body, everywhere his tongue and lips could reach.

She had been down only to her lingerie, bra and pantie set, while he remained still fully clothed above her. With all the strength she could muster, she pushed him down on the bed next to her and straddled his hips, dry humping his erection. She gasped out loud when it stimulated her clit.

“Merde,” Peeta had groaned.

She ran her hands over his torso, itching to feel the muscles hidden from her prying eyes by his dark shirt. She wasted no more time and inched his shirt up, revealing milky white skin. She stuck his head through the hole and threw the shirt somewhere behind her. Together they unzipped his pants and got him rid of it. The gray boxers he had on did a very poor job on concealing his throbbing erection. She licked her lips self-consciously, Peeta’s stare burning through her.

In a brazen rush of bravery, she grasped his thick erection through the fabric of his underwear and Peeta groaned, thrusting inwardly against her hand. “Katniss,” he looked at her and then down at himself again. She got the message and got off him so he could lift his hips while she pulled the garment down his legs. Her eyes widened at his size, and she gulped a little.

Back in Panem, when Johanna had been helping her pack her bags, she mentioned she had previously read an article –with statistics, Brainless; statistics don’t lie, Johanna had sighed– that said French men were within the smallest range of dick sizes in Europe. Katniss had only rolled her eyes, completely uninterested. Trust Jo to search for Europeans’ dick sizes.

Based on Peeta though, she couldn’t tell whether those statistics Jo mentioned had been all bullshit or if he was the exception, not the rule. Anyhow, she guessed she was lucky. She had never given much thought to a man’s dick, but Peeta Mellark’s cock was worthy of admiration; it was imposing, and it made her feel hot all over, for sure.  

She had her bra unhooked, and it was time for his eyes to widen when her breasts came to view. His hands rose from her thighs where they had been resting previously to her stomach. He threw longing glances at her boobs.

“Can I…?” she took his hands and pressed them against her chest. She heaved a sigh. She expected his hands to be cold, but he was warm. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth while he played with her breasts, massaging them. She moaned, which seemed to spur him on. Baker’s hands, no doubt. At her sighs and moans his eyes widened every time, and he looked at her as if she hung the moon and the stars.

She had never met anyone who looked at her like that. It was a good feeling, she had decided, being looked at so warmly.

With his hands still on her chest she leaned down to kiss him, and she realized how much it turned her on, just kissing him. Even from her own barely-there experience, she could tell he was a great kisser. Their tongues battled, and he groaned against her mouth. Their teeth clashed with the awkward position, so he sat back up and pulled her along, mouths still attached. She could feel her panties soaking wet with her arousal, while Peeta thrust against her, his tip oozing out pre cum, making her panties even wetter. They were still kissing harshly, tongue and lips everywhere, when a shrill sound resonated through the quietness of the room and over the sound of their moans and groans. Katniss ripped her lips from his in surprise.

“Ton portable,” she whispered. It was Peeta’s phone.

“Ignore it,” Peeta mumbled and pulled her mouth back to his, his hand caressing the nape of her neck. He kissed her thoroughly, so hard the sound of the phone actually went deaf to her ears, so much she didn’t even notice when it did stop ringing. Peeta took advantage of the newly recovered peace and lay her down back under him. Her legs opened on their own accord to welcome him in.

Through the closed door, once again, the sound of a phone was heard. The landline. Once again, Peeta didn’t acknowledge the ringing, as if it didn’t exist; and neither of them stopped, lips strongly attached. She didn’t pay attention to when it stopped ringing, but she heard when his cellphone went off again from somewhere in his pants thrown across the floor of the room.

He ripped his lips from her.  “Leave me the fuck alone,” Peeta cursed angrily at whoever was on the other end of the line, sighing.

“Go get it,”

“Really?” he frowned.

“The quicker you get rid of them the quicker we can go back to this with no interruptions,” she grinded against him and his eyes rolled back in blind pleasure. He pressed a fleeting kiss to her forehead and gave her an apologetic stare. She settled back against the pillows and flushed when he turned to give her one a look that burned all the way down to her core.

His face did a complete 180 turn when he finally found his phone and looked at the screen. “Finnick, qu'est que-ce passe? Je suis très occupé,” she didn’t hear what Finnick said, but she saw Peeta’s demeanor change completely. He picked his pants from the floor and winced when he tucked himself in. “Je vais le prendre maintenant,”

Her ears instantly perked up. Pick Rye up? Had something happened? She pulled a sheet over her nearly naked body and looked at Peeta, eyes wide. His back was to her, phone held tightly against his ear. “Peeta?”

He turned at the sound of her voice and looked at her imploringly, as if begging for forgiveness for something he had yet to do. “Bien, laisse moi parler avec lui,” Peeta sat next to her on the bed and pulled his hand over the microphone, “It’s Rye. Apparently he had a bad nightmare, he woke up very scared,”

“Oh,” she frowned. “I’ll go get dressed so we can go get him,”

“Wait a moment,” he said and put the speaker on. They waited in silence until they heard Rye’s voice through the line. He sounded tired and broken. “Papa?”

“Hey little guy,” Peeta said in French. “Finnick mentioned you had a nightmare. Are you okay?”

“I had a bad dream. You were gone,” Rye whispered and her heart wrinkled.

“I’m sorry you had a bad dream, and I know it seems real, but I promise you I’m here, and I’m always going to be here for you. I’m coming to get you,”

“I thought you said you were going out with Katniss,” Rye sounded confused. Peeta looked at her warily.

“Um, we did, son. Go out I mean,” he gulped. His erection still strained against his jeans, but it had softened a bit. She bit her lip. “We’re back home now, and we can go pick you up if you want,”

Rye seemed to think it over. “No thanks,” he said finally, easily.

Katniss blinked. She looked at Peeta, brow furrowed, as if to confirm she had heard Rye right. He seemed troubled too.

“Why not?”

“So you can be alone with Katniss for a while,” Her mouth dropped open, as did Peeta’s. She was pretty sure her cheeks were on fire.

“Um, Rye… Katniss and I…”

“You always look at her funny. Uncle Finnick says they’re called puppy eyes,” She worried her lip and felt Peeta tense up next to her.

“I uh, I think we can discuss that later, Rye,” his cheeks were flushed.

“Okay,” Rye said simply, agreeing.

Peeta looked at her, eyes wild. She gave him a tight, closed lips smile and he slipped his fingers through hers.

Rye and Peeta talked for a while longer, but she tuned out their voices, her brain mushed from tiredness and trying to understand everything they said in French. She was lost in her own thoughts, and her eyes were starting to close. After the club and when they got to the house, she was ready to go all the way with Peeta, but now, after hearing what Rye said, she wasn’t sure that having sex with Peeta would make things easier. Perhaps they both should take some time to think it through before taking that step.

She knew sex could be just sex with some people. But Katniss had a feeling it wouldn’t be just sex between Peeta and her.

Peeta was on the phone with Rye for about 20 minutes, until the little boy’s sentences were nothing more than quiet mumbles, and after he talked to Finnick, who encouraged him to go back to what he was doing.

“Who you’re doing, wink, wink,” Finnick cajoled through the line. At some point Katniss had gotten tired of sitting on the edge of the bed and moved back against the headboard.

“Call me if anything else happens, douchebag,” Peeta rolled his eyes good-naturedly before hanging up. He rolled back and sat next to her. He sensed the change in the atmosphere, and didn’t try to initiate anything, didn’t even try to take her hand. Physically, they were sitting side by side, but emotionally they were miles away. Or at least she was; she couldn’t tell with Peeta.

“The mood is officially ruined by now,” he tried to joke. She threw a quick glance at his lap. Yup, no visible erection. And she wasn’t exactly wet either, just sitting there uncomfortably, trying not to squirm at the remains of her arousal between her legs and previously soaked panties.

“Did I fuck up?” he had asked in the dark, switching back to English. She instantly shook her head no.

“You did nothing wrong,”

“Then why do I feel something is broken?” she felt his eyes burning through her in the dark.

“Nothing is broken, I assure you. I just… tend to overanalyze everything and those minutes you talked to Rye gave me some time to think, and maybe this,” she motioned to their bodies, “shouldn’t happen right this second.”

Peeta nodded rigidly. “I know what you mean, and I totally respect that,”

“But?”

He chuckled. “No buts, I just really wanted this to happen,”

She looked at him pointedly, “I didn’t say it wasn’t going to happen, just that it shouldn’t happen right now. Maybe it could happen in a month or a year, or tomorrow even, who knows?” she saw Peeta sit up straighter at that. She tried not to smile at his enthusiasm.

“I just think that we should… let it simmer for a while, see what happens. And, meanwhile, think it through. The consequences, I mean,” she finished.

“I have given it more than one thought to the consequences, believe me. I know many things could go wrong, but I thought I’d be an idiot not to give it a try and tell you how I feel,” He shrugged. “And I did. You didn’t say much after, but at least I know you want me too,” he grinned cockily and glanced at her crotch.

She blushed and rolled her eyes, not really annoyed.

“Well, um, I’ll think some more for the both of us.”

“Sure, whatever makes you feel more comfortable,” his smirk was still present on his face.

“What’s with the smug look?” she scowled.

He laughed. “Nothing at all. I think you’re just delaying the inevitable, Katniss, but whatever makes you sleep better at night,”

She sputtered indignantly. “You’re so confident, aren’t you?” this was a new façade of Peeta she had yet to see. Bolder, prouder, flirtier. She didn’t hate it, not one bit. It made him even sexier.

She wasn’t about to tell him that though.

“I would say that, yeah,” Peeta shrugged, but he traded his smug smirk for the soft smile that was indistinctively Peeta.

She bit her lip, feeling her lips inch upwards. “Well, I, uh, I guess I’ll be going back to my own room now,”

His face fell, although he tried to hide it. “You don’t have to,” she imagined he tried to sound nonchalant, but she could hear the nervousness creeping in.

“Peeta–”

“No, seriously, I know what you just said, but it doesn’t have to be more than really sleeping. I promise,” he bit his lip and looked at her imploringly. Now, looking directly at him, she could understand what Finnick said about Peeta’s puppy eyes. They were a blue so rich and intense she felt them burning through her organism, and she had the sudden urge to lean forward and kiss him, all her insecurities about their relationship be damned.

Instead she compromised with an “okay,” and lay next to him. She was still only in her panties, and Peeta in his jeans.

Walking to the closet, he pulled out a pair of pants and two shirts. He handed one to her and went to change in the bathroom while she put the shirt over her own head.  When he came out of the bath, he settled on the bed within a respectable distance from her. The both of them seemed to have a difficult time falling asleep, too aware of the other’s presence. Katniss thought she gave in first. Her breaths evened out before Peeta’s, and she was asleep.

All that had happened the night before.

Right that moment, she was transported back to taking breakfast with Peeta because her foot bumped his accidently under the table. He stared at her, nervous look in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure, just thinking,”

“You do a lot of that,” he accused, but not unkindly. She saw his lips curl upwards around his fork. She snorted.

“Well, one of us has to,” she bickered back good naturedly, giving him a small smirk to let him know she was joking. Peeta gave up trying to contain his smile and dazzled her with a full on grin. She nearly felt her panties drop and her breath accelerate. Damn him.

“Is there anything you’d like to do today?” he asked. “I can stay with Rye if you’ve got any plans,”

She scowled. “Peeta, you pay me to take care of Rye. You can go to work after breakfast and I’ll wait for Rye. We’ll figure out a way to distract ourselves in here and I’ll cook anything for lunch, and in the afternoon I can take him to the mall to see Santa or something,”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s my job. It’s in my contract. I don’t want whatever happened last night between us to jeopardize my job.” she sighed. “This is what I was afraid of,”

“No, you’re right,” he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Thanks for being so considerate though,” she looked down and felt her cheeks burning up. “You’re really sweet,”

Peeta gave her a genuine smile and they continued eating breakfast in silence. Between the two of them they picked up the table, and later had a small discussion about who would wash the dishes.

“You already cooked! Let me do the dishes,” Katniss insisted.

“I’m telling you I don’t mind. Stop being stubborn,” Peeta argued back until they got to a compromise. “You wash, I’ll dry.” Katniss figured it was the best answer she’d get.

He stood dutifully by her side while she soaped and rinsed the dishes, drying every plate, glass and silverware piece she threw his way. Once she was finishing up with the last plate her fingers were wrinkled like raisins, which made the hose slip from her grip.

The water pressure made the hose fly, effectively splashing the front of her –Peeta’s– robe, who cackled at her soaking garments. She jumped and hissed at the cold temperature against her abdomen.

“Told ya you should have let me take the washing station,” Peeta joked knowingly after composing himself a little, still giving out a few chuckles.

“Oh really?” she didn’t know what possessed her to do it, but before her mind could go back, her hands were grasping the still running hose in the sink and pointing it directly at Peeta, soaking his front.

“Fuck!” he cursed and tried to block the stream of water attacking him. She quickly shut the water, thinking she might have gone too far once she caught a glimpse of Peeta’s clothes. His pants were sticking to his impressively toned legs and his sweater was dripping wet. He threw her a look.

“Shit, Peeta–”

“So that’s how it’s going to be,” he whispered darkly. In an instant, his hands held the hose and he pointed it threateningly at her body. He grinned.

“You wouldn’t,” Katniss held a hand up in a pacing gesture.

“Oh, no, I certainly would,” and with those words he opened the faucet at a softer pressure, and let the water hit her. She screeched and cursed.

The sink still held water and bubbles from the soap, so she threw her hands in and splashed him with the bubbles. From the surprise he let go of the hose and it fell against the counter head-down, wetting the floor. Neither of them seemed to care, instead Peeta copied her own technique and splashed her with the bubbles. The water was still running at their feet, and she couldn’t imagine how much the upcoming water bill would be.

Eventually, the water from the sink ran out, and they were soaking wet from head to toe. Peeta had the insight to shut the faucet, but the kitchen was already flooding. Peeta had a hat made out of bubbles, and she could feel her own chest and neck slippery. They were laughing hard; Peeta sat on the floor to recover his breath and groaned when his ass got completely soaked. Katniss laughed even harder.

“What a mess,” she mumbled after their laughter had died down.

“We’ll spend the rest of the day cleaning this up,” Peeta whined maturely. She eyed him, “You’re not thinking I’ll let you clean this up by yourself, are you?”

“Then we should be getting started,” she gave him a hand to help him up, but Peeta pulled too hard on her hand and she slipped on the wet floor. He braced her fall by grabbing her around the waist, and she fell half across his lap. “Shit,”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure,”

Peeta looked down, checking her over but his eyes widened by her chest. “You, uh, the soap…”

She looked down and withheld a gasp. The robe had loosened around her chest, and the white shirt was completely see-through due to their water war. Her nipples were perked and pointy thanks to the cold. Peeta gulped. And she was still on his lap.

“I should go get changed,”

“Yeah, you should,” neither moved though. Peeta started fingering some loose strand of hair that fell over her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. She didn’t know what was it about his eyes, but his stare always burned right through her body, from head to toe. She was the one who gave in first and joined their lips together.

Peeta’s arms instinctively wrapped around her waist and pressed her against his chest tightly. She settled her legs on either side of him to be more comfortable while he thrust his tongue in her mouth. She welcomed him openly, sucking greedily. He moaned low in his throat. One arm was around her waist and the other on the nape of her neck to keep her close, while her own fingers played with his damp golden locks. There was a lot of saliva and teeth and certainly lots of tongue, and she loved it. After sucking on his tongue, he started nipping lightly her bottom lip; it was her time to groan.

Before she realized it, his erection was between her legs, straining against the fabric that separated their cores. Very lightly, experimentally, he thrust his hips against hers. Grinding together, lips attached, it was one of the most erotic moments of her life. The angel on her shoulder screamed hypocrite! You were the one who told him to wait, while the devil on the other side whispered tauntingly you have been patient. The both of you. You deserve this.

She didn’t know which side to hear, but let their hips continue their own sensual dancing while their lips kept attacking the other’s. She was sure their lips were bruised and swollen; hers were already starting to feel tender, but she didn’t want to stop, and judging the way Peeta kept kissing her, he didn’t want to stop either. It could have been minutes or hours since their lips had been brought together, although she didn’t know nor cared.

The doorbell rang. Their own personal cockblocker.

Peeta did the same as the night before: nothing. He let whoever was on the other side of the door waiting. “Fuck them,”

“It’s not them I want to fuck,” she moaned around his lips as he kissed her even harder at her words.

When the doorbell rang again, she tried to convince herself that whoever was on the other side of the door would leave. Except…

“Papa!” the sound came muffled through the door. Rye.

They separated like guilty children in a beat. She had forgotten Finnick would be dropping Rye off, and apparently so had Peeta. “Shit.”

“We can’t leave them out there,” if the inside of the house was cold, the outside was 10 times worse. She looked down between them where Peeta’s erection was still straining against his pants. She pulled herself together and tied the sash up to nearly her neck. “I’ll go,” before she got up he gave her one last kiss, a whisper of his lips against hers.

“This seems familiar,” Peeta whispered against her lips, looking down at his dick. He had to have blue balls by now. She snorted and pulled away.

At the door, she welcomed Finnick and Rye into the foyer, as the low temperature prickled her skin fiercely. Rye moved to throw his arms around her, but she kept him at arms’ length until he noticed her wet get up. Both Finn and Rye gave her a confused look as to why she was so wet everywhere, but Finnick paired it with a salacious grin. She glared and screamed with her eyes for him not to say a word.

“Katniss, what happened?” Rye asked.

“Um, I had a little accident with the hose in the sink,”

“Are you sure that was the only hose you were handling?” Finn laughed. Rye looked confused. Katniss was sure she looked murderous.

“Rye, there’s a huge mess in the kitchen and I have to clean it up, so why don’t you go play with some toys while we get everything together,”

Right that moment, Peeta walked out of the kitchen, also dripping wet. He must have trapped his erection with the waistband of his briefs to hide it, because it didn’t look as pointy as it did just a second ago. Rye jumped into his arms, getting the front of his shirt wet, and Peeta winced. Katniss pretended she didn’t notice, but Finn certainly did. Cue, the devil grin.

“Dad, why are you wet too? Did you two went swimming without me? It’s too cold for swimming. Why did you go swimming?” Rye complained.

“No, of course we wouldn’t do that! We just had a little problem with the hose in the sink,”

“Man, you don’t even know how to handle your own hose?” Finnick laughed again and it was Peeta’s turn to glare. More softly, Peeta convinced Rye to go play in the living room for a while, letting them deal with the mess in the kitchen. The boy ran off to play but not before hugging Finn and shouting out a “Thanks uncle Finnick!”

“Any time rugrat!” he waited until Rye was out of earshot before directing his attention to them. Quietly, he whispered, “Now, I’m sure me and Annie will be babysitting more often based on your disheveled looks and swollen lips. Peet, I think you still have some saliva right here,” Finnick pointed at his own chin and laughed even harder when Peeta wiped off some nonexistent saliva. Katniss scowled.

“Has anyone told you that you’re the best cockblocker there is? Besides being a real pain in the ass,” Peeta grumbled.

“Yes, I do have heard that before,” Finn confirmed.

“Thanks for taking care of Rye and dropping him off, and say thanks to Annie as well. You may leave now,”

“Okay, okay, I know when I’m not wanted.” He held up his hands in surrender. “Try to keep it clean in front of Rye would you?” he laughed, but neither of them found the joke funny.

“Yeah, yeah, asshole, thanks.” She flipped him off and paddled into the kitchen, trying not to slip.

“Bye Kitty!” she heard Finnick and Peeta talking in rapid succession in the living room, not really being able to make out what they were saying. Instead, she got to work and started sweeping water into the drain, trying as much as possible to keep it from running into the foyer; although she imagined with her and Peeta walking soaking wet to greet Rye and Finnick, the entrance mustn’t have been too dry either.

Peeta finished his conversation with Finnick not too long after and did the same as her. Once the floor was dry enough, they moped it and let it dry on its own. Thankfully, only some water had splashed the countertops, nothing that couldn’t be solved with a passing of a dry cloth.

“Is it going to be this awkward every time we make out?” Peeta questioned in between the thick silence. They heard Rye quietly talking to himself, playing with his action figures, and Peeta kept his voice down so Rye wouldn’t hear them.

“I hope not,” she bit her lip, also speaking in a low tone. “How’s your erection doing?”

“Nearly nonexistent now, thanks for asking.” He chuckled. More seriously he added, “did it feel natural to you? Being with me like that, I mean. Because I swear nothing has felt as easy to me,”

“You’re saying I’m easy?” she cocked a hand on her hip.

“What? No! I- fuck, I,” he babbled. “You know that’s not what I mean. You’re very stubborn, no doubt, and certainly not, um,” he gulped. “easy, anything but, in fact, although in the best way possible! Ah foutre, –what I meant is that for me it feels so natural being with you. Not only, uh, making out. Just doing mundane things like the dishes or eating,” He gestured around them, “or moping the floor. It feels right,” Peeta rambled on. She thought it was cute.

She blushed. “The problem has never been that it doesn’t feel right,” because it did feel right. So much. “I just worry about how it might affect our professional agreement.”

“You kissed me just a few minutes ago,” Peeta shrugged. “Not that I’m complaining.”

She huffed. “I know. It was a moment of weakness. I know that makes me a complete hypocrite because less than twelve hours ago I was just saying how we should give this time and here I am kissing you, but…”

“I know,” he took her hand and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles. “I promise I’m not trying to pressure you. I’ll be patient, I promise. I’ll wait as long as I have to,”

“Why?”

“Because you’re amazing.” He said simply. “I’ve never met anyone like you, and I’m not sure I ever will. You have to take a chance when incredible things like this happen. Really, Katniss, you don’t know the effect you have on people,”

The honesty in his eyes surprised her, and she knew he wasn’t lying. If all he wanted was meaningless sex or a one-night stand, he wouldn’t risk complicating his relationship with his son’s nanny. She didn’t like getting attached, didn’t like losing people she loved, because that’s all she had ever learned to do.  And now she knew that one night of just sex wouldn’t be enough with Peeta, because he clearly wanted more.

“Thank you,” she said, ordering her voice not to demonstrate just how scared and insecure she really felt. He kissed her hand again and then let go, each continuing with their cleaning tasks. Neither the walls nor the roof had been harmed; the floor received all the water damage. With the kitchen looking spotless, they waddled like penguins to their respective rooms to take a warm shower and get dressed. Peeta took Rye with him, insisting he needed help shampooing his hair.

Inside the warm shower, all she wanted to do was stay under the hot stream cascading over her for the rest of her life so she could be alone with the thoughts crawling around her head, but Peeta would be going to work soon and she needed to tend to Rye, so a 5-minute shower would have to do. The water service was cheaper after 10 pm, so maybe once Rye and Peeta were in bed she could opt for her long, relaxing bath.

She toweled her body off, remembering Peeta’s touch running over her skin. His fingers around her nipples, his lips on her neck, her own hands in his hair… she shivered. She knew she desired him, there was no questioning. She just wondered how long she could hold on.

Putting those dirty thoughts away, she dressed comfortably in a sweater and some yoga pants. With a pair of fuzzy socks on her feet, she walked to the living room while braiding her hair. The living room was fine except for a few toys scattered around, the ones Rye had just been playing with, and finally the kitchen had dried completely. Everything seemed to be in order. She heard Rye and Peeta still upstairs, probably getting dressed. She noticed her purse thrown near the couch, surely from her and Peeta’s haste to get upstairs when they got home the night before. Her phone was still inside and she hadn’t checked it since getting to the club.

There wasn’t much in her cell, a few greeting texts from Thom and Gale asking if she was still alive, which made her realize she’d been a pretty shitty friend lately. She vowed to FaceTime them when they got together to see all of them. Additionally, she had a text from Johanna from this morning and, surprisingly, two from Madge dated from early hours of the morning.

Jo: how did it go with your man candy? 4:42 am

She briefly texted Jo to let her know “I have no man candy!”, but it wasn’t even 9 am yet, which meant that it was around three in the morning in Panem. Jo was probably asleep. Then she read Madge’s texts.

Madge: got home okay? 1:17 am

Madge: Cato asked me for your number, said you left unexpectedly. Should I give it to him? 1:59 am

Oh fuck. Cato.

Katniss didn’t consider herself to be a bad person. Sure, she could be rude and not exactly pleasant, and she didn’t smile much, and she wasn’t big on physical affection, and she wasn’t a people person, unlike Peeta. Regardless of all that, she had never really had bad intentions with anyone. But now she knew that what she had done the night before to Cato had been cruel. She had been really shitty. For God’s sake, she had put on her nice underwear thinking about a what if with Cato and had ended up broadcasting it to Peeta instead.

And it wasn’t as if she didn’t like Cato! They had been having a perfectly nice time before Peeta showed up; there had been some sexual tension in there for a while and he was good looking and nice and kind, too. Despite all that, truth was, in her eyes, Cato couldn’t hold a candle to Peeta, but regardless he didn’t deserve how she had discarded him the night before, without even much as an explanation or even a farewell. She felt sick with herself.

Katniss: sure, give it to him. Thanks 8:44 am

She didn’t wait for Madge’s answer because two sets of footsteps pounded down the stairs. On the couch, Rye burrowed into her side with his Nintendo DS in his hands and she pressed a kiss to his golden hair, which was now wet from his shower. He was dressed in some pants and a long sleeved sweater.

He was the only (little) man who wasn’t making her life complicated at the moment.

Her first complication stood in front of them clad in his work uniform: a pair of washed up jeans –that made her want to tear them from his body with her teeth– and a cotton white shirt with the boulangerie’s logo placed over his heart. Symbolic, she thought.

“Well, since everything seems to be under control in here, I should get going to work,” Peeta scratched the back of his head. From him emanated a delicious manly smell of aftershave and perfume. She shivered.

“Pinky promise you won’t be back late!” Rye stood up in a flash from her side and held up his pinky. Peeta took it and wrapped it around his own finger.

“I’ll be back by 5, okay buddy? We can cook dinner together later. I love you.” He opened his arms and Rye wasted no time in jumping into them. She eyed Peeta and their eyes met behind Rye’s head.

5 pm? Their original agreement was that Peeta wouldn’t be back until 8 or 9 pm because he usually stayed behind to deal with the books and such. He saw her confused stare and mouther later at her. She nodded unquestioningly.

After Peeta placed Rye down, he burrowed next to her once again, console in hand. Peeta looked at them warmly. He seemed to sway back and forth, debating on whether holding her would be a good idea. Instead, he settled for pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head when Rye wasn’t looking. Katniss blushed. She could already feel things changing between them, and she didn’t exactly hate it, but she was definitely afraid. She had always been a coward when it came to feelings.

Rye kept himself entertained for a while with his video game, meanwhile she watched him play Mario Bros and laughed every time he jumped over a turtle and ended up being killed by its shell. Mario did its job for almost an hour, but eventually Rye got bored and threw the console aside.

“Alright, tyke. What do you want to do?”

“Can we make some cookies?”

Katniss sighed. She was completely useless when it came to baking. And she hated wasting perfectly good ingredients when she knew the results would come out pathetic. “Rye…”

“Pleeeeease?” the boy had inherited his father’s charm, no doubt. When he looked at her with those round, blue eyes, Katniss knew she was a sucker for Mellark men.

Unsurprisingly, Rye was the one who led her through the whole process of baking, as he had been baking with Peeta since he could walk. They settled for sugar cookies since it was the recipe Rye knew best. He was on mixing duty, while her job was looking for the ingredients he couldn’t reach on his own and handling the oven and the three trays, which held  half a dozen cookies each.

“It’s good,” Rye said around the wooden spoon he was licking.

“Yeah,” she said around her own spoon. He was sitting on the counter in front of her while she stood concentrated on eating the cookie dough from her spoon. They were waiting for the oven to beep.

Katniss eyed the empty bowl. “Don’t tell your father we ate all that was left of the dough,”

Rye held up his right hand. “You have my word, mademoiselle,” she smiled. Ever so charming; the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. “Can we take Santa some cookies later? We can go see him at the mall,”

“I don’t see why not. We can go after your nap. That way you can tell him what you want for Christmas,” she knew Peeta was a little nervous because it was already mid-December and Rye had yet to conclude what he wished for Christmas. Peeta had already bought some gifts, but he wasn’t sure it was exactly what Rye wanted. The boy had had a rough year, with his mother leaving and all, so Peeta wanted to make Christmas extra special.

“You think Santa will give me what I want?”

She frowned. “Why wouldn’t he? You are a very good boy. As long as you don’t ask for a brand new car or a pony or a spaceship, I think we’re fine,” she tickled his sides until he laughed. Katniss was suddenly very afraid that he would ask for something heartbreaking, like wishing to spend the holidays with his mother. She wasn’t sure how Peeta could explain that.

“Sorry son, no can do. Your mother is a heartless woman and she doesn’t want anything to do with you. Better luck next year, though. Here, have this Iron Man mask instead,”  

Yeah, that would go well.

She washed the dirty dishes and Rye dried, dutifully by her side until the oven beeped. She set the cookies out on the counter to cold in a bowl and Rye stood next to it, waiting every second until he could grab one. When they no longer oozed out steam, she gave him the go ahead and he wasted no time in biting into the cookie.

He nodded approvingly and she tried not to laugh at the serious look on his face. “Daddy will like them,”

She bit one cookie. She had to agree; by being done by a 4-year-old and a useless-in-the-kitchen 21-year-old, they were not bad at all, especially considering it was their first attempt at baking together all on their own devices. Crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside and sugary everywhere.

With all the cookie baking and cleaning, it was already past 11 in the morning, almost noon, which meant she had to get started on lunch, even if neither of them were hungry thanks to all the cookie dough-eating, they would get hungry eventually. Best to get it over with.

Rye hated lunch duty, so he sat quietly on the kitchen table to draw while she made something quick for the two of them, some creamy chicken and herbs to go with pasta. While she prepped the food, she debated with herself whether they should take Peeta some lunch too. It wasn’t something she usually did, delivering him homemade food to the bakery, but that day she felt like she wanted to. Doubtful, she called him.

He didn’t waste too much time on answering. “Hello,”

“Hi,”

“Hey, how are you two doing?”

“Just fine,” she bit her lip and paced around the kitchen. “I’m making some lunch for later. I was just, uh, wondering what you’re eating.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Haven’t really given it a thought. Things have been a little hectic since I got here earlier, so I haven’t really thought about lunch,” she could almost hear him scratching the back of his neck.

“Let me guess, the boulangerie was falling apart without you,”

He chuckled. “No, I ah, can’t really give myself that much credit. I have a good right hand in here.” She was pretty sure he meant his Dad, or even Thresh, until she heard a girlish giggle in the back.

What the fuck?

Could it be possible he was flirting with Delly while she was right on the other side of the line? When he had her naked underneath him the night before and soaking wet on his lap in the kitchen floor just that morning?

She wanted to smack herself. She had never been a jealous girl. Like, never. And she wasn’t about to start now.

She had to remember Peeta was a friendly person, sometimes too friendly, so much that the lines between friendliness and coquetry could blur a little bit. She had to stop worrying about Delly and… now the missing condoms. Fuck, no, she wasn’t thinking about that at all now. Nope.

“Katniss, are you there?” his melodic voice resonated through her ears. It was pathetic, really, how weak in the knees it made her.

“Mhmm, yeah, no. Sorry, I just zoned out,”

“Oh, okay. Well, about lunch-”

“Yeah, do you mind if I call you later? I just remembered I left the water running,” she made up.

“Ah, sure, no probl-” she hung up the phone. Instantly, she set a larger pot on high fire and filled it with water to cook the pasta.

“Rye, get your shoes.” She called into the living room. “We’re gonna pay your dad a visit,” she didn’t care about asking first; she was going to take him lunch. She had to be spontaneous every once in a while, right?

While waiting for the water to boil, she heard her phone go ding. She imagined it was Peeta, but she didn’t think it would be Cato.

Unknown: hey, morning. It’s Cato 11:57 am

“Fuck,” she cursed out loud. Rye raised his head. “Don’t repeat that.”

She saved Cato’s number and texted him back.

Katniss: hi. 11:59 am

Wow, very good Katniss. Very articulate.

Cato: so… 12:00 pm

Katniss: listen, I’m really sorry about last night. I know I was a complete a-hole and I just left without saying anything, and you deserve so much better, because you’re really nice and I’m not good with words and I’m just really sorry 12:04 pm

Cato: thanks for your apology, although I would really like to talk this out in person. Meet me later for coffee? 12:10 pm

Katniss: can’t. I’m working all day. Babysitter and all 12:11pm

Cato: I don’t mind.  You can bring your kid. We can meet at a McDonalds or smth so they play around in the park 12:13 pm

Would it really be a good idea? Taking Rye behind Peeta’s back to meet with Cato? Well, it wasn’t as if they would be doing something improper. They’ll just talk; she figured that after leaving him behind on Sunday night, the last thing she could do was granting him a face-to-face meeting so he could call her ugly names to her own face.

Katniss: fine. Meet me at 5 at the McDonalds in Cours 12:19 pm

Cato texted back his agreement and that was that, a meeting was set up. She just hoped Peeta wouldn’t get mad for taking Rye with her. She hoped she was doing the right thing. Maybe she should ask him first. Yes, that’s what a responsible adult taking care of someone else’s child would do.

The water boiled behind her and she added a pinch of salt. She threw spaghetti in; it was Rye’s favorite. She nearly burned her hand with the hot bubbles, lost in her own swirling thoughts. Maybe Peeta was right; maybe she did think too much.

Rye was still drawing quietly on the table, humming Mickey Mouse Clubhouse’s themed song. She smiled and inched closer, sitting next to him. He didn’t even look up as she took a sheet of paper and some crayons he wasn’t using and started drawing.

She didn’t even know what she wanted to draw, instead letting her fingers move on their own. In the end she got a meadow with green tall grass and bright blue skies; not good by any standards, unlike Peeta’s own portraits, but she rejoiced in the fact that it’d been a while since she had allowed herself to do such mundane things like drawing.

Her sister enjoyed to do it as well. After she died, Katniss could barely see colored pencils, for it brought her a wave of too dark feelings. Much less draw.

To finish the picture, she drew a small girl with sun-colored tresses weaved into two braids, wearing a long skirt with a wrongly tucked in shirt. She hoped she was imagining her eyes burning.

“Ohh,” Rye brought her back. “It’s good. Who’s that?” he pointed to Prim.

“Someone I used to know.” She answered nonchalantly. She hastily folded the paper and tucked it inside a drawer in the kitchen. She’d retrieve it later when Rye didn’t notice so he wouldn’t ask any more questions. As much as she cared for him, there were some parts of her life she wasn’t ready to share with the kid, much less Peeta.

The pasta was already done by then. She strained it and mixed it with the chicken sauce she’d made. She divided it into three take-out containers and packed each with a set of silverware inside a lunchbox.

Rye already had his shoes on. She left him quietly drawing, making sure everything in the kitchen was turned off, and went to change into some jeans, two t-shirts, a sweater and a jacket, and a pair of boots to handle off the cold. Next she bundled Rye up like a penguin and with one hand in his, and the other holding their food, they walked to the car Peeta had lend her.

It wasn’t a long ride to the boulangerie. Rye chattered the whole way; it was clear he was excited by the prospect of visiting his father at work. Katniss made a mental note to do it more often, seeing as it made the little boy so happy.

When they pulled up in front of the familiar dark-wooded establishment, she felt a sense of comfort. Behind the cakes’ display she could see a line inside. She unbuckled Rye and hand in hand they walked inside.

The warmth greeted her like a hug. As if the ovens from the back weren’t enough, the chimney was also lit. It was all so homey and comfortable.

She took a look at the line, which consisted only on about five or six people. Lunch rush must have already passed. Delly was handling the cashier and threw her and Rye a grin when she spotted them, going back to the client in front of her. Rye waved and Katniss tried not to grimace too much.

Thresh was serving customers. He greeted the pair by also grinning and throwing a hand towards the back, where she assumed Peeta was. Rye went ahead of her towards the back, fist-bumping with Thresh as he passed by. Katniss sent his way a small smile and followed Rye. She could already hear him shouting for his father.

When she walked inside the kitchen, Peeta was kneeled in front of Rye, his arms enveloping him in a hug. His eyes focused on her behind his son’s head and she could swear his eyes shone a tad brighter. Maybe it was just her imagination, although she hoped not.

“We brought you lunch,” Katniss raised the lunchbox she was carrying.

Peeta led them to his office and they sat on the small table he kept there to eat. Rye sat in between them and dug into his lunch as soon as Katniss set it in front of him. Peeta waited for her to sit until he started eating alongside her. She had to admit that for being nearly useless in the kitchen, pasta was good. Rye and Peeta seemed to agree, judging by how fast they ate. She sighed. Men.

“To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?” Peeta asked, wiping around his mouth with a napkin.

She shrugged, not looking up from her plate. “You didn’t have lunch, and I made extra pasta, so I thought why not?”

“Well, I’m so glad you did. It was the best lunch I’ve had in a while,” Katniss raised an eyebrow and mouthed bullshit. Peeta snorted. “No really, thank you so much.”

“De rien,” Rye chirped in from between them, fumbling with the last noodles from his plate. Katniss smiled and helped him get a hold and get them inside his mouth. “We made sugar cookies!” he said happily after swallowing. Katniss wiped around his mouth and he giggled.

“You did?” Peeta raised a brow. Rye nodded. “Well, I can’t wait to try them when I get home later.”

“Rye did a very good job,” Katniss said proudly. “I just handed him the ingredients and handled the oven.” Rye grinned and shrugged modestly.

“I am pretty cool.” She and Peeta laughed loudly.

They remained talking a while longer until Katniss realized they were keeping him from work. “Rye, I think it’s time we go. Your dad needs to work, and you should take your nap.”

“I’m not tired,” he complained, but as he said it he rubbed his eyes and let loose a yawn. Katniss bit her lip.

“Katniss is right little man. I really enjoyed you coming to visit but now I really need to work so I can get out early and we can make dinner together.” She knew Peeta had him there.

“Fine,” Rye compromised and the three stood up.

“Go say hi to Grandpa. I think he just got back from running errands,” the boy ran out. She’d forgotten about Peeta’s dad. She didn’t notice she was looking after Rye until Peeta called her name. Together they picked the plates and silverware and stuffed them inside the lunchbox.

“He’ll be fine. My dad’s just through the door.” She nodded. “I, uh, really enjoyed lunch. It was very nice of you.”

She smiled. “It was no problem. I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she didn’t let on she convinced herself to do it after a jealousy-induced confrontation with her mind.

The air grew thick with an indescribable feeling. She tried not to groan at how much she wanted to throw herself at him. She noticed Peeta raise his hand to tuck in a loose strand of hair behind her ear, but he didn’t remove it; instead he rested his palm against her cheek and she found herself leaning against it.

Boldly, she closed the space between them and pressed their lips together. The kiss wasn’t like the others they’d shared; this was slow and tender, chaste at best. Soft pressing of lips together, sighs against the other’s mouth. She couldn’t decide if she liked these or the hard and passionate kisses better. She figured she loved kissing Peeta in whichever way it was.

Their lips didn’t seem to tire, wanting to remain attached, but their lungs screamed for air. Reluctantly, she was the first to break apart and nearly melted at the look full of adoration he gave her.

She was pretty sure she could die right there, and then Peeta started delivering soft, tender kisses all over her face; eyelids, forehead, nose, temples, cheeks, chin. She sighed in contentment and felt the butterflies in her stomach doing furious flutters.

“You’re too much,” he whispered, voice awed. “I know you’re scared, but just know that I’ll take you in any way I can have you. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Even if I decide that you and I being romantically involved is not a possibility?” she wasn’t sure if she was teasing or not.

“I would certainly hate to say goodbye to kissing your lips, being as amazing as they are. And your soft cheeks,” his thumbs rubbed her cheekbones slowly. “and your cute button nose.” He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose and then to her forehead. “and your forehead. But your wish is my command, mademoiselle. I just want to make you happy,”

“You do,” she whispered back. “so much.” Her eyes shut and their foreheads rested together.

And she meant it. She hadn’t realized just how much of a part Peeta had played in her happiness ever since she had gotten to France. He always took care of her, asking if she was okay or if she needed anything; he always made her laugh and he made her feel part of his family. He was her comfort. She had been so afraid of letting him in that she hadn’t realized her walls were already down.

Katniss stroked his face tenderly. “Don’t get back too late tonight,” it was an unspoken promise they both understood. He nodded against her skin and kissed her forehead one last time before they walked out of the office together.

Peeta’s father greeted her with a grin and a hug, as always. Rye was in one of his arms and he wrapped the other around Katniss. Jean Mellark was the older version of Peeta, kindness and all.

“Qu'est-ce que vous ferez cette soirée ?” Jean asked her. Sometimes she had to think before responding; he didn’t speak English, and Katniss’s level of French could have probably been considered A2 at best.

Shit. She’d forgotten to ask Peeta about her evening plans with Rye and Cato.

“Um, well,” she looked at Peeta. “I was thinking I could take Rye to McDonalds or something so he can play in the park. A friend of mine asked me to meet him and he suggested McDonalds so I can take Rye with me,”

“Oh,” he frowned a little, obviously not missing the him. “That’s fine. Uh, what time?”

“Around 5,”

“Oh,” he repeated. “Well, I was planning on getting home around that time, but I can stay a little later getting some work done until you both get home.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am,” he gave a tight-lipped smile that didn’t seem very real to her. “Just do what you need to do.”

“Thanks,” then she turned back to Jean and told him she’d be taking Rye to McDonalds later, to which the boy squeaked and grinned.

She and Rye got going, and after waving goodbye to Jean and the rest of the staff, they walked to the car with Peeta behind them. He got his son buckled in and kissed his cheek, then he stepped next to her window and she rolled it down. He still looked a little troubled.

His hand rested on the door, and she took it and gave what she hoped was a tight, comforting squeeze. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. Trust me,” she smiled.

His eyes lost the worry a little, instead being replaced by warmth. “You know I trust you. I just, shit…” he didn’t elaborate any further.

“See you tonight. I promise,” she threw him a longing glaze and he backed away from the car so she could drive away. She didn’t miss the light smile grazing his lips.

Rye fell asleep five minutes down the road. She snorted; kids hated their schedules but they didn’t realize just how dependent they were of it. Katniss herself was like that too. Once upon a time she had had to follow a schedule religiously, otherwise she would have lost her mind completely.

Instead of wallowing in her thoughts, she continued the ride in silence and enjoyed the view. France really did have much to offer, and she was lucky she got to see it.

Even if she was freezing her ass off.

When they got home, she quickly unbuckled Rye and tucked him into bed. She left him in his clothes as not to wake him, but she removed his jacket and shoes. She pressed a soft kiss to his blonde curls and walked out. He’d most likely be up around 4, so she had some time to kill.

Trying to be useful, she set up the washing machine to do some laundry. She went with the light-colored clothes, blushing when she noticed a pair of Peeta’s white boxer briefs. She totally didn’t imagine them snug tight around his muscular thighs and crotch –nope, not at all.

While the machine got the job done, she swept and moped around the house and dusted off some shelves. She picked some of Rye’s toys that were scattered around and tidied up the living room. The house was mainly clean, though, so she didn’t have much more to do. She even had time to try and be not such a shitty friend and texted her friends in Panem, asking them how everything was going. Their answers were pretty much the same; they were fine albeit a little mad at her for becoming too French and not having time for her old buddies. She knew they were mostly teasing, but she could also detect a real hurt behind the words.

I know I’ve been shitty, she texted back on the group chat. I promise to not disappear on you guys as often.

She even had a text from Madge from earlier.

Madge: sure, no problem. I just wasn’t sure, considering what arose between you two yesterday 2: 31 pm

Katniss: everything was my fault. We texted and I apologized, but he wants to meet later to ‘talk things out face to face’. He was surprisingly nice after the whole thing 3:46 pm

She really wasn’t sure why she was telling Madge about Cato. They weren’t besties or anything, but she supposed it was because Madge had been the one to encourage her in the first place to go out with him, and girl-friends shared that kind of stuff: the following day after hanging out with a guy. Even if she had left the club with a different guy than the one she’d gone in with.

She was surprised when the phone beeped back quickly.

Madge: oh well that’s cool I guess. I told you he’s a nice guy. He probably isn’t too mad if he wants to see you 3:48 pm

Katniss: it’s either that or he wants to kick me in the face 3:49 pm

Madge: lol I don’t think so. Don’t fret, I’m sure he’ll understand. Hope everything works out darling! 3:51 pm

She quickly texted back thanks and turned away from her phone. She decided she deserved some bad TV. She flipped through the channels until she got to Disney and noticed Hercules was just beginning; it was one of her favorites, so she couldn’t really complain.

Hercules had just given up his powers to Hades in order to save Meg, only to realize she’d been working for the god all along, when soft feet paddled down the stairs and a small body sat next to her on her lap. Rye had dragged his Toy Story blanket down and had it over his head like a hood. She smiled. They sat quietly until the movie ended.

When the credits rolled, Rye looked up at her. “Can we get ice cream at McDonalds?” she wondered how he could possibly want ice cream when the temperatures outside dropped lower with every passing day, but who was she to judge.

“Sure,” she shrugged. “You can go look for you shoes…” Rye ran off before she could finish. “…if you want.”

It was already a quarter to 5 when they left the house. The McDonalds where she had agreed to meet Cato was only a 10-minute walk, so she and Rye decided to go by foot. Even if the cold was troublesome, the walk was quick and the scenery was worth it.

The establishment was fairly empty; not many parents brought their kids to McDonalds on a Monday afternoon.

She noticed a single guy hunched over a table, sticking out like a sore thumb. Cato. He glanced up as if sensing her presence and gave her a small smile. She pulled Rye forward and Cato stood up.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” she said back.

“Hello,” Rye said in between. Cato looked down and smiled.

“Hey there, I’m Cato. What’s your name?” Rye suddenly shied away behind her legs.

“It’s alright,” she encouraged. “you can tell him your name.”

“I’m Rye” he mumbled. Cato held out his hand and they shook.

“Nice to meet you little guy. Katniss mentioned you like superheroes. I must say The Hulk is my personal favorite. He’s the coolest,” his eyes shone.

Rye’s eyes widened. “No way! Batman’s cooler!” they could have gotten into a dispute right there, but Katniss inched Rye forward.

“Why don’t you go play for a while? I’ll call you later when I get your ice cream,” Rye looked unsure, protective. He held her hand tighter, as if he wasn’t sure Cato was safe enough to leave his babysitter alone with him. “It’s fine, Rye. I promise,” she kissed his nose and he skipped away, still a little unsure. They sat on a table that had full display of the playground.

“So, I uh, don’t know where to begin.” She said awkwardly.

“I think you can start by getting me a sundae.” Cato started off, not unkindly. “I think I deserve it. And then we can talk about what the heck happened last night,”

She nodded and stood up.

Peeta was itching to get home.

It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling for him; he always wanted to go back to his son as soon as he could. And since Katniss started working with them, even more so.

Today he just wanted to go and cook dinner with them and lay and watch a movie. He’d even settle for watching The Incredibles (1 and 2) for the hundredth time. Even more so, he wanted to go and wrap Katniss in a blanket and keep her away from the world; or, more specifically, from the guy she was meeting with.

Peeta didn’t want to ask, but he assumed she was meeting with the same guy she was dancing with at the club the night before when he’d gotten there, her friend from French class. Considering on how she didn’t elaborate, he presumed he was right about her meeting companion. He might had been a little jealous. Just a bit.

Before he met her, Annie had mentioned Katniss being cute, and she sure looked so during the couple Skype sessions they had had before getting to France, but he wasn’t prepared for the raven-haired beauty that they picked up from the airport. His heart went into overdrive from day one.

He was convinced love at first sight was a real thing the day he met his son. Those thoughts were reinforced as soon as he met Katniss. He was about ready to crawl to his knees and declare his undying love. He thought that might freak her out slightly, so he refrained.

If anything, he’d noticed how quickly his feelings towards Katniss intensified with the passing of every day. Just watching her smile and be with Rye was enough for his heart to burst. And now he knew she wanted him.

He understood her hesitation, and he cursed himself for perhaps not giving much thought to the matter as she did. But the truth was he did think it through, many times. Read and reread her contract on several occasions, imagined every possible scenario. Things could blow under their noses if it didn’t work out; and, usually, you shouldn’t start off a new relationship by thinking how it might fail.

He figured it was worth a try. He’d never felt this way about anyone, not even his ex-wife, which was understandable considering their marriage had been a shotgun wedding. But now that he knew Katniss was also interested in him, even more so he wanted to give it a shot. But he truly meant what he’d said earlier; all he wanted was to make her happy. Even if that included him in a romantic aspect of her life or not.

“We should get going, son,” his father appeared and Peeta raised his head from the dough he was kneading. “Thresh will close.”

He threw a glance at the clock hanging from the wall. It read 5:21 pm, which meant that Katniss and Rye would have only just gotten to their destination less than half hour ago. He didn’t feel like going to an empty house, so he figured he’ll work at least another half hour. He told his father so and the man nodded knowingly while also throwing him a warning glance.

“Don’t stay here for too long,” his Dad ordered softly in French. “remember what you have waiting for you at home,”

Peeta nodded, although he knew perfectly what he had waiting for him. “I know, dad. Don’t worry. Half hour and I’m gone, promise.”

“So, ah, I’ve been meaning to tell you, it’s been a long time since you and Rye have visited your mom and I at the house. She’s missing the boy. She suggested that you three join us for dinner on Sunday,” Dad said and Peeta balked. The three of them?

His father read his expression. “I know, but she asked for Katniss to be included. It’s been over two months and your mother still hasn’t met the girl.”

Peeta wanted to argue, asking whose fault that was, but he didn’t want to take it out on his Dad. The poor man was just the messenger. “I, uh, I don’t know if Katniss has any plans on her own or with Rye. I’ll have to ask her and I’ll let you know.”

Dad raised an eyebrow. “Sure thing, son. See you tomorrow,” He patted Peeta’s back and walked out. Peeta held back a sigh. If his mother wanted to meet Katniss, that couldn’t be good. She’d only been with them for two months. He didn’t want his mother to scare her away. Especially not when things between them were going… good? He wasn’t exactly sure how to call it. But now he knew that she wanted him as much as he wanted her, so he figured that was progress. They were heading somewhere.

He worked in silence for another 20 minutes or so, putting away the remaining loaves of bread and cleaning the kitchen and ovens, until he figured he’d probably had enough. He gathered his stuff and waved goodbye to Thresh, who was on closing duty, on his way out.

The drive home was quick; he was anxious to get to Rye and Katniss. Supposing they were already home…

He was disappointed, albeit not surprised, when he noticed Katniss’s car wasn’t in the garage. They weren’t back from McDonalds yet. He was already home, so he figured he might as well get started on making the dough for some homemade pizza while Katniss and Rye arrived.

The house was cold. The chimney wasn’t on so he went and got a fire going to warm up. He put an apron over his work clothes and started gathering the ingredients for the dough. Making pizza was one of Rye’s favorite things to bake, so he knew the recipe by heart. He was sad he couldn’t remember the last time he had made homemade pizza with his son. But he was determined that he’d change that.

Around a quarter past 7 he just had put the dough to chill when he heard a car entering the garage; it took no time at all until Katniss and Rye were walking through the front door, shedding their coats and boots. Rye came running through the kitchen door and threw himself at him. Peeta’s heart swelled.

“Dad! You’re home,” he pressed a kiss to his head and hugged him tighter. Katniss watched fondly from the doorway; she didn’t want to interrupt the moment.

“Well I did say I’d come back early so we can make dinner together. I was thinking homemade pizza,” he barely got the words out before Rye started cheering.

The boy turned towards Katniss, “You have to try our pizza. It’s the best!” she smiled.

“I don’t doubt it,” she ruffled his hair.

Rye was a little disappointed when he learned that Peeta had already done the dough on his own, but he lit up when he told him he could smear the sauce and cheese and put whatever toppings he wanted on his pizza.

“Why don’t you go change so you don’t get your clothes dirty?” Katniss suggested. “Go on up and I’ll get you something out,” he sprang up the stairs like a banshee. Peeta laughed.

He looked after his son and didn’t look at Katniss until she said, “Hi.” Her cheeks were rosy from the cold. She was adorable. Gorgeous.

“Hi,” since he left for work that morning he’d been debating what gesture would be appropriate to use with her. He was still wondering whether a kiss was too much or not when she made the decision herself and strutted towards him. Her mittens-covered hands went to his cheeks and her lips covered his in a soft kiss that caught his breath.

She seemed to tense a little when he was just standing there like an idiot instead of reciprocating, so he quickly caressed her cheek with one hand while the other went to her back, lips moving against hers gently. He had to remember his son was upstairs to stop himself from exploring her mouth with his tongue.

Their kiss was gentle, paused, as if they had all the time in the world, which they clearly didn’t because small feet would be coming down the stairs in no time.

Katniss pulled away first and looked at him shyly though her lashes, unsure. He smiled to reassure her and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. The few times they’d kissed before, she always tasted differently; at the bar she had tasted like beer and a touch of tequila and lime, during breakfast it’d been mushrooms. Now, she tasted like strawberry syrup and peanuts. No matter her flavor, she always tasted delicious.

He had the dirtiest thought; he was sure her other lips would taste just as delicious, and with the twitch his cock gave he snapped himself out of those distracting thoughts. Although that didn’t make him wish any less that he’d get to taste Katniss. Soon, if it was possible. He was trying so badly to be good and respect her wishes, but he was just a man.

She gave him a bashful look. “I gotta go tend Rye,” he nodded and up the stairs she went. He heard Katniss and Rye laughing and giggling all the way from his room. He didn’t mind one bit that they were ganging up on him or that they had their own inside jokes. He loved the relationship they had; he was thrilled they got along so well. He truly couldn’t ask for more.

They came together down the stairs with Rye leading the way. While waiting for the dough to rise, the three of them prepped the area with the toppings they wanted and the pizza sauce (from a can, because really, who had enough time to make it from scratch?) and heard Rye go on about spending the night before at Finnick and Annie’s, who had, apparently, indulged him in watching Ratatouille while eating chocolate ice cream with lots of whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles. He wanted to go back already… to which Peeta wasn’t exactly opposed to if that meant one evening alone with Katniss.

When the dough finally rose, he kneaded it with Rye and later got the boy to help him punch it some more for extra softness. Katniss preferred to watch from the sidelines.

They made two big pizzas, and it got them a little longer to finish because Katniss kept eating the mozzarella cheese behind whenever Peeta’s back was turned, which made Rye erupt into giggles every time. They added olives, pepperoni, sausage, corn and mushrooms on one, and for the other Peeta wanted to do an extra cheesy with pineapples, but Rye wouldn’t let him.

“Daddy, pineapples don’t mix with pizza!” he argued.

“They do! Otherwise why is there a type of pizza called Hawaiian? It specifically has pineapple on it. Katniss, back me up on this one.”

She shook her head. “Sorry, no can do. I’m with my buddy on this one: pizza and pineapple just don’t go together.” She and Rye high-fived. They were totally ganging up against him. And he didn’t care one bit.

“Two against one. That means no pineapple pizza!” Peeta sighed deeply, not at all annoyed. Instead they settled for a vegetarian, which he knew Katniss liked just as much as mushroom and sausage pizza.

When they were finally in the oven, Rye insisted on camping next to the oven with the inside light on. He loved watching the cheese melt, something Peeta hadn’t been able to take away from him, even if it did panic him that he was staying so close to the heat. He always made him promise just looking, no touching, a rule Rye dutifully agreed to.

Katniss went to change out of her street clothes and he waited by Rye. He was itching to know how her meeting with the blond man she was with yesterday had gone, but he didn’t want to seem overly pushy. He figured she’d tell him when she deemed it appropriate.

A few minutes later, when the cheese on both pizzas had finally melted and Rye had gotten bored, they went to the living room to play with his action figures. Peeta always got to be Captain America, because Rye said he looked just like him, while Rye was Iron Man. When Peeta had asked his son why he wasn’t Cap, insisting that he looked like him too, Rye had just said that Iron Man was cooler cause he had a nearly indestructible suit.

And he’s super rich too, he’d said.

Who could argue with that logic?

When Katniss walked out of her room comfortably dressed in some pants, a camisole and a sweater with a face freshly washed, he could feel his heart doing somersaults. He was deep in for her. It worried him a bit, but it excited him even more.

Rye paid no attention to Katniss when she sat on the couch above them from where they sat on the floor; he was still shooting imaginary lasers at Thanos or whoever villain it was they were fighting this time. Katniss’s stare met Peeta’s and she threw him a longing glance and a soft smile. He grinned in response and she went back to scrolling through her phone, but Peeta could see her biting her lip just a bit. He willed the oven to cook faster so they could eat and Rye could go to bed soon.

Thankfully, his prayers were answered because the oven beeped not too long after. Rye sprang from the floor and Peeta had to run behind him to stop him from getting close to the oven. Katniss followed with a laugh.

When he got the pizza out Rye and Katniss were already sitting on the table, which had been already set up when he was waiting for the dough to rise. Katniss first served Rye his slice and cut it up for him to prevent any burns from grabbing the hot slice, then she served Peeta a slice and one for herself from the vegetarian pizza. He had to admit the pizzas turned out pretty good. Katniss seemed to think so too, considering how she moaned around her slice, and he squirmed inconspicuously on his chair.

She really had to stop moaning around him when there were other people around, because she didn’t know just how badly that affected him and his lower zone. He felt like a stupid teenager around her, always getting aroused. He was afraid when (if) they did have sex he’d last four seconds after he was inside her.

He hadn’t had sex since that one time after Thresh’s birthday party four months ago. It was completely unexpected, and he was relieved he always kept extra condoms in his wallet, just in case. The sex had been good, they had even done twice and probably would have done it more times if he had had more than two condoms on him, but even kissing Katniss felt more explosive than having sex with the redhead he’d been with. Even with his own ex-wife.

Before Thresh’s birthday it’d been over a year. He felt like a virgin again.

By the time neither of them could eat another slice, they still had the half of the vegetarian pizza left. Katniss wrapped it up in some foil paper and put it away in the fridge while Peeta did the dishes. By the time they were done tidying up the kitchen it was over 10 pm, which meant it was past Rye’s bedtime. Peeta told him so and the boy frowned and pouted.

“I’m not even tired!” he complained and stifled a yawn. Peeta tried not to snort. “and we didn’t even get to see Santa today because we were at McDonalds.” Peeta tensed.

“Katniss, you told me we’d go see Santa.”

“I did say that, didn’t I? Sorry we couldn’t go today, but I’ll take you tomorrow. Promise,” she held out her pinky and Rye looked at it suspiciously before linking it with his own. Katniss smiled and Peeta melted. “but, you have to go to sleep. Otherwise tomorrow won’t come,”

He pursed his lips and climbed up the stairs, yelling goodnight behind him. Peeta started to climb behind him so he could tuck him in. He looked behind him at Katniss, who waited at the foot of the staircase.

“Don’t go to sleep yet?” he pleaded. “I am, uh, going to say goodnight and then I’ll come down again.”

She nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ll wait,”

He threw her a smile and quickly went up the stairs into Rye’s room. He was already under the covers with only his nocturnal light on.

“Good night little guy,” Peeta sat on the edge of the bed. “Sorry I haven’t been able to do this so much lately. I promise I’ll try to tuck you in more often.”

“It’s fine Daddy. I know it’s cause you’re working a lot so you can buy me many action figures.”

Peeta laughed. “Yeah, that’s only one of the reasons. I’d love nothing more than to be all day every day with you, you know that, but as you said, I have to work so we can buy stuff, but I’ll try to take some time off. Just for you and I,”

“And Katniss?”

“Sure, Katniss too.” Peeta coughed. How was it possible his 5 year old could read him so well? Was Peeta really that see-through? “As long as you’re okay with that.”

“I’m more than okay!”

Peeta smiled. “Good. Bonne nuit, fils. Je t’aime,” He kissed his son’s forehead and closed the door behind him, only leaving it slightly ajar.

Katniss wasn’t in the kitchen when he went downstairs. He worried for a second that she’d gone to bed, but his fears eased once he saw her sitting in front of the fire. Pillows were thrown together for her comfort and she had two beers in hand. She’d recreated the scene from a few nights before.

She looked behind her just as he approached and motioned for him to sit next to her. He did, and she handed him a Corona. He took a swig.

“We never did finish the other pack the last time,” Katniss explained and her eyes shone with what he could have sworn was mischief.

“No, no we didn’t.” he laughed.

“So, um, not that I’m complaining or anything but… why did you come home so early today? I thought we had agreed you’d come in after 8,”

“Well, I, uh… I’m trying to cut back some hours. I realized I’ve been missing on many things, you know, working so hard. I want to be here for Rye,” he shrugged. “Plus, I’ve been designating more tasks on Thresh and Delly. Things I usually handed on my own, but I think it’s been long enough. I should give them a confidence vote. They deserve it,”

Katniss nodded. “Yeah, I totally get it. And things will only get more hectic once you inaugurate your new stores-”

“Yeah, I’m no longer doing that.”

“What?” her eyes widened. “Why not?”

“Same reason why I’m cutting hours: I want more time with Rye.” He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a swig. “I don’t even know why I thought about opening two more stores when I can barely handle one. I don’t want my bakery to become a chain.

“I guess it was just another of my stupid plans to try to please my mother,” he scoffed. “plans that usually never work, anyway. That woman can’t be proud of me no matter what I do.”

“Peeta! I’m sure that’s not true,”

“She invited the three of us for dinner on Sunday. Come and see for yourself,”

Katniss gulped. “Really?” what little Annie had mentioned about Peeta’s mother to Katniss wasn’t exactly too nice. To say she was worried would be an understatement. Although, it wasn’t as if she was going to be introduced to the woman as Peeta’s girlfriend; so far she was only Rye’s nanny. She wasn’t sure if that gave Mrs. Mellark more ammunition or not.

Peeta nodded and took another swig of the beer. He noticed Katniss had barely touched hers so he slowed down a little on his.

“Well, that’s fine. We’ll go.” Peeta raised an eyebrow. “But forget about your mother. I thought you wanted to expand the boulangerie?”

“I don’t know. Not really, I guess. I think I liked the idea of making my business grow, but I hadn’t realized just how much that would take and what I would be giving up. Truth be told, not even one thousand new businesses and a lot of cash would make up for spending less time with Rye.

“Besides, I’m not exactly sure that I wanted to build an empire, like that Cake Boss guy, you know. This isn’t America. For now, I’m happy with my boulangerie. Maybe down the road, once Rye’s older and he doesn’t need me as much, I’ll go for something bigger, who knows,”

“What about what you had already invested?”

“Already sold it and got the money back and paid the debt I had, that’s another reason why I had been so worked up lately. See? I’m no longer concerned about that, Katniss. Don’t try to change my mind. God knows Finnick has already been doing enough of that on his own,” at her puzzled look he explained, “Finnick was sort of like my business partner for one of the new boulangeries. He lent me the money I needed for the other store. He says I shouldn’t abandon my dream,”

“Oh.” Katniss briefly recalled the many calls Peeta and Finnick did to each other and why more recently Peeta got often annoyed at him. Even that same morning after their water war when they had been talking in hushed tones in the foyer.

“Well, if you’re pleased with what you’re doing, I’ll support you.”

“You will?”

“Absolutely. I totally get what you mean about spending more time with Rye, and I think you’re right.” She bit her lip and he twitched involuntarily. “To be honest, I always imagined the boulangerie would remain something small, you know? Just family and a few employees that are practically family. Keep the tradition and all that. Creating an empire as you said… it’s not quite Peeta. Just my opinion,”

Peeta smiled. He hoped his eyes displayed the gratefulness he felt for her right in that moment. “Thank you. You don’t know how much that means to me,” he took her hand in his and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. The ambiance shifted and another kind of tension simmered between them.

“You know,” Peeta whispered as they moved closer together, like magnets pulling on metal. “I cut hours not only because I wanted more time with Rye. I mean, that’s true, of course. But it’s not the only reason,”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I want more time with you too,” his confession hung in the air between them until Katniss freed him from his suffering.

“Well, I’m right here. Let’s not waste time,” her arms went around his neck and his breath hitched.

“Katniss… once we start this, I-I’m not sure if I’ll be able to stop,”

“Good, cause I won’t stop you.” Their lips met in a frenzy compulsion. It was as if they couldn’t stand another moment without their lips being joined.

Katniss’s tongue licked his mouth and lips, and his own tongue didn’t fall behind. He couldn’t get enough of her. He wanted to inhale her completely. He was a man dying of thirst, and she was the most delicious glass of water he’d ever tasted. His appetite for her grew agonizingly, and he wanted to devour her right there. He wanted to make her his, to satisfy her, to relish on the feel of her bare skin against his. In that moment right there he knew he would never get tired of that sensation; he would never get enough of her.

Peeta was insatiable, a man possessed. The more he kissed her, the more he wanted her. He never wanted to stop kissing her. Never wanted to remember how it felt not kissing her. Every fiber of his body ached for her while her nimble fingers on one hand clawed at the back of his neck and others on her other hand tugged on his curls vigorously. Her lithe body pressed against his, hips rocking softly together in an ardent need.

She moaned as he pushed her down against the floor, his lips still attached to her juicy flesh as one of his hands kneaded her breast, and the other kept their hips flushed together. His fly strained uncomfortably against his painful erection, and Katniss whined when he started thrusting lightly against her heat. It was stupid, really, how he coaxed out of her the most sensuous feelings Katniss had ever experienced.

Somewhere behind them she heard a bottle toppling over and hitting the floor with a clink. Its contents were probably glugging and spreading through the carpet, but neither of them seemed to pay any attention to it at the moment.

“Peeta, upstairs. Now,” she urged and Peeta wasted no time in picking her up. She tangled her legs around his hips while her lips and tongue started an aggressive attack on Peeta’s neck and jaw, everywhere they could reach.

She’d never been territorial, not one bit, but for some reason she wanted to mark him, to leave her kisses on his neck and her nail marks on his back. His breathing was labored, and she knew that wasn’t thanks to the exertion of carrying her up the stairs.

When they passed Rye’s door they quietened, being careful not to wake the boy.

Once they got to Peeta’s room, however, and the lock had been turned, their moaning took place once again. Peeta set her on the bed and sat back on his heels to take his shirt off. Katniss helped him undoing his belt. Her hands purposely touched the bulge against the zipper and Peeta hissed.

When their jeans were fully discarded, she happily massaged him through the thin fabric of his briefs. She pushed him down on the bed and sat on her haunches. She motioned for him to lift his hips so she could take off his boxers. He understood quickly and she rid him of the piece of clothing, throwing it somewhere behind her. He was fully naked in front of her, and very erect. His tip shone with precome, and her mouth watered.

She went to take her sweater off but he held her hands away, looking up at her with flushed cheeks and pinkish, swollen lips.

“Let me, please,” she nodded lightly and smiled. His hands wasted no time in going to the hem of the fabric, and in one swift motion he threw her sweater and camisole away once he got them off. His dick twitched once he noticed she didn’t have a bra on. Her breasts were perky and her nipples erect, either from the cold or excitement. He hoped it was the latter.

His thumbs rubbed her nipples and she arched her back, biting her lip so she wouldn’t wake up Rye. Her breathing got heavier.

“You don’t have to be quiet,” Peeta whispered. His thumbs were still working wonders on her nipples, but his eyes were directly on hers. “The walls are thick. I don’t want you to be quiet.” She leaned down and gave him a fervent kiss that took both their breaths away.

Getting back from him and up from the bed, she took off the rest of her pants while he watched with a burning gaze that sent shivers through her whole body. Peeta licked his lips, and he got even harder. She moved to the bed and put her hands on his chest to push him back against the pillows.

She started kissing his lips. Sensuous and slow kisses that built the anticipation, and went down to his neck, chest, stomach, until she got to his crotch. She pressed a kiss to his tip and Peeta threw his head back in a moan. She had already seen him fully naked before, but she couldn’t refrain herself from admiring his girth once again. He was thick and long and so hard, and she wanted him inside of her more than she’d ever wanted anything else. She took him fully in her hand and pumped him to get him even harder.

“Shit,” he whispered.

“I thought you said we didn’t have to be quiet,” and she engulfed him in her mouth. Since he was so big, she could only go for his tip while she used her hand to pump the rest of his length. She heard him cussing above her, his hand hovering her hair.

“Katniss, you don’t have to- Fuck! You don’t need to do that if you don’t want- ohh,” he managed.

She admired his chivalry and self-determination. She had half of his dick in her mouth and he still made sure to tell her it wasn’t necessary. “I want to, Peeta.” She licked him up and down and he groaned.

“Some girls don’t like it. Shit,”

“Some girls are stupid,” she answered and put him back inside her mouth. Peeta seemed to be enjoying it too much to say anything else, based on how his hand gripped her hair. If he only knew how much giving him head turned her on as well.

She continued giving him head, changing between sucking on his tip and licking him completely. She thrilled on the sounds that erupted from his mouth. After several minutes he squirmed and his breaths were harsh.

“Fuck! Katniss you need to stop. Please,” she ignored him and only deepthroated him, as much as her gag reflex would allow, and even then she couldn’t wrap her mouth around him completely.

“Shit, no. I’m gonna come.” He tried to push her away from his dick, although in vain, because she only sucked him faster and more furiously until she felt the first spurts of semen hit the back of her throat. It was salty and creamy and certainly arousing.

She didn’t stop sucking him until she’d milked him completely and Peeta’s breathing had slowed down. She sat on his stomach, her own arousal coating his midsection. His hands covered his face while his heartbeats returned to normal, and his skin was flushed an angry red all the way down to his stomach. She gently took his hands away from his face and pressed soft kisses to his palms. She tried not to look too smug.

“Shit. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come so fast. I wanted to last for when we… you know,” he whispered, and she hated to detect a tone of embarrassment in his voice.

She pressed his hands against her breasts and he kneaded them again. She sighed. “I meant you to come,” she said pompously, being unable to hold back her grin. “The night’s just getting started, Peeta.”  

“In that case…” he quickly maneuvered them around and pushed her underneath him so her back rested against the mattress. Her hips cradled his legs, welcoming him. “It’s my turn. We didn’t get to eat dessert after dinner, so I’m gonna eat mine now,” he mumbled as he nibbled on her ear.

“Shit,” pretty much like she’d done with him, he started pressing kisses on his path down to her center, everywhere his lips could reach. He paid special attention to her breasts and nipples. While he suckled on one nipple, he tweaked the other gently with his thumb and forefinger.

“You are exquisite,” she was sure he had seen better, but in that moment he was looking at her like she was the most precious gem in the world. His tongue dipped in her bellybutton and she keened. He continued his sensual assault until he got to where she wanted him the most. He pressed kisses to her pubic bone and then her thighs, making sure to torture her. The bastard laughed against her skin when she whined impatiently. “We have all night, love,” she didn’t have time to dwell on the petname because he was suddenly there, and her whole world fell to nothing.

“Holy fuck!”

His tongue lapped at her, drinking her and later sucking on her clit like a man possessed, like it was his job, and oh, he did it very good.

“You are the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.” He alternated between lapping at her juices and sucking her clit. “You taste even better than I imagined,” and boy, just how much had he imagined it.

Her breathing accelerated, and when he added a finger she was done for. Everything shattered around her and she uttered out several curses.

After her orgasm passed, Peeta’s face was still buried between her thighs, no doubt trying to coax a second orgasm out of her already-weak body, and she could give him another one very easily, but she wanted to come with him inside of her. She tugged on his hair gently to guide his eyes to her. His hair was tousled (her doing, no doubt), his eyes were glowing, and his mouth and chin were covered in her juices. She doubted she’d ever seen such an arousing sight. She was sure he was at full mast by now.

“I need you inside of me. Right now,” she pulled him up and joined their lips. It was a little odd tasting herself on his tongue, but she didn’t mind.

Peeta pulled away to reach for a condom on the nightstand, and suddenly she remembered about the missing condoms. She bit her lip. She wouldn’t let something so stupid ruin her night with Peeta. It didn’t matter who he used the past few condoms with; all it mattered was that now he’d be using them with her. And more than one condom, she hoped.

He ripped the package with his teeth and rolled the prophylactic down his shaft. Once he was covered, her legs opened to welcome him in graciously. She was aching for him, and by the way Peeta was looking at her through his long lashes, she wasn’t the only one.

Considering their ardent oral sex, she imagined that once they were joined it would be fast and rough, but Peeta took his time entering her, enjoying every inch that he was inside of her. He was buried to the hilt, and she had to take a breath and relax. It’d been a while for her, and he was big. She was so full. The most delicious feeling overwhelmed her.

“Merde,” Peeta cursed, and she agreed. “You are so tight, so perfect. You’re incredible,” his lips rested against her neck, and she turned her head to catch his lips.

“Kiss me,” he did so, and once she nodded against his lips, he started moving slowly and tenderly. His left hand kept himself up so he didn’t crush her, while his right hand held hers above her head. “oh shit. I’m so full,”

Once he got a rhythm going, his thrusts accelerated, and his movements were firmer. Katniss’s hips moved forward to meet Peeta’s, and her mouth uttered the most amazing sounds he had ever heard. He thrust harder, and he felt Katniss’s nails claw his shoulders and move down to his waist. He wanted her to leave her mark on him. She could scratch him all she wanted, he was totally fine with that.

He ripped his lips from hers so he could pant against her neck, “Fuck, Katniss,”

“Oh God, yes. Fuck me,” he groaned and thrust even harder. Her nails marked his back once again, and that only spurred him on. Her walls squeezed him. He knew she was close, and he nearly saw stars when she screamed his name.

“God! Peeta!” his movements slowed up to the point he nearly stilled his hips so she could recover from her orgasm. Her walls fluttered around him, and he moaned. Only then Katniss seemed to come down fully from her high. “You’re still hard,” she pushed him away from her to lay on his back, and he obeyed. She wasted no time in settling on his lap and guiding him inside of her. She was so wet he barely had any resistance at all.

“Foutre,” Peeta moaned and she nodded breathlessly. He would never get tired of being inside of her, he was sure. At that angle he hit a deeper spot inside of her. By the sounds of her moans it seemed she enjoyed it as well.

She alternated between bouncing up and down his shaft and bracing her hands on his chest so she could rock her hips against his. Back arched, mouth spread open in a moan, chest glistening with sweat and nails running through his chest made an image that would remain plastered in his mind forever. One of the most erotic things he had ever seen in his life.

She gasped when he hit a particular spot inside of her and her teeth bit deeply her lower lip. With his thumb he rubbed her lip free of her teeth and sat forward to bring their lips together, his hands placed on her back. The new angle proved to be even more satisfactory. Katniss keened and her walls tightened around him with an impending orgasm.

“I’m gonna come.”

He nodded. “Good. Fuck, me too,” her eyes shut and her moan resonated through the bedroom.

“Oh, Peeta! Yes!”

That’s all it took for him to come undone. The coil on his belly loosened and he filled the condom, hips bucking wildly against Katniss’s. She was still coming when he finished, walls fluttering wildly. He pressed kisses all over her face and she sighed, slumping tiredly against him.

He lay back against the mattress, taking her with him with her head resting on his chest. She could probably hear his erratic heartbeat. With the movement he slipped out and he felt Katniss shudder. He pressed a tender kiss to her temple and fingers played with her dark tresses. Her nails scraped his chest lightly and he shivered. Their skin was covered in sweat, but the house was cold thanks to the freezing December wind.

With Katniss by his side, he could fully appreciate the intimacy of the moment. As much as the sex had been earthshattering, he rejoiced in just having her lying next to him, her breaths mingling with his. It felt just as good. She burrowed deeper into him and he swore he felt his heart grow at least two sizes.

Her breaths were slowly slowing down, so he pressed a kiss to her temple and stood up to go to the bathroom. He could feel Katniss’s stare burning his back.

After he had cleaned himself, he took a damp cloth for Katniss.

She was still on the bed, eyes barely open. When she felt the warm fabric wiping between her legs, she opened them wider and Peeta held back a sigh and willed his dick to control itself. He already wanted to go back to being inside of her.

Since they were no longer exerting themselves with their sensuous activities, the temperature in the room dropped even lower. Katniss sniffed, and he got clothes from his closet for the both of them. He didn’t bother with underwear, considering clothes might be removed later once again. Katniss looked unsure when he handed her his clothes and he tried not to feel disappointed.

“Um, do you think it’s a good idea that I sleep here? I mean, what if Rye wakes up?” she said, but started dressing with the clothes Peeta had given her. Her skin was up in goosebumps and she was shivering.

“Well I, uh, clearly want you to sleep in here. I don’t think Rye will wake up but if he does we can figure something out later,” Peeta said bashfully. “As long as you want to stay here, of course,”

Katniss thought it through. As an answer, she lifted the duvet and burrowed beneath the covers, making some room for Peeta. He gave a quiet sigh of relief and slid into bed next to her. She took her place with her head on his chest and his arms around her, and Peeta wondered when it’d been the last time he had felt such peace.

“Katniss?”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry, I have to ask. Any regrets?”

She bit her lip. Her mind was still at war, debating whether sleeping with her boss had been a good idea, screaming how this could blow up in their faces if things didn’t work out, something Katniss hadn’t cared about when she had his mouth around him, and later his mouth between her thighs, and then his manhood inside of her. Now, nestled in his arms, she wasn’t sure if she still cared.

“No.” He would have to ask her again in the morning though…

“Good.”

Not too long after, she was asleep.

“Fuck! Harder,” she moaned just a couple of hours later.

“You’re so sexy. So tight. So perfect,” Peeta moaned from behind her.

She wasn’t entirely sure about being perfect, but she certainly did feel sexy with how Peeta’s tongue was ravaging her neck and shoulders and how the pounded in and out of her from behind. She felt sexy and powerful. Like she could take on the world.

She had woken up startled when she felt lapping between her legs with Peeta’s pants by her knees. Peeta was eating her out and she was on the brink of an orgasm. Not that she was complaining. If there existed any good way to wake up, it was that one. His wolfish stare nailed her to the bed.

He had made her come twice with his mouth on her clit, and before he could let her return the favor, he was already shedding his clothes at lightning speed and fumbling around for a condom and penetrating her, her legs up and over his shoulders while she threw her own shirt somewhere behind his head. He fucked her until she screamed his name so much her throat went raw.

She really did hope the walls were as thick as Peeta said.

Once she was boneless and sated, they switched positions, with her on top of him, her back to him as she rode him. He loved watching her ride him, his dick slipping in and out of her while she bounced up and down.

He needed to have his lips somewhere on her, so he sat forward and wrapped one arm around her chest so he could rub her breasts and the other rubbed her clit, his lips pressing ardent kisses on her skin. Katniss rocked back and forth and threw her head back in a long moan. Peeta turned her head to the side so he could capture her lips with his and Katniss moaned against his skin.

“You’re so big. You fuck me so good,” he would be lying if he hadn’t said his ego didn’t swell bigger. He kissed and thrust harder into her. He wanted to make her come so many times; fuck her until she could no longer remember how it felt not having him inside of her.

“I want to fuck you until you can’t walk straight,” he panted against her skin and she moaned again. “I want to fuck you every day. I want to make love to you. I want everything you’re able to give me,”

She tensed against him. His thrusts slowed down, “Sorry, I, fuck. I don’t want to pressure you. I don’t even know why I said that. Forget it, please. Let’s just-” his hips continued his sensual assault, pounding harder and Katniss whimpered. “Go back to what’s important.”

“Peeta-”

“I know.” He moaned through his thrusts.

Katniss gave a laugh, which soon turned into a groan. “No, I mean, oh God, I just don’t know.”

“Maybe we could continue this conversation another time. When you’re ready and when my brain hasn’t turned to mush from being inside of you,” his head slumped forward against her shoulder.

“Please.” His fingers rubbed her clit, and the combination of his thrusts, his hot breath on her neck and his fingers on her clit were her undoing. “Too much. Peeta!”

“Come for me. Merde, I’m gonna come,”

She exploded, and Peeta wasn’t too far behind. He lost the rhythm and his thrusts became more erratic, reckless. She squeezed him purposely so he would come with her, and he followed obediently. His hands squeezed her hips tightly, almost painfully and her breath caught. She slumped back against him and he lay them back against the sheets.

“Holy fuck,”

“That was…”

“I know.” She looked at him and they both giggled. Shiny eyes, sweaty skin, bedhead hair, and thoroughly satisfied. “Sorry I woke you up. I couldn’t help myself,”

“I don’t mind. Not one bit,” A breeze flew in and she curled into herself. It was winter in France the freaking window was open. And they were naked.

At her incredulous look, Peeta explained sheepishly, “Sorry. I can’t sleep with the windows closed. I just cracked it open a bit,”

“It’s fine,” even if her teeth were shattering and her feet were as cold as ice. She hid under the covers with Peeta and rubbed her feet up and down his calves to warm them up. Peeta nearly didn’t jump right off the bed and she laughed loudly.

“Well, you wanted the windows open. Deal with the consequences,”

“Ha, ha.” But he pulled her closer and she hid her face in his neck. Peeta’s face turned to reach for something in his nightstand. She hoped it wasn’t another condom; she wasn’t sure she could take another round so soon.

A phone screen lit up, “Shit. I have to be up in an hour,”

Katniss groaned. She detested baker hours and she wasn’t even the baker!

“Let’s make most of the hour then.” And her eyes closed. Within minutes she was asleep.

Even if she was naked, she felt oddly warm and satisfied. The sheets were up to her neck, but it was Peeta’s body heat that kept her warm, and his arms gave her a pleasant night of sleep.

At least until his demonic alarm made a shrill sound what felt like minutes later. She had the sudden need to smash the thing with a hammer.

She groaned and closed her eyes tighter. Peeta only sighed beside her, shut off the alarm and pressed a kiss to her forehead before getting up from the bed, and taking with him his body heat and her own. She shivered.

She contemplated getting up and closing the window and getting dressed. It was either that or dying of hypothermia.

With the sheets wrapped around her like a second skin, she shut the window and breathed a sigh of relief. The room was still cold, but it was more bearable now that the portal to the North Pole had been shut. She was reaching for her clothes when the shower started running. Biting her lip, she didn’t have to think it much before she left the sheets behind and walked in the bathroom.

“Katniss?”

The glass door and the mirror were fogged with the steam coming from the shower, so she was out of sight for Peeta. She ran inside the shower and shut the door behind her, only to crash against a sturdy chest.

“Hi,”

“Hello, mademoiselle,” he said from under the stream. “Nice of you to drop by,”

She studied his body up and down and bit her lip, completely satisfied. Johanna would be proud.

“See something you like?”

She shrugged, trying not to smile, and moved under the stream next to him so the hot water heated her cold skin. She sighed in contentment. From the corner of her eye, she saw Peeta doing some studying of his own.

She reached his bottle of shampoo and collected some gel in her hand.

“Come here,” Peeta obeyed and she rubbed the shampoo in his hair until she created suds. She massaged his scalp thoroughly with her fingertips and nails and Peeta shuddered and sighed. His hands rested on her hips and pulled her closer, until their bare chests were pressed together. Her nipples hardened against his chest and she could feel him slowly hardening. It was a moment oddly erotic. It wasn’t sex, but it was just as personal and intimate.

She tilted his head back and let the water rinse out the shampoo from his hair. She helped until all the bubbles had disappeared.

“My turn,” Peeta washed her hair with his shampoo. He tried not to feel like such a caveman for thinking how much he loved the smell of his shampoo on her. That way everyone who smelled her would know she belonged to someone.

Did she, though? Belong to someone? Not really, he answered himself.

That was a talk Katniss was not ready for, and he didn’t want to pressure her. Even if he did love smelling himself on her.

Next, he soaped her skin. Her arms, breast, stomach. When he got to her pubic bone her breath hitched, but he only cleaned her, no more. He kneeled in front of her and did her legs and feet, and she took the soap from him and covered his own body in bubbles. He was hardening even more with every soft pass of her hands over his skin.

He pushed her under the stream once she was done lathering him in soap, and his hands helped the water rinse the bubbles. Once he got to her navel, his hand lowered even more until he reached her lips. His fingers teased her entrance, and Katniss gasped, digging her nails into his biceps.

His thumb rubbed teasingly her clit. Katniss groaned, “Stop teasing,”

He laughed. When she was not only wet from the shower but with her own juices, he inserted a finger and then another one inside of her and she sighed. Her head slumped back against the bathroom tiles, which gave his lips free access to her neck. He wasted no time in reaching for the skin on her neck while his middle finger and thumb continued their assault on Katniss’s pussy.

He fucked her with his fingers, and her nails created yet another masterpiece on his shoulders until she came around his fingers. “God, Peeta!” he removed his fingers and licked her juices off. She tasted incredibly.

Katniss took no time in recovering, and it took him by surprise when she pushed him against the opposite wall and sunk to her knees, eye-level with his rock-hard dick. She started pressing kisses to his skin and his hands tightened around her hair. She took him in her hot mouth, and his world slowed down. Her tongue worked wonders over his skin, while she pumped what her mouth could not reach. He nearly fainted when she pulled away… only to suck his balls and sac into her mouth.

He had been with several girls before who only gave him head as a courtesy for him going down on them, so they weren’t exactly keen on the job. Katniss, on the other hand, blew him like she loved doing it, not because she felt the need to. He was the luckiest bastard in the world, no questions asked.

She went back to sucking and licking his dick, and he tried really hard to keep his thrusts small and gentle, until the exquisite feeling became too much and he felt like he was going to explode. He tried to push her away, but she only held him tighter by the hips, inciting him to come inside her mouth. He couldn’t hold off any longer and blew his load; Katniss swallowed every drop of come and licked her lips after. She gave him a salacious grin and he pulled her up for a kiss.

“Something for you to remember me by while you’re working all day,”

He groaned. “Trust me; last night and this morning’s events will be on my mind all day. I’m not sure if I should handle the ovens at all today unless I want to burn the whole place down,”

Katniss laughed. “Then do stay away from the ovens please.”

He shut the shower. Fortunately, the room was steamy enough so that the cold didn’t stab them right away. He only had one towel, so he wrapped it around Katniss and rubbed her arms up and down to warm her up.

Once she looked drier, he moved his naked ass from outside the shower and took another towel from the cupboard and wrapped himself up in it. He was certainly starting to feel a lot colder now.

They went to his bedroom and Katniss started putting on her (his) pajama again. Considering it was before 5 am she’d for sure go back to sleep.

“Too bad you have you have to go to work,” Katniss said from the edge of his bed while he put his work uniform on. He saw the mischief in her eyes and tried to keep the dirty thoughts away from his head.

“Tell me about it. I’ll be back by 5 though, promise.”

“What are your plans for the day?” he asked Katniss while they made his bed together. He insisted she could stay sleeping in his room even if he wasn’t there, but Katniss said Rye shouldn’t find her in his Dad’s bedroom in the morning. He guessed she was right.

At least not yet, he added in his mind.

“I’m thinking of taking Rye to the mall. If I don’t take him to see Santa today he’ll kill me,”

Peeta snorted. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Try to find out what he wants for Christmas, would you?”

“Sure,”

They finished making the bed in a comfy silence and when it was time to go Katniss walked him to his car. He tried not to hesitate too much before wrapping his arms around her, satisfied when her hands rested on his chest.

“will I be seeing you two at lunch today?”

“Um, I don’t know. Do you want us there?”

“I always want you near me,”

Katniss bit her lip to hold her smile. “Fine, then. I’ll take you lunch. Any preferences?”

“Well, I’d love just to eat you.”

“Peeta!” she laughed and he captured her lips with his. She sighed into his mouth and returned the kiss eagerly.

He was considering calling in sick and staying in bed with Katniss when she pulled away, but her forehead rested against his. “okay, time to go back to the real world.”

He sighed. “Last night meant the world to me. I just hope you know that… and I really hope you don’t regret it because I don’t know what I’d do if you do.”

“I don’t regret it.” She said decidedly and pressed another kiss to his lips. Albeit short, it warmed him from his head down to his toes.

“I’ll see you at noon,” he said and pulled away.

“I’ll see you at noon.”

If they only knew they wouldn’t be seeing each other at noon…

…lol I’m just kidding! No such drama for this story. Btw did you catch the explanation for the missing condoms? It’s subtle and it’s up there.

I hope this was good enough and that you guys like it. I wanted to keep writing something else, but I figured +20k words was more than enough to bore you.

Let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to see. I’m thinking we’ll have one more chapter (for real this time) and an epilogue.

Kisses and hugs to all of you!