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everlarkbirthdaygifts · 3 years

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Happy Birthday, socmono!

Happy belated Birthday, @socmono! We hope you had a wonderful day back on the 14th, and that you got exactly the presents you were hoping for! To bring the birthday feels back around, the lovely @endlessnightlock has written a story just for you!

I’m sorry this is so late! This story spiraled out of control inside my head, resulting in a “drabble” that is almost 7000 words long (eep)- I also have plans to add a little more on the end before I post it on Ao3, so keep your eyes peeled for that.

My inspiration for this story came from one of my favorite oldies- the 1968 Dusty Springfield song Son Of A Preacher Man. If you haven’t heard that one, I suggest giving it a listen before reading this.

This story isn’t religious, but it does have some mild religious themes (including religious guilt) because it features Peeta as a preacher’s son in the late 1960s. Also I have mentioned two separate church denominations simply because, to my knowledge, neither condone alcohol use. There is no other reason for the mentions :).

This story is also rated E for underage sexual contact.

(Have I covered everything? I think so.)

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Katniss picked at the loose thread that’d made its way out of the darts in her dress. Frowning in concentration, she valiantly tried to work the string free since it insisted on mocking her the way it was. She knew she wouldn’t be able to get away with messing with it for long, not with Momma next to her on the sofa.

Momma always had something to say about Katniss’s fidgeting- said a seventeen-year-old girl had no need for such restless energy; that was why she was so unladylike. No one complained about her vigor much when she was getting up before the crack of dawn to go out to the woods and track down meat for their dinner, and that was the truth.

“Katniss!”

At the sound of her harshly whispered name, Katniss caught her mother’s eye and let her hand drop back to her side with a barely-concealed huff. For her own good, she bit back a scowl. In no way was she in the mood for another lecture from Momma about giving herself early frown lines.

It was a hardship being a wild girl tethered to a parent who forever wanted to make you like them.

From the other side of the room, Katniss caught a muffled laugh from Peeta, and it took everything in her power not to glare at him- he knew better than to laugh at her, especially over her frustration with this stupid dress. It was a ridiculous thing, anyway. It certainly hadn’t been Katniss’s choice to wear it in the first place; it was so outdated with its knee-length skirt and tailored top lined with pearl-glazed buttons that were a bit tight across her bust since she’d had a bit of a growth spurt figure-wise this summer.

Even the dress’s color was out of style: a soft, faded blue that wasn’t like anything currently being worn, although Katniss didn’t mind that part of it so much. She didn’t go for the garish yellows, reds, and browns presently in fashion- not that it mattered; her papa wouldn’t dream of letting her go anywhere in the type of miniskirts her friend Madge wore, anyway.

“Katniss,” Papa said softly, setting his coffee cup on the table next to his chair, his kind grey eyes focusing on her, sensing her discomfort.

At the sound of her father's voice, she let out the breath she'd been holding. He was her saving grace- Papa understood her better than Momma ever would.

“Why don’t you take Peeta and go for a walk or something? It’s too nice of a day for a couple of young folks to be stuck indoors while their folks talk politics.”

“Or religion,” Reverend Mellark, Peeta’s father, added, smiling in that slightly blank way he had that made Katniss wonder if the man had ever had an earth-bound thought cross his mind. Of course, with Peeta’s mother, she couldn’t say she blamed him for preferring to immerse himself in his theology books.

Katniss nodded, setting her iced-tea glass on the end table willing herself to act naturally. She stood, glancing briefly at Peeta before looking away again. The glee in his light blue eyes prevented her from paying him any mind in front of the adults. They might catch on to something. “Well, come on then,” she said, her voice low.

“Don’t go too far, Katniss. I’m going to need your help getting supper around when the Reverend leaves,” Momma reminded her as she stood to leave the room so the men could talk alone, which is what they’d planned on doing all along.

“Yes, Momma.”

xoxoxo

“You don’t seem all that happy to see me today,” Peeta told her as they stepped out the kitchen, the screen door slamming shut behind them. Katniss grimaced at the brilliant afternoon sunshine meeting them. It was hot and muggy- the kind of July day that wasn’t good for much other than swimming in the creek or lying in the shade with a book.

“That’s not it,” she told him, catching his eye and shrugging. “Come on, let’s go out a little further.”

Peeta grinned at her, shoving his hands in the pockets of his khaki’s as they walked. They headed in the direction of the back end of the Everdeen's expansive property. Chickens scattered around their feet as they made their way down the packed-earth drive; the birds ran towards the garden to look for bugs to eat.

“I get tired of these dang birds,” Katniss admitted to him, frowning as she stepped over a pile of droppings. No one wanted chicken shit on their church shoes. “You’re lucky you don’t have to keep livestock in town. Watch your step- right there,” she admonished Peeta- he’d come dangerously close to stepping in a pile of excrement. Being a town boy, he wasn't as adept at looking out for himself here.

“They ain’t so bad,” he said, stepping around the mess, “at least you don’t get stuck making house calls to Ms. Trinkett’s with my father every Monday night,” he nudged her lightly with his elbow. “I’d take regular chickens over those ladies any day.”

Katniss glanced over her shoulder quickly, hoping Momma hadn’t seen them from her vantage spot at the kitchen window. Momma and Papa insisted she wasn't old enough to have a boyfriend yet, even if it was the preacher's son. Despite her concern at getting caught being so familiar with him, Katniss snorted, picturing Ms. Effie and her sister.

The Trinket sisters, one long-widowed and one a lifetime spinster, were a bit over the top for a rural community like Panem. ”I can’t disagree, ” she told him, ”Momma says they're something else.”

She and Peeta were nearly at the back of the lean-to then, just out of sight of the house, so Katniss grabbed his arm, tugging him behind the building with her where no one could see. Once there, she threw her arms around his neck. “I am happy to see you,” Katniss said, smiling coyly.

He grinned at her forwardness. In a move that was quick enough to leave her laughing in surprise, Peeta spun the pair of them around until her back was the one against the outbuilding. He caged her in with his body there, letting his hands come to rest on either side of her shoulders as she giggled. “Well, that makes two of us,” Peeta told her. He ran the tip of his nose across her cheek, nuzzling against her before his lips met hers. He kissed her gently at first and then deeper, with ease they’d perfected over the last month of these “walks.”

Katniss still wasn’t sure what their fathers found so interesting to discuss that it brought the Mellarks out with such frequency.

There was a question for Peeta laying heavy on her mind, though, nagging at her. Katniss wasn’t sure if she’d like the answer, but she had to know before things went any further between them, so she just said it.

“You’re not kissing girls at every house you visit with your papa, are you Peeta?”

He frowned, studying her face, before giving her a small, unreadable smile. In a flash, he’d tilted his head and begun trailing his lips down the side of her neck in a way that made her pulse flutter like a bird’s wings while bathing in a puddle.

“Peeta-“ she warned, but he just chuckled.

“I might’ve kissed a few girls before, but you’re the only one I’m kissing now,” he reassured her softly, words vibrating against her skin. ”Are you puckering up to any other fellas? For instance, what about that friend of yours- the one who helps your father at harvest?”

“Do you mean Gale?”

“Yeah, I mean Gale,” he admitted, his voice tight.

Was he jealous? The thought kind of thrilled her. Katniss chewed on her lip before exhaling against his shoulder because he still wasn’t looking at her. “He, ah, he did kiss me once,” she admitted, thinking it was better to be honest since it was just him and her right now. “Might have done a little more than kissing-”

Peeta tensed against her.

“But that was last summer,” Katniss told him.

There wasn’t much to tell- Gale had tried putting his tongue in her mouth, and he’d touched her breasts over her shirt a little. It wasn’t like there was much of anything there for him to grab at the time. Either way, she hadn’t liked it, so she asked him to stop pretty quickly. Katniss hadn’t given what happened with Gale much thought before now- she’d just assumed she didn’t like making out like other girls did. She felt different about it with Peeta, though.

“Well, I haven’t done much more than kissing myself,” he admitted.

Katniss was sort of relieved. She hadn’t thought Peeta was a fast boy- not that it would’ve changed her opinion of him if he had been. If he’d gotten around a little more than her, then he just had. Either way, she still would’ve liked him the same; it only made her more comfortable knowing he didn’t have much experience either.

Frankly, the only girl Katniss wanted Peeta to be fast with was her.

What she wanted to do with him was probably considered a sin in the Lord’s eyes, but that wasn’t going to stop her a bit. All she knew for sure was that while she hadn’t been kissing Peeta Mellark for very long, he always made her want more. It was hard to be good all the time, no matter how hard she tried. Wrong or right, being with him made her feel like she was flying.

She sighed when his hand curled around her waist and pulled her closer. He still maintained a polite distance between their bodies, but she stepped closer to him, pressing her breasts against his chest for the first time. She had the strongest urge to feel his touch there- just that light press was overwhelming.

Peeta must’ve enjoyed that because he pulled her tighter, lining his hard chest against her softer curves. Breathless with anticipation, she was just about to take his hand and move it up to her breast when he dropped his hands away from her and stepped back.

“What’s wrong?” Katniss asked, studying him for signs that she’d done something wrong. Didn’t he like that?

His eyes looked kind of wild, she thought.

“Don’t you wanna-“

Peeta’s gaze raked over her face. “Can you sneak away tonight?” he asked, eagerly. “Would you meet me like we did last time?”

Just last week, Katniss snuck out and met up with him once her family had gone to bed. They’d sat by the creek, ditching their shoes and rolling up the cuffs of their pant legs to dip their toes in the water. There’d been some fooling around, but mostly, they’d just talked until she started having trouble keeping her eyes open.

She figured tonight, though, Peeta wanted to do more kissing than talking. That was alright with her.

Without considering it much, she bit her lip and nodded. “Yeah, I can.”

Momma and Papa went to bed as soon as the sun went down, so the house was always quiet by ten or so. She wasn’t sure how Peeta managed to get his father’s car to drive out and meet her, but then again, she’d never asked him about it.

“Great!” he said, his grin as wide as a Cheshire cat.

His enthusiastic reaction made her giggle, a sound she was pretty sure only Peeta had ever solicited from her. Katniss was disappointed when he stepped away from her, signaling an end to their impromptu makeout session, but he still kissed her gently, his lips melting her frown away before she had a chance to argue with him. That soothed her.

“Don’t scowl at me that way,” he said, “you know I wanna kiss you. I just don’t know if we ought to risk showing up again, looking like that’s what we’ve been doing. Your momma and papa will figure out what we’re up to; she looked funny enough at us last week.”

Katniss knew he was right, so with a resigned sigh, she stepped away from the side of the lean-to; they’d have to wait until tonight for more, she guessed. Pushing her disappointment aside, she grabbed his hand and tugged, indicating he should follow her. “You’re right, Peeta Mellark, just like always. Come on then- if you’re not going to hold me, then you can at least come and see the new litter of kittens in the barn.”

xoxoxoxoxoxo

That evening, when the frogs were singing in the trees, and the crickets were making a real ruckus from down in the grass, Katniss found Peeta sitting on a log by the creek behind her house, just like he said he’d be. It was way past sundown, but she could still see well enough, besides= she’d know the broadness of his shoulders and the tousled back of his head anywhere.

Her bare feet sunk in the damp, sandy soil lining the bank where she stood off to the side, studying Peeta’s profile- he was so handsome it made her chest hurt sometimes. He hadn’t heard her approach, though, so Katniss let him know she was there too after a moment. “Been waitin’ long?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“Hey,” Peeta greeted her, smiling warmly, catching her eye as he looked over his shoulder. As she approached, he scooted down the log, making room for her to sit next to him. “No, it hasn’t been long- ten minutes or so at the most.”

Katniss sat down next to him and pulled her hair over one shoulder, using it as a shade she could use to peer around at him. She’d worn it loose around her shoulders the way she knew he liked, and, thankfully, that dress from earlier was long gone, replaced by jeans and an old button-down shirt. She felt much more like herself this way.

“It’s a pretty night,” she said, feeling a little shy now that they were alone in the dark.

The remainder of the afternoon, once Peeta and his father left, she’d been distracted by thoughts of him and what they might get into tonight. The hours had dragged by until Momma and Papa were finally in bed, and she could sneak out to meet him.

”It is, ” Peeta agreed, “but not nearly as pretty as you.”

“Flatterer.”

He just grinned in answer.

The moon was full, reflecting off the shallow creek water. It was bright enough that she could make out the look on her face and the way he sat, totally focused on her. ”I’m glad you made it.” Katniss told him, her voice soft.

”I wouldn’t have missed the chance to see you.”

She scooted closer to him. “You know, Peeta; I gotta ask you something.”

“What is it?” he said the words as if he’d gladly tell her every thought that had ever entered his head. He took her hand in his.

Katniss curled her fingers through his and squeezed. It was wonderful to touch him again freely. “How is it that you manage to get the Reverend’s car out without anyone noticing?” she asked, her curiosity getting the best of her. “I know he’s got his head in the clouds all the time, but my momma would sure notice me starting up our car after everyone’s gone to bed for the night.” She laughed. “If I weren’t on foot coming to meet you, I’d be out of luck.”

“But I’d find a way to pick you up,” Peeta said, looking down at their hands. “I gotta see my girl.”

“Your girl?”

“Yeah. My girl- neither heaven nor hell would stop me.” He paused after his declaration and snorted. “My father probably wouldn’t approve of the sentiment behind those words; I don’t think.”

“I don’t know about heaven or hell getting in the way, but what about your momma- doesn’t she try stopping you?” Katniss prodded. He still hadn’t answered her question.

Peeta glanced away, scratching the back of his head with his free hand. She had the distinct impression there was something he wasn’t telling her. Things grew quiet, and the longer he was silent, and the longer she sat curling her toes in and out of the sand, the more sure she was that he was keeping something from her. Peeta took forever to answer; he seemed to be weighing what to say, frowning into the dark in concentration. It was painful to watch.

“What is it?” Katniss asked, breaking the silence. She wasn’t going to make him do something if he didn’t want to. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I don’t- ah, hell. Why not. The thing is, you can’t say anything to anyone.” Peeta finally said, glancing her way again. He looked nervous. “You gotta promise me that.”

Katniss nodded, scooting closer to him on the log. “Of course.” Even if Peeta hadn’t been her boyfriend, she still wasn’t one for running her mouth about everyone else’s business.

He sighed resignedly, looking pained. “So I don’t know if you know this, I think some people suspect and some know, but Momma likes to drink. Drinks quite a lot.”

Katniss’s eyebrows shot up. While their church wasn’t a bunch of complete teetotalers like the Baptists or the Apostolic church up the road were, their congregation certainly frowned upon overindulgence in alcohol. “Oh,” was all she could manage, her mind whirring with what he’d told her.

Peeta huffed. “Maybe “likes” isn’t the right word- I’d say she has to drink. She does it most all day- says it keeps her in her right mind. But then nighttime rolls around, and at that point, it’s a lot more. By the time she goes to bed, she isn’t in any state to wake up again. An elephant stomping through the kitchen wouldn’t rouse her once she’s passed out.”

“Peeta,” she said, hating that she’d made him feel bad to find out the truth.

He kept talking as if she hadn’t said anything. “That’s why me and the Reverend go visit the Trinkett ladies every week. Momma likes their home-brew the best. She’s real nasty if she doesn’t get it.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered- and she was. Her momma and pappa were over-protective and kept her under tight reign, but at least they paid attention to her. She never doubted they were thinking of what was best for her or her baby sister Prim. She couldn’t say that about Peeta’s theologian father, who liked to distract himself with his religious books, and certainly not about his over-indulging mother.

“I don’t like it- leaves the Reverend and me to play clean up after her all the time- have to tell folks she’s sick or has a headache when usually it’s just the drink.” Peeta finally looked at her, and this time he had a wistful smile on his face that didn’t quite make it to his eyes. “But then again, it ain’t all bad, having no one pay you no mind. It makes it a whole lot easier to sneak away and see your girl.”

“I wish we didn’t have to sneak off this way, though. Don’t you?” Katniss said abruptly.

There really ought to be some sort of happy medium between not being allowed to have a boyfriend like her momma and papa and Peeta’s folks who barely recognized his existence. She wanted to have a relationship in front of others; she wanted the whole world to know Peeta was her boyfriend. She was proud of him- he was a catch.

“We won’t always,” he insisted. “I swear- your momma will change her mind about you having a boyfriend eventually, and then we won’t have to do this anymore. And it’s not like you’re dating some hooligan-”

She laughed.

“How much more respectable can you get than the preacher’s son?”

“You aren’t that respectable, Peeta Mellark,” Katniss said, leaning into his shoulder with a sigh and letting her hip rest against his. They couldn’t be sitting much closer now if they tried, but she wanted to be close to him, to show him how much his trust in her meant. “No matter who your papa is.”

“Do you want me to be respectable all the time?” He asked, wrapping his free arm around her waist. His hand came to rest at her side, and he curled it against her, rubbing her hip. His fingers slipped just under the tails of her shirt, the calloused tips of his fingers brushing against her skin.

She shook her head. “Not really, no. You don’t kiss like a respectable boy.”

“I feel the least respectable of all when you’re sitting with me like this. The things I’m thinking about you are positively sinful,” Peeta admitted, quirking his lips in a funny little smile that was much more genuine than its predecessor.

“Me too,” Katniss said softly, her voice so low it must’ve been difficult to hear over the crickets chirping behind them or the gurgle of the creek.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, if it is a sin, then the Lord will just have to forgive me; I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t touch you more,” he admitted, startling her with his bluntness.

Katniss licked her lips, excited and nervous. “Go ahead then,” she told him boldly.

“Maybe I will,” Peeta said, his eyes lighting up.

“Well, maybe I want you to.”

“Really?”

Instead of answering, Katniss leaned into him. She let her free hand rest against the line of his jaw, and Peeta tilted his face into her touch and let his eyes droop closed. “I like you an awful lot- do you know that?” she said.

His eyes fluttered open again, and Katniss watched him turn his hand and kiss the palm of her hand; it was a sweet gesture, but one that made her heart race. His lips were like petals, and his breath was warm when it fluttered against her skin. “I do, but a fella doesn’t get tired of hearing it,” he told her softly.

Katniss laughed under her breath, relishing in the way Peeta always made her smile until her cheeks hurt. It was funny to be kissing him sometimes when he felt so much like a friend- she liked talking to him just as much as she liked kissing him.

“I was kind of hoping you were going to throw yourself at me again like you did earlier this afternoon,” he confessed.

“What are you going to do- just sit there while I ravish your body?”

“Maybe for a bit, but I kinda looked forward to doing some ravishing myself,” Peeta admitted.

Katniss snorted, but not for long because he moved into her, smiling against her lips before nudging them lightly with his own, playing with her, prodding at her mouth until she opened to him. Their teeth bumped from their open-mouth laughter; there was a little more hesitancy, but then he pulled her closer and sunk his hand in her hair, and she found herself lost in the taste and feel of him.

After kissing her until they were both breathless, Peeta pulled away. Tilting her head to the side, he trailed the tip of his tongue around the shell of her ear before sucking the lobe into his wet, warm mouth.

“Sweet lord-“ she whispered, shivering.

Peeta held her tight against his side, one arm around her waist while the other hand settled on her belly, just above the waistband of her jeans. His lips moved down her neck until he reached the bit of skin open to him at the top of her shirt.

Giving in to that same urge from earlier, brought on now by his closeness to such an intimate part of her body, Katniss took his hand, lifting it to the first button of her shirt.

Peeta stopped what he was doing, mouth freezing against her skin. He tensed with indecision, so she squeezed his hand in reassurance- Katniss wanted him to see her and touch her more than she’d wanted anything. Her nipples felt tight, her breasts aching for his hands. “Please,” she asked, curling his fingers into the shirt so there was no way he wouldn’t understand her meaning. “I want you to, so bad.”

Her words must’ve given him the confidence he needed because he sat up and kissed her passionately. His hand at the placket of her shirt was shaking under her hand, but when she let hers drop to her side, he began undoing the buttons regardless.

Katniss closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing as more and more of her skin was exposed to the night air. She hadn’t worn a brassiere out here to meet him, wanting one less barrier impeding them. That thought made her lick her lips, nervous to see what he would think of her and wondering when Peeta would notice.

“Oh, you’re not,” he faltered as he pushed her shirt open slightly. “You’re naked under here,” he said dumbly.

Katniss peeked her eyes open. Peeta’s focus was on the space between her breasts; just the inside curve was visible, the fabric caught on her nipples, keeping everything from being revealed to him just yet. He looked stunned- his eyes were wide, and even in the dark, she could see the color in his fair face was high. He backed away from her, and she couldn’t help notice the way his hands clenched and unclenched in his lap.

“You can touch me,” she said breathlessly, encouraging him.

Peeta met her eyes, looking like a deer in the headlights, paralyzed with doubt. Katniss realized that for all his big talk about it being a sin not to touch her, he was still nervous, so she took his hand and slid it beneath her shirt, her eyes steady on his the whole time. The skin on his palm was soft, and his fingers were warm and slightly calloused against her sensitive skin as it curled around her. She gasped, leaning into his touch as he dragged his thumb across her nipple, triggering pleasant warmth that began at her breasts but spread down to her belly.

Peeta dropped down onto his knees in front of her, pushing the shirt off her shoulders. She shrugged the material the rest of the way off her body. Once it was gone, he gawked openly at her, his hands frozen at his sides again.

She kind of wished he would do something instead of just staring at her breasts- it was starting to make her second guess taking her shirt off. Maybe they weren’t ready for this yet. In a fit of sudden shyness, Katniss crossed her arms over her chest and covered herself. Her bravado was evaporating by the second.

The movement stirred him out of the daze he’d fallen into, and he looked up at her then. Being able to see his eyes again steadied her nerves a little.

“Do you want me to take off mine too?” he asked, reaching for the bottom of his shirt.

“Yeah, I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” she admitted, laughing a little. “You’re makin’ me nervous the way you’re staring, is all.”

Peeta let his head drop.“You’re just- you’re so beautiful, Katniss. I’ve never seen anything like you before.”

“You’ve never seen breasts?” she asked, frowning at him.

He looked up at her again and shrugged. “I’ve seen some in magazines, but I’ve never had a girl show me hers before.”

And then Peeta tugged his t-shirt up and over his head, tossing it down beside them.

She couldn’t think of anything smart to reply- it was her turn to gape at him. She’d seen shirtless boys before, but not one of them had looked so beautiful as Peeta did, kneeling in front of her the way he was. He was slim in the waist but broad through the shoulders and chest. He had muscular arms, and in the moonlight, his skin seemed to glow.

Katniss bit her lip. Did he feel the same way looking at her that she did him?

Peeta moved in closer to her, dislodged the piece of flesh from beneath her teeth with his thumb. Then, with his hand still at the corner of her mouth, he kissed her open-mouthed, with more passion than she’d ever felt from him. As his tongue brushed hers, he slid his arms around her waist. Katniss spread her knees apart, wanting him closer. Peeta moved between them and pulled her flush, pressing their bare chests together.

The feel of being skin-to-skin with him was overwhelming. There were so many places Katniss wanted to touch him, so her hands began to roam: his hair, his back, his arms- she found that when she drug her fingers down his sides, he squirmed a little. He must be ticklish there.

And all the while, while they kissed and touched each other, feeling wild and free and alive, her body became something she’d never been so aware of until that moment. Katniss snaked her legs around Peeta’s hips and tugged him forward until she had his hardness lined up to her center. “You feel-,” he groaned in her ear, thrusting against her. With the first movement, she went from feeling warm and tingly to downright aching.

If he was still talking, he must be doing better than she was- Katniss knew she couldn’t form words if her life depended on it. All she wanted was to feel more of him and more of what they were doing to each other.

Katniss dropped her hand down between their bodies, taken by an urge to touch what she was feeling- she cupped his erection over his pants, and he thrust into her grip.

When she looked at Peeta’s face, she was stunned by his glassy-eyed, slack-jawed expression. It startled her a little, so she took her hand away, ashamed of herself for doing something so daring without asking him first, but he grabbed her wrist, lightning-fast.

“Don’t stop, please,” he begged. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“You liked that?” Katniss asked, leaning her forehead against his neck. With all the feelings running wild through her, she couldn’t look him in the eye.

Peeta took her hand, placing it over his hardness again. He curled her fingers around him so that she was gripping him.

When she rubbed him through the thick material of his jeans, kissing his neck and collarbone because she couldn’t look him in the eye, it seemed like he stopped breathing. Katniss touched him that way but eventually grew frustrated with the way his jeans left so much to the imagination, plus it felt a little awkward. “Can I-” she trailed off, running her fingertip up his zipper.

Peeta’s hand curled around her waist, turning his head to speak in her ear. “You can do anything you want.” His voice was breathless, his chest heaving against hers like he’d run a mile.

She moved her hand up to the button on his pants, and when her fingers brushed against his taut skin above the waistline, he sucked in a breath. “Are you sure?” Katniss asked one last time, her fingers curling inside the waist of his jeans.

Peeta dropped his lips to hers, kissing her fervently. She guessed that was her answer. Katniss moved to the button of his pants and undid it before carefully pulling down his zipper in almost painfully heavy silence. When his fly was open, she only hesitated for a moment before slipping her hand in his underwear and wrapping it around him.

“Oh god, oh god, oh my god,” Peeta muttered against her mouth, lips slack.

He didn’t seem capable of kissing her as she touched him; that was alright- she wanted to be uninhibited in her exploration of his body. His dick was larger than she thought it would be, and his skin was petal-soft but rigid beneath the surface, and he seemed to be growing stiffer as she rubbed her hand up and down the length of him. It seemed strange, but she could feel his pulse in her hand. When she made her way to the top, Katniss moved her thumb across the head, rubbing the small amount of dampness into him on instinct.

“Fuck,” Peeta gasped, gripping her forearm.

“You’ve got a dirty mouth,” Katniss told him breathlessly, never hearing him swear before. This night was full of surprises and what she was doing to him excited her more by the minute.

When Peeta let go of her arm and moved his hand to the inside of her upper thigh, she forgot how to breathe herself. “Can I, too?” He managed, trailing his fingers up the inseam of her pants.

“Yeah,” she choked out, stilling her hand on him. Her pulse thumped like mad as he reached for her, unbuttoning her pants. Katniss might not have planned for all of this to happen tonight, but she didn’t want to stop, either.

She leaned towards Peeta as his hand slid inside her underwear. Knowing she was ridiculously wet, she hoped he wouldn’t think it was weird; the idea made her pretty nervous. Katniss knew it was natural to get that way when aroused. The times she’d touched herself, despite knowing it was probably a sin, had taught her that.

But sliding her hand inside her underwear and exploring herself had mostly been out of curiosity.

With Peeta, it was an entirely different thing- a hot, burning need that grew in intensity the further they went.

His fingers brushed against the short curls between her thighs, and when he moved further down, dipping just inside her wet lips and dragging them forward, Katniss’s hips jerked against his hand. His touch was unbelievable, much better than any time she’d done this herself. He hadn’t found the spot yet that make her sing, but it still felt amazing.

“You like this,” Peeta whispered disbelievingly, “Katniss, you’re so-”

“Yes,” Katniss gasped as his fingers rubbed against the top of her, “it feels so good.” She wanted him to delve deeper and touch that place that always felt so good when she did it herself. Their position with her on the log and him kneeling in front of her was awkward.

And then, realizing she’d stopped moving her hand over him, Katniss tightened her grip on Peeta’s dick again. He might not be able to reach her very well this way, but she could still touch him. They’d gone this far, and now she wanted to see what happened next.

“Unf,” Peeta grunted, his hand going still inside her underwear, his body slumping forward.

Katniss watched his expression as she touched him. Peeta seemed lost entirely to what she was doing, his breathing becoming shallower, fighting to keep his eyes open. Was that because he didn’t want to look away from her?

“I’m- oh,” Peeta wrapped his free hand around the back of her head, jerking her against his chest as his length started throbbing in her hand. The faster she moved her hand, the louder he became, until his whole body stiffened up and his dick pulsed harder as hot, white liquid spurted from him, splashing against her bare arm and chest, bathing her hand in it as she continued pumping her fist up and down him. “Holy hell, goddammit,” he gasped.

Katniss turned her head, grinning against his shoulder when he seemed done after she’d taken her hand off of him. She felt suddenly shy, despite Peeta’s slack hand still lodged down the front of her underwear and his ejaculate all over her.

“I’d better,” Peeta began, pausing to kiss her firmly before as he took his hand out of her underwear and reached to the side to grab his discarded t-shirt, “take care of this. Sorry about the mess,” he added, using the material to wipe her hands and chest clean. He lingered at her breasts, rubbing the shirt across them long after she’d been wiped clean.

Katniss laughed deliriously, still a little in shock over what had just happened. She swatted his hand away, teasingly. “That’s okay- it was fun. I liked it,” She admitted.

“It was certainly fun for me. Probably could’ve lasted a little longer,” Peeta said a little sheepishly. Even if he was embarrassed, he couldn’t keep the happy smile off his face.

Katniss didn’t think he had anything to be embarrassed about- from what she’d heard about boys, what he’d done was typical for the first time someone touched him. She figured touching each other was like anything else; there had to be a pretty big learning curve. A bigger part of her liked that she’d gotten him that worked up.

Peeta leaned forward and kissed her insistently until she was breathless, reminding her again how excited she was. “Now I wanna make you feel good too,” he said when she was half-crazy from his lips. “You might need to show me how.” He got up then, pulling his underwear back up to cover himself but leaving his pants unzipped.

When He offered Katniss his hand, she took it. “What are you taking me?” she asked.

“Nowhere. Just changing things around a bit,” Peeta answered, stepping behind her and sitting on the ground with his back resting against the log. He spread his legs apart and patted the space in front of him. “I thought it might be easier this way, especially if you want to take your pants off.”

Katniss didn’t overthink pushing her jeans over her hips and down her legs at that point. After all, she was already shirtless in front of him, and for some reason letting Peeta see her breasts left her feeling more exposed than anything. She knew he wouldn’t try to take things any further than she wanted to

She lowered herself to the ground, kneeling in front of him, but Peeta, with a quick kiss, told her to turn around. Katniss did, settling upright against his chest. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said as she shifted against him. He wasted no time mouthing against the back of her neck while his hands settled at her waist.

“You haven’t seen much then,” Katniss whispered with what was supposed to be humor but came out sounding breathy instead. Her body tingled in the night air, the slight breeze across her nipples causing her breasts to ache even more.

Like he was reading her mind, Peeta’s warm hands moved up from her waist and cupped her breasts. “I think I’ve seen all I need to see.”

“They’re just,” she bit her lip to keep from moaning too loud as he played with her, his thumbs rubbing and pinching her nipples, sending sparks between her thighs, “breasts. Half the world’s population has got them.”

“But I just want to see yours,” Peeta said, gently squeezing her with his warm hands. The pressure made her squirm, and she rubbed her thighs together. “How does it feel when I do this?”

“Good,” Katniss whispered, arching into his hands. He groaned under his breath. She could tell his dick was getting hard again, pressing against her backside, and that surprised her- she always thought boys were a one and out deal.

Not Peeta, apparently.

“How about this?” he asked while one hand glided down her stomach. His fingers were at the waistband of her underwear, edging beneath the elastic.

“Yes,” she said. The sensation was different than before. Peeta wasn’t restricted by her stiff pants this time or the awkward position she’d sat in when he’d touched her earlier.

“Help me?” he asked.

Katniss covered her hand with his and pushed them down together, leading him to the place. “Rub me there,” she said, spreading her legs wide to make it easier to get to the nerve bundle. She gripped his fingers, demonstrating what she meant. Katniss rubbed their fingers over her together in slow circles- not too soft or too rigid. Their hands together in her intimate places felt wickedly good.

“I think I’ve got it now,” Peeta whispered in her ear. His breathing was noticeably heavier, their noises mingling together in the night air, the sounds of the creek, and the insects in the woods background noise to their pants and moans.

Katniss dropped her hand away and closed her eyes. The pleasure was coiling, burning low in her stomach. Her feet scrabbled against the sandy creekside, looking for something to hold onto; when Peeta realized what she was doing, he wrapped his free arm around her waist, holding her tight against his body as she tensed all over.

“You’re so beautiful, so perfect, so everything,” Peeta murmured in her ear. “I love seeing you this way; I love doing this to you.”

His words and his fingers rubbing her perfectly now between her thighs, the feel of his hand pressing into her waist, his mouth sucking on the side of her neck, and his dick pressing firmly against her backside all converged as one to overwhelm her. The deep, tight pressure broke, and pleasure flooded her body. The feeling was much more intense than anything she’d ever experienced on her own.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #fan fic #by endlessnightlock

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everlarkbirthdaygifts · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday, jbsaucy!

Happy belated Birthday, @jbsaucy! We hope you had a wonderful day back on the 16th, and that you celebrated in style! To bring your party back around, the lovely @mega-aulover has written a story just for you!

For this year, I am recently divorced and trying to get the nerve up to get out there. So I would like to request a 30/40s Everlark, post divorced meeting

Jbsaucy

Dear Jbsaucy I hope you had a wonderful birthday. I apologize for the lateness, and I hope you had a wonderful day. This prompt BTW was amazing and I had a great time writing it. It was a blast. Thank you to Norbertsmom for Betaing

Rated T

Title: OFF THE MARKET

-kpkpkpkp-

Divorce sucks. SUCKS.

Getting divorced sucks, being divorced sucked.

But nothing, not the tedious nature of dividing unwanted movies, the fear of root canals, or getting a speeding ticket, compared to dating. Dating, ladies and gentlemen, after being married for ten years sucked royally.

ROYALLY!

After my divorce, my attorney suggested I get a hobby or join a club. I really wasn’t a social person. Not much of a talker, and avoided any and all spotlights. It was this fear of the spotlight that originally brought me in contact to my now ex-husband, Darius.

My best friend Gale pushed me to do one of those karaoke nights. I panicked and ran straight into Darius. He thought I was cute, and I was grateful he went up with me to the karaoke microphone. He sang and I laughed. The rest is history; the marriage only lasted ten years. But I knew we weren’t right for one another, partially because Darius was a very sexual person, for me sex wasn’t important. I got more enjoyment out of getting my teeth cleaned. He found someone who revved his engine and I got the fica and dates.

Yup Dates.

How did that happen you ask?

Well, I’ll tell you I followed my divorce attorney’s suggestion. Preface-OUTSIDE OF A COURTROOM NEVER EVER FOLLOW YOUR DIVORCE ATTORNEY’S ADVICE.

With that warning sign, I digress. Taking a deep breath, I pinch the bridge of my nose. Wait for it... I joined a book club.

It was the only natural course of action. After our divorce I got all of the books. You see one of the things Darius and I loved to do was go to bookstores. We’d buy all of these books with the intention of reading them, and we never did. We had bookshelves filled with books from the 100 Must-Read Classic Books by Penguin. So after my divorce, I sat in my newly minted apartment with a box of wine and all of these books.

I was looking at the boxes, my divorce papers jutting out. Amongst them there was a note - with the name of a book club, the real 451 book club, with an address. I called them the Squad 451 or the Squad. The women were a hodgepodge of personalities; the right blend of sweet and crazy. There is Mags, the motherly type. She has boatloads of grandchildren. Then there is her neighbor Greasy Sae who runs a diner in town. I used to go to her diner as a kid and consume her mystery meat soups. The older woman is bawdy and half of the things she says makes me blush redder than a red bean. Next is Annie, a shy, slightly mad girl who is a librarian. Delly has the personality of the southern bell who wears pink and believes in romance. I’ve known of Delly forever; she and I went to the same high school.

Foxface, has one of those names with multiple consonants and vowels but prefers to go by Foxy or Foxface. She is freakishly smart and sometimes, I think she has blackmarket dealings because she’s so secretive. Then there is Effie, the middle aged, tightly wound woman whose book choices are as repressed as she is, like Jane Eyre. And last, but not least, is my divorce lawyer, yes the very same one who suggested I get a hobby, Johanna Mason who is, well, a sex fiend.

I started meeting up with them, and six months after my divorce, that’s when the ladies conspired against me and set up my profile on one of those dating websites looking for men, for me. I had no idea, and on my birthday, they presented me with their “gift.”

It was the gift you didn’t want, like a pimple on your wedding day or the runs before an important interview, or bad breath before a first kiss.

Greasy said that if I didn’t use my, well, feminine - looks around - petals. That they’ll dry up and turn into ugly petunias. I announced sex wasn’t important, and even friged Effie said a lady needed to literally, figuratively, and metaphorically, occassionally let her hair down.

I said NO.

I demanded.

I scowled.

Nothing helped.

They created a profile based upon themselves, and yet through describing themselves they pegged me. I was nurturing. I had a sexy edge. I was introverted, and yet mysterious. I was smart, honest, loyal and a closet romantic. But if you tell anyone that, I’ll hunt you down, even after I’m dead.

They split me up like a kid of divorced parents being schlepped from one house to the other. They set themselves up in teams and each team got to pick my dates. And everytime we met for a book club meeting, I was to dutifully report on the date. Based upon their success, a second date would be permitted.

It was a simple proposition.

I was naive. A stupid idiot, or as Bugs Bunny say’s, a maroon.

Because I hadn’t really ever been out there.

To be honest, I met Darius right out of high school, at my first college party, and we were married - okay it wasn’t a big wedding. It really wasn’t a wedding at all. It was a spur of the moment, we got drunk and ended up at one of those Elvis chapel impersonators. Annnnd bada-bing.

I never really dated, so I agreed with the book club’s plan, because how hard could dating be?

And thus began my nightmare.

I must state, or emphatically note, not all of my “dates,” were catastrophically bad. To be fair, most of the time I wasn’t interested. Delly said I wasn’t romantically pulled. Johnna said my engine wasn’t revved up. Greasy said if the man didn’t make me want to orgasam with a look, then he wasn’t worth my time. I posed this question to the universe: How in blazing blue inferno does a man make a woman...well you know, with a look? Was that even possible?

A hazy yellow fuzz enters my head and my mind wanders. I conjure up blue eyes and translucent lashes that never tangle.

Sigh.

…. (my brain just short circuited at the thought of large hands)

Earth to Katniss.

Okay sorry, I spaced out for a little bit, and their words spurred me on to continue my journey. And one year after my divorcce I had stories, no I have battle scars. To prove my point, the following are my top three worst dates. In no particular order.

Date Disaster # 1 was with an artsy type at a chique Italian restaurant. He arrived late, and was drunk, high, or both. Then fell asleep on his plate of bolognese. Yup, in his plate of spaghetti and meat sauce. I paid for my half, tucked my tail between my legs and left.

Date Disaster #2 was with a small man with glasses and a massive intellect who didn’t stop talking about flamingos. FLAMING PINK FLAMINGOS. My brain shut down. I didn’t hear the music in the jazz themed restaurant. I didn’t even taste the heat in the gumbo. The only factoid I remembered when we said goodnight was that flamingos were gray when they were born. I couldn’t even tell you how they became pink. The man was the human form of anesthesia for my soul.

Date Disaster #3 was a nice man. We laughed. And everything was going well. We ordered drinks, a cranberry and soda for me, the bartender special for him while we waited for our table. Turns out he has a milk allergy and the bartender special had milk. When we sat down at the table and we were talking about our hobbies, his stomach began to grumble loudly. He became pasty and then as the waiter brought out our appetizers, he threw up all over the place. It was a good thing that throwing up didn't bother me, but it bothered our waiter who gagged. Needless to say, I burned the outfit I was wearing.

Those were the top three...but there were more, just simmering to become the top one. And for a time I thought I wasn’t made to date. But the ladies had faith and they were really trying to choose nice, interesting guys. However, nothing, nothing that I could ever imagine could top my latest date.

I’m rushing along the sidewalk. I don’t want to be late, but at the same time, I don’t want to tell them how much of a calamity my latest date was, but to be completely honest, I don’t want to miss it. Tonight is also the night the group meets at Mellark’s. The friendly cafe style bakery with its rich and yummy pastries, both savory and sweet. It is my favorite place to meet. Squad 451 meets twice a month in different locations, including one of the two meeting rooms in the library, one of the community rooms in the Justice Building, and on our birthdays, we meet in a restaurant, but the bakery on Main Street is our favorite location. The Mellarks owned several locations. The flagship store was always managed by one of the original family members.

If George Senior, or the middle son Ryan Mellark is at the helm of the bakery, they allow us to cavort in the shop until close. When his older brother George Junior or their Mother Muriel was in charge, we tended to be quiet, relegating our conversations to the books. When Peeta is in charge, there are free cheese buns and chaos.

Please, stomach gods, let Peeta be there. I skipped lunch today because I had a deadline. I also forgot my wallet at home. Thankfully, my license was at the bottom of my backpack. I need food before my stomach eats itself. I am starving when I walk into the bakery. When I see Peeta, I stop. His blue eyes meet mine and my stomach flip flops. He gives me a slow sweet smile, before his eyes slide back to the customer who is ordering.

“Katniss,” Delly squeaks, waving frantically.

Somehow, my feet carry me over to the table and there is a plate of cheese buns and I thank every celestial being in the universe. His buns are heavenly. Sitting down, I take a napkin and snatch one. My mouth waters and my lashes close as I bring the cheese bun to my mouth. The smell of melted cheese, fresh bread, and the hint of dill, assuage my nose, before I bite into one of Peeta’s coveted flaky concoctions. The combination of the oozing cheese, the herbs and the buttery bread elicit a moan from deep within my being. These freaking cheese buns will be the death of me.

“Wow.” Peeta’s voice causes my lashes to fly open.

Peeta is standing near me with a cup of tea; his face and neck splotchy and red.

My mouth is full of delicious food, but I forgot how to chew.

Delly is looking between us. Her pale blue eyes quizzical, like when she’s trying to understand a concept or theme in a book.

“Okay, bitches,” Johanna says, slamming her brief down. “Where’s the rest of the motley crew?”

“Mags and Greasy just arrived,” Delly answers absentmindedly.

“Hey, Peeta, I need a strong black coffee.”

“Sure,” Peeta says, all the while staring at me. I finally remember to chew. “Here Katniss, your tea.”

Taking the paper cup, I can’t help feeling bashful. “Thank you.”

“Peet,” the girl behind the counter calls.

Whenever Peeta is here, the business is brisk. He is charming. He was always charming, even back in high school he was the most popular guy, not only because of his looks, but because he was genuinely nice. I, like all of the other girls, had a mini crush on him.

Looking over his shoulder he says, “I’ll be right back with your coffee, Jo.”

Now Jo is looking between him and me, but hers is a wicked grin, like right before she nails a sleazebag who doesn’t want to pay for his children. I quirk an eyebrow, clueless as to what has Johanna showing off her predatory gleam.

“Oh, it’s chilly outside,” Mags says.

“It’s colder than Rudolph’s balls outside,” Greasy says, her gruff voice is booming. Several patrons look at her. Greasy does not care. She’s well past her sixties and it’s her motto that she should live each day as if it was her last.

In walks Effie, Annie, and Foxface, and they all say, “Hello,” in unison.

The book of the month is actually a YA fiction called, The Fault in Our Stars, about teens with a terminal illness. I cried when Gus...I tear up once more...at the memory. But I know we aren’t going to discuss Hazel’s predicament with her parents.

“So,” Delly says, bouncing in her chair.

I can’t help but grimace.

“How did it go?” Foxface says. She has an accent, but I can’t place it.

“He looked like he belonged on one of those erotic books Johanna loves to read,” Greasy says, grabbing a cheese bun.

She’s not wrong. Gloss was a blond adonis, with slate blue eyes. And abs that have a flipping twelve pack, I ought to know, I counted them. The words are out of my mouth before I am aware of what I am saying. “He really does with a twelve pack,” I say drinking my tea.

“Did you say twelve pack?” Johanna sat up.

My eyes widen.

“Wait, why are you blushing Katniss?” Foxface narrows her eyes.

“Did you and he…” Annie trails off. Her doe eyes are wide.

“Did you have your first sleepover?” Effie leaned in.

“Or did you dry hump him like a horny-toad dog?” Greasy’s voice bounces in the bakery.

Peeta’s pauses , wiping down the counter and looks directly at me.

“NO!” My voice sounds half strangled.

Jo and Delly exchange a look. “Peeta,” Delly calls him over.

Oh, no, no, no, I say to myself, eyeing how quickly I can get from the back corner to the exit. It is one thing to tell the squad, it is another to have Peeta know. I think I can sprint around the chairs and clear the table near the door like an olympic hurdle jumper.

Peet walks over. “Hey Dells, can I get you ladies anything?”

“Katniss was going to regale us with her latest date,” Delly says.

“She’s going to tell us how she knows her date has Thor’s body.”

“You’re dating?” Peeta asks, looking at me intently.

He doesn’t know I am dating or rather, being raked through hot coals.

“Oh,” Foxface chortles. “She’s dating.”

“Remember the guy who was texting with his mother during the entire date,” Effie said.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Mags saids grinning.

“Only the part when he had Katniss talk to her, and it turned out she was psychoanalyzing her to make sure she wasn’t an ax murderer,” Annie said laughing.

“Or what about the guy who kept on mentioning his ex and cried through the crème brûlée,” Greasy slaps her knee, laughing.

I can’t help but laugh.

“Man, those are pretty bad,” Peeta says.

I hold up my finger. “No, those are tame.”

“Tame?” His blue eyes are sparkling. “You mean there are worse dates?”

Delly snorts. “Oh there are worse. I am so glad I am out of the dating pool.”

“Yeah, Gale just loves you,” Annie sighs.

Delly and Gale met when I joined the book club. And while I floundered, they fell in love and now Delly was pregnant.

My eyes shift to Annie. “It’s so much easier when you fall in love.”

“Oh?” I say.

“I met someone,” Annie says softly. “He wants to meet all of us.”

I wonder what type of guy would date quiet, shy, introverted Annie who sometimes says things that remind me of that song from those Freddy movies from the 80’s. I shake my head. Then I narrow my eyes. “Bring him to the next session,” I hear myself say. I want to meet this man, and make sure he will take care of my friend.

“Really.” Annie clasps her hands.

I nod, but I notice Peeta is looking at me with this strange gleam in his eyes. “Ah...yeah.” My voice sounds breathy. I frown, wondering why the heck I sound like one of those girls. You know the ones that always appear in the music videos washing cars and dancing on super yachts. Darius was fascinated by those girls, heck, his new girlfriend looks like one of those girls.

The women are chatting with Annie about the new guy in her life.

“We'll discuss Annie’s beau later,” Mags holds her hand in the air. “I want to hear about Katniss’ date.” Her white hair spills over her shoulder as she fixes me with a look. “So tell us, how do you know Thor has a twelve pack?”

Somehow or another I knew the scrutiny on Annie would be short lived. My time to shine would come, but when I open my mouth to speak I can see a conspiratorial glance between Mags and Annie. And it hits me that they chose this man, because he looked like Thor. I scowl at the women who set me up on this one. Mags and Annie both have a pink tinge to their faces. I would have expected this from Jo or Greasy, but Mags and Annie, well it’s INCONCEIVABLE!

I begin to speak. “He asked me to meet him at the edge of town, near route twelve.”

“Isn't that where Ripper’s place is?” Effie questioned, and she couldn’t hide her revulsion.

“Yup,” I said, popping the ‘P’, thinking of the bar that disguised itself as an eatery. It was a seedy diner with cracked linoleum floors, yellowing formica, booths that had patches, blinking lights, and rickety chairs.

“That’s where he asked you to meet him?” Mag’s sounds outraged. “That place is…is-”

“- a bedhaven for unsavory characters,” Foxface finishes.

“You're brainless,” Jo mutters darkly. "Ripper's isn't the type of place you can go to Katniss. You should have called me."

As protective as I am about my friends, so is Jo. She's tough on the outside but has a really soft center. It's what makes her a perfect shark in the courtroom. Not that Darius was a jerk during our divorce. He actually wasn't. Johanna was present at the restaurant where he announced he wanted a divorce. Johanna later said it was my face, the vulnerability I tried to hide was why she took my divorce pro-bono.

“I drove and brought my bottle of mace.” I know what everyone was thinking. The area in town where Ripper’s is located at, made the bad side of town look like a tourist destination. I didn't mind meeting my date there. I was looking forward to a basket of fries. Ripper's had amazing beer-battered fries.

I've been to Ripper's once. I was with Gale and Thom who needed to score fake IDs. I ordered the fries, since I wasn't there for an ill gotten identification. But let me tell you, those fries. Oh! Holy mother of fries, no other fries can compare.

Shivers!

I love food; it's why I'm a food critic now. What's so funny is that it was those fries that began my career as Buttercup, the elusive food critic. Back then I was Buttercup, the fussy eater. I blogged about them, no, I lavished them with love. I love my job. I can go into any restaurant, order anything on the menu, blog about it and get paid handsomely. And, most importantly, I can do it anonymously. Not even Darius knew I was Buttercup. He thought I was a boring housewife. Getting back to the fries, I wasn’t deterred from getting my fries.

“So then what happened?” Annie asked.

“He was there waiting for me. He stood up and smiled. And he's massive-"

"Just like a book cover," Foxface mutters.

"He said his name wasn't Anthony, it’s Gloss.”

“Gloss?” Everyone said at the same time.

“Yup.” I sighed. “It was a sign. I should've left." Damn those fries!

“So Gloss…" Peeta's sparkling eyes are on mine, his are an amazing hue of blue, like the indigo milk cap mushrooms. "Looks like Thor." He frowns. "Thor with the long hair or short?"

"Long." The women around me answered as one.

Peeta turned those gorgeous eyes back to me.

Thor isn’t my cup of tea. I shrugged to show my indifference. "Gloss was sporting the Ragnarok look, short hair with facial hair."

I swear I watch Peeta mouth, "short hair."

"Anyway, we sat at a booth. It was packed, actually." That should've been clue number two. Men at a joint like Ripper's at 8:30 on a Friday night, it was by the highway, plausible. But packed with just as many women. "The waitress who took our drink order could barely hear me."

"Was he nice?" Annie asks.

"He was sweet." Truthfully Gloss was a sweet guy. He talked about his mother in a positive way, even if she gave him the name that was another descriptor for shiny objects. "He was attentive too. He told me his mother worked in the makeup industry. "

"That doesn't sound too awful," Delly says.

"He sounds delightful." Mags pushes her reading glasses up the bridge of her nose. The gang is getting tired of the story and I hope they will move on to the reason we are gathered, discussing the book we were reading. I begin to reach into my backpack because I really hate purses.

"If he's so delightful, why did he ask you to meet him at Ripper's?" Johanna says in her cross examination voice.

I wince as I take out my book.

"Yes, you must explain." Foxface demands.

"It's not nice to leave us dangling." Effie levels a look at me that has me squirming, feeling like I was being summoned into the principal's office.

"I wanna know how you know Gloss has a twelve pack," Greasy says.

Peeta looks at me expectantly.

Anndddd were back. I sigh. Will he run for the hills when I tell him? Most likely.

"We were talking about dancing.” My voice loses all it’s warmth. “I don't dance."

This causes a rumble of laughter and giggles amongst the women. Peeta looks confused. Finally Delly wipes the tears from her face and gasps, “You should never dance. Ever!”

"That poor man’s toes,” Mags says, her shoulders shaking.

“Do I need to know?” Peeta looks between them.

“I don’t dance!” I growl. The group erupts into another bout of laughter.

“It was a scheme, a dirty underhanded scheme,” Effie says.

The guy I was supposed to date was a dance instructor. He used the dating app as a way to drum up business. When the women meet him, he pairs them with guys who were there for a lesson. He paired me with a poor man named Harry. My nerves got the better of me, because I don’t like to be touched. Harry’s hands were sweaty. Harry tried to dip me as per my date’s instructions. I tripped, and in the process his toes were crushed, and I ended up with a sprained ankle.

When I arrived in crutches to the next book club, well, that was one of those dates that simmers at the surface vying to be in the top three.

“Gloss didn’t believe me. He said anyone can dance. I told him no, and explained that there are people who are predisposed to fly in airplanes, and some who get motion sickness in a car. “

“What happened next?” Foxface asks, moving to the edge of her chair.

“He went to the jukebox.”

“Oh no,” Johanna mutters. “Did he end up in the hospital?”

“Is that how you know he’s got a twelve pack?” Greasy questions. The ladies, and Peeta are all staring at me.

I shake my head. Why couldn’t there be a rush of customers right now? It is calm and I know the odds are against me.

“Spill it!” Johanna demands.

“Well, he queued up a song and waited a beat, and then Lenny’s Kravits’ American Woman started blaring. Gloss started sauntering and spun and did the splits on the floor. Next thing I know, the women in the place go nuts. They surround him, like a rabid pack of wild dogs.”

“Wait, what!” Delly exclaims her pale eyes bright, she grips the book in her hand.

“That doesn’t happen,” Peeta says.

“It does to her,” Foxface said, her eyes shining with ferocity, like the eyes of those women at Rippers.

“Shut it blondie,” Johanna orders.

“Yeah,” Annie says.

Taking a deep breath I continue. “He started dancing...hips…” my brain flashing to his hips gyrating. “...jutting out and…”

“Ohhhhh yeah,” Greasy cackles.

“Gyrating, his hips gyrating,” Foxface gasps.

With eyes closed I nod. “His hips were doing that all over the place. He then jumped on the table and proceeded to rip off his shirt. He shouted my name and told me his next move was his favorite. He spun onto his knees and slid up in my face before dropping his drawers.” I lower my eyes.

“What,” Delly squeaked. “His pants?”

“It’s like Magic Mike,” Mags whispers.

I know the movie Mag’s is referring to. I’ve never seen it. “Yes.”

“Was he naked-” Foxface began.

“-or was he wearing-” Annie cut Foxface off only to be cut off herself.

“A G-String!” Greasy shouted excited.

I shook my head no. He wasn’t wearing anything, I can feel the heat burning my ears.

“Well don’t stop! What happened next!” Even Effie has lost her sense of propriety.

“As I looked for an escape. It’s then I noticed the poster on the wall, for the Slag Heap.” I pause and sigh, “Men’s Magic Friday Night Extravaganza, and Gloss was the headliner. I realized he’s a stripper.”

And the place erupts in laughter.

“What did you do?” Peeta asks.

My eyes connect with his.

“I slunk down to the floor and crawled my way out...drove to the hospital and made my sister administer a tetanus shot.”

“Can I have his number?” Johanna says laughing but her eyes are dead serious.

Peeta is smiling at me and I grab a cheese bun because they are as delicious as the man staring at me.

Eventually we do get to the book, and it’s a pretty good discussion. Peeta let us stay until closing. Mags and Greasy are the last of the ladies to leave. It’s just me and Peeta since he let the staff go home. I’m loitering because I feel like I need to explain to Peeta why I let the ladies talk me into dating.

I’m putting up the chairs on the tables when Peeta comes out.

“You’re still here?”

“Yeah.” I look down at my feet.

“Katniss.”

“Peeta.” We both say at the same time, followed by a nervous chuckle.

“You first,” Peeta insists, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Dating wasn’t my idea.”

“It wasn't?” He raised an eyebrow.

I shake my head.

“So what happened?”

“The ladies, they got me a year long subscription for my birthday, and knowing I wouldn’t go through with it, they choose who I date...until I find someone,” I can feel the heat rising from my neck and reaching my cheeks, “I like.”

“Really?”

I nod, incapable of speaking. I cannot stop watching the way he blinks, those darned translucent lashes that never tangle.

“Dating is pretty brutal.”

“Yeah,” I snort because dating is horrible.

“My family is constantly setting me up. I went out with a girl who sang through the entire meal. She chose the pasta and sang On Top of Spaghetti.”

“What?” I laugh.

“That was my dad’s doing. My mom’s choice was a lot scarier. She made me do an obstacle course and made me do it three times until I beat the time she wanted me to reach.”

“Wow.”

“I was dressed in dress slacks, a nice shirt, and a tie.” He deadpans, “I even had on dress shoes.”

“I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he shrugs.

I couldn't help but smile.

“Dating sucks until you find someone who makes you laugh, someone who makes dancing easy.”

He approaches or maybe it’s my own feet that carry me to him. But it doesn’t matter because when his arm slides along my waist, and the other cradles my hand, I have no fears. There is something familiar with him as I dance with him. A slow shuffle, that has the room spinning but none of it matters because I feel at home.

“Will you dance with me Katniss?” His voice rumbles in my ear and my heart is pounding in my chest.

His scent is a warm heady mixture of spices, dill, vanilla, and cinnamon.

“Would you go out with me Katniss?”

“Yes,” I answer, and just like that my dating profile goes up in flames. Ladies and gentlemen, I am officially off the market.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #fan fic #by mega-aulover

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everlarkbirthdaygifts · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday, iamasradiantasthesun!

Happy belated Birthday, @iamasradiantasthesun! We hope you had a wonderful day on the 14th, and celebrated in style! To bring your party back around, the lovely @mega-aulover has written a story just for you!

A/N: so I kinda of took this and ran with it….I used for inspiration this quote in Mockingjay:

Peeta. Alive and well – maybe not well but alive and here. Away from Snow. Safe. Here. With me. In a minute I can touch him. See his smile. Hear his laugh.

Haymitch’s grinning at me. “Come on, then,” he says.

I’m light-headed with giddiness. What will I say? Oh, who cares what I say? Peeta will be ecstatic no matter what I do. He’ll probably be kissing me anyway. I wonder if it will feel like those last kisses on the beach in the arena, the ones I haven’t dared let myself consider until this moment.

And I took your suggestion and this is what poured out of my crazy brain: Thanks to @jrosley and @norbermom for betaing.

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Part One--

Katniss lay on her bed curled up in a ball. Glad to be out of the hospital and the staff that loved to do nothing but poke and prod her. Five weeks since she arrived, four weeks since she’d been let go from the infirmary. Classified emotionally distraught, she went to see a doctor once daily. He asked her questions to see how fragile she was, and to gauge if she was ready to become a soldier.

Once more, she couldn’t sleep. Her mind was a whirl of activities. First came the conversation with Finnick where he pointed out that she loved Peeta. She was stubborn in admitting it to herself that she loved Peeta. For a long time she denied her feelings, because she was afraid of becoming like her mother.

But it happened. The man Katniss loved was ripped from her. She became a strange, half-dead creature that roamed the underground tunnels of District Thirteen. She had so much to deal with and she couldn’t let herself come undone.

The second bit of news was Coin wanted her to be the face of the rebellion, the Mockingjay. Katniss was sure she did not want to have anything to do with that woman. Katniss did not trust Alma Coin. The similarities between Snow and Coin were too congruent. She turned onto her back and wondered what Peeta would do. He was the one she’d always imagined as the mouthpiece for the rebellion, not her.

Her mind conjured up the image of Peeta speaking into the microphone. The way his lips moved. The column of his neck as his Adam’s apple bobbled when he swallowed. The sound of his voice over the speaker, or the way he sounded when they were tucked together at night on the train.

Her thoughts went to a memory of running down the corridor of the train with him quickly gaining ground. She turned her face to look back at him. She remembered the uncontrolled laughter that had escaped her lips when he caught her hand and dragged her into her compartment. The way his voice sounded in her ear as he purred compliments about her dress. Her heart had pounded heavily against her chest as she made her choice.

She kissed him recklessly, telling him with her mouth, her hands, that she wanted to be with him.

“Katniss, are you sure?” Peeta’s voice was timid, probing, yet sounded perfect to her ears.

“Yes,” she answered.

He waited for a beat, to give her a moment to think about what they were about to do. The feel of Peeta’s lips claiming hers overwhelmed her until her legs gave out. The memory of their first time danced in her mind. Katniss groaned and turned to her side, tucking her thighs against her belly. “Peeta,” her mind whispered, and chanted. Her heart beat out his name, Peeta, Peeta, Peeta.

He was her third worry. Her nights were spent dreaming of him. Her fist gripped the Pearl tightly. Every fiber of her being wanted him back. “Peeta,” She brokenly whispered into the sterile room.

Only his arms could make her feel better. Tears slipped down her face. Peeta was captured by the Capitol. She wished he was dead; she didn’t want him to suffer, and no doubt Snow would torture him. She thought of the last kiss they shared on the beach; the one that caused her to become hungry, so hungry. Her body became alight with the desire to be with Peeta again. Nothing she did quenched that longing. It was painful to have him torn away from her. Night after night she dreamt of him coming into her bed, only to be awakened to the reality, a cold, empty bed. In the hospital ward, she could openly weep, no one heard her. Now that she was discharged she couldn’t, not with Prim and her mother in the same room.

She whimpered quietly. The naked need to have him consumed her. Tears slipped unaided from her eyes. Soon her shoulders shook, as she could not contain her misery.

“Katniss,” her sister’s touch was light on her shoulder, right before she climbed into bed with Katniss. Primrose’s small arms wrapped around her frame. Katniss scooted away, leaving enough space for her sister.

Her small voice echoed in the sleeping area, “You miss him?”

Katniss mutely nodded.

“Then ask for him.”

Prim’s words were simple but effective, they made her stop crying. Katniss sat up to look at her sister. She wiped the tears from her face. “What?”

“Coin wants you to be the Mockingjay. You can ask for anything, including a pardon for him. She’ll have to give it to you. She’ll give you anything because she needs you to be the face of the rebellion!”

It had never crossed Katniss’ mind that Coin would give her anything to be the face of the rebellion. Katniss smiled for the first time since waking up in District Thirteen. Prim, her thirteen-year-old sister was correct. “I need to take a walk, clear my head.”

“Okay, but be careful.” Prim gave her one more hug before she slipped from the bed.

Katniss slipped from the slab with the thin mattress and into her district-issued pair of gray boots. She slipped on a sweater and made her way out of the room.

It was silent at this time of night. All of the residents were sleeping, only a few were up, those who worked in the night appointed hours. Katniss ran her hands absentmindedly on the grey concrete. She closed her eyes and she could picture a different wall, the shower wall. She could feel the way the water ran down her body. She was pressed up against the wall, her fingers dug into the wall looking for support. Peeta’s head nestled against her neck, gently biting and sucking. He looked up and his blue eyes were dark with passion.

“Katniss.” The gravelly voice did not belong to Peeta. Katniss frowned and opened her eyes to see Haymitch staring at her. It was the first time they’d come in contact since she arrived in this godforsaken place. All of her anger bubbled up.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

Katniss slapped Haymitch in the face. “You left him there.”

“You separated yourself from him,” Haymitch answered back, holding his cheek.

“You were supposed to save him. Oh Haymitch, he’s dying; I know it!” Katniss couldn’t help the trembling that overcame her body. Haymitch caught her as her knees began to buckle. He held her as she cried. Haymitch understood, because he loved Peeta too.

Haymitch comforted her, rather poorly and awkwardly. “It’s okay sweetheart.” He pulled her away. They walked until they reached his room. He sat down with her at the table. “I heard Coin asked you to be the Mockingjay.”

“Word gets around here fast.”

“It does, sweetheart. You know this is an opportunity for you to demand what you want.” Haymitch took out a handkerchief and blew his nose. “You need to be prudent about what you want.”

“My sister said the same thing.” Katniss smiled.

“I always knew I liked Prim,” Haymitch said, putting his handkerchief away. “So what are you thinking about? What are your demands going to be?”

“Well, a pardon for Peeta and Annie and any or all of the people captured by Snow. Who knows what he’s doing to them.” Katniss braced her hands on the table.

Haymitch nodded his agreement, “Good, what else.”

“I want Peeta back, as soon as possible.”

“You’re going to have to push for that.” Haymitch raised an eyebrow. “Coin will agree, but she’s not going to spare anything for him as long as she has you.”

“Well she’s going to have to, Haymitch.” Katniss answered, she swallowed nervously. Her foot began to tap up and down.

Haymitch frowned.

“Haymitch, what Peeta said during the interview, it wasn’t a lie,” Katniss whispered.

“Yes it was, the kid was-”

Katniss cut Haymitch off and put her hand on her stomach, silently staring at Haymitch, willing for him to understand her.

Haymitch stopped, staring at her, then his eyes took a quizzical appraisal of her body. His eyes went to her middle, and uttered a curse under his breath when he saw the soft roundness in her belly when she pulled apart the baggy clothing.

“The baby is real, Haymitch, the baby is real. I can feel it moving within me.”

Part Two--

“DAMN IT GIRL!!!” Haymitch slammed his palms against the surface of the table. He stood and paced. “How the hell could you let this happen?!!”

“It wasn’t like we planned this, it just happened. We thought we were careful.” Katniss swallowed. They were always careful when they were together. Peeta was very mindful that Katniss didn’t want to have children. He didn’t want kids either, not with the threat Snow held against them. He was sure Snow or his successor would send any of their future children into the arenas.

“Does your mother know?” Haymitch

Katniss sat stoically.

“I guess not, by the look on your face.” Haymitch tiredly rubbed his face.

“Neither my mother nor my sister know about the baby or our toasting. They, like everyone who knows us, think it’s fake.”

“I thought getting sober was hard.” Haymitch sighed then he frowned. “Wait, the tests were negative.”

Katniss looked down, she wrung her hands together. “When we arrived at the Capitol, Cinna took one look at me and knew. Cinna told me in confidence my measurements were off,” Katniss pointed to her chest. “He said they were larger than my normal diminutive size. He told me to tell Peeta. Cinna gave me something so that all the tests came out negative, to fool them. He was concerned about what Snow was capable of. At the time, I was only in my first trimester, but Peeta knew what Cinna did.”

Haymitch turned around and saw her silent tears. “So if they tested you here when we lifted you out of the arena, it wouldn’t have showed up?”

Katniss shrugged. “I’m guessing when I was brought here; the drug was still in my system.”

“So the boy knew the whole time?” Haymitch was incredulous.

Katniss looked up from beneath her lashes. “I told him the night before our interviews, Peeta was mad. But there was nothing he could do about it.”

“So he told the nation, hoping to really stop the games,” Haymitch whispered as he sunk back down into the seat.

Katniss splayed her hands on her still flat stomach. “We have to get Peeta out. I don’t think Coin would like a pregnant Mockingjay.”

Haymitch stood, and helped her stand. His eyes carefully scanned her frame. “You have to get tested, to make sure you are, still...I mean you could have lost the baby with the explosion to the arena.” Haymitch spoke quickly, as she paced in the room. “We’ll go down to the infirmary. There's a doctor down there that likes me; she’ll do the test.”

Katniss nodded, but she knew it in her bones she still was. Her breasts were bigger and she hadn’t had her period since they were training. “Okay, if that’s what you need.”

Haymitch nodded and they were off again. The gray halls of District Thirteen were as unwelcoming as the white halls of the training facility in the Capitol. When they arrived, Haymitch signaled her to stay by the entrance. Katniss watched Haymitch approach the nurse’s station. Within seconds a woman came sauntering into the room. She’d never seen her mentor flirt; it was disturbing. He leaned into the counter and swiped his hand into his hair. The woman blushed. Katniss rubbed her eyes with disbelief.

She put her hand on her stomach. Her lashes fluttered closed as her mind went back to the day she told Peeta about the baby. They spent the day upstairs on the roof and snuck their way back downstairs.

Peeta whispered as they lay in bed, “You’re acting weird.”

Katniss was nervous, she hadn’t told Peeta about the baby yet. She tried to redirect the conversation. “We’re going to die in the arena. How do you think I should be acting, Peeta?”

His grin was slow, he touched her face. “You can’t lie to me, it’s something else, I can tell. What is it, Katniss?”

Katniss swallowed anxiously. She shook her head, not wanting to tell her secret.

He leaned over her, looking at her expectantly. Peeta knew her better than anyone else. “Katniss we don’t keep secrets from each other. What is it?”

Bravely, she took his hand and placed it on her stomach. “I’m pregnant.”

Peeta became pale, his eyes widened, as the realization hit him with the force of a runaway train. Suddenly, he sat up and pulled her with him. They were headed up to the roof; it was the only place that was safe enough for them to talk. Once there he lost it; he overturned some furniture. Spent, he sat down heavily, tears streaming down his face.

Katniss sat next to him and she too cried. The odds were never in their favor.

Peeta demanded, “How?”

Katniss bit her lower lip. “I’m guessing that day we argued because of training. We weren’t exactly thinking straight.”

His blue gaze narrowed in on her stomach. “Do you want to be pregnant?”

Katniss had time to think about this. Quietly she answered his question, “I want a world where your baby can grow without limits, Peeta. A place he or she will be unafraid of the reaping, starving or the games. I want this baby to be free.”

She stood and walked to the veranda. She looked down at the darkened street below, a silent tear fell from her face. He wrapped his arms around her middle from behind. She leaned up against his chest.

He whispered against her ear, “I’m sorry, I did this to you.”

“No, you don’t have anything to be sorry about, Peeta.” She turned around in his arms. Katniss gazed at him, determined to fight. She wanted to save his life. He would have a better chance outside of the games than she did. Snow would find a way to kill her regardless. “I have a piece of you with me, even if it’s only for a short time, Peeta.”

Peeta looked at her with determination and she knew he was going to do everything in his power to make her survive. This look scared her, but she kissed him and together they went back downstairs, had their toasting and made love until the prep team came to prepare them for the interviews. Little did she know Peeta would tell the nation or that one month later she still held within her womb a piece of Peeta.

Her lashes fluttered open. Her eyes adjusted to the dimmed lighting of the hallway. She looked through the window. Haymitch and the doctor were in a deep conversation.

They talked until she saw her mentor approach. Haymitch opened the door and, whispered, “Come on kid, she’s going to do us the favor.”

Katniss followed silently, and sat in a room. The woman pricked her finger, and put her blood on a narrow strip. She inserted it into the machine, and it flashed. The doctor looked at Katniss, shock on her face. “She’s pregnant!”

“Can you get this written up for me on her official records? I think President Coin will want to know about this,” Haymitch said.

“Oh yes, of course.”

They waited until the doctor was out of the room. “What do we do now Haymitch?”

“We tell Coin and she rescues the boy.”

Part Three--

That morning, the interview between Peeta and Caesar Flickerman was broadcast. Katniss was besides herself as she listened to Peeta ask for a ceasefire. She saw him for the first time. "Peeta," She openly whispered.

He didn't look bad, but she questioned when this was taped. Her soul ached as his smooth baritone voice filled the room. His speech was so smooth. Some even laughed at his joke. A small smile permeated her face. She marveled at the ease he had before the cameras despite the looming pressure of pleasing President Snow. There was nothing natural about having to perform with the threat of death lurking in the air. She always was a wreck right before interviews. The room morphed around her and she found herself waiting to be seen by Caesar during the victory tour.

"Nervous or are you thinking about what we did in the training room?" His breath tickled her ear. His hand gently squeezed her waist.

Katniss chuckled. Her nervousness ended quickly. Peeta always made her feel calm before interviews. She turned her head to face him. "How do you do this Peeta, how do you stay so calm?"

He pecked her lips softly. "I see you in my head and I think about every good thing there is about you. You’re my reason to fight Katniss, the reason I want to live."

His reply left her speechless. There was nothing pretty or nice about her, yet he saw some good within her. She was his reason to go on. Peeta was telling her with his words that he loved her. When it came time for him to propose there were genuine tears of joy in her eyes. Now, as she saw him talking about the cruelties of war, the consequences of killing people, she knew he was thinking about her. Thinking about how the war would affect their child.

The murmurs began discreetly, but then grew stronger. The reaction to his warning was loud booing and hissing from the residents. They called him turncoat, they said he sold himself.

Katniss wanted to yell and tell them Peeta wasn’t a traitor. But their voices were too loud. Her fury turned to frustration. They didn't know Peeta. She glanced at Haymitch before she ran out of the room.

Haymitch chased her through the corridors. Katniss hid in a closet. She cried uncontrollably. The door opened forcefully. A winded Haymitch came in. Katniss ignored him, turning around and facing the other wall. She wanted to wallow in her loneliness.

Haymitch grasped her shoulders and turned her around to face him. “Girl, get a hold of yourself.”

“They think he’s a traitor,” she sobbed.

"You and I both know the boy said those things to protect you and the baby. Who knows what lies Snow told him!"

Katniss began to calm down but it was hard to do. She hated thinking people saw him in a bad light. Large tears fell from her silver eyes. Her lips trembled as she spoke. "Haymitch, they think... they know him because of what he said."

“You have to change their minds, Katniss. You have to get in your head that Coin needs Peeta or else this ain't gonna work girl,” Haymitch said with authority.

Katniss hadn’t heard Haymitch use this voice since the moment she woke up from the first games and he told her the Capitol was upset with her. Reality sobered her up. She hiccupped and nodded her head.

Haymitch was satisfied, but his voice continued with the same gravity. “Good, now you know that woman is going to throw the ceasefire in your face. She’s going to call him a traitor. She’ll even throw one of her attack dogs at your throat. Don’t let her win. Don’t let her get the best of you.” Haymitch let go of her shoulders.

Her mentor was right; she had to remain calm. No matter what was thrown at her in command. "Okay. Let's go."

The room was in an uproar as the interview finished. Katniss braced herself, as she stood in the back of the room. She looked down, wondering if coming here at this precise moment was a good idea. Coin’s goons demanded Peeta be shot for his betrayal. Their voices quieted as they noted her presence in the background.

"Soldier Abernathy, you weren't asked to come to command," Alma Coin calmly said sitting down in her chair. Her pin straight gray hair hung to her shoulders. Her face was pale, her lips showed no emotions.

Her staff silently blended into the background. Plutarch sat down just to her side, his exuberance could be read.

"Ma'am,” Haymitch took out his handkerchief and blew into it as he addressed Coin. “I mean Madam President, I'm here as her mentor, helping her make the right decision."

Plutarch whispered something in Coin's ear. Her flat eyes narrowed in on Katniss. The last meeting they had in this room was a one-sided demand. Coin expected her to happily say she wanted to be the symbol of the revolution.

“Miss Everdeen, how good of you to see me so quickly,” Coin smugly said.

No one else but Katniss heard Coin’s tone of voice. Katniss glanced briefly at Haymitch before she sat down at the table. “I have come to a decision.”

"In light of what happened, I am sure you see why your services are needed," Plutarch jumped in.

Katniss bit her tongue at Plutarch's comment.

“Well, what is it?” Coin’s eyes lit up, just as Snow’s did when he knew he had you in his clutches.

"I will be the Mockingjay." The room exploded in spontaneous applause.

Coin waited until the clapping stopped before she addressed the ex-game maker. "Plutarch we need to get the propaganda films started."

“I have terms, Madame President.” Katniss waited to see what the woman would say.

“Oh, I wasn’t aware this was a negotiation.” Coin picked up her pen slowly.

Katniss mutely stared back, she shrugged. “I guess you don’t need me then.”

No one dared comment.

Katniss slowly turned around to leave. She could hear Plutarch muttering something to Coin but Katniss didn’t pay attention. She was focused on leaving the room.

“Wait, what are your terms?”

“My sister keeps her cat,” Katniss began with the easiest one.

“What, we don’t have enough rations…food preservation is very important.”

“So is controlling the mice that can get into the food. He can kill them. I know you have a rodent problem.”

Coin raised an eyebrow. “Fine, we’ll move your compartment to a place with a window sill so that the cat can help with the rodents.”

“I want to hunt, contribute something toward the war. Fresh meat will help the soldiers.”

“That is admirable.” Coin said, her steely gaze never leaving hers. “What else do you want?”

“A rescue and pardon of Peeta, Annie, Johanna, and anyone else Snow has in his lair.”

A shock resounded in the room.

“No.” Coin’s word was as dead as the rodents that Buttercup delighted in bringing to Primrose.

Katniss turned away. “Fine.”

“Wait, can’t we make a concession,” Plutarch jumped up in desperation.

“We do not have the manpower or the time, and besides, after today, after what that traitor said…” Coin trailed off. The room exploded in murmurs and snide comments about Peeta.

Katniss turned back around. She slammed her hand on the table. “You would do it to protect your family. As far as Peeta knows you’re just as bad as Snow. I am his family, he loves me and if he feels that I’m being threatened he will do whatever it takes to keep me safe. Just like I would do anything to keep him safe.”

“There, that’s the Mockingjay, that’s the flame of the revolution!” Plutarch said.

All of the people in the room were staring at Katniss with admiration for her gumption and pluck to go toe to toe with Coin.

Coin’s mouth became a thin line. She twitched her nose. A quick silent agreement.

"You will rescue Peeta and the other prisoners and you will pardon him in front of everyone. And you will tell them that Peeta is doing this for his family.”

Coin snaked her eyes up her form. “How can you prove what you say is true.”

Katniss quietly opened up her shirt and the room gasped when they saw her belly. “Because our baby is real, and Peeta knows it. In a month or two I will be useless to you. Peeta with his ability to speak to Panem will be a great asset to the rebellion. So I’m telling you, you need to get him now.”

Coin’s eyes traveled from her belly up to Katniss face. “How?”

“Cinna gave her something to hide the pregnancy. Had she stayed another week in the infirmary they would have discovered her state,” Haymitch said. “You have to get the boy, ma’am.”

Beetee, who was quiet until this time wheeled up to the group. “It is feasible to get into their system. I designed it, afterall. We just need a distraction.”

“Boggs?” Plutarch asked.

“If we blow up the dam in District Five, we can shut down the power,” Boggs said. He looked tough, like someone who was in charge.

“With the power down, I can easily knock down their system and the forcefield around the city. We can go to the training center and rescue Peeta and the other prisoners.

“I volunteer,” Gale said.

Katniss hadn’t been aware that he was present. His eyes looked down to her belly momentarily before he stood before Coin. At Gale’s actions, others also volunteered.

“Okay Mockingjay, you have an agreement. But I need something tomorrow from you,” Coin said, her tone harsh, before she dismissed Katniss.

Part Four--

“YOU'RE PREGNANT!”

Her mother didn’t take it well. She was half yelling, half screeching, for the better part of five minutes.

“I didn’t find out from you! I found out through stupid chatty Haya. The woman is a threat to anyone’s sanity. She came up to me and congratulated me, asking me...ME...if I was ecstatic to be a GRANDMOTHER!”

Katniss winced.

“Elanor,” Hayimitch said. He held out his hands to calm her mother down.

Her mother took a sharp look at Haymitch. He took a step back.

“You knew.”

“I only found out a few days ago,” he said.

“Way to throw me under the bus,” Katniss muttered.

“But I will tell you this, don’t alienate her. She’s going to need you. She’s going to need all of us, because this war isn’t going to go away soon.”

Her mother stopped, her eyes digging into Katniss. Haymitch was right and that’s why she needed Peeta.

“Is that why you scooted away from me the other night?: Prim quietly stated from her chair. She stood up, her small face filled with tears.”Why you’ve been hiding in the bathroom to dress and get ready for the past few weeks. Why you need Peeta?”

Katniss could feel the tears coming on, she nodded. Closing her eyes she tried to compose herself. “They’re going to rescue him in a week, but I have to come up with something to appease Coin tomorrow.”

“Sing,” Prim suggested.

“What?” Katniss frowned unsure. “Sing?”

“Katniss,” Prim said. “And Haymitch can back me up on this.” Prim turned around. “When you sang to Rue the entire nation stopped to listen to you. Sing Peeta a song. Let him know you want him home.”

“We could film you in a way that wouldn’t show off your belly.” Haymitch walked around her, his head nodding. “Katniss cannot be forced though. It has to come natural or else she sounds stiff. The boy knew this. It’s why he did all of the talking during the tour.”

Katniss closed her eyes as another memory lays thicky on her shoulders. Peeta’s jubilant laugh as he tried to make her laugh after a long day in District Five. Katniss blamed herself for the tribute she nicknamed Foxface. Peeta began a food fight in his cabin with her. Her laughter caused her to forget the faces of the dead tributes, the terror of the Games, of not being able to sleep because she was afraid of dying. Her eyes looked up. Peeta loved it when she sang.

“I can do it,” she blurted. “I can give him the message.”

Her mother turned her face away. “I don’t know what to say to you, but as soon as Peeta is rescued. You are leaving this room. You’ll have him.”

Katniss swallowed pained by her mothers rejection. This was the woman who couldn’t take care of her daughters and once more had abandoned her in her hour of her need. “Fine.”

“Elanor,” Haymitch said.

“No,” her mother said. She looked at her arm. “I’m needed in the infirmary.”

Part Five--

A day later Katniss rubbed her belly, thinking of the baby that survived the arena, and five weeks in this dungeon, who would soon be united with its father. She didn’t sleep that night. When morning came, she dressed and found her pants were tight.

Yesterday Coin announced that they were going to rescue the surviving Victors. She also disclosed that Peeta said what he did because of Katniss' condition. The sight of Katniss with her belly made the jeering crowd grow quiet. There hadn’t been a new baby born in District Thirteen in over ten years. Her pregnancy was so rare and so coveted that forgiving Peeta for his words because a mother and a fetus' health was prized in District Thirteen.

“Here,” Prim said quietly, slipping a rubber band around the button then slid it through the eyehole then slipped it around the button again.

“Thank you.” Katniss wasn’t sure what to make of Prim’s peace offering.

“You’re scared,” Prim pointed out.

“Coin wasn’t happy, she looked like..” Katniss drifted. She recalled the way Coin’s cold eyes scanned her body. “If she could, she would make me get rid of the baby.”

“Then we have to get Peeta home. What song do you want to sing?”

“I’m not sure yet.” Katniss sighed. She wanted to see Peeta so badly, she craved his presence, his hands, and his touch.

“Then think of Peeta, and my niece or nephew.”

Katniss nodded then let Prim’s words wash over her. She headed out of her family's quarters to the cafeteria. She was suddenly ravenous. She stood in line and people were looking at her. It caused her to want to put the tray down and walk away.

“Soldier Everdeen?” The man in front of her stepped to the side to let her pass him.

“But?”

“Please,” his eyes flickered her to her middle.

Katniss stepped forward. She quickly took her rations and went to sit down.

Finnick sat down beside her; he didn’t wait for her to acknowledge him. "Thank you for what you did for Annie. For making Coin go get them."

Finnick looked relieved and not as sallow. He had a hard time grasping reality. He held a small section of rope, the thing he used to calm and ground himself. He'd taught her various knots.

"I couldn't leave him there."

"Makes sense. I mean, you love him; anyone who looks at you long enough can see it. Though, in the beginning, we thought it was a plan by you two. But in the arena, when his heart stopped and you lost it, I knew it was real for you and for him. I'm sorry that we couldn't get him out."

"But we're getting him out now and Annie," his voice cracked at the mention of her name.

Katniss understood his desperation. "They're going to get her out, and you're going to be together-" Katniss looked for a way to talk to him. Words were so hard for her. "I'm trying not to shatter."

"You can't put yourself together after that."

"Try to keep it together when we get Peeta, Annie, and Johanna and any other Victor that may be alive."

Finnick nodded and the hope of seeing Annie lightened his bearance. Katniss watched him leave with his rope as he tied it and put it in his pocket.

"Excuse me Soldier Everdeen...I mean Mellark. Please," a young woman said offering Katniss the rationed energy bar. "For the baby."

"Won't you get in trouble?"

"It's a custom to give expecting mother's unwanted rations."

The young woman smiled and no sooner was she gone than another person came and gave her milk. Baffled by the behavior, she didn’t complain; she was ravenous this morning. She ate like Buttercup as if this was her last meal. She drank the milk and the offered energy bar.

Katniss left the cafeteria and headed to the machine that printed the daily schedules. Detachedly watched the machine print her schedule. Her nerves like frayed wires. She wasn’t sure if singing would placate Coin, or her offering would cause the world to see how much this rebellion had to work, because it was the only way their baby could live a free and equitable life.

“Morning sweetheart,” Haymitch addressed. “Let’s go.”

“Go?” Haymitch’s abrupt command caused her to narrow her eyes.

“We’re getting out of here. We’re going outside. You need to be outside away from this hellhole.”

Haymitch was correct, the outdoors calmed her nerves. It was written on her tattoo as Propo.

“Katniss this is Cresida, she’s going to film you.”

A woman with her head shaved with tattoo’s on it smiled. Cressida had to be from the Capitol. Katniss couldn’t picture anyone in District Thirteen having such a radical look. In 13, everyone was buttoned up in solid gray. “This is my team, Messalla, my assistant.”

Cressida pointed to a man with an intense gaze and many piercings.

“That’s the filming squad, Castor and Pollux.”

Katniss turned to the twins. One was using his hands to signal. As he spoke, the other nodded and Katniss was taken aback. The one that didn’t speak was an avox and she wondered what his crime was that caused his tongue to be cut out and made him a slave of the Capitol.

“We’re going to be following you around; just pretend we’re not here.”

Katniss nodded.

“Done with the introductions?” Boggs asked quietly.

Katniss was startled; she hadn’t seen Boggs standing next to her, Gale stood just off to his side. Boggs led the small expedition. Gale fell besides her.

“Why?”

Gales words were torn, his voice raw, like all of those times he raged against the Capitol.

“Because I need him,” her hand went to her belly. The baby swished.

“Need,” Gale groused, “Apparently enough to…”

“To what Gale? Choose him. To want him and this life.” She glanced down, the brutal honesty was on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she quietly said, “It was always going to be him. No matter what. I recognize that now. No matter what happened in life...even if the odds were stacked against us...Peeta and I will always find a way to be together.”

Gale looked at her with his hard eyes, they only softened when they took in her form, blooming with motherhood. “We’re going to rescue him tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Katniss said.

Gale left her side.

“You okay, Sweetheart?” Haymitch asked.

Katniss nodded. Though her mind was now worried about the mission tomorrow and what could happen if they weren’t successful. Her hands rubbed her belly.

“I know you love him too,” Haymitch stated the facts that had been plain for everyone to see but that took her forever to discover.

Drained by Gale and the new worry, she stopped and took stock of her environment.

The cool breeze, the scent of the grass, the sound of the birds chirping. The field of wildflowers reminded her of the concentrated way Peeta drew them in her fathers plant book, when she busted her ankle. Peeta was an angel not wanting to touch her, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want him to. She had stared so hard at him. He caught her, and despite her trying to act as if he hadn’t seen her, he told her that that moment was the most normal they’d had. He then flashed her the sweetest smile that made her toes curl.

Peeta was right. Everything they experienced was so out of proportion. Everything they experienced was for survival in one shape or form. Her watching Peeta as his hands moved across the page, bringing lines to realistic life without a reason to pretend to be someone other than who they were. They didn’t have to lie, mame, kill, or destroy. They were just two kids, falling in love, noticing the silly things about each other, like how his eye lashes were so long and translucent and yet never tangled.

The memory was so sweet and poignant tears clouded her vision. She didn’t even see where she was going. They reached ruins that were by a river. It reminded her of the lake in the woods and the solitary cabin that her father used as a respite from the elements. A lake she and Peeta spoke about on those nights on the train where all they could do was hold each other.

Entranced, Peeta’s voice flooded her mind and her ears.

“One day you’ll take me to the lake; you’ll teach me to swim.”

She’d sang to him softly and the words began to spill from her lips. “Down in the Valley…”

Tears rolled down her face as she sang, “...see my true love go by…” She could see Peeta being shown around the Capitol like a caged animal in a zoo for the entertainment of Snow. As she sang, “...to the Capitol jail…” She hoped people would understand that they needed to send Snow a message. They were going for him. Her eyes were determined. When she finished the song, a Mockingjay flew down to stare up at her.

“Why’d you stop…” Cressida asked, as her eyes were wide.

Katniss began to sing The Hanging Tree. “Are you, are you coming to the tree…”

The Mockingjay began to whistle, emulating her sound and before anyone could say anything, a chorus of Mockingjays joined Katniss. Her voice was strong and determined. The Hanging Tree was a battle cry for the rebellion to rally together, just as the Valley song was a lover’s song meant for the ears of one man, to let him know she was waiting for him.

Part Six--

The Hanging Tree was chosen, packaged, and readied for the next day. Katniss watched the video of herself singing accompanied by the Mockingjays. People in the cafeteria stopped and watched as if her voice caused some sort of trance. Katniss couldn’t eat because the mission was only hours away.

From what she could glean from Boggs and Haymitch, the team for the dam was in place, and everything was scheduled with methodical precision. The evening meal was being served, some gruel with hard bread.

Katniss stared at the food on her tray. It was more food than what she’d been given before. Yet nothing was appetizing.

“You gonna eat?”

Haymitch sat down next to her.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’re worried about them?”

Haymitch always had the uncanny ability to know exactly she was thinking. In the Games, their silent understanding is what helped her navigate the cave.

“Come on,” Haymitch sighed. “You’re going to need a new home and you might as well go do that now while they’re flying toward the Capitol, waiting for the dam to collapse. The song is uniting the districts fighting. The footage of you pregnant singing the Valley song is going to be piped into the system like a virus. Even the kid there is sticking his middle finger up at Snow.”

Katniss smiled. “What if junior is really a she?”

“Well, I’m sure the boy will love them, no matter what.”

Haymitch’s words of kindness calmed her. He took her to three available quarters. As she looked at the rooms, she asked, “Why is Coin letting me choose?”

“Because you need something to keep your mind off of what was going on,” Haymitch stated simply.

Haymitch was right. Her mind was looping through all of the likely scenarios. A counter-attack against the rescue team. A counter-attack against District Thirteen. Snow kills Peeta before the team gets to him as a way to punish her. Katniss' hands became shaky, as she rubbed her belly, at the last thought. Surely Snow was not going to take this lying down.

“What do you think?” Haymitch asked when he showed her the first underground home Coin was offering them.

It was utilitarian, a far cry from the luxury of the home in the Victors Village with the sprawling space, useless, and unnecessary bells and whistles. It contained a bunk bed that folded from the wall. Panels where personal belongings were stored, and a small room with a shower, sink, and toilet.

There wasn’t enough space for two, much less three.

Katniss shook her head. They moved to the second identical space. It still didn't feel right. Katniss sighed. To be fair, she was dispassionate about choosing a home. She was too busy watching the clock. Time was mocking her. Cruelly reminding her that those engaged in war could lose their lives.

When they reached the floor that contained the octagonal unit where her mother and sister resided, Finnick came barreling down the hall. "The dam in District five is down. Nationwide outages are being felt and the shield around the Capitol is down."

He looked unhinged.

“They let you in command?”

“Beetee told me I was with him. He said the rescue team was in the city.”

"Finnick, take her to the last apartment. I'm going to command,” Haymitch said.

Finnick nodded. “I will.”

“Good,” Haymitch grunted before heading out.

Katniss wanted to go with Haymitch. However the idea of going to command to wait for news, and seeing the action unfold would be a stressful situation. If she were up there, she would cry, her hormones were a little haywire. She loathed crying, just this morning she cried because the rubber band snapped and she couldn’t snap her pants together.

“Are you okay?”

“Worried.”

“Remember,” Finnick said holding the rope in his hand. “Don’t fall apart.”

Katniss nodded as they took off down the hall. This last one was bigger; it had a separate room that would afford them more space for the baby. It was also octagonal in shape with a double reinforced glass that faced.

“I think this one looks like the one my sister and mom have with the narrow stripp of window of light.” And that small window is what she’s gravitated to. It was a piece of nature she needed.

Finnick poked around the space. “My place is tiny,” Finnick said, going to the bedroom section. “There are two bunks that can be converted to one. Or you can use the other room as the bedroom, because it has the bathroom.”

Katniss looked around and she could imagine Peeta holding her at night, calming her after a nightmare, or even holding their child. A little girl.

“I guess this one, it’s got more room then than my mothers.” Her eyes and voice contained the strain, the silence of not knowing. “My mother will be happy to know I’m out of her hair, but I’ll be close enough to Prim.”

“Good, let's get you packed up and moved over here.”

She didn’t have many belongings, but she did have found things. Things she’d found for Peeta. She’d found in supply closets and dark corners, paper, pencils, and some crayons. Peeta would need something to draw on. Things like the plant book, with pages he could use to draw in.

She had just finished bringing her meager belongings to the new living quarters when Haymitch ran into the room. “They’ve returned, they're back.”

All three rushed to the hanger.

There was a rush of movements. As soldiers, medics, and nurses ran from the inside of the hovercrafts.

“Stay here I’ll find the boy,” Haymitch said.

Katniss nodded. There were at least five hovercrafts parked being tended to, three of them contained the prisoners that were rescued. She saw Peeta’s prep-team being examined in a makeshift triage. She watched Johanna being carted out. Then a high pitched feminine voice calling.

“Finnick!”

Finnick’s face cleared of worry and filled with longing. “Annie,” he whispered.

Katniss watched him rush forward toward Annie. Finnick cupped Annie’s face and desperately placed solemn kisses on her lips. Annie wrapped her thin arms around his neck. Together they were whooshed away by a medical team.

Katniss wanted that with Peeta. Her eyes sought Peeta. She was filled with anticipation and longing. Soon she would be in his arms, and she hoped he would kiss her, a sweet welcoming kiss. Her mind wondered what Peeta would do at the sight of her, of her belly. Would he recognize her? She looked different, pregnancy

She stood in the chaos looking for Peeta when Haymitch came to her.

“He’s in the infirmary,” Haymitch said. Together they ran to the infirmary.

She ran past Gale who was being stitched up, he looked battered but Katniss didn’t care. “Peeta,” his name slipped from her lips.

A nurse said, “This way.”

“Peeta.” Pushing the doors open to see he’s there sitting on the examination table a shadow of his former self.

The staff are fluttering around him like moths attracted to the light.

He is in every dream and nightmare. In this moment, delirious to be bathed in his light, wanting to bask in it, after being underground so long without it, everything else seems trivial. Moving forward, tears are falling down without stopping. There are bruises, deep purple marks on the body of the boy with the bread. It confirms the nightmares, in which he is tortured and beaten because of who she was. “What have they done to you?”

Finally his blue eyes reach mine as if recognizing my presence for the first time. He reaches for me, his hands slip to my throat. Everything within me screams to pull back, but this is Peeta he would not hurt me. His hands tighten, I swallow and there is a pause in the room in that slight instant no one knows what to do.

“Peeta, you’re alive.”

His blue eyes move from my throat to stare at me. His eyes are like black pools and they gradually turn blue. “Katniss?”

His voice is helpless as if he is lost. “Stay with me.”

“Always,” Peeta said. Then he turned to Haymitch. “We’ve got to get ready, Snow’s going to bomb us.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, tell them.”

Haymitch turned to Bogg’s who was in the room, watching Peeta wearily. “I’ll warn Coin.”

No sooner than Boggs left did Peeta turn to her. He leaned in to kiss her, and Katniss leaned toward him. When the alarm sounded.

“We have to get you to safety,” a nurse said.

“Prim and my mom,” Katniss said.

“Both of you go to the shelter, I’ll get your family.”

They were led deep into the bowls of the district thirteen. As they reached the entrance the ground beneath them shook. Katniss was thrown, and even though Peeta was thin he caught her and the strain of the day finally caught up to her and she descended into black.

She floated on a sea of voices and heat and semi darkness. A voice sounded like a beacon and she slowly surfaced.

“Katniss.”

“Mmm…”

“Katniss,” the voice was gentle.

Opening her eyes a blurry face filled her vision. The first thing she saw were familiar blue warm eyes, “Peeta?”

His face took form.

“Hey,” the concern in his voice and the gentle press over her stomach. He gently rubbed her belly. He gently looked down and placed a kiss there before stating. “Soooo, anything you want to tell me?”

Katniss looped her arms around his neck. “Peeta.”

He let her hold him, let her feel the steady presence of his arms. “Has the bombing stopped?”

“No,” he whispered.

She noted his gray uniform. “Welcome to District Thirteen.”

“I don’t trust Coin.”

“Neither do I,” Katniss whispered.

“I heard about your little contract. She expects us to make an announcement.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll do what’s expected, as long as we’re safe.”

He allowed her to quietly absorb his message. They were a team and this was another game, not just a war. When the bombing stopped and they were asked to walk out, Peeta astutely asked for a maternity gown for Katniss to be sought.

Katniss sighed. “Together?”

“Together.”

The images of Peeta holding her and letting the Capitol know and the districts that they were united and that they would keep on fighting for the future. The one Katniss carried within her.

Peeta sounded resolute and she knew their dynamics were about to change. Peeta made his appearances the tide of the war changed. All the time Katniss watched as Peeta with his clever words began to manifest distrust with Coin amongst her rank. When the capitol was breached in her ninth month Prim stayed behind. Their mother left to attend to the casualties. She died in the bombing, something Peeta pointed out as the bombs designed in Beetee’s lab alongside Gale.

Snow was executed and so was Coin.

Katniss went into labor as the elections took place and under the free’d government Melody Mellark gave her first cries.

One month after that Peeta was surprised to find out his father and his brother Rye had escaped and were living in the woods of District Twelve. Haymitch stayed in the Capitol to help Paylor set up the new government before returning with Effie.

They all settled in their Victors Village. Rye and his Father took her old home as Prim couldn’t stomach their old home. Katniss, Peeta, Mellody and Prim settled in Peeta’s home. Rye and his father became grinning fools for Melody. And as time ticked away Katniss and Peeta grew as did their family.

They were in the Meadow, their daughter and toddler son were running. Rye was chasing them. Prim was arguing with Haymitch over his refusal to have a toasting with Effie.

“Finnick is coming next week with little Finn.”

Katniss smiled.

Peeta’s hands rubbed her stomach. “Really.”

“Yeah.”

She could hear the disapproving tone in his voice. “Stop acting grumpy. Melody and Finn are friends.”

“Sing me the Valley Song,” he whispered.

“The Valley song?” Katniss hadn’t sung that song in years.

“I heard it pumping through the PA system before we were rescued. I knew it wouldn’t be long before, I was going to see you again.”

They hadn’t spoken of that day. “I sang it, because I knew, it would let you know that I hadn’t forgotten about you, us.” Her hands slipped on top of his.

“Sing it,” he insisted.

Katniss began signing and as she finished she sang the last words, “Birds in the heavens know I love you…”

And as Peeta leaned in to kiss her, the Mockingjays sang the tune, letting the world know that Katniss loved Peeta.

THE END

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #fan fic #by mega-aulover

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everlarkbirthdaygifts · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday, booksandeverlark!

Our sincerest apologies for the delay on your gift, @booksandeverlark! We hope your birthday back on October 22nd was a wonderful one, and that you got exactly the presents you were hoping for. To bring your party feels back around, the lovely @mega-aulover has written a monster of a fic just for you!

RATED E - For sexual situations and trigger warnings for manhandling and mild violence. Some Hunger Characters are off Cannon for the purpose of the story.

a/n Peeta Mellark is one of the worlds most recognizable stars, and he needs a break. He goes missing and is hiding in plain sight because he has fallen for Katniss Everdeen who is raising a tween Prim. Everything goes according to plan until one day Hollywood comes a’callin

- special thanks to @norbertsmom who beta’d this monster of a story. 20K sorry to Booksandeverlark for the lateness of the story I hope you had a belated birthday.

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

Pete Holly Golightly

-THE JUNKET

“Where the hell is the kid?” Haymitch growled.

“He’s in his bedroom,” his red-haired assistant said, popping her gum not even looking up from her phone.

Haymitch opened the door, and saw red. He took his phone and called the kid, and the phone began ringing. There was a buzzing sound coming from behind the ensuite bathroom. The younger generation never went anywhere without their phones. The kid was no exception.

“Kid,” Haymitch marched into the room and banged on the door.

He had a bone to pick with the kid. The junket was a roller coaster. The kid was barely coherent during the second half of the interviews. His co-stars did the heavy lifting. Haymitch did everything in his power to get the kid in this movie, and he was brilliant, an Oscar worthy performance, but now the kid was burnt out.

The phone began buzzing again.

“Come on Peeta. I know you’re in there I can hear the phone buzzing.”

It was silent on the opposite side of the bathroom door.

“Kid,” Haymitch said once more. Peeta was one of the most responsible people. Today was so out of character for him. Yet again, the pressure by the press lately made the kid feel like a guppy in a bowl full of piranhas.

A few weeks ago, some not-so-distinguished members of the press broke into the kid’s home. Peeta’s privacy was smashed when he found out it was his own mother who gave the pap’s the key to his house for a cool $100K. Ever since then the kid changed.

Haymitch was worried. The pressure was getting to Peeta. He was no longer having fun. His smiles never reached his eyes anymore. Haymitch was just about the only one who could tell when Peeta became Peet-the-movie-star. No one could distinguish the polished, charming, and funny persona from the genuine affable, fiercely loyal, kind kid Peeta was at the core of his being.

After the press junket was over the kid gave him the slip. Normally they talked about the next project or movie. Opening the door, Haymitch cursed when he saw the kids’ phone on the bathroom counter with a note next to it.

“Haymitch, I’m just exhausted. I need a break. I promise I’ll be at the world premiere of the movie - Holly Golightly.”

Haymitch crushed the note in his hand. He laughed bitterly at the code name the kid gave himself whenever he checked into a hotel. The kid loved the movie Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

Thankfully, this was the last appearance Peeta had to make before the movie premier in less than a week. But a week later, when Peeta didn’t make it to his movie premiere, the entire industry went up in arms.

Peeta's disappearance was the talk of the town. Even three weeks later the fury hadn’t died down. Every paparazzi fueled by the promise of the mini fortune for the first picture of Peeta Mellark was now hunting down the kid. The good boy gone missing had every tabloid spinning articles and fake sightings. Peeta had gone into the Elvis Presley stratosphere of speculation. Everything from aliens, to he became a monk. One thing for certain, the pap’s were seeking Peeta like a struggling dieter seeking a rich German chocolate cake.

-THE SEARCH

“You got any proof you saw Peeta Mellark?” Claudius questioned Judy Morphling.

“You got the cash?” the thin girl with the dark circles under her eyes asked.

Claudius showed Judy the white envelope filled with a couple of hundred-dollar-bills. She was a junkie. And he took advantage of her broke status to make a quick buck to fix her addiction. Claudius slipped the envelope back into his pocket. He wasn't fooled by kids like these.

He’d spent the past four weeks hunting down dead ends. People willing to sell their left arm for money. True, there were other pursuits where he scored a couple of thousand. The hottest going ticket in tinsel town was finding the whereabouts of Hollywood's golden good boy Peeta Mellark. The movie he was in had gone to number one for the past four weeks. It was driven by the mystery of his disappearance, and the phenomenal acting performance in the movie about race. It was a true story, a love story about a man who moved heaven and earth for the love of his life, a freed slave.

“Okay,” she said.

“Now the proof,” Caludius demanded.

He was familiar with his informant's story, all too well. Judy won a popular game show when she was in college. She became an instant national sweetheart. During her 15 minute of fame, she was invited to every single hot Hollywood party. Subsequently, she got hooked on alcohol and drugs. One of the bellhops tipped him off that she was in the hotel where Peeta was having the junket and that she had seen him the day he disappeared.

She looked side to side nervously reaching into her pocket to whip out her phone. "Here."

With detached indifference he looked at the picture. It was hard to tell, the guy had on a baseball cap and sunglasses. Claudius swiped the screen and saw that trademark chiseled chin his ex fawned over. It was him. Still, knowing the kid had walked out of the junket didn’t help him. He wasn’t ready to part with his money for just any reason. “This could be anyone,” he said.

Judy lifted an eyebrow. “A friend of mine that works at a gas station said he also saw him.”

Claudius took a step back. “Sorry Judy. I need real proof.”

“I just need something to tide me over...please...look I have a friend... my friend’s name is Morph.”

“Morph like in the TV show?”

“His mom was a big into 1970’s reruns.” She shrugged, though the light trembling in her lips let Caludius know she was desperate.

“Okay look.” He took out a twenty and showed it to her. Her eyes went wide as she stared at the money. “Give me this guys information. If it proves to be fruitful, I’ll pay you what you asked for.”

“Okay,” she held out her hand. “I’ll text you his information.”

His phone buzzed. He looked down at the information. “That’s out of State?”

“Yeah.” Her eyes were on the money.

“You say he works at a gas station?” Claudius enjoyed taunting his informants. He waved the cash, like a cat and mouse game.

“Near the border.”

Claudius withdrew the folded bill. He needed assurances that she wasn’t just talking to get the money and not coming through with information vital to him. The payout for finding Mellark was nearly 200K. Judy licked her lips as her eyes followed the money reaching out with her hand.

“I’ll text Morph to give you an exclusive.”

“Text him now.”

“Okay, okay.” Judy’s fingers moved quickly over the screen of her phone. She even included him in the group chat. When the reply came back as “no problem”, Claudius was satisfied.

“Here ya go,” Claudius said, giving her the twenty bucks. He walked away; he needed to make the trip to Peeta Mellark’s last known position. He hummed as he got into his car, thrilled for the chase.

-LIVING WITH THE ENEMY

Gale Hawthorne glowered from underneath the tree in his backyard as District Twelve’s newest resident, that blond painter Pete Golightly, made a move on Katniss Everdeen. He was supposed to be taking out the trash when he saw them by the curbside.

They stood so close in the dark that she was swallowed up by the guy's physique. But they weren’t touching, and although that was a relief, he wasn’t going to leave anything to chance.

He liked Katniss. No, that was an understatement. He more than liked her, he could see that there was a potential between them. She was smart, he wouldn’t call her pretty, hell she never smiled. But she made sense to him, she was practical, determined, efficient, loyal, punctual, and some much more. Katniss never looked at him like a piece of man meat. A lot of girls looked at him that way.

Frankly it was great, but sometimes, Gale sighed, sometimes he wanted to have an honest conversation with a girl. With Katniss he could, he’d talk, sure she didn’t say much, but she listened and that’s what he wanted. He held a candle for her so long that watching her with the new guy made him grow tense. He wanted to punch a wall.

The nerve in his temple drummed making his headache even worse.

Rubbing his temple he wondered what the hell a guy like Golightly had that made Katniss, and for that matter, every single woman within a fifty mile radius act like a cat in heat. Even his own mother talked about how handsome the painter was. And of all of the available girls, the douche chose Katniss to hang around.

The peal of girlish laughter reached his ears. Gale walked closer, using the darkness to hide himself. He wanted to hear what they were saying. He crouched by her car. From this position he could see them. Pete dipped his head low near hers. Gale knew that hovering move, it was a move he used to get close enough to kiss a girl.

Gale furled his fist. He watched Katniss reach up and smooth Pete’s golden locks away from his face.

Katniss didn’t do that. She didn’t touch people, hell she didn’t like to be touched. He recalled how she recoiled when he tried to touch her. She did the same thing at Greasy Sea's whenever someone touched her by accident. Gale loved it when she scowled at them.

Then she leaned up on tiptoe.

“No, no, no,” Gale ground out. He then stood agog as Katniss lifted her head up to kiss Pete Golightly.

It wasn’t a long kiss. It was really a peck, but Gale could see that both parties enjoyed the kiss. Her hand was perched on his chest and his hand covered it while the other one cupped her chin. This guy was a smooth operator. Gale’s head pounded as he saw red.

Pete separated from Katniss and gave her a soft kiss on the forehead before he walked away to his car. Once he pulled out, Gale stood to his full height.

“I thought you didn’t have time for that.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. He stomped over to her, his fists curling and uncurling. He was trying to keep his calm.

Katniss turned around and gasped her eyes wide and silvery in the moonlight. “What the hell are you doing, Gale?”

She had the look of a girl who was properly kissed and that drove Gale insane. “You chose that pasty faced wimp?”

Her face transformed into that steely scowl of hers. She walked around him.

Gale followed. “I’m talking to you.”

She ignored him as she moved forward.

When she reached the front door of the garage apartment she rented from his mother, he turned her around, leaning down toward her. “What, you don’t have anything to say?”

Katniss looked up at him and narrowed her eyes. “It’s none of your damned business.”

Gale was going to say something to her when she opened the door to the apartment and quicker than a fox stealing eggs from a henhouse she slipped inside and shut the door in his face.

Gale pounded on the side of the door. This wasn’t over.

-80’s QUEEN

“Prim,” Katniss hollered through the bathroom door of the small studio apartment.

The apartment was basically a portion of Hazel Hawthorn's garage. There was no privacy except for the small airplane sized bathroom. She jiggled the bathroom doorknob. Prim was going to be late for the bus.

“Katniss!” Prim screeched from the other side.

She rolled her eyes at her baby sister's dramatic response. “You’re going to be late for school.”

The door opened and Prim stood there pouting, her blond hair a riot. Katniss did not dare gasp. Prim was a tween and Katniss knew how vicious kids could be at school. Instead she sighed, “Okay, what can I do to help?”

“It’s 80’s day at school today and I need to look like that,” Prim pointed to the picture on her phone of Christie Brinkley.

“We’re going to need a lot of hairspray and a brush,” Katniss rolled up the sleeves of her shirt.

“But I’m going to be late to school!” Prim cried.

Prim was twelve and at this age everything was a crisis. Katniss wasn’t as dramatic as Prim at that age, though she was moody. “Hey, I’ll give you a ride into school. It will be alright,” Katniss smiled over Prim’s head, their reflected images showed a united front. They were as different as night and day, but both girls had their dad’s smile and their mom’s button nose.

"Thanks Katniss," Prim said in a small voice. She was almost a teenager, but still very much a little girl.

"Okay, let's rock this." Hair and makeup wasn’t her strong suit but Katniss had a crash course having to take guardianship of her baby sister at the age of eighteen. When their parents died, Katniss fought tooth and nail for her sister. She didn’t want Prim to go into the foster care system. She elected not to go to college and found a job. She sold their parents’ house, paid off the debts and made a home for herself and her then 10-year-old sister.

It was a rough learning curve, but somehow Katniss made it work.

Taking a brush, she quickly brushed and smoothed her sister's hair. She took a portion of Prim's beautiful wavy blond hair and put it in a side ponytail. The rest of her hair Katniss curled and teased into perfect 80's puffiness. Combined with her ripped jeans and oversized sweatshirt she borrowed, Prim was perfect to go back in time.

They were rushing out of the house. Katniss started her beat up Camry and began to make her way down the mountain. The mountains of Panem’s District Twelve were a beautiful blue grey. A lot of the residents lived in the high hills because they were cooler than the valley below. It was private and no one got a house in the hills unless it was passed down by family inheritance or in her case, a rental by a friend of the family. The school was a good half-hour away from the entrance of the steep hill, but as they drove, the car began to shake as they made their way down a steep incline.

Her palms were sweaty as she frantically pressed on the brakes as they made their way down to a small plateau. She pulled the heaving, trembling Camry to the side of the road.

“No, no, no,” she uttered as it began to smoke. Katniss sighed and hoped that it wasn’t something costly. “I’m going to take a look.” She popped the hood. Getting out, she went to the hood and released the latch. She jumped back as a waft of billowy hot plume of smoke wafted from the engine.

“Dagnabit,” Katniss muttered.

“Is it fixable?” Prim asked out of the window.

She grimaced before she looked toward where her sister sat in the car, at this rate Prim was never getting to school. Her knowledge on cars was limited. She knew how to change the oil, change a tire, and do the necessary upkeep for a car. However, it was the more complicated stuff like identifying which of the hoses that broke causing her car to overheat, was out of her scope. That would mean she’d have to deal with Gale, a mechanic by trade.

Gale was obsessive about her, something that Katniss hated. They were once friends until Gale stopped looking at her as a friend, but something to be possessed. He didn’t acknowledge they were too alike, in temperament and personalities. To Katniss it didn’t matter Greasy Sae said Gale was sex on a stick, she just didn’t like him like that.

Her appetite for men ran in a different direction. Sighing, she gave the car a bewildered look. The odds were not on her side.

“Katniss, I'm going to miss school,” Prim said desperately from the window of the passenger seat.

Katniss felt bad. These were the times she felt guilty for not being a better sister / guardian to her sister. Prim was a good kid and deserved better. Looking down at her watch, time was running out. Squaring her shoulders Katniss vowed she was going to get her sister to school. “Come on,” Katniss said, reaching down and grabbing Prim’s knapsack. “We’ll be late, but we can walk to school.”

“We can call Pete,” Prim said quietly.

Katniss couldn’t help the flush that crept up to her cheeks at the mention of their new hunky neighbor. Those darned butterflies began whizzing around her stomach. Katniss wanted to hush them or at least put them on a leash whenever Pete was around.

Pete lived on the mountain with them. He was quiet, and he and her sister got along like chicken wings and buffalo sauce. Pete was the different her appetite was hungry for. Her mind replayed the soul stirring kiss they shared. They said a kiss was a window into a person’s heart, and if that kiss was an indication of what was in Peeta’s heart it was a three alarm fire that burned for her.

However, the kiss was something she wasn’t going to share with her twelve-year-old sister. Hell, that wasn’t something she wanted to even think about. “Prim.”

“Katniss,” her sister’s eyes glittered with mischief. The little imp knew what she was doing.

“I don’t need a man to come rescue us. We can walk to the school.”

“I know we don’t need a man, but we’re not even halfway down the mountain and I’m more than half-an-hour away from school. Pete is about two minutes away.”

Her sister’s logic was infallible, and Katniss knew it, but loathed to admit. “Fine, call Pete.”

-INCOGNITO

Peeta drove exactly three minutes from his home to see the old dark Camry with the hazard lights on. His gut clenched when he saw the petite fiery woman with the olive skin tone, eyes the color of a raging storm, and cute pert nose. They were seeing each other, not in an official I’m dating you way, but definitely in the, there was something going on between them.

Peeta was used to women fawning all over him. Not Katniss, and he’d fallen for her harder than a sledgehammer hitting concrete. They’d kissed last night. Not a gentle peck on the lips, but the type of kiss that proved the earth was round, because your world shifted on its access. One moment you were standing on the floor and the next you were standing on the ceiling.

He’d been a star since the age of six months. A casting agent walked into his parents’ failing bakery and spotted him sitting in a high chair. The agent convinced his father to put him up for one of those national baby advertisements. Yet none of the accolades he received compared to winning a small smile from the woman standing on the side of the road.

“Hi,” Katniss said pushing her long rope of braided raven hair over her shoulder.

“Hi,” Peeta said, climbing out of his truck.

“Hi Pete,” Prim greeted, her eyes alight with joy.

“Hey, little duck.” Katniss' sister Primrose was as infectious as sunshine after a rainy day. She was the one person Peeta was sure Katniss would put her life down for. He had never seen that type of devotion and love before. In the industry he was in there wasn’t much room for any sort of relationship. Everything was colored by money.

His own mother was the poster girl for how money corrupts absolutely. When that casting agent walked into the family’s failing bakery his mother doubted he would get casted; she often said he was an ugly baby. His mother was wrong. Peeta won the contest. His round little face with his priceless blue eyes was soon appearing on every jar, can, and package of that brand of baby product. His mother got bit by the show biz bug, or rather the money that he made from it. She became his manager, and without anyone’s knowledge, took money from Peeta. As he became older and less easy to control his mother became abusive.

Peeta longed for a normal semblance of life. Despite not having two pennies to rub together, Katniss was raising Prim on her own and she was doing it all right. Not once did he hear Katniss lose her temper with her baby sister.

“Hi,” Katniss waved back, her face a deep shade of purple. She slipped her hands into the pocket of her pink diner waitress uniform Greasy Sae made Katniss wear. Her white sneakers shuffled back and forth.

Peeta got out and slipped his sunglasses off. He opened the cab door and held it for Prim and Katniss.

Katniss rolled her eyes at him.

They had this discussion before, about how he didn’t have to hold the door open for her. Peeta knew Katniss was more than capable of opening her own doors, but he was a romantic. He believed in Arthur and the Round Table and a knight’s code. His friend Finnick often told him he was born in the wrong era. He stood up when a lady walked into a room, held doors open, and walked little old ladies across the street.

“Seat belt,” Katniss reminded Prim who already had her earbuds in.

“K,” Prim replied.

“Oh, your lunch,” Katniss said, taking out a brown paper bag littered with glittery stickers from her brown leather messenger bag.

“Katniss, pink panda bears?” Prim huffed.

“I thought you liked them?”

“I do, but these stickers scream six-year-old kid.”

“Okay next time I’ll do a plain brown bag.” Katniss put on her seat belt.

Peeta caught the way Prim’s fingers went over the stickers with awe and reverence. Once more he couldn’t help loving the way the sisters were a unit.

For the whole of his life Peeta longed to be accepted and loved by his family. His older brothers were self-involved and didn’t give a flying fig newton about him; he was just their meal ticket. His mother was abusive and money hungry. His father was a simple man who couldn’t stand up to his wife.

His dad failed to protect Peeta.

The lesson he learned growing up was that no one needed him. They needed his bank. That last stunt was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Peeta needed a way out and he found a way. His friend, mega star, Finnick Odair helped him get it. Starting over was worth breaking a few rules. He made a few withdrawals, put it in a new bank account and when the time was right, he left.

The trek to the small country of Panem that sat between the Canadian border and the United States border took less than 19 hours including a 90-minute ferry. Panem was a small island, with little islands scattered around it. District twelve was the smallest of the islands and had the smallest community. He chose this small island because it was so far removed from everything that reminded him of Hollywood.

He could have continued travelling but stopped when he met Prim and subsequently her older sister, Katniss. Peeta stayed far longer than what he wanted to because he was fascinated by Katniss.

Once they were on the road, Katniss kept on sneaking looks at him. It was when he caught her gaze going down to his mouth that he knew he was in danger, by the way he stiffened in his jeans. He looked back at Primrose in the seat and the pressing problem in his jeans shriveled.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Katniss said, clearing her throat. She picked up her phone and called the school and her husky voice on the phone made him uncomfortable once more.

Peeta told himself to keep himself in check. Peeta wasn’t a lady’s man, but that didn’t mean he was a saint. However, he was the type who liked to be in a relationship. In his opinion, the best sex was had when he was emotionally connected with someone. When it was used just to blow off steam or to scratch an itch, he found it empty and meaningless, so he stayed clear of women who only promised that sort interaction. By Hollywood standards, he was a virgin. Compared to him, Katniss was a unicorn.

He respected her and if she knew his thoughts she’d no doubt shoot him through the eye with her bow. To be fair, he was terrified of Katniss, especially when she was in what he called the ‘Hunter Mode.’ Her scowl combined with her glittering silver eyes promised pain and certain death to whomever was in her crossfire.

There were two things he learned not to mess with, one her sister Primrose, and the other was her personal business. Katniss was an extremely private person. Peeta sighed as they sped toward Prim’s school.

“Prim,” Katniss said. “I let the school know we’re on our way.”

“What about Greasy Sae?” Peeta asked.

“Greasy was the first person I called while Prim called you.”

They approached the school and there were a few stragglers, parents rushing to get their kids into the school building. Katniss jumped out of the car.

“Katniss, I'm not a baby. I can make it into school by myself,” Prim whined.

“Prim I have to sign you in, and that will continue straight up through high school.” Katniss' matter of fact tone of voice let Prim know this wasn’t the time for a pre-teen hissy fit.

“Fine,” Prim said quietly.

Peeta grinned. “I’ll wait here while you get her sorted.”

Katniss nodded, a look flitted through her eyes. She had been avoiding him, and in a way he had been avoiding her as well. He knew the kiss was a dangerous thing and with everyday he stayed put, there was a chance he could be discovered.

He pulled his hat lower and slipped on his sunglasses. Even though he’d let his natural blond hair grow out, there was a chance people would recognize him, his eyes were legendary. The only thing he was grateful for was that his mother despised his blond locks.

To the public at large, he had brown hair. For the majority of his career Peeta dyed his hair and eyebrows. He purposefully didn’t take movies where he had to be a blond. After his parents’ stunt, he had begun to let it grow out. Cinna, his stylist, helped him wear a wig whenever he needed to make a public appearance.

It was easy to slip on some glasses and walk out of the hotel. About halfway through the interviews Peeta had his double sneak in, so that he could escape. No one could make out the difference, well no one but Haymitch.

Peeta felt guilty for duping his manager and mentor. The wrap on the window pulled him out of his thoughts. Katniss stood on the other side, her eyes were staring at his hands. He didn’t realize the white-knuckle grip he had on the steering wheel. He felt the blush creeping up the side of his neck. Leaning over he quickly jumped out and opened the truck door for her.

“Pete,” Katniss mumbled under her breath.

“You’ve got your quirks, and this is one of mine.” He could see the beginning of a small smile on Katniss face and that right there was the reason he kept on coming back to see her. When she smiled it was better than Christmas, better than fresh baked cookies, and better than a greasy bacon double cheeseburger after a night out knocking back beers with Finnick.

He got into the car and drove out of the school parking lot.

“Look,” Katniss grimaced.

Peeta sucked in a breath. Here it came, the excuses passed off as rationalizations. Peeta dreaded the speeches that ranged from it was a mistake, we should forget that it happened, and his least favorite, it’s not you it’s me, I’m sorry I’m just not that into you.

“I don’t do that,” Katniss said. Her eyes were focused on her hands.

Peeta sat back waiting patiently for Katniss to continue.

Her cheeks were tinged with a warm red color. She wrinkled her nose and bit her bottom lip, all signs of her nervousness. Peeta found it endearing.

“I don’t go around.” Her leg began shaking now. “...kissing, I don’t go around kissing...”

“I know.” He put his hand next to hers, but didn’t touch her. Yet, the nearness of their hands caused butterflies to make an appearance in his stomach. The connection between the two of them was electric. He hoped she felt the same way. He saw her look turn from trepidatious to one of suspicion. He cleared his throat. “What I mean is you take care of your sister. She’s your whole life. You don’t have time for romantic entanglements.”

Her eyes opened.

“You have to worry about putting food on the table, a roof over your heads, plus everything that comes with raising a tween.” They came to a stop at a stoplight.

She blinked.

Peeta opened his mouth and shut it. He sighed and nodded; her actions proved refutably, his words were wrong. He didn’t hear her moving across the cabin, or the way her hands braced his face before she kissed him.

Peeta’s heart exploded like a redstone rocket leaving the mission pad into the atmosphere. Her lips were warm and supple, and they tasted of ginger and mint. His hands gently cupped hers.

Katniss pulled away. Her lips plump, her eyes were a dark stormy gray, from their kiss. She smiled at him shyly. “Thank you.”

“I think I should be thanking you.” The light turned green and he began driving. He couldn't hide the ear to ear grin.

Katniss raised an eyebrow and gave him a chaste kiss. “I like you Pete Golightly.”

Hearing his fake name sat like sour milk in his stomach. Peeta wanted to come clean to Katniss but didn’t know how. Katniss wasn’t anyone who trusted people easily, and she let him get close. He felt guilty for not being honest with her. But he held onto the idea that he was going to be leaving soon. He also told himself that the less people knew about his secret the easier it was for him to be able stay incognito.

He gently let go of her hands and he missed her touch when she pulled away. “I like you too, Katniss Everdeen.”

“You want to come overnight,” Katniss asked.

“As long as you let me make you and Prim dinner.”

She looked indecisive.

“Look, you’re going to be late picking up Prim tonight, and when you get to the apartment you’re going to focus on Prim and her homework while making dinner. Since today is Wednesday you do the laundry.”

Wednesday is the most dratted day...it runs a close second to Sunday night. Katniss hated laundry. She hated the separating, the folding, the waiting well just about everything except for the smell of the fabric softener. She said it reminded her of a spring meadow on a warm day.

“Okay,” she said. Laughter bubbling up from her lips. “How do you know me so well?”

Peeta winked slowly. “I always take notice when you’re in the room Katniss.” He enjoyed the blush that blossomed on her cheeks.

-THE CHASE

Less than two days later Claudius unfolded himself from his car. He pulled into the gas station near the border of Canada and Panem to fill up his tank.

A young family got out of the rest stop right next to him. The girls got out and were talking about Peeta. There was a billboard of the movie hanging right in front of them. Claudius followed them inside, he went to join the line, he had cash to pay for the gasoline. The girls queued up behind him.

“He’s so cute,” the young girl said, pointing to the tabloid with the picture of Peeta Mellark. The headline read he was taken by aliens.

Claudius glanced behind him, and estimated the girl must have been sixteen.

The other one who looked to be fourteen said, “He’s so yummy. Too bad mommy wont let us see his movie.”

“I know,” the sixteen year-old grumbled.

“Do you think his parents had something to do with his disappearance?”

“I don’t know,” the older sister said.

Claudius reached the front of the line and paid forty for gas. He walked outside into the sunlight. It had been a long ride from the junket to this small town. He had to stop halfway there and rent a hotel room for the night. After a complimentary stale pastry and tepid tea for breakfast, he was back out on the road. He was finally just outside the small town.

He walked toward his car and began to pump gas. The girls came out of the small convenience store and sat down in the small shaded picnic area next to the gas stop.

A young boy about their age walked by them and they were giggling and laughing.

“Girls,” their mother called out. “We’re leaving.”

“Okay mom,” the girls yelled out in unison. As they stood up from the shaded area. They looked up at the billboard. And continued to speak about Peeta Mellrak.

Claudius smirked at the girl's conversation. The actions of the young star were a mystery to Claudius and to the entire world.

Why leave all of the money and power behind, Claudius wondered? That question is what drew him to the story, he’d discovered. The kid was clean, didn’t do drugs, didn’t drink, he wasn’t broke. The kid had millions in the bank.

In his last movie, Peeta, was involved in the producing, directing, and script writing. The success of the movie had everyone clamorning to work with him. The kid was on the cusp, he had the ability to make more money and have the kind of power to make his own movies. They billed him as the next Ron Howard. Why would the kid throw all of that way? No one was that crazy. Claudius knew of one person who left it all behind at the height of their career, Dolores Hart. Dolores starred opposite Elvis Presley, and some of Hollywood's top male actors of the time. She left Hollywood to become a nun.

Claudius wondered if Mrs. Mellark had anything to do with Peeta Mellark’s Agatha Christie stunt. The Mellarks were a mess. The kind that were a paparazzi present wrapped up tightly with bright ribbon under the Christmas tree. His older brothers were sleeze balls. His oldest brother was in hot water for making several statements that were deeply offensive to a number of people. The middle Mellark was a mainstay in Vegas. He was a gambler and rumored to have connections with the mafia. He was seen with the daughter of notorious mobster Seneca Crane.

His mother, she was a joy, a really Betty Croker, complete with shark teeth. The woman sold her son’s privacy for 100 grand. The reporters entered his house and took detailed pictures of his home. The best was his color coordinated underwear draw. Everyone knew he was a boxer brief guy. His father was a patsy, with the personality of a limp wet towel.

Claudius wondered if they were the reason he left Hollywood? But then again, Peeta had nothing to do with his family. They lived separate lives. Peeta didn’t even have pictures of his family in his house. Only gorgeous paintings that were discovered to have been painted by Peeta himself. If his family was the reason, it didn’t matter to Claudius. He wanted to be the first to find Peeta Mellark.

It’s why he was in the border town looking for Judy’s friend Morph.

-NIGHT IN

Katniss watched Peeta with her sister. Her heart raced a thousand miles an hour, a common occurrence whenever he was around. He was washing the dishes with her sister as she folded laundry.

Prim introduced them, and Katniss hadn’t wanted to be his friend. She didn’t want to be with anyone. She had to raise Prim. Her sister took the priority in her life and few people understood the pressure that came with being so young and raising a child. She was still only twenty, and they were visited by a fastidious case worker Effie Trinket whose sharp eyes never missed a thing. If there was speck of dust on a lampshade Miss Trinket would spot it.

It’s why she stayed away from men. They complicated her simple drive to protect and provide for her sister. Pete however never imposed his person on hers. He never demanded that she pay attention to him. Instead he slowly and politely became her friend. She hadn’t wanted to face him after the kiss, but after fate brought them together, and she spoke to him in the car she couldn’t help but kiss him again.

That second kiss caused Katniss to realize maybe she was ready for more with Pete. He was kind, gentle, intelligent, witty, funny, and sexy. The last word caused her to blush, because she chose that moment to stare at him. As if sensing her stare, he looked up and his eyes darkened. His gaze dropped down to her lips before they moved up once again.

He was thinking of their kiss and Katniss squirmed in her seat.

Prim said something funny and he laughed.

“That’s just as bad as Gale making a pass at my sister.”

“No way?” Pete said gazing at Katniss.

He was curious about Gale. Katniss told him she didn’t have any romantic feelings about Gale.

“Way,” Prim said. “Gale thinks Katniss should date him because he’s so,” she said holding up her fingers in the air to make quotations. “...great.”

Pete didn’t say anything.

“They were friends and then my parents died. Gale expected my sister to fall at his feet. He kept on coming to the house to try to help, to make it known Katniss was his girl.” Prim’s face soured like that time she drank bad milk.

They never spoke about that time after their parents died. Katniss preferred to move forward.

“After the funeral he tried to make his move.”

“After the funeral, you mean the day you were…”

Katniss stopped folding the clothing. She had no idea Prim had overheard. She thought her sister was in their old home.

“Can you believe it!” Prim shook her head. “I was in the tree house hiding. I saw him grab my sister by the shoulder and try to kiss her, but Katniss pushed him away. She told him she wouldn’t have time for him, because she needed to petition the courts for me. Gale told her that raising me was a mistake. My sister kicked him in the nuts.”

“Did she?” Pete asked, his eyebrow quirked. Katniss could see his admiration, not for kicking Gale in the nuts as Prim said, but for sticking to her guns to take care of her sister.

Prim giggled, “He never saw it coming.”

“So how did you guys end up living in their garage?”

“Katniss had to sell our house to pay for the bills and for the lawyers and court fees.”

Katniss stood up and sighed. “Gale’s mother is the real estate agent that helped me sell our house. She offered the garage as a way for her to make extra money after her divorce from Gale’s dad.” Katniss shrugged, “She needed the extra income, and I needed a place to live. It was a mutual agreement.”

"Katniss worked really hard to make the garage homey."

Katniss watched Pete look around the apartment as if he’d never really taken a good look. His focus was always on Prim or herself. To be fair he wasn’t someone who took notice of the disparity they lived in. Gale constantly offered to fix things for her, including her person. It was like that perfect backhanded compliment. You look nice in a dress, you should wear one more often, or the one that always made her see red. Your face is pretty when you smile and wear makeup.

Katniss wanted to hurt Gale every single time he said something stupid and asinine.

Gale’s harsh words didn’t extend only to her person, they also extended to the apartment. Gale made her feel insecure about her flea bargain finds, dollar store buys, and hand-me-down furniture. He thought the colors dull, and her paint job was poor, but never offered to help paint.

Katniss could see all of the gaff’s she made painting. Katniss decorated their small home with calm earth tones, wanting it to convey peacefulness, warmth and be inviting. When they moved here Prim was ten and Katniss wanted to make sure her sister felt like everything was going to be alright.

The studio was small with a loft. Katniss gave her sister the loft so that she could have privacy. Prim was growing up and Katniss understood the need for space. Katniss went through those awkward years with their parents, their door was always open. It’s why she made a bedroom for herself in the nook below the loft. Katniss used shutters for a wall near the entrance and creatively used a tension rod between two bookshelves to make an entry to her makeshift bedroom.

Yet in Pete’s warm blue eyes she saw what could be considered admiration.

“You are amazing,” Pete said simply.

Katniss could feel the onslaught of warmth that rushed from her heart to her cheeks, because unlike Gale’s thinly veiled insults which hailed from a vain superficial perspective. Gale could only see beyond his own needs whereas Pete's hailed from deep within.

“Yes she is and she needs someone just as amazing,” Prim piped up, and Katniss was mortified. What came out of Prim’s mouth next however made Katniss want to bury her head in the sand. “Someone like you, Pete!”

Katniss thought she wanted to strangle her sister, but her feet were rooted to the floor. She glanced up and found herself staring at Pete’s lips. She wanted to be alone with him and kiss him once more but she couldn’t do anything in front of her sister.

“Prim I think you sister is more than capable of making her own decisions about who she wants to date.”

Pete’s words were commendable, and given the way his blue eyes looked darker and the fact that his eyes were gazing at her lip was a clear indication that Pete was thinking of the same thing, that kiss.

“You two are perfect for each other.” Prim’s gaze switched between Katniss and Peeta’s. “I am going up to my loft, put my noise cancelling headphones on and listen to my favorite K-Pop band really loudly in case you two want to kiss,” Prim wiggled her eyebrows with all of the mischievous and impish power she held.

“PRIM!!” Katniss gasped.

Prim’s peal of laughter exploded in the apartment as she ran up her loft ladder.

If Pete hadn’t been standing next to her she would have chased her sister. She turned slightly to Pete who stood with his hands in his pockets.

“I,” Katniss uttered, unsure what to say. The mood was ruined by her impish sister.

“Katniss, we can just hang out,” Pete suggested. “Maybe watch a movie? Or even fold laundry.”

Katniss wanted to roll her eyes at his suggestion to fold laundry.

“You doubt my folding abilities? I will have you know I know the secret of folding a fitted sheet, it’s a family secret but I may have to kill you unless you’re willing to die for it," Pete said wiggling his eyebrows.

"You know I am an excellent archer." Katniss narrowed her eyes in mock anger.

His instant grin and mischievous glint in his blue eyes caused a small fire to begin in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t explain the butterflies that sprung in her stomach whenever she was near him. Or the way she couldn’t stop staring at his nearly translucent eyelashes. She swallowed thickly as she stared at his lips and recalled how sweet he tasted, and the insane need, no scratch that, desire to walk up to him and kiss him.

“Oh hell,” Katniss breathed before she walked up to Pete and kissed him hard. Her hands reached up to cup his face while standing on tiptoe. She groaned the moment his arms wound around her, bringing her closer to him. Warmth spread from the deepest part of her chest and spread throughout her body.

The kiss wasn’t forceful, but man did it do things to her insides. Katniss disengaged and took him by the hand, dragging him to her makeshift bedroom.

“Katniss,” Pete raggedly uttered her name.

Katniss wasn’t even sure if what she was doing was correct. She didn’t have much, okay, in reality she knew zilch, zero, a big old donut hole about intimacy. The laws of attraction didn’t lend themselves to her until the day Pete Golightly came into her life.

She sat on the bed and scooted backward, trying to convey silently for Pete to come to her. Katniss wasn’t sure where this coquettish side to her came from. But Pete did things to her that made her want everything.

Her eyes scanned him as he stood by the foot of the bed, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. If this were Gale he would have been the aggressor and that would have been like being thrown into a frozen lake in the middle of winter. It’s not that Pete couldn’t be aggressive, he was massive. His hands were warm and large, he was broad shouldered, strong, and taller than she was. Pete could probably bench press her caveman style, but he was sweet and polite, and that drove Katniss wild.

She sat up on the bed and crooked her finger at him.

Swiftly Peeta moved, coming to lay on top of her. She felt the moment he melted into her and she reveled in the power. They both gasped and moaned at the sensation of their bodies being pressed into one another.

Katniss tilted her head slightly to kiss him and little currents of pleasure flowed from her mouth to her belly and further south. Her hands grasped his face so that she could do something she’d heard about, kissing with tongue. It should have felt weird to have her tongue in his mouth. She instinctively sought entrance to his mouth and Pete gasped then angled his head and slowly opened his mouth for her. Her toes curled the moment his tongue greeted hers. Kissing was phenomenal, her new found favorite sport. Yes, it trumped archery.

Her hands released his face and began to roam as they kissed. Katniss had a sneaky suspicion that Pete was some sort of athlete because his chest was firm. Her hand snaked under his shirt and she felt the ridges of his abdomen. Pete moaned and pulled away, his blue eyes wide. He looked dazed, a flush spread up to his cheeks.

She wasn't the type of girl who noticed that a guy was hot. Not that she was blind. Even though she didn’t like Gale. Katniss could admit to herself Gale wasn't an ogre. He was actually good-looking in that tall, dark and too handsome for his own good sort of way. She was just not attracted to him. She was one hundred percent attracted to Pete. And at this moment, all the naughty things she never thought of, never thought she would ever want to do, and had no time for, were rushing through her mind like one of those poorly written super trashy novella's Delly was so fond of reading.

Katniss wanted the shirt to come off, she wanted for it all to come off, she wanted him naked. The word naked should have terrorized her, but in actuality it didn’t. She sat up and tugged up on his shirt. Pete pushed her hands down.

“Katniss we can’t.” Pete sounded like he had run up the steep hill carrying one of those 100lb crates of potatoes Greasy Sae had delivered to the restaurant. He sat back on his haunches. His eyes traveled over her and he shook his head. Katniss sorley wished she knew how to seduce.

"Katniss," he said before he grimaced.

She frowned.

“Your sister,” Pete said pointing up at the loft above.

She’d forgotten about her impressionable baby sister. “Dagnabit!”

Pete smiled gently.

“I hate adulting.”

“We all have to be adults.”

She fell backwards onto her pillow, frustrated. Selfishly she did not want to stop. Realistically Pete was correct. Prim was a scant few feet away. She couldn't act like a typical 20-year-old. She had to be smarter, which is why she tucked all of those awakened me-want-sexy-time thoughts into a corner of her brain. A place where boring things resided, like matching clean socks, cleaning the oven, or pumping gas.

"Talk to me." Pete laid down next to her, not touching her, but just looking at her. It was comfortable, it was nice and yet those butterflies were acting like they were banging spoons and pots in her stomach.

Talking was not her thing. As her court appointed family psychologist said, she was introverted, thoughtful and not someone who could eloquently speak unless pressured. This was partly because talking could lead to trouble. Katniss always reminded herself that until her sister turned eighteen, she had to be careful.

“You’re right,” Katniss sighed. “I can’t get carried away.”

“Believe me, it’s not easy walking away, but I get that you’re not ready for some things.”

“You do something to me,” Katniss blurted. “There are these butterflies I get in my stomach whenever you’re around.” She then realized how childish that sounded, she was twenty and not a thirteen year old girl.

He laughed.

Yep Katniss thought, Pete thought her crazy.

“I get butterflies in my stomach whenever I am around you too.”

“You do?” she was surprised.

“I do. You’re the sweetest most beautiful, bravest woman I have ever met. You are amazing.”

“I don’t know how to take that?” She was awestruck. She didn’t consider herself any of those things. Especially beautiful. She was not beautiful.

“Slowly like breathing. Let the words penetrate your heart slowly.”

Katniss nodded. “I just, I’ve never been with anyone. I don’t have the least idea about what or how I am supposed to act.”

“To be honest there isn’t one way to act; you just be yourself. If you’re not comfortable with something you tell me no or stop. Just like I pulled away and you respected my decision to pull away. I know this sounds like a cheesy movie line, but I like you, Katniss, I like you a lot. You are, and I keep saying this word, amazing, because I’m in awe of you.”

Words shouldn’t be that powerful but the way Pete wielded them caused her to want to rip his shirt and pans off and do stuff. What stuff she wasn’t sure, but stuff that people did in bed. She closed her eyes briefly and wondered what happened to the girl who a few weeks ago was grossed out at seeing two people make out in public.

He smiled and his blue eyes glowed. “I think you did a great job decorating too.”

“Now I know you’re crazy.”

“Given what you had to work with, you did amazing. Besides I’ve seen Prim’s loft…” Peeta grinned, the loft was a riot of baby blue, pinks, and purples. “Believe me you did a great job, even with your sister's space. Just enough chaos but enough organization to help a budding genius.”

“Oh no, she’s got you watching Pinky and the Brain?”

“Zoik!”

“Ugh,” Katniss said.

“What? I’m not a Brain, I’m more of a Pinky. Prim is the Brain.”

“Sometimes I am afraid about how smart Prim really is.” Katniss sighed. “Do you know she knew her periodic table before she turned three? She can spout all of the weights of the elements and is in advanced calculus and physics in school. I’ve asked her if she wanted to move on, you know, to a higher grade, but she said no because she wanted to grow up normal.” Katniss sighed. “She’s had so much disruption in her life. I just want her to have as typical a childhood as possible.”

Pete leaned in and kissed her soundly. Katniss sighed.

He leaned away. “I would like to take you out on a date.”

“When?” She scooted closer to him.

“What about Friday?” He scooted closer to her.

“S’okay.” She moved closer, so close she could see the pale specks in his blue eyes.

“Cool.” He gently enfolded her in his arms.

She’d never been held before, and it was better than ice cream on a warm July evening.

-THE SCENT

It took Claudius the entire day to track down Morph. Even with a stupid name, no one in this forsaken side of town knew the scrawny strung out kid. He went to every single gas station and no one could identify him.

Claudius was frustrated. Viciously glad the only thing he wasted was chump change. He was going to pack it up when he came upon a run down gas station near the border. It was a sad place. The kind of place people were murdered or bodies appeared. With a broken lamp and one gasoline pump because the other one had a white paper taped to it with the words ‘out of service’ hastily scribbled on it.

Claudius went inside and was struck dumbfounded when there sitting behind a laminated counter sat Morph.

“Morph,” Claudius said.

“Yeah.”

“Judy sent me.”

“Oh, yeah,” Morph nodded. His eyes looked unfocused and even in the dim light of the interior his irises were fully dilated.

Crap, Claudius thought, the idiot is high.

“Judy,” Morph said grinning.

“Do you remember why Judy sent me here?” Claudius wondered if this was going to be another dead end.

“Yeah.”

“And.”

“Oh.” Morph waited a moment. “Yeah.”

Claudius would rather get shot during a root canal. “Look kid, have you seen him,” Claudius took the tabloid from off the wrack and pointed to Peeta.

Morph blinked. “He was here, he paid for gas, cash.”

“He did?”

Morph held out his phone screen to Claudius. The thrill of the chase running through his veins. He showed him the picture of Peeta’s side profile. He was wearing the same baseball cap and sunglasses he wore in Judy’s picture. Morph then pulled his phone back and stared blankly.

“Can you tell me what direction he took?”

Morph turned his head. “Yeah.”

“Well.”

“He headed toward Panem.”

“Panem?” Claudius was struck. “Are you sure he didn’t head toward Canada?”

Morph took out his phone and swiped.

There on the screen was a picture of Peeta’s car with the license plate heading toward the Panem border. Claudius took the idiots phone and sent himself the pictures. He slapped a 20 on the laminate counter.

Claudius pumped his gas but mentally he chanted, “Gotcha.”

-CONSPIRATORS

“Good morning,” Prim said from over her bowl of cornflakes.

Pete grinned. The time on the microwave read 5AM. Rubbing the back of his head, he said, “Morning Prim.” He and Katniss fell asleep in her room. He hadn’t woken up until this moment. Katniss was still sleeping.

“So you and my sister,” Prim wiggled her eyebrows.

“Prim.”

She grinned then made little kissy faces.

“First, you are too young to think that way. Secondly, I respect your sister far too much…well, to push her into something she is not ready for.”

“Please, there’s no need for an explanation. I know you guys didn’t do anything. I came downstairs around eleven and both of you were snoring. You, by the way, drooled on her pillow.”

Peeta rubbed his face. He had a sinking suspicion Prim was going to hold this over him.

Prim smiled but as she continued slurping her milk.

“Your sister,” Peeta said, sighing. “I really…I...like her alot, more than a lot actually.”

“Listen Peeta,” Prim said. “You make my sister happy and she makes you happy.”

“Prim,” Peeta hushed Prim. “You can’t use my real name.”

Prim rolled her eyes.

She was the only one who had figured out who he was within seconds of meeting him. She waited until they were alone and then she began to grill him like a well done steak. He had been going to Sae’s diner for one of her infamous soups, but he also liked to watch Katniss. She was graceful. The way she walked around people without making sound or spilling drinks or bowls. He had been trying to gather the courage to speak to her.

One day Prim showed up and his entire ruse was over.

Katniss wasn’t the only Everdeen to be protective. Prim was like a mama bear around Katniss. Her attitude toward her older caused Peeta to have a deep appreciation for Katniss. That she sacrificed so much for her sister was humbling. Peeta wished he could use all of his money and connections to help out the sisters.

However as he got to know both of them, he knew neither sister would take money from him. These two were fighters, they were a team. When Prim figured out he wasn’t playing with her sister’s heart, she was a mini bulldozer pushing them together. Prim was, as Katniss stated, frighteningly intelligent.

“You mean Peeta?” Prim said it louder.

“Prim, keep it down.”

“My sister sleeps like the dead. And you owe me cheese buns.”

Peeta sighed. He’d forgotten the bet, which Prim won. Last night they did end up making out. He couldn’t help the buzzing in his body at the memory of the way Katniss silver eyes turned like liquid mercury when she was aroused. “Okay, we’ll have to go over to my place.”

“Why?” Katniss walked into the kitchen, her hair askew. Her sleepy face was adorable.

Peeta walked to her and planted a sweet kiss on her lips. “Good morning. I’m making cheese buns.”

“Why?” Katniss yawned.

“Because, you should never make a bet against an Everdeen.” Prim winked. “I’m going to grab my clothing and stuff. I’ll pack something for Katniss too.”

Katniss frowned, watching her sister walk toward the loft.

Peeta couldn’t help himself. He cupped her face and properly kissed Katniss. She hummed, groaned and moaned all at once.

She gazed up at him with awe and with the embers of desire. “I lost a bet to Primrose, and now I owe her cheese bun.”

“She shouldn’t be doing that, but your buns are well worth it.”

“You like my buns?” Peeta hoped she meant something else entirely.

Katniss slipped her hand around to his butt and squeezed him briefly before sassily winking at him. “Yup I just love your buns.”

Peeta laughed. And kissed her swiftly, feeling like he had come home.

-THE OUTRAGE

Gale wanted to rip the backyard tree from it’s trunk when he woke up to see Pete coming out of the apartment early this morning. They were laughing and holding hands.

Hi misery could only be accompanied by the rage he felt.

Katniss was supposed to his girl.

Gale closed his eyes momentarily as pain shot through him. He opened them to see the lovers wrapped up in each other. What hurt the most was that, this wasn’t sex, they weren’t fucking for fun. The way they held one another as they kissed, denoted tenderness, deep care, gentleness, and soft yielding toward the other.

Gale tore his eyes away. He loathed Pete Golightly for taking the one girl he thought belonged to him. The one girl he wanted.

Katniss might never be his, but he was never going to accept them as a couple.

-THE HUNT

Peeta Mellark was smart, but Claudius was smarter. With the plates he was able to trace the car. Peeta had turned his car into this obscure car rental in Panem’s Capitol. While he couldn’t confirm that Peeta rented a car, he showed the girl the picture from Morph’s phone. It was imperative he got that first picture of Peeta Mellark. It was now worth nearly 300 Grand. And Claudius wanted to sit on a throne made of money.

“Yeah, I’m trying to trace down my nephew. My brother had a heart attack and my nephew he’s on one of those retreats you go wireless.”

The perky blonde’s eyes widened. "Oh my goodness, are you alright?”

Bingo! Claudius said to himself. People were inherently good, well unless you were a bastard like him, but in reality they wanted to be helpful and that’s where he, the bastard, preyed upon them. “I am okay, my brother,” he added enough emphasis on the word brother to allude that he was mortally grave. “I just hope to find my nephew before…” He trailed off.

“Oh, I can’t give you information, because it’s private.”

Claudius grinned, “Yeah, of course,” he said pumping something close to sincerity in voice. “Could you tell me if someone has seen him if I describe my nephew to you?”

“Sure I can totally do that.”

“Great, you have no idea how much this means to me.”

-THE CONFRONTATION

Gale walked into Greasy Sae’s. He found Katniss briskly walking between tables, serving coffee.

He sat in her section, at the counter and waited patiently as the crowd thinned and she came behind the counter.

“Gale,” Katniss said, her lips were thinned into a tight smile. “What can I get for you today?”

“Coffee,” Gale’s eyes slid down her form. He recalled what she looked like in a pair of shorts and a tank top. She had a slight build, small breast and a small ass too. He thought before that outfit she had a boy's body, but he was wrong. That was the summer before her parents died. “And you.”

Katniss plopped the coffee saucer on the table and then said, “I’m not on the menu.”

“Well you’re sure on Golightly’s menu.”

Her eyes widened before she narrowed them. “That’s none of your damned business.”

“What? That you’ve been whoring yourself to him?” He reached out and snagged her wrist.

“Let go of me.” she tugged.

He tightened his grip, now that he had her, Gale couldn’t let go. He was fascinated by the silvery color of her eyes, the way her pert nose wrinkled. Once again, he thought she wasn’t beautiful, hell, she wasn’t even pretty, but there was this pull about her. One he could not let go, even though she was with that man.

“You’re hurting me,” Katniss whispered struggling.

“Gale Hawthorne,” Delly Cartwright said, slapping him upside the head.

Gale blinked and released his hold on Katniss. He frowned looking at the fat cow Cartwright.

“You let her go or I will call my cousin to arrest you for manhandling.” Delly’s voice was high and squeaky.

He realized everyone was looking at him. Embarrassed he pushed back his hat and said, “I don’t want anything from the likes of her.”

Katniss held her wrist protectively. Her eyes were a glittery silver. Her scowl was in place and he knew that if she had her bow she wouldn’t hesitate to use it.

“You okay?” Delly asked Katniss.

Gale scoffed looking at Katniss's wrist. “She’s not even bruised.”

“Get,” Delly said.

Gale saw that a few of the other residents stood up, their demeanor letting him know that they were backing the girls.

“I’ll be back.”

“No you won’t, I’m going to tell Greasy, and when she hears about this you’ll be banned,” Delly put her finger at the center of his chest.

Gale left, but he swore Katniss was going to pay for embarrassing him.

-THE DATE

Katniss was nervous. She looked at her wrist, glad she didn’t have a bruise after Gale manhandled her at work yesterday. She sighed and put the incident behind her. She wanted to focus on her date tonight with Peeta. Twirling to the side she fretted about the dress, was it too short, was it too revealing? She wasn’t sure about the color.

“You’ve got to relax, Katniss.”

Katniss swung around to face her sister. “You’ve got everything?”

“Yeah,” Prim said, rolling her eyes.

“Prim,” Katniss forgot to worry about her date with the worry about her baby sister.

“Katniss,” Prim grabbed her cheeks between her hands. “I AM GOING TO BE FINE!”

Katniss frowned. It was a night of firsts. She was going on a date with Pete, and her sister was going to her first slumber party with her friend Ginnee at the new girl Coral’s house. Katniss had met Coral’s parents yesterday when Prim came home with the coveted birthday party invite. Coral’s parents were from District Four and they thought a slumber party would help Coral make new friends at her new school.

Katniss thought Coral was okay, it was Ginnee, she didn’t trust. Ginnee had older sisters and brothers. She was astute and as slippery as a snake. Katniss frankly did not trust the intrepid twelve year old girl who would soon turn thirteen. “If anything even remotely happens or you feel uncomfortable you will…” Prim gave her a look that caused Katniss to amend her choice of words. “…can call me.”

“I will.”

There was a horn outside.

“Stop grimacing. It’s just Ginnee.”

“Ginnee,” Katniss muttered under her breath. “Just be careful, and have a good time.”

Prim grinned before she slipped her backpack on her back and sprinted out toward the waiting car.

Katniss stood outside looking like the proverbial mother hen with one arm wrapped around her middle the other lifted in a half-hearted wave. She couldn’t stop her sister from growing up.

As she stood there, Pete’s car pulled up. He came out wearing a nice dark blazer, white crisp shirt, and khakis. He clutched in his hands a bouquet of wildflowers. Where and when he got them she didn’t know. All she could think about was the shy yet sizzling smile Pete sent her way. And the breath she held when Prim left wooshed out of her.

“Hi,” she croaked.

“You look great,” he gushed.

Katniss looked down at the orange wrap dress Prim demanded Katniss splurge on and buy for tonight. “Thanks. You look nice.”

He grinned at her and that was how her control snapped. She stepped up to him and kissed him wildly. She moaned when his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close to him. She was correct; kissing Pete was better than the thirty-one ice cream flavors Baskin Robbins boasted. “Oh Pete…”

Pete pulled back and sighed. “If we don’t get out of here now, I am going to carry over my shoulder and bring you inside, Katniss.”

Katniss raised an eyebrow, feeling emboldened and brazenly she said, “That wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

Pete groaned.

“But,” Katniss said, liking how her words affected him. She wickedly said, “I suppose if you want to spoil me for a nice meal, before I plunder you later on…”

“Do you not understand I am trying to be a gentleman?” His eyes were wide and wild.

Katniss wanted to sound coquettish, but she ended up telling him the truth in a rushed tortured tone of voice. “You’re not the only one holding on to restraint.”

Katniss watched the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. “I am trying to think of everything that is disgusting and unappealing to make me come down back to earth and continue with dinner.”

“You are?”

“Katniss my brain short circuits any time you’re near, and when you kiss me I can’t even function. I have to literally sing the twelve days of Christmas in my head to calm down.”

“The twelve days of Christmas?” She couldn’t help the way a smile formed on her face.

“I have to keep on telling myself that you’re not ready, that this is moving way to fast-“

She didn’t let him finish. “What if I am ready to be with you?” It was impulsive and she was not sorry she said the truth.

“Are you sure?” He looked scared, almost reverent.

“I am, but if you’re not ready, then I’ll wait,” she said into his lips because he kissed her fiercely and such intensity that she was left breathless.

“Food,” he muttered when he pulled away. “Need food to keep up.”

He took her hand and tugged her along. The dinner that followed was uncomfortable in that they both wanted to go home and tear each other’s clothing off. Katniss couldn’t recall what she chose or what he ordered. The only thing she wanted wasn’t on the menu.

When they got to her apartment the thin wall of restraint broke and they were kissing wildly.

“Slow, must go slow,” Pete said as he struggled with pulling off his shirt without unbuttoning it.

Katniss chuckled at his eagerness. A smooth operator Pete was not, but she didn’t mind. She slowed him down by putting her hand on his chest and tugging his shirt down. Quietly she undid the buttons. His breath was labored while hers was calm. She was more than turned on, her underwear were ruined, to be fair, and her nipples stood at attention in her bra. She was the inexperienced one, but at that moment, Pete was the one with jumbled nerves and that made her feel excited, yet calm.

His eyes darkened when she removed his shirt and her hands slid up his chest. Her heart was a riot inside of her chest. Her blood pressure, no doubt, through the roof. Her mouth watered at the sight of his abs. She understood why when women said six-pack they went haywire. On impulse she kissed his chest and licked his pec and Pete roughly called her name.

“Off,” she said, tugging his pants.

Pete's hands flew to his pants and her eyes were riveted to his hands as the zipper came down. Katniss shivered now she began to pant. Her mouth opened and her eyes widened at the sight of him. “OH,” she said. Her hands reached out to touch him, but she glanced up to see if this was alright.

Pete tersely nodded.

Her hand wrapped around him and she sighed along with his groan. He was long and thick, and his tip wept with pre-cum.

“Katniss, I want to see you,” Pete’s voice sounded low and dangerous and she shivered.

Katniss leveled a look at him as she placed her hand on the ties of her wrap dress. He placed his hand on top of hers.

“May I?”

“Okay,” she gasped, dropping her hands. She was by this point unable to talk. The anticipation was getting to her.

Pete’s eyes were hooded and dark as his hands tugged on the knot at the front of her dress. “I’ve been thinking about this all evening.”

Her dress slid open and it slid off her skin smoothly like chocolate melting in one’s mouth.

Pete made a strangled cry at the sight of her. Emboldened by his reaction she reached behind her back and unclipped her bra, letting the straps fall slowly revealing her breasts to him. His hands trembled when he reached out to touch her, but he sought her permission.

“May I,” his voice sounded hoarse.

She nodded, but he just stood there staring at her. Unwilling to wait anymore she took his hand and slid it to her waiting breast. His touch sent her over the edge and her head snapped back and she moaned his name.

His free hand brought her closer and the press of flesh to flesh was an explosion more powerful than any force of nature. Their mouths met greedily, wildly, taking, giving, needing, and raising the temperature between them. She was a blaze for him and he was ablaze for her. He picked her up and mouths still fused, her fingers in his soft wavy hair. She pulled and played with the strands as they somehow landed on her bed. His mouth disengaged from hers once they were laying on the bed him on top looking down at her wantonly.

His lips began a decent down, his tongue tasting, lapping, tracking a path downward leaving her to be a wriggling mess. She called his name fervently as a tight coil wound deep within her womb. He paused at the juncture of her thighs. She could feel his hot breath on her inner thigh. When his fingers brushed along her soaked panties, she jumped.

“I want to taste you,” he said. His eyes flickered from her face to the crotch of her panties.

Katniss fisted her hands into the sheets. She’d accidently read about this in one of Delly’s books. She’d picked it up one day curious as to why Delly found them so appealing. What she read shocked her men kissing a woman between their legs sounded unsanitary. But right now, in this moment, with the way Pete was looking at her as if she was the most delicious plate of food it was the one thing she wanted. “Please,” she gasped.

Pete inched her panties down as if he was unwrapping a present and Katniss was relieved when her underwear were off and lay bare with her legs spread before him. He looked predatorial and yet worshipful. His hands slid up her thighs and a thousand points of electric pleasure raced to her core. And when she kissed her there, and she felt his tongue taste her and she yelled and thrashed wildly, her body shaking as he tasted her.

“Perfect,” he muttered, “delicious,” were words he repeated when he gasped for air.

Katniss didn’t care as she felt herself burn brighter and brighter, the coiling sensation whirled within her until her skin burned and she combusted with a loud sound and moisture seeped out of her.

She was barely back to herself before Pete began his onslaught again. This time, adding a finger, then another and like a dam, she burst over and over until she was a raw nerve, quaking needing more, desiring him to fill her empty spaces. The ones in her heart, mind, soul and body.

She called out his name, pulling him up to her so she could kiss him. His hands touched her and explored her body as they rolled around in the bed. Her hands also drifted over him. Her short nails scraping over his body, soft but hard, brushing over the hair that traveled down his belly button, downward to his cock. She grasped him, but Pete pulled away.

“I want you,” she growled.

His grin was instant. Then he said, “condom…”

Katniss was frustrated when he pulled away to find the offensive item that took Pete away from her. She was bereft without his warmth, and his heavenly body.

When he returned back to her his eyes focused on her body. With fire she opened her legs, an open invitation.

“Fuck,” Pete said. His hand ran through his hair, and once more his lips descended upon her center until she was screaming his name. And when he crawled up pinning her to the bed she was a disarray of sensations primed and ready. With gentleness he lined them up before his body dipped into hers. Tears slipped from her eyes as she felt cherished, wanted, and loved.

His eyes conveyed that and more as she was split open and her mind flashed to the first moment she saw him come into the diner. The way he looked lost and bewildered when he first set eyes on her. The way his hands shook after their first kiss.

“Katniss are you alright?”

Katniss was sure, “Yes.”

“I’m not hurting you?” he gasped as she flexed muscles she didn’t know she had.

She shook her head. And with that he began moving within her and stole her breath away. Being with Pete was more than a treat, it was life altering, soul shaking. He was trying to make her feel good and there were a few times she felt the stirring, but her body was too raw and frayed to really be engaged.

“Katniss,” he panted, “you’re not with me.”

“It’s okay, let go,” she urged.

“But..” he groaned.

She gripped his butt and scraped her nails and he shouted.

She loved to watch him. It didn’t matter that she didn’t come again. She was well satisfied when she saw him lose his mind when he came. That was her new favorite memory. A memory to remove all of the bad ones.

Nothing else mattered because she had fallen in love with Pete.

-LA LIVING

Haymitch ran his hands through his hair. Whoever said there was no such thing as bad publicity should have been stuffed with the food from the first episode of that food network show America's worst cooks.

A month and a half had passed and still Peeta’s name was on the lips of every single exec, studio chief, or big time producer. They wanted Peeta to be in their next production. The Oscar talk in tinsel town was at a fevered pitch and with only one person leading the pack, his client, the kid.

He sat back in his chair. He had other clients, but the kid, he was special. Because unlike the other butter nutters that he dealt with, Peeta was a good kid. He was wholesome. Too darned good for this business.

His secretary buzzed in, “Mr. Abernathy.”

“Yeah,” Haymitch bit out.

“They are calling,” his secretary said with resigned annoyance.

Haymitch gritted his teeth. The studio was calling.

“Fudge,” Haymitch said. He’d given up his two favorite pastimes, drinking and swearing. The drinking because when he found himself lying on top of a train track in the middle of nowhere with a train horn blasting in the distance. It had been time to get help. Two the cursing, it reminded him of the bars. There was something about a good curse word that brought images of a smooth malt whisky. So as part of his sobriety, he gave up cursing.

“You want me to tell them you’re not here,” his secretary sounded giddy as if she wanted to tell them what bridge they can use to take a flying leap from.

“No. Put them through.” He could only imagine what they wanted.

“Abernathy!”

“Ravenstill,” Haymitch greeted.

“I just wanted to tell you that this Agatha Christine stunt is the best thing that has happened. We are two months away from the Oscar Nominations; his name is like gold. Not to mention the movie has been number one for six weeks and has done phenomenally well internationally.”

Haymitch could hear P. Ravenstille the Third calculating the money in his head. To men and women like Ravenstille it was all about the money, not about the kid who had had enough to leave.

“I just want him found before the Oscar nomination,” Ravenstill said.

“Is that all?”

“Yes, good job. I’m sending a few clients your way, Abernathy. See what you can do for their careers.”

With that Ravenstill was gone.

Sighing deeply, Haymitch thought to himself, it was time to begin some digging of his own. He needed to find the kid.

-THE BUBBLE

A few days later Pete made her scream so much that the tension rods gave way and fell. Maybe it was the force of the bed hitting the wall, but it didn’t matter because coming with him buried deep within her walls shook her world. She couldn’t form a simple sentence afterwards. She was glad that afternoon, Prim had been next door playing video games with Vick and Rory.

It all came about because of laundry. She was making plies gearing up for laundry day. By the time she mentioned dryer sheets her underwear was hanging from the corner of the refrigerator. Peeta had a serious kink about laundry.

When Prim came home, she stopped and looked at both of them, as they made dinner. Her eyes narrowed. She looked suspicious.

“Why is your hair wet, Pete?” Prim asked.

Pete looked so embarrassed that he couldn’t come up with a single word.

“Prim go wash up. Dinner will be done in a few minutes,” Katniss shooed her away needing to quickly redirect her sister.

“But his hair is all wet,” Prim said.

This was going to be harder than corralling baby chicks. “We were playing with water Prim,” Katniss said.

“Wait, you had a water fight and didn’t invite me!” Prim sounded outraged.

“I’m sorry, you were so busy playing victory of something or other with Vick,” Katniss teased. It wasn’t a lie; she and Pete did play with water. A steamy game of hide the soap.

Prim twisted her face, and sounded like Daffy Duck, “You’re despicable.”

“I know,” Katniss winked. “Now go wash your hands.”

Pete raised an eyebrow.

Katniss felt the way her cheeks stung as she blushed. “I didn’t lie, we were playing with water.”

Pete’s throaty laugh made her wish they were alone.

-TINSEL TOWN CALL

“Haymitch darling!” Caesar Flickerman's excited voice made Haymitch want to stand in the center of oncoming traffic. The man was so cheerful it gave him a toothache.

“Flick, I’ve got an exclusive.” Haymitch said, jumping in his car.

“Rrrreally,” Caesar rolled his r’s like a cat purring. Caesar's real name was Pertanio Rodriguez, he changed his name to sound more commercial. But he emulated Walter Mercado, a famous and beloved astrologer. Despite his Liberace-like appearance, Caesar was one of the smartest interviewers.

“Let’s just say I’m cashing in that favor, you owe me.” Haymitch slipped his glasses on. The black and white grainy pictures of a blond Peeta Mellark and a dark haired beauty were on his passenger side.

“You mean you know where Peeta Mellark is?”

“Yeah, I want you to get ready to move, and I mean move fast.” Haymitch knew everything, thanks to Finnick. He followed Pete Golightly to District Twelve and that’s where he found him playing house with a girl. Haymitch needed to spin this fast, because he guessed if he found Peeta this fast there were others who were on his trail. “The kid’s in love, and it’s why he left. To help his lady love.”

“OHHHHH,” Caesar said.

“Yeah, star crossed, flipping flip flop, lovers.”

-THE APPROACH

Claudius was tired, but he knew he was getting close. He could taste it as he drove off the ferry into District Twelve. The island was small, mostly filled with rocky hills. This was the type of place where cousins kissed and everyone was related.

His proof? As he drove into town all he could see was tan and olive-skinned people, with slick black hair and light eyes. Yep, he was in an inbred clusterfuck. It was evening, and the sun was dipping low, closing on another day. It was starting to get cold.

The rented car needed gas; he drove it through the Capitol and eleven of the thirteen districts. He wanted nothing more than to find a hotel, get a hot meal, and a shower.

Pulling into the gas station a taller version of the inbred came out.

“Forty dollars regular.” Claudius offered the kid the two bills. He was looking at his emails. There was still no sight of Peeta Mellark.

He scowled. “You’re tearing the engine with regular.”

The growl snapped Claudius from perusing his phone. The kid looked like he could bench press him. “Fine.”

“Ass,” the hot-tempered giant said.

“Look, I'm looking for someone. He’s medium height, blue eyes, broad shoulders…a chin that makes women swoon.”

The kid raised an eyebrow.

“Look, he kinda looks like Peeta Mellark the movie star,” Claudius doubted the giant had two brain cells that held a note of intelligence. “Do you know anyone who looks like that?”

The giant’s eyes widened and he growled, “I do.”

“You do, great!”

“Who the hell are you?”

Suddenly Claudius saw the kids eyes turn cold and calculating, and Claudius thought huh, he was wrong, the giant was smart.

“I’m a reporter, my name is Claudius.” Claudius took out his card and gave it to the giant. “I’m looking for him, you know where he is?”

“How much is it worth to you?”

“Sure, 50K,” Claudius said.

“100 Grand,” the giant countered.

“60..” the kids hand curled into a fist, and Claudius raised his price, his voice going up an octave. “70…5…75 Grand.”

“Good, name’s Gale.”

“Gale,” Claudius said, not sure if this kid was going to lead him to Peeta Mellark or into the mountains and skin him alive.

“Meet me tomorrow,” Gale said scribbling the address on the back of his receipt.

“If this is…”

“You want Mellark, right?” Gale asked.

“Yeah, well meet me there tomorrow morning. Early, or you won’t catch him.”

Claudius knew there was a story here, “Why?”

“Look, this district is so small about half a dozen people already know that you’re here. The news will get to him quickly and he’ll leave. Do you want that?”

“No.” Claudius felt like he was back in third grade being chastised by his thick legged hairy teacher Mrs. Gaul.

“Good, then drive four miles, make a left on Chicory lane and stop at number 451, and tell the goat man I sent you. He’ll take care of you tonight. Meet me tomorrow before five at this address.

-THE CALM

Katniss awoke slowly, she was surrounded, cocooned in a delicious warmth and manly scent. Their first date led to her sleeping with him. Heat spread throughout her body as she recalled the way it felt to have him deep inside her, the way her body split and widened to accommodate him. His look was a blend of worry and bliss. Seeing him come undone was one of her new favorite things to do.

Of course Pete confessed his favorite thing to do was making her orgasm over and over.

“How is it you’re not sleeping?”

His sleep roughened voice caused gooosebumps to appear up and down her body.

“Well, I have to go get Prim, she’s at Coral’s house.”

“Right,” Pete rubbed his eyes.

“Pete, you don’t have to go.”

Pete looked at his phone, “Katniss it’s not even five in the morning.”

“It isn’t?” Katniss looked at his phone. “I forgot the whole time-change thing.”

Pete laughed, “Well that gives us time...”

Katniss turned and saw him leering at her and she gasped and laughed as Pete attacked her lips.

-THE SNARE

Gale couldn’t believe his nemesis was none other than the ‘goody-toO-shoes’ Hollywood star; Peeta Mellark was Pete Golightly. It was the same blue eyes, chin, build, height, even his smile was the same. Only his hair was different. Peeta’s blond hair didn’t look like a bottle dye job though. He looked like a natural blond. Either way, Gale wanted to smack himself on the back of his head. His anger had blinded him and he hadn’t made the connection; the missing Hollywood star was hiding here in District Twelve, and now that Hollywood star had seduced the one clueless girl on the entire island that he, Gale, desired.

Gale looked at his phone. Claudius, the reporter was late. Gale had googled the guy last night. Claudius was legit. He worked as an independent photographer for Snow Incorporated; Coriolanus Snow owned several tabloid magazines, and a few reputable newspapers.

For once Gale was glad Katniss' sister wasn’t at home. He knew Prim wasn’t in the apartment. Vick, his little brother said she was having a slumber party this weekend. Prim shouldn’t have to pay for her sister's indiscretion.

A cold breeze slipped by. It was cold outside, and it looked like snow was on the way.

Pete or rather Peeta, was inside with Katniss.

Gale wondered if Katniss knew who Pete really was and if that was why she’d let him into her inner circle. Maybe she was attracted to his fame and fortune. If that was the case, and Katniss turned out to be one of those girls, then what chance did he, a mechanic, have. She would never go for him. And that is why he was waiting for the reporter.

He wanted her to hurt the way he hurt.

He wanted her to be embarrassed the way he was embarrassed at her denial of what he wanted.

He wasn't an idiot. He was smart.

And with the money he was about to make he certainly didn’t want a cheap hussy like Katniss by his side. He was going to get himself a good girl, a girl who wanted him for more than just his looks and money.

Gale spotted the reporter’s car as it pulled up silently.

“What kind of Blair Witch Project kind of road is this? I swear I was afraid I was going to fall into a ditch and die a few times.”

“You made it, didn’t you?”

Claudius sighed, “Yeah.”

“You got the money?”

“I need the goods,” Clausidius said.

“Look, I know you think I’m some backward hick living in a hole in the wall, but I know that if you don’t pay me, the best picture you’ll get of Mellark is a picture of him from behind, leaving this house. What I got planned is going to make you notorious.” Gale held up the extra set of keys to the rental.

The reporter grimaced, but looked at the keys. “Fine,” Claudius said. He got out of his car and pulled out a messenger bag full of money and handed it to Gale.

“That's half, that's all I have with me,” Claudius said.

“Once I get the picture, I’ll get you the other half.”

“Then let's go,” Gale said, striding forward.

-THE STORM

Peeta lazily let his hands drift over Katniss’ arm. They were cuddling, spooning. Her delicious backside was pressed up against his front. She was half-asleep, lulled by their last round of love making.

Prim told him last night that he needed to tell Katniss the truth. He was scared. But as Prim said, Katniss knew him. She knew the real him and not the poster board flashy grinning guy he had to portray in the media. Everything was pretend in Hollywood and over the top. He wanted something real and he found it in her.

His heart melted for her. He was in love for the first time in his life. He loved and was in love with Katniss and this morning he was going to tell Katniss the truth about who he was.

“Katniss,” he whispered into her cheek.

“Mmmm,” she moans sleepily.

“Come on, Everdeen,” he nipped at her neck, chin, and earlobe.

“Go away,” she snuggles into the bed.

“Katniss,” he tried again. “I’m going to make you cheese buns.”

“Mmmm, cheese buns.”

“And my real name is Peeta Mellark,” he said quietly.

Her eyes opened, just as the curtains to her room opened and the flash of a camera went off.

“PEETA MELLARK,” Cluadius shouts as he takes pictures. “Is she what made you leave Hollywood!”

Peeta took his shirt and covered Katniss before he leapt from the bed and pushed Caludius out of the bedroom and out of the apartment.

“Gale?” Katniss asked behind him.

Peeta saw the tall lanky neighbor with a pleased grin in the shadows as Claudius took pictures. His first instinct was to punch the idiot, because he knew it was Gale that sold them out. His second instinct was to call in the calvary, Haymitch.

-THE FRENZY

"My sister. They're going to take my sister away," Katniss whispered, pacing back and forth.

“Katniss, I am sorry about this,” Pete says, running his hand through his blond hair.

She can’t stop the worrying. Then she paused and stared at the man she’d fallen in love, the man who lied to her. “You were trying to tell me...before that...that.”

“I wanted to be honest with you.” He stood and came to stand near her.

Suddenly she was filled with questions, all of them starting with the word, why. "How did you come up with your name Pete Golightly?”

“Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Audrey Hepbrun’s name is Holly Golightly. It’s the name I use whenever I check into hotels. I changed my name slightly and used Golightly. Only one person knows my alias, a fail safe in case someone needs to reach me in an emergency.”

“Huh,” Katniss cocked her head. She didn’t like old movies and frankly had never seen it. But she was familiar with the posters of Audry Hepurn standing in front of the jewelry store. “Breakfast at Tiffany’s, the girl with the black dress.”

“That’s the one.”

“Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because." He waits a beat before he says, "I was in hiding. I didn’t want to burden you with knowing. Besides, no one needs me."

Katniss couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her lips. How could anyone not want him, need him.

“But you’re a movie star?” Katniss whispered, wondering how she missed out on the reality that he was Peeta Mellark, the movie star. She had a poster of him when she was younger. But she blinked to focus. Pete was really Peeta. She furrowed her eyebrows as she thought about what she knew about him. She'd seen him during these last few weeks, tested his metal. Carefully she made a list of the things she knew about Peeta, the man. He was smart, strong, generous, kind, sweet, good. At the last word she stopped. Peeta was beyond, just, plain ol' good. He had an inherent goodness that was at the center of his being, and people didn’t see it because they were taken in by the fame.

“Exactly.” He gave her a pointed look. “They need my money, notoriety, fame...but no one needs me. My family,” his voice sounds bitter laced with disappointment. "They only need me and use me for the money in my bank account. My mother sold the spare key to my house for a fee to the tabloids. They went through my home and splayed it in Snow’s publications for the world to see. When I asked why, my mother said it was because I was a selfish, weak chinned, dumbass who she was going to sue for lost wages. As we speak her lawyers are filing paperwork.”

He sighed and his eyes saddened. Katniss could see how broken and lost he was, and Katniss reached out to touch his hand. She wonders what kind of woman would do that to her own child. Katniss had no idea. she didn't read the tabloids or watched shows about movie stars and their sordid lives. She was too busy trying to put food on the table and keep a roof over her and her sister’s heads.

Sad blue eyes met her fiery silver ones. Katniss wanted to tuck him away and keep him safe.

“I left Hollywood because I was burnt out. I thought no one cared for me. I do not need attention, as Haymitch will attest to, I hate the attention, but I love the work. However, people want the movie star. They don’t want me Peeta, the guy who would rather hang out, paint or experiment with food. I only have two friends Haymitch, which you’re about to meet and I am apologizing for what Haymitch is, and Finnick Odair. Yes, that Finnick Odair who runs around in his movies, half naked, half the time."

Kathiss wrinkled her nose at the image of the guy with the Jason Mamoa body, and the devil may care grin. He was, in Delly's words, melt your panties hot. But Katniss didn't find him interesting. "I've been forced to watch a few of his movies."

His eyes lighted and his lips formed a smile at the word forced.

"Delly." Katniss shrugged. "She thinks he is sultry, but he's not my type." She watched his eyes process the information. "So if you don't have that many friends..." her voice drifted. Gleaning his information about his family, she formulated the question. Katniss didn't have a lot of friends. There was only Delly and Madge. But she also had Prim, her only family, and even her pacifist her sister would punch bees for her. "What do you do?"

"I sit home most of the time doing laundry. Perfecting my fitted sheet fold."

"You have a thing about laundry."

"Just yours," his heated look caused her pulse racing.

"Peeta," she chastised. He smiled mischievously and picked up the bra that she'd been looking for.

Intense heat flooded her cheeks. She imagined she had to be redder than the child of a tomato and a cherry. She snatched it from his hands. "You need to get back to Hollywood...and why you left."

Peeta cleared his throat. "I really don't do the whole Hollywood thing. I don't party. I don't drink and I don't do drugs. Most of my nights I hang out with Finn and his wife Annie. I do a lot of laundry for Annie. They have an adorable lil boy, a toddler, named Finian. Fin for short, who loves mud. I do their laundry for fun. But outside of them, like I said, I have no one and I know that no one wants me, so I walked away. I didn’t think anyone would hunt me down. I am sorry.”

Katniss didn’t have a voice momentarily, so she continued to listen.

“I came here, intending to hide out for a few days and then head to District Thirteen. Then I walked into Greasy Sae’s and I couldn’t breath when I saw you and weirdly parallel stalked you…and then I met Prim.”

“What about Prim?” Katniss needed to know everything. It would serve her right that, her super intelligence off the charts, baby sister would figure who Pete really was.

“Prim knows, she figured me out. Within seconds...she knew all of my media history. She's tough, made me sweat.”

Katniss chuckled. Her baby sister could be exasperating and could be terrifying when she turned on, what Katniss called her smart factor. Prim was a computer able to make calculations about all sorts of things. Katniss was the only one who could match her sister when engaged. But it also reminds Katniss of the pictures of her naked with Peeta. "Oh the pictures. This isn't good Pete...Peeta."

"Katniss trust me, we'll figure a way out. I swear. My manager Haymitch will know what to do.” Peeta's voice was reassuring.

“No, you don’t understand the state; they will see this as me being irresponsible. They will take my sister away and put her in foster care.” Katniss couldn’t help the way her voice rose. Everything was spinning out of control. She couldn’t help the tears that fell from her face.

“Listen to me. Haymitch is almost here. He said he has a plan.” He gathered her in his arms and she sighed and trembled.

All she ever wanted was to make her sister feel safe. She wanted to make her sister feel as if nothing else could go wrong. She closed her eyes. Now she couldn’t do that because a paparazzi had taken naked pictures of her and Pete...Peeta. Naked pictures that would be splashed and splayed all over tabloids and news media outlets.

Pictures that weren’t Peeta’s fault, but Gale’s.

Gale sold Peeta out.

“Pete, I mean Peeta,” Katniss couldn’t hide her misery. “Those pictures, they’re going to use them against me. They are going to use them against you too.”

His eyes warmed.

His cell phone beeped. He looks at his phone. “Delly’s here.” Delly was bringing Prim home. There was another ping. He frowned looking at the phone then said, “...and so is Haymitch.”

He gave her a look, as if pleading with her to trust him. He looked so vulnerable. Katniss expelled a breath. She’d question if she should trust him. A single word enters her mind. Together.

Taking his hand in hers. "There isn’t anyone I would rather do this with."

He chuckled. "You’re so fierce, like an Amazon."

Katniss grinned. "You haven't seen me with my bow."

"You’re so amazing."

Their hands threaded together. She was going to protect Peeta because the whirlwind of pain stopped here.

Let the storm commence.

"Together," Peeta said with hope.

"Together."

-THE BUCK STOPS AT LA

Peeta opened his mouth to speak as Haymitch entered the garage. The kid’s text message that Claudius broke into the girl's apartment and took pictures of them in-flagrante had him calling in the troops. He had less than an hour to spin and control the narrative. Naked pictures of the kid wouldn’t have meant anything to Haymitch if it were another client, but the kid had a stellar track record. It meant the world. He sent a text to his contact, another favor. The kid was going to owe him big.

"Save it, kid," he said gruffly. He needed a drink, hell, he needed an entire bottle of whisky. "Flipping burnt flapjacks, kid, if you needed a break." His eyes scanned the small interior. His car was bigger on the inside than this place. "I could have helped you."

"Haymitch," Peeta looked behind him at the girl and her sister.

"I'm sorry," Prim said quietly. "I wanted to tell you. But Peeta needed to feel safe."

"I know." Katniss nodded curtly.

Peeta's love interest had the personality of a dead slug. His phone pinged. Haymitch hid his eavesdropping. His eyes focused on Peeta. The kid was more than just a client; he was like family.

Haymitch lowered his voice. "I know this had to do with your family. So I let you go, my mistake. And I'm not letting anyone ruin you for a paycheck. Now introduce me."

"Haymitch, this is Katniss Everdeen and her sister Primrose.

It only took Haymitch seconds for him to assess the situation.

The little sister Primrose was sugary sweet, adorable. Her wide baby blue eyes held intelligence and goodness. The world was going to love her.

His grey eyes met the girl. "Listen Sweetheart, if you’re going to survive this, you've got to listen to me."

His grey eyes watched the kid with the girl. He hid his grin when she scowled at his nickname for her. He could see her bristle, before her eyes shuttered closed, almost like a camera lense quickly shifting to block out light. "Okay, lovebirds, Cinna is here. And Caesar is waiting outside to interview you both."

"Haymitch," Peeta said, taking a step forward to protect both of the women in his arms. This behavior he expected from the kid.

Sweetheart’s behavior though surprised him. When Katniss glanced at Peeta, she transformed into a fiery creature that is so pure and majestic. Haymitch realized Sweetheart was a lot like him. Tender hearted, fiercely loyal, with a tough exterior. Haymitch knew the girl was smitten with Peeta himself, and not the Hollywood facade. This he could work with.

"Haymitch, Katniss is Primrose's guardian. The pictures Claudius took are salacious and damning." Peeta glanced back at Katniss before moving forward. “She can't afford to have them come out. We need to make sure they are protected."

"Look, I can sell this star-crossed lover." As expected Sweetheart scowled. Good, Haymitch thought; he wanted her to go into combat mode. "You guys will tell Caesar the truth." As Haymitch spoke he was furiously typing on the keypad of his phone. "He's broadcasting it onto a live audience. People love a good love story. Any pictures Claudius has will be seen as intrusive."

Haymitch opened the door to Cinna who arrived with the prep team.

"How long do we have?"

"15 minutes tops," Haymitch said.

Cinna nodded. The team hauled in dresses, makeup, lights, and things Haymitch was sure the Everdeen women had never seen.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Haymitch turned to meet a woman who looked to be six feet tall. Her sharp eyes glance at Sweetheart. Haymitch guessed this was landlady by her agitated face.

"Hazelle," Sweetheart said, and he could see that she wanted to cry, but she built up a wall. This wasn't a friend, but the woman was an authority figure. Someone Sweetheart looked up to.

“Katniss what is going on? Why are all these people trespassing? Gale called me and said that you had all of these people here.”

Sweetheart was easy to read. She was pissed at the name Gale. He quietly glanced at the kid who’s eyes ticked also at the sound of Gale’s name.

“Who is Gale?” Haymitch abruptly asked, not caring about the woman before him. He knew Gale was related to Hazelle but he wanted to know what part this idiot had in this fiasco.

“Gale is my son, and this is my property.”

Sweetheart looked agitated, and he wondered if this Gale was the reason he was here. The reason the kid and sweetheart were in this mess. Peeta mouthed Claudius to him and confirmed his suspicions. “You rent to her?” Haymitch narrowed his eyes.

“Yes.” Hazelle bit back. “I want…”

Haymitch got in her way, stopping her torrent of words. His phone pinged, and he got what he was waiting for, the pictures, from an insider at the tabloid Claudius sold the pictures to. As he's suspected, the money shot wasn't of Peeta, it was of Peeta with Sweetheart. Haymitch then saw why Peeta was upset. Because the pictures showed how vulnerable the kid's other half was. It was Sweetheart’s whose life would be ruined. Her name raked through hot coals and muck. This was the intention of Hazelle’s son, and Haymitch scratched the words 'Hazelles son' and for the first time in years he cursed, that rat bastard. “Then you know your son allowed a paparazzi into your renter’s apartment and let him take pictures of my client and his girlfriend while they were asleep?”

Her eyes widened with shock. “My son would never…”

“Really,” Haymitch held his phone up and. “I believe that is your son in the background with a smug grin on his face. He violated the renter’s agreement to be notified before entering the residence. He also is a slimy, no good worm for doing that to her.” Haymitch said, “Hope you’re proud of your son.”

Hazelle’s eyes lost her indignation. "I..."

"I suggest you lawyer up. I've just sent the information to my client’s lawyer, Johanna Mason. I suggest you call your son and tell him he can kiss the money he made goodbye."

"Johanna?" Peeta questioned.

Haymitch grinned wickedly. Peeta hadn't wanted to do anything about his mother, but Haymitch went behind his back to procure Hollywood's number one ball busting lawyer Johanna Mason. She gleefully was preparing the paperwork against Snow; the woman loathed the man. She already had an injunction against the images. "Don't worry Kid, she's doing this pro-bono. Now go get pretty. You go live with Caesar in less than ten."

-THE INTERVIEW

Caesar Flickerman was like a circus ringleader. Literally dressed like a ringleader with a red jacket, black lapels, and gold trimming. His hair was jet black and his smile was a little too crazed for Katniss' liking. She squared her shoulders, looking at Haymitch who raised an eyebrow and his eyes slid to the camera letting her know she was not acting like the doting girlfriend. It caused her to gaze at Peeta who took her hand and squeezed it. The butterflies that were eerily silent until this very moment were having a championship hockey match inside of her stomach.

She was so uncomfortable. In ten minutes she’d been waxed, pealed, and poured into clothing with price tags that made her head spin. The jean’s she wore cost more than her rent. She and her sister were sitting on either side of Peeta. Primrose looked beautiful, her blonde hair combed and styled to perfection. Cinna and his assistants dressed her in a graphic t-shirt dress and distressed jacket. She wore lace up black ankle boots. Prim was excited for the fashion and Katniss' heart twisted because she could never afford to give her sister any of this.

Looking down at her hands, she thought this was all surreal.

There were cameras, glaring lights, this fuzzy long thing that hung right above her head. It was hot and uncomfortable. It was also live.

Caesar was speaking to the camera about them.

It was too much. Those butterflies that were playing hockey now drove dune buggies. Her eyes looked for an exit. She didn’t know how Peeta did it, being on center stage.

Sensing her discomfort, Peeta put his arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer. Katniss sighed, looking up at him. The sooty lashes that Peeta's prep team glued to her lids stuck together and she blinked to separate them; this is why she didn't wear makeup.

Peeta might have read the wrong signal because he leaned in and brushed a kiss on her lips. Then his lips trailed from the cleft of her lips to her cheeks to her ear. "You okay?" he whispered.

Katniss could feel heat flush her face as she realized Peeta had found a way to communicate without breaking the charade. Katniss whispered, "My fake lashes keep on sticking together. And I loathe make up!"

The low rumble in his chest meant he was caught off guard.

She wanted to hide her grin, and he wiggled his eyebrows. There was the loveable goofball who had an unnatural love of all things laundry. Say the words fabric softener and he became a puppy with a favorite toy.

He roughly whispered, "You're amazing!"

He gently brushed her lashes and adjusted the troublesome lash before moving away.

"Look at you two, what a beautiful couple!" Caesar gushed.

For those few seconds Katniss was grateful for the man's exuberance; it's as if he was on their side.

“So what happened Peeta?” Caesar said with notes of sincerity. “Why did you walk away?”

Peeta leaned forward and Katniss slipped her hand in his.

“It was the whole thing with my parents.” Peeta’s voice hid nothing of the pain; he shared it with the world. “My mother sold me to the highest bidder, and,” Katniss squeezed his hand. “They went through my home. I felt violated, and unable to feel safe.”

Caesar said, “I recall that wasn’t that long ago.”

“The pressure, sadness, and betrayal were eating me up and I needed to step away. I am not a drinker or a guy who enjoys partying.” Peeta shrugged. “I’m a homebody. I’m more domestic.”

Katniss thought of his love of laundry and the butterflies in her stomach settled.

Caesar laughed. “Domestic.”

“He makes great pastries,” Prim said. Her eyes were wide and lovely.

“Pastries?” Caesar asked.

“Here you want some?” Prim held up a bag of cookies. “They are heavenly.”

“PRIM,” Katniss huffed. “I’m so sorry.”

Peeta grinned. “You see Caesar, this is what I needed.”

Caesar laughed. “Tell me who are these lovely ladies…”

“This is Primrose Everdeen,” Peeta introduced.

“Hi Caesar,” Prim said. “Seriously though you need to try these cookies.” Prim opened the brown bag and handed one to Caesar.

“Well, alright,” Caesar looked at the cookie as if tasting it was going to make him gain three hundred pounds.

“It’s gluten free, dairy free, and nut free,” Prim smiled.

The camera zoomed into Caesar’s face and Katniss witnesses the power of Peeta’s bakery take down another person. The celebrity interviewers face turners into one of pure rapture. “Peeta, you must give me the recipe.”

“Sorry his baked goods are all mine,” Prim said.

Caesar laughed. “Oh she is precious. But tell me who is this sitting next to you?”

“Caesar this is Katniss Everdeen.”

The butterflies were back and they had jackhammers.

“She’s the reason I stayed actually. They aren’t the reason I walked away, but they are the reason I didn’t go back” Peeta confessed. His voice softened, his eyes held notes of tenderness as he spoke, “These two women mean the world to me.”

Even the hardened Hollywood crew sighed at Peeta’s words.

“I met him first,” Prim said. “But I needed to make sure he had good intentions toward my sister.”

“Katniss,” Caesar asked, “You’ve been so quiet.”

Katniss glanced at her sister and then at Peeta, unaware of the way her face transformed and caused the world to fall in love with her. She transcended into something fierce and wildly beautiful.

The camera scanned down to the way her hands were intertwined with Peeta’s.

“When did you fall for him? Did you know who Peeta was?”

Katniss couldn’t stop staring into Peeta’s blue eyes. “I didn’t know who he was; I was clueless.” Her voice trembled, “All I know is that he was so kind and generous.” She stared, not at the camera but at Caesar. “And when I found out who he was and what happened I just couldn’t understand why any mother would want to hurt their child like that.”

Peeta smiled softly then he looked at Caesar, “Now you know why I stayed.” Peeta then placed a kiss on her lips and then said, “What I didn’t expect was another invasion of privacy.”

-AMERICAN SWEETHEARTS

“You alright?” Peeta tucked a strand of her hair behind Katniss' ear. She looked gorgeous. Cinna had outdone himself. She wore a red dress that looked like poured molten fire on her skin. Peeta couldn’t wait to get back home and strip her out of it.

“I am.”

He watched her hands shake. The Oscars was the superbowl of the movie industry. Peeta held her hand. Outside the limo, there were about a thousand reporters and wall to wall fans. This was overwhelming for her and he was the professional. He could just imagine what it was like for a girl who would rather sit in the chair of a sadistic dentist sans novacaine than to be thrust into the controlled mêle that existed outside the limo’s door.

“You don’t have to go in with me; you can stay in the car. You can go back to the hotel, rent a movie, jump on the bed, steal all of the toiletries in the room, and if you are feeling dangerous," Peeta lowered his voice an octave, "rip the tags off the mattress.”

Katniss narrowed her eyes at him. He watched her struggle to keep the laughter she wanted to expel over his ridiculous suggestion. He, of course, made reference to the small argument they were having over her purity.

It started with Finnick doing his whole Daniel Craig, James Bond thing where he came out of the water. Finnick was messing with her and Katniss disliked him. She proceeded to give Finnick, ‘if he were in her woods he'd be in big trouble’ looks throughout the barbeque.

Peeta told her, Finnick was only messing with her because she was pure. And Katniss bristled, and fought that she wasn't pure. But Peeta didn't mean it in a sexual way. He meant it in the way that she was pure of heart. Katniss had a pure heart. Like the hero's of old, she was valiant and although tough as nails, she was forgiving. Gale betrayed her and she was mulling over forgiving him.

After Caesar's interview, Peeta and Katniss’ relationship was cemented in the public eye. Haymitch was able to control the narrative since Katniss led a normal life and wasn't like Finnick, who had so many hidden skeletons in his closet. Haymitch was taking care of the Everdeen women, mentoring them. He had an affinity for Prim and Katniss. They understood one another because Haymitch had lost his family as well, and he had tried to raise his brother, but they were separated and sent into foster homes.

Haymitch hired Johanna to help Katniss retain her custody of Prim. They were seeking visas for all three of them. Peeta to travel in and out of Panem, and For Katniss and Prim.

Johanna, spurred by the public outcry over the second violation of his privacy, wanted Snow and his tabloids prosecuted for invasion of privacy of someone who wasn't in the limelight. Gale and Claudius were arrested for, breaking and entering and some other misdemeanor charges. Claudius was facing a harder climb because he was an outsider. Because of Katniss, there was clemency for Gale. And that brought him back to why Katniss was pure. She didn't even know the effect she had on people or how she inspired others.

Peeta reached out and put his hand on top of hers. “No, I can do this,” she said.

He knew this was not easy, but as she sat perched at the edge of her seat, he thought about how Katniss became his family. How she encouraged him to take on meaningful roles, and to pursue directing and production. They were both still young, but he knew from the moment his eyes met hers in Greasy Sae's diner he was a goner. His feelings for Katniss multiplied as time passed and they worked through each hurdle together.

Looking at her, Peeta knew without a doubt Katniss had strong feelings for him as well. She wasn't someone who used words; she spoke with her actions. Katniss fought by his side. Simple things she did. Like making his tea the way he liked it without sugar and milk. Opening the window before they went to sleep because she knew he liked to sleep with a window open. Googling how to make natural paints, then going out into nature and gathering supplies to make the paint for him. It spoke volumes.

"I love you," the words slipped out of his lips.

Her eyes widened.

"You don't have to say it back to me, because I know that you care about me. You do a hundred little things in the day to show me the depths of your emotions toward me."

He watched as a smile curved her lips. Her silvery eyes sparkled, greater than sunlight glittering on the surface of water. She stole his breath away. All he ever wanted was to be needed, loved, and here was the personification of that need.

"I need you Peeta," she rasped. He could hear and see the depth of emotion in her eyes. "I love you."

He leaned in and with shaking hands cupped her face. Suddenly he didn’t want to be at the Oscars. Peeta wanted to be in a private room to show her with his words, his mouths, his hands, and his body just how much he loved this woman. “Screw the Oscars, let's get out of here.”

Her eyes turned mischievous, “Oh hell no. I wasn’t plucked, creamed and stuffed into this dress like a holiday turkey by Cinna and his prep team just to turn around and leave. We’re going to walk that carpet, we’re gonna sit in our seats, and do this shindig, because as much as I like pissing off Haymitch, I don’t think we should give him a heart attack by not showing up.”

Peeta laughed. There she was pushing her own discomfort for him. “And afterwards?”

“Win or lose, Pete Golightly, you’re taking this dress off with your teeth.” She threw him a mischievous look, “And then we’re going to grab some fabric sheets and sniff them.”

The door opened and Peeta was stunned by her description. Heat and desire poured through his veins. He now had a boner. Then a slow smile spread on his face he was going to go home a winner no matter what. Laughter erupted from his lips, though from the fabric sheets comment and the sheer joy on his face was the picture that was captured by the press.

Peeta did win the Oscar, and he did go home, and he did tear off her dress with his teeth. And afterwards they did laundry all night long. He was after all, a man of his word.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #fan fic #by mega-aulover

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everlarkbirthdaygifts · 3 years

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Everlark Birthday Gifts - Announcement

Hello, everyone.

As you were likely already aware, EBG is closing. The plan was originally to take this blog through to the end of the year, however, the EBG mod team has made the difficult decision to close early, therefore November will be our final month.

All remaining prompts will be honoured, but no more will be taken on. Apologies to those with December birthdays who planned on submitting a prompt. I would encourage you to submit your prompts to @seasonsofeverlark instead.

Thank you to everyone, our readers, our lurkers, our contributors, and our 901 followers for all your support and excitement over the last three years. It’s been an incredible honour and a tremendous amount of fun providing this service to the THG and Everlark fandom, but it’s definitely time for us to move on.

@ally147writes, @booksrockmyface, @justajjfan

#everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #mod post #announcement

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everlarkbirthdaygifts · 3 years

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Happy Birthday, everybirdfellsilent!

Happy belated Birthday, @everybirdfellsilent! Apologies once again for all the mix-ups and confusion with your gift! I hope you had a truly wonderful day back when it actually was your birthday, and that it was much more orderly than this! To bring the party feels back, @ally147writes has emerged from everlark retirement to write a birthday gift just for you!

AN: Let me tell you, @everybirdfellsilent, I agonised over the ending. This was the neatest and tidiest I could make it without writing you a novel. I hope it makes you chuckle a little.

Also a good time to let the audience know that I cannot write horror, or ghost stories, but dang it, I can write borderline crack, and I wanted to write Buzzfeed Unsolved-inspired ghosthunter!everlark so damn much.

Unbeta’d, because that’s how I roll.

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The old Undersee mansion doesn’t look haunted.

Not that that really means anything. Most of the houses they’ve visited over the years haven’t looked haunted. They’ve been completely normal — except for that one in District Ten that had some kind of summoning circle in the basement (Peeta will die hoping it was drawn with red paint, a super weird kid’s project, but he’s got a feeling he’ll be dying disappointed. And extremely terrified) — with completely normal gardens in completely normal streets.

So, no. Like most, the old Undersee mansion doesn’t look haunted, but it definitely feels haunted.

Peeta pauses at the bottom of the winding path. At its end, atop a small hill, the innocuous house sits empty, Madge and her family out for the next few nights while he and Katniss investigate. It’s as normal looking as any of the other exorbitantly large mansions on the street, but the longer Peeta stares down the deceptively cheerful, sunshine-yellow door, a deep, intense foreboding settles in his gut and ferments there.

He swallows. “Uh, Kat?”

Katniss sighs and stops at the first step to the porch, and Peeta swears he can hear her eyes rolling. Hard. “What is it, Peeta?”

“I just… I got a real bad feeling about this one.”

“Peeta,” she starts, mounting the first step, “you’ve had real bad feelings about all of them so far. And you’ve been wrong every time.”

“No,” he replies quickly, following behind in the relative safety of her shadow. “You’ve just chosen to deny whatever proof we do find.”

“A battery running out in our flashlight does not mean ghosts were playing with it.”

“It ran out at the exact moment I told the spirits to turn it off!”

“I don’t know how else to tell you that was a coincidence. The flashlight had been on for a good two hours by that point.”

“A little convenient, don’t you think? Come on, Katniss. Plus, it turned right back on again when we were done, so the battery can’t have been that damn flat.”

“I can’t understand why you’re so eager for this all to be the work of ghosts when it scares you shitless every single time.”

“What about the time the spirit box said your name?”

“Peeta,” she says with a strained laugh. “It said, Can’t Miss. As in, the District 12 Mockingjays Can’t Miss. It was a snippet of a goddamn basketball ad. It’s on the radio all the time on game days.”

“Yeah, and the spirit box allows ghosts to use radio waves to communicate. Of course it wasn’t going to find Katniss — who the hell’s advertising katniss? — so it picked the next best thing.”

“I’ll just sit here and wait for them to use a snippet of a pita bread company ad to talk to you, then.”

He glares at the back of her head. “I’m sure they would, if there was a pita factory nearby that advertised.”

She rolls her eyes. “Come on, Peeta. Let’s go find you a ghost.” She lifts a camera to her eyes and kicks the heavy mahogany door open and flicks on the gently swinging chandelier light.

“Ghosts, spirits, urban legends and other assorted demonic entities, how are we all this evening?”

“Katniss,” he hisses as he closes the door. “Some respect, maybe?”

“What part was disrespectful? I covered, well, maybe not the full the spectrum of possible occupants, but definitely most of them, and asked how they were. Honestly if they’re not going to reply, they’re the disrespectful ones, not me.”

The light flickers out. Katniss snorts. Peeta lets out a squeak he’s not proud of.

“She doesn’t mean it,” Peeta calls frantically. “For the love of God, she doesn’t mean it. I’m sure you’re all lovely and polite.”

The light flickers weakly and comes back on. The chandelier fitting swings like a pendulum, casting stretching and receding shadows over the white-sheet covered lounges and a thick, dark coffee table.

“What the hell do you call that, Katniss?”

“Shoddy wiring?” She shrugs. “Peeta, this house is about a century old. Probably more, actually.”

“Madge said it was renovated and rewired two years ago.”

She shrugs again. “Rats? Raccoons, maybe? That would explain the supposedly unexplainable shuffling sounds Madge thinks she hears.”

Now he rolls his eyes. “Why am I married to you, again?”

“Because divorce is costly and time consuming,” she says, kissing his cheek. “Besides, my logic goes well with your fatalistic romanticism.”

“None of that’s going to matter when this house goes all Poltergeist and swallows us.”

“Then what a good thing it is that that’s never going to happen.” She plonks herself down on one of the lounges and sets a pair of small motion-sensing cameras pointing at each entrance. Peeta swallows and hitches a thumb towards the kitchen.

“I’m… uh, gonna look around for a bit.”

“All right,” Katniss says absently. “Scream if you need me.”

“Will do.”

That dread in his stomach recedes and grows with each room he enters. He doesn’t feel anything wrong with the kitchen, or the dining room, but as he ventures up the staircase to the bedrooms, he swears he can feel something weighty on his shoulders.

A sound like a dry, rattling whisper like nails on paper echoes through the long hall leading to the attic entrance. Peeta gulps. “Hello?” He thumbs open the recording app on his phone and turns it on. “Is anyone there?”

The whispering sound grows. It doesn’t sound like words, exactly. At least, not words that he knows. They race up and along his spine until it sounds like they’re shouting in his ear.

Peeta squeaks, jumps about a foot in the air, and something skitters past, too fast to see. A wave of cold washes over him, settling in icicles on his bones, and for a moment he stands stock still, not even breathing…

Another whisper, one that sounds very, unnervingly close to hello, and he sprints back down the stairs to the living room, triggering the motion sensors into a high-pitched beeping sound.

Katniss bolts upright. “What the hell is going on?”

“Kat, were you… God, were you sleeping?” he asks, aghast.

“What? It’s boring down here.” She blinks blearily up at him. “Are you okay?”

“There… there’s something up there.”

“Something as in actually something? Or something like your imagination run wild?”

“Something like… it was making the strangest whispery, scratchy noises. I thought they were words, but… and then, something just… ran right past me. I didn’t see, but it was so so fast, and I —”

“Peeta, it’s probably vermin. And the wind. And just… a bit of everything coming together to make you think it’s ghosts when it’s… just, not.”

But his hands are shaking, and his pulse is more like one long thud instead of lots of little ones. “I just… I don’t…”

She rolls her eyes. “Would it make you feel better if I went and checked? You can stay here with these stupid motion sensors; they’re only picking up bugs, anyway.”

“No. No, I’ll go with you,” he says, setting a fist against his chest like that’ll do any good against his heart’s very valiant escape attempt. “Just in case.”

“Right,” she drawls, “just in case the wind gets me.”

He follows a step behind her, through the kitchen, down the corridor, and up the stairs. He doesn’t feel quite as heavy this, time, either. She cracks open every door they pass, six unused bedrooms, three bathrooms, two studys, and a small library, all silent. They’re left with one room at the very end. As she opens the final door, the whispering starts again, and a low moan like racing wind echoes.

She steps in, and he turns on the light. The room is huge, but full. A writing desk sits in the far corner, and a neatly-made four-poster bed occupies the other corner. Beside the door, a seated vanity with a wide, oval mirror wiped free of dust. On its table, a collection of large and small hairbrushes, and an open box filled with tangled threads and needles and buttons and snippets of fabric. But none of those things holds Peeta’s focus for long.

Instead, he stares at a wide cabinet spanning nearly the whole length of the back wall, covered so densely in dolls of every conceivable material, fabric and wool, porcelain and plastic. The whispering is almost deafening, and every time Peeta turns his head to look somewhere else, he could swear the dolls are twitching, blinking, watching.

“Did, uh, Madge ever mention the doll collection?”

Katniss scowls at the dolls. “She might’ve? I don’t really remember.”

“Oh, I don’t think you would have forgotten something like this,” Peeta retorts.

“I… well, yeah, this is definitely weird, but I don’t think we can call it haunted, or otherworldly.”

“What the hell else would you call it?”

“Any number of perfectly reasonable and logical things, Peeta. Mrs. Undersee likes weird, creepy dolls; what more can you say?”

“Don’t call them weird and creepy.” He sets a finger against her lips. “I’ve read about haunted dolls. If you’re not respectful, they might curse you.”

She rolls her eyes, but nods all the same. He doesn’t take his eyes off hers as he lowers his finger and shoves his hands in his pockets.

He turns back to the dolls, and clears his throat. “Uh, we mean no harm or anything. It’s just… you’ve kind of been terrifying my friend and her parents, and we’d like you to please stop. Please.”

Katniss whispers, “You already said please.”

“Can’t hurt to say it twice.”

“Did you bring the, uh… the thing? You know, the thing that reads the waves or whatever it was?”

He shoots her a dour look. “You mean the EMF?”

“Yeah, that. Do you have it?”

“No, I don’t.” He sighs. “It would have been in the pack with the motion sensors, so it’s still downstairs.”

“Spirit box?”

“In the pack, too.”

She surveys him strangely, arms crossed over her chest. “You really didn’t come prepared, did you?”

“I was prepared! I just… didn’t think I’d be accosted in the very first hallway I went into.”

She snorts. “Yeah, well, maybe next time you’ll think —” She stops, freezes, eyes riveted on something Peeta can’t see. His heart thumps harder and louder than he’s ever felt before.

“Uh, Katniss? Is something wrong.”

“Peeta,” she says, deadpan.

“What?”

“Look over there, in the gap between the cabinet and the desk. See that?”

He does see that. He backs up so hard he’s going to have a massive bruise on his ass from the vanity he’s just about knocked over. “Holy shi — Are those… are those eyes?”

“Yeah, they’re eyes. You wanna know what kind of eyes?” She picks up a hairbrush from the vanity stand next to them and hurls it at the gap.

“Goddamn raccoon eyes, Peeta,” she says as the small pack of raccoons scatter. “There’s probably holes in the drywall or something, hence your scratchy whispers.”

“I… oh.”

“Yeah, oh. Raccoons, Peeta. Ninety-five percent of the time, it’s probably rats or raccoons.”

“It wasn’t rats or raccoons in that place in District 10.”

“That… was an outlier of a house, I’ll give you that, but it was probably still just people. Very strange, very creepy people.” She nudges him gently with her elbow and cocks her head to the door. “Come on, we should try and see if we can find the holes they were coming in through.”

“You want to do home repairs?”

“Hey, we promised Madge an exorcism, didn’t we? This is just a different kind of exorcism.”

She hooks her arm in his, and they leave the doll room together. A sound like bye follows them out, but this time he can ignore it. Raccoons. Obviously.

“Why do you come with me to these things?” he asks when they reach the bottom of the stairs.

“Peeta,” she says seriously. “Know that I say this with all the love in my heart… you would die if I didn’t come with you.”

“If I did die, I would so mercilessly haunt your ass.”

She pats his arm, shakes her head. “No, you wouldn’t, Peeta. Ghosts aren’t real.”

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #fan fic #by ally147writes

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everlarkbirthdaygifts · 3 years

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Happy Birthday, d1163!

Happy belated Birthday, @d1163! We hope you had a wonderful day back on the 3rd, and got exactly the presents you were hoping for! To bring your party back around, the lovely @endlessnightlock has written a story just for you!

“I shouldn’t be very long,” I tell Madge, standing in front of my apartment doorway as I fidget with the purse strap hanging over my shoulder. I have a parent-teacher conference tonight at Prim’s school, and since I can’t take her with me, Madge will stay here while I’m gone. “Just make sure to lock the door when I leave- I’ll call you when I get back so you can unlock it for me.” I really should get a key made for her; she’s here so much.

Madge shrugs, tipping her smooth blond head to the side, leaning her shoulder against the doorway of the apartment I share with my sister.

I appreciate my best friend’s help- I’ve had to rely on her to help me with Prim quite a bit lately; bless her, she never complains.

“It doesn’t matter when you get back. Primmy and I have a full schedule for the night, don’t we?” she says as my sister appears in the doorway behind her with her twin blond braids hanging down her back. I swear the two of them look more alike than Prim and I ever will, but we are only half-sisters; Prim’s the product of my Mom’s second marriage.

“We’re going to give each other pedicures,” Madge continues. “In fact, why don’t you go out and do something by yourself while you’re gone? Go window shopping- or maybe you’ll meet a cute single dad you can ask out for drinks.”

I frown at her. My best friend has been encouraging me to “get back into the dating game” for a while now, no matter how often I reiterate I’m not interested. My plate is more than full since we lost Mom and her husband a few years ago, leaving me as Prim’s sole guardian.

Besides, my sister is only eight- she needs all of my attention right now, no matter how often she tries to tell me otherwise.

Prim is just as bad as Madge the way she’s always saying I should find a guy. I know she’s hatched some sort of scheme to set me up with her new friend Kaylee’s dad. I’ve never met him but seeing as I’m twenty-two and the girls are eight; I imagine he’s way too old for me, even if I were interested in dating- which I am not.

“Yep,” Prim agrees, grinning up at Madge, “we’ll be just fine. So go, you know, get you some or something.”

“Get you some or something?” I repeat, frowning at first Prim and then Madge, who is the most obvious culprit in the guessing game of Who’s Teaching Prim Adult Expressions. “You shouldn’t say things if you don’t know what they mean, Prim.”

“I know what that means,” Prim rolls her eyes at me while I sputter in disbelief. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Don’t look at me!” Madge says when I glare at her, “I didn’t teach her anything. She’s just grown-up for her age, more than you were, Katniss. Now go-”

“And get me some?” I interrupt, eyes narrowed because I don’t trust Madge in this matter any further than I can throw her.

“No, you’d better go, or you’re going to be late for your parent-teacher conference, silly,” Madge says.

She’s still laughing when she shuts the door in my face.

There was no need for me to hurry because Ms. Trinket, Prim’s teacher, is still in a conference with another parent when I arrive at the school. I quickly realize she must be running even further behind that just with me because a man is waiting in the hallway as well.

“Hi,” he says, smiling warmly at me from his place against the cinder-block wall. I don’t recognize him, but he has to be one of the parents I haven’t met yet.

“Hey,” I reply, studying him briefly, then looking away before it becomes apparent I’m doing it. The man is good-looking, one of those muscular, compact-looking guys who aren’t super-tall but aren’t short either. He’s got wavy blond hair and blue eyes, and if I were to wager a guess at how old he is, I’d probably say early to mid-thirties.

“Who are you here for?” he asks conversationally, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I haven’t met a lot of the other parents yet.”

I shrug. I don’t usually make small-talk with men I don’t know, but he seems non-threatening.

Still, I hold back a bit- he’s attractive in a way that seems inappropriate for some reason. I guess I worry that he’s married or something; I don’t want to be that person who’s flirting with someone’s husband or partner.

Not that I’m flirting- I’m barely even talking to the guy, yeesh- way to overthink things, Katniss. “My sister is Prim Everdeen,” I explain, “I’m her guardian.”

“So you’re Katniss,” he says, eyes rounding in surprise- they’re kind of ridiculously blue and on the largeish side, so it’s a comical sight.

“That’s me.”

“I’m Kaylee’s dad- Peeta. Peeta Mellark.” He sticks out his hand for me to shake.

“Oh,” I answer. And then, like a nincompoop who’s caught off guard by this new information, and the fact that he’s trying to shake my hand, I go on- “you’re the one Prim is trying to set me up with.”

But instead of getting flustered (the way I am for saying something so dumb to an attractive, single man I just met and will probably see again after today), Peeta laughs, although he does drop his hand to his side. “So I wasn’t just imagining Kaylee talking up Prim’s sister then, huh?”

“Guess not. What, ah, what did your daughter say about me?”

Peeta smiles at me. “Just that you were young and pretty, and you’re a good sister to Prim.”

I feel myself blushing underneath his gaze. I wonder if he agrees with his daughter’s assessment of me. “I don’t know why they think they need to meddle in our lives, right?” I ask, trying to cover my embarrassment by keeping the conversation going.

“Because they love us, for some reason. I guess,” Peeta says.

I have to smile at that.

Behind us, the classroom door opens. Lavinia, one of the parents I know slightly, walks out of the room. I notice her studying Peeta for a moment, but when I say hello, she turns her attention to me as she leaves.

Ms. Trinket appears in the doorway a moment later. “Sorry about the hold-up, Katniss. I’m ready for you now. Mr. Mellark,” she says, seemingly surprised to see him waiting in the hall as well, “what are you doing here now?”

Peeta looks confused. “My conference was scheduled for five, or at least I thought so. That’s what the paper Kaylee brought home said.”

“No, mine’s at five,” I say, “unless there was some kind of mistake.”

Ms. Trinket frowns at us both. “I’m not sure where the mix-up happened, but I don’t have you scheduled for today, Peeta. However, if you have time to wait, I can squeeze you in once I’m done with Katniss.”

He quickly agrees. “I’m already here, so if you don’t mind, I’ll just wait.”

“Sounds good. Are you ready, Katniss?”

I follow Ms. Trinket into the room as Peeta pulls his cell out of his back pocket.

I walk out of the classroom about twenty minutes later, following a brief meeting.

Thankfully, Ms. Trinket didn’t have any significant concerns about Prim this year. I knew my sister’s grades were pretty good, so I wasn’t concerned with that, but Ms. Trinket also backed-up my opinion that Prim’s been getting along well with most of the class. Despite everything she’s been through with losing our mom, it’s a relief to be reassured by someone else that my sister is doing okay. I worry all the time about whether or not I’m doing a good enough job with her- a little outside validation is more than welcome.

Peeta smiles at me when I glance his way. He’s still leaning against the cinderblock wall in the same position I left him in.

Ms. Trinket asked me to let him know she was ready for him, so we have the hall to ourselves.

“Get to the bottom of things?” I ask, slowing down to talk to him.

I’d be lying if I said Peeta hadn’t crossed my mind once or twice while I was talking to Ms. Trinkett. He might be quite a bit older than me, but there’s something about him that draws me to him. He’s handsome, but the attraction isn’t just about his looks. I don’t know- maybe the way Prim has talked about “Kaylee’s dad” is influencing my decision, but there is just an innate kindness about him that piques my interest.

“Yeah,” he says, straightening up and running a hand through his hair. He sighs. “Kaylee confessed- she planned it with Prim. Look, I’m sorry. You’re a beautiful young woman, and I know I’m way too old for you-”

“No, you’re not,” I interrupt, surprising both him and myself. I’m not always good at speaking up, but it’s usually a doozy when I do. Peeta doesn’t say anything to refute me, though.

It’s true; I don’t’ think he’s too old to pass up giving a shot. Peeta’s the first guy who’s interested me in a ridiculously long time, even if he’s at least ten years older than I am. I mean, most guys my age are pretty immature; they all seem to be looking out for themselves. That’s just not something I can get into at this point in my life- I can’t deal with immature boy drama and Prim. Peeta seems like he would be pretty drama-free, and he’s certainly not a boy.

His grin widens. “I’m not?”

I shake my head. “No, you’re not. Do I seem too young for you?”

“No,” Peeta admits quietly, “you don’t.”

I decide just to spit it out- a guy who’s worth anything has to like assertive women, and I’m not into playing games. “Do you want to go get coffee or something after your conference?”

He nods. “I’d love to.”

I know all of this is forward, but what harm can it do to get to know Peeta a little better? I’m not committing to anything, and If nothing else, I’ll make a friend, and Prim and his daughter can rest easy knowing we gave their plan a chance. Plus, I have a feeling our schedules were both cleared on purpose.

I can’t help but think of Madge telling me I should go out and have a drink with a cute single dad. “She was in on it the whole time,” I say, laughing under my breath.

“What’s that?” Peeta asks.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Do you want to meet me at The Bean Counter in half an hour?” I ask, naming the coffee shop a few blocks away from the elementary school.

“Sounds good,” he agrees.

After a little awkward wave at each other, we part ways. Peeta goes into the classroom for his conference with Ms. Trinket, and I head out to my car.

I can’t decide if I should call Madge to bawl her out for this or ask for advice on what to do. It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a date, even if it is just for coffee.

Ultimately, I do neither. Madge and Prim told me not to worry about coming right back, so I don’t even call them to let them know I’ll be home late. I figure they can just sit and wonder what I’ve gotten into tonight.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #fan fic #by endlessnightlock

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everlarkbirthdaygifts · 3 years

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Happy Birthday, amazinglovers747!

Happy Birthday, @amazinglovers747! We hope you’ve had a wonderful day so far, and you got exactly the presents you were hoping for! To keep your party going a little while longer, the lovely @endlessnightlock has written a story just for you!

Happy Birthday! This fic is rated E for explicit sexual content and swearing. There are also mentions of Covid home-quarantine if anyone is trying to avoid that subject right now; it's not a big plot point, just a means to the end.

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Johanna slid onto the stool next to Katniss at the breakfast bar She casually grabbed her wrist, temporarily holding her prisoner.

“Hey!” Katniss cried as Johanna raised her trapped hand and took a bite of the toast dangling between her fingers. Once she was free, in disgust, she flung it away. Johanna, of course, deftly snatched the toast mid-air before it had a chance to land on the kitchen floor.

“You do remember we’re in the middle of a pandemic, don’t you? We shouldn’t be eating after each other! Are you trying to get sick?”

Johanna rolled her eyes as she stood, her crunchy, perfectly browned spoils in hand as she moved to the sink. “And we live together, brainless. We’re around each other all the time, so it’s not like we’re not swimming around in each other’s germs already.” She took another bite of the toast, letting it dangle from her mouth as she poured herself some coffee. ”If one of us gets sick, we're all going to.”

“Speak for yourself,” Finnick said, rounding the corner next to the refrigerator. He had a towel slung low over his hips, barely in place, casually rubbing another one across his hair. “I keep myself in peak physical condition, just for such a reason. My body is a perfect, well-oiled machine. I don’t have time to get sick- I can’t deprive the world just because of something like COVID; after all, I’m already covering my face when I go out. That’s enough of a loss.”

Katniss ignored him- this was just typical Finnick Odair nonsense, same as the display of skin. Neither was anything new. When she first moved into this place a year ago, it’d been an adjustment, to say the least, getting used to all the nudity that went on within its walls.

It wasn’t like Katniss was ashamed of her body or anything; she looked okay, she guessed. She’d just never met two less-shy people in her life than Finnick and Johanna. Neither had a problem walking around the apartment half-dressed or worse at any hour of the day.

Katniss had lost count of the number of times she’d seen Finnick’s bare ass or watched Johanna casually stroll around naked in the girls’ shared bathroom while one of the other of them was getting ready in the morning.

At least it’s not Peeta walking around naked; Katniss thought as that squirmy, ticklish feeling reared its head the way it did every time she thought of her third roommate. That would be sensory overload.

Not that she wouldn’t want to see Peeta in the buff (lord knew she did), she'd just prefer that happen in private.

It might seem strange while living with easily the most handsome man she’d ever met (Finnick was vain, but honestly, she didn’t blame him; if she were that attractive, Katniss would probably be the same), she couldn’t keep thoughts of her other roommate from sneaking in.

She had the worst crush on Peeta. Shamefully, he was who she thought of when she, ahh, took care of her own needs. It was so disrespectful of their friendship, but Katniss couldn’t stop herself from fantasizing about him.

Speaking of which-

There was Peeta too, yawning against the back of his hand as he slumped down onto the stool beside her.

“Morning,” Katniss told him softly, touching his elbow in greeting.

He smiled at her, shifting on the stool to get comfortable before pushing an errant strand of wavy hair out of his face.

Katniss wished she could do that herself- she had such an urge to touch Peeta’s hair. His blond waves were so fluffy-looking and soft, and he hadn’t had a haircut in ages; his barber shop was shut down for the pandemic.

She could tell the length was starting to get on Peeta’s nerves, although he didn't say it. He typically kept his hair just long enough to be manageable, not those long, wavy bangs that were currently hanging in his eyes. Katniss would ask him if he wanted one of her ponytail holders to pull it back, but the idea of him with a douchey man-bun was revolting.

Finnick turned around, squinting disapprovingly around the protein drink he held up to his lips as he studied Peeta carefully. “You need a haircut,” he finally said, ”that mop looks terrible.”

”Thanks a lot, Captain Obvious,” Katniss grumbled, scowling at the side of Finnick’s ridiculously handsome face. He was so annoying with his fastidiousness sometimes: not everyone was that worried about their appearance.

Peeta took his teasing in stride, though. “Yeah, but what am I supposed to do? We're quarantining. Besides- I’m working from home. Who’s going to see me? Just the rest of my department at our Zoom meetings, and they look as shitty as I do. Seneca Crane has two inches of white hair coming in at his roots.”

“I bet that’s a look,” Johanna quipped.

Peeta’s supervisor was an asshat of epic proportions.

She picked up her travel mug. “I gotta go; I have to be in early today.”

“You don’t look shitty,” Katniss reassured Peeta once Johanna left.

“No, he’s right,” he sighed, crossing his arms on the counter and burying his face there.

Katniss shot a scowl at Finnick as he breezed by; he winked at her and she rolled her eyes. The back of Finnick’s towel was slipping off, giving her a view of spray-tanned ass cheek as he headed back to his room to get ready for work himself.

“Covid certainly isn’t stopping Finnick from keeping up with his salon-services, is it?” she muttered once he was gone. “That’s ridiculous, even from him.”

“I think he’s got a thing going on with the tech,” Peeta told her, looking up again. “Annie, I think he said her name is? If they’re fucking the way he insinuates like they are-”

Katniss felt her whole body flame as that word slipped from his mouth. Peeta didn’t swear very often, so that made it a thousand times hotter when it happened. She could feel her body tensing from one pass of the word fuck from his lips. It didn’t hurt that they were alone, and Peeta was grinning conspiratorially at her.

When he leaned closer, she could feel the warmth from his body and smell his soap-and-Peeta-scent. It was too distracting-

“Katniss?” He was staring at her questioningly. His lips turned up in a little smile, and his eyes crinkled in the corners the way they did when he was genuinely amused by something and not just being polite- something he thankfully never did to her. “Are you alright? Lost you there for a minute, I think.”

“Sorry. ” Katniss had been so distracted by his nearness she’d zoned out on the tail end of what he was saying. ”Finnick and Annie are fucking-” Her brain was absolutely not keeping up with her mouth.

She had to get out of here before something stupid came out.

“Yeah, just um; I’ve got to go use the bathroom,” Katniss said, sliding off the barstool like her seat was burning, making her escape.

“Are you going to be around today?” Peeta asked as she inched away from him.

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and started scrolling, as she held her breath. Finally, after what felt like tense silence to her but didn’t seem to phase him a bit, Peeta glanced up, waiting for her answer.

“I’m not working today.”

“I might need your help with something later,” he said, glancing down at his phone screen again. “If you don’t mind.”

She let out the breath she’d been holding. “No, that’s okay. Just come find me when you need me.”

“Thanks.”

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A few hours later, a little rat-a-tat-tat sounded on her bedroom door.

“Katniss?” Peeta called from the hallway, “are you busy now? I was wondering if I could get your help.”

Katniss sat up on her bed, tossing aside the book she’d spent the last hour or so trying to read after running to her room to hide. She stood up, straightening her clothes as she walked towards the door. Peeta was on the other side when she opened it, grinning at her, wearing boxer briefs and an undershirt.

“Hey,” Katniss said, crossing her arms over her chest. She tried to sound casual and not at all like she had to force herself to keep her eyes on his face.

But then, she couldn’t take her eyes off his face because something was different-

“I’m giving myself a haircut,” Peeta explained, running a hand through the blond waves on top of his head. The hair around his face was shorter and somewhat even, but the back still long- it didn’t look like he’d done anything to it at all. “Would you help me do the rest? I’m afraid I’ll screw it up if I try and finish it on my own.”

“I’ve never cut anyone’s hair-” that and the fact that she probably wouldn't be able to breathe standing that close to him.

“You’ll do a better job than I would, at least,” Peeta reassured her. “Besides, if it’s awful, I’ll just shave my head and start over.”

Katniss frowned at him. “Like that’s not putting any pressure on me!” The last thing she wanted him to do was shave his head- that would be a disgrace to such a nice head of hair.

“Maybe I’ll just shave it anyway. If you don’t help me, I will. I can’t walk around with a mullet.”

His hair was a baby mullet right now- she had to agree. At the least, it looked like that dark-haired guy from Hall & Oates.

”It’s just hair. Besides, what harm can it do? It’ll grow back,” he went on.

Katniss frowned at him for a minute, to no avail. When he refused to give her an easy out, she sighed resignedly. “Fine. I’ll try it.”

“Atta-girl,” Peeta cheered her on as she followed him down the hall to the bathroom. “What harm can it do?”

kpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkp

What harm can it do? Oh, a hell of a lot, to her nerves, at least.

When they reached the bathroom, Peeta sat down on the closed toilet lid and promptly reached behind his back, pulling his shirt off in that one-armed way guys have that made his biceps and shoulders and abs bunch before tugging the material over his head.

Dear god, give her strength-

And then he just sat there smiling up at her like it was perfectly normal to be hanging out in his underwear, waiting for her to put her hands on him.

Not that she was putting her hands on Peeta per se, only his hair.

Katniss let out a shaky breath. How was she going to do this? To cut his hair, she was going to have to stand just inches away from him like that. At least if she were doing the back, his eyes wouldn’t be on her, she told herself. That was some consolation.

“I don’t want to get any hair on my clothes,” Peeta explained with a shrug. “Maybe I should’ve got a trash bag or something to cover up with.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Katniss said, berating for getting so flustered. She reminded herself to breathe and, under no circumstances, let him see the way he was affecting her. They were friends- this wasn’t so outrageous. She was the one with hangups about semi-nudity. “Where are the scissors?” she asked, looking away from him.

“On the counter,” he said, indicating the sink with a tilt of his head.

She walked over to grab them.

“Do you have a bra on?” Peeta asked casually, just as her hands closed around the scissors.

It was the worst timing; Katniss nearly stabbed herself, trying to correct her grip on them when she dropped them in surprise. “What?”

“I can’t always tell- you’re not very big-”

Katniss frowned down at her hand. She briefly considered stabbing a particular roommate, who was currently lounging around in his underwear, in the side of his neck with the scissors.

That was a shitty thing to say about her chest- it fucking hurt, actually, sending her confidence in an immediate nosedive down the staircase of self-respect. Okay, yeah, her breasts weren’t massive by any means, but she was petite; what kind of a jerk thought he had the right to say something like that? She was just fine, proportion-wise-

Peeta laughed nervously. “I’m an idiot, Katniss. What I meant to say was you’re perky. I can’t always tell whether you’re wearing a bra or not.”

“Why exactly are we talking about my breasts?” She managed to get out, between frustration and, yes, uncertainty, because she could never un-know that Peeta had spent enough time thinking about her breasts to describe them as “perky,” and that meant he’d been thinking about her, right?

Did that mean he was looking at her the same way she looked at him? Katniss doubted that- she’d think she’d notice, but still.

Either way, she told herself, this had to be a personal all-time-low for her.

But then again, it was Peeta, and he was her friend. And friends could joke around with each other about breasts, right? It didn’t have to be a huge deal.

Right?

“If you are wearing a bra, you could take your shirt off. I figured you might not want to get hair all over your clothes either,” Peeta ran a hand through his hair again. He seemed nervous, which wasn’t like him. “I’m not trying to get you naked or anything-“

Katniss was sure her heart was going to explode out of her chest at any minute, a ticking time bomb waiting for one more word or action from Peeta. She was so confused.

But then she relaxed- she had on a sports bra; it was no less than what she would wear when they went running together, so she peeled her shirt over her head without thought. Why not- it was still more than Johanna or Finnick would wear on any given day, and it’d never bothered those two.

Katniss picked the scissors up off the counter again before stepping towards Peeta. “Any requests?” she asked, clicking them a little, trying to lighten the mood.

He turned around, presenting her with his back, and she didn’t think she’d imagined the way his eyes lingered on her chest before he moved. She watched the rise and fall of Peeta’s shoulders as he shrugged. “No, just try to get it a little shorter. It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

A loaded sort of silence descended on them as she assessed the back of Peeta’s head. The only sounds in the room were slightly strangled breathing coming from him; she kind of reveled in the sound- it meant he had to be at least a little affected by her proximity, too.

Finally, Katniss began. She grasped a handful of his hair to get a feel for it. His blond strands were soft, curling around her fingers, and when she grazed her nails across his scalp accidentally, Peeta shuddered.

“That tickled a little,” his voice sounded strained. Katniss could make out the rough bobbing-up-and-down of Peeta’s Adam’s apple when he swallowed.

She continued cutting his hair in silence, little snips here and there. She trimmed it slowly, savoring the moment, trying to get it short around the edges, being extra careful around the back of his ears and the base of his neck.

The air in the room grew more charged between them as the clock on the wall ticked the seconds by, still the only sound to be heard.

Katniss found that the ever-present awareness of him made it difficult to speak. There was a trace of yesterday’s cologne on his skin, and standing so close to him, looking at the arms and shoulders and back that she wanted nothing more than to run her hands over was driving her crazy. The temptation was so strong- what would he do if she buried her face in his hair or kissed that space between his shoulder blades that called to her?

“I think I’m all done,” she told Peeta after fighting off the temptation. She hardly recognized the sound of her voice, shaky and low as she forced her hands back, curling them tightly into fists to keep from touching him.

Katniss stepped back, giving him some room to turn around. She crossed her arms over her stomach anxiously while Peeta got up and walked to the mirror. He brushed past her quickly, but it wasn’t fast enough to ignore the tingle at the place of contact.

Katniss placed one hand over her throat. She was freaking out- her pulse was beating so rapidly she was sure it was visible beneath the thin skin at her neck.

When Peeta reached the mirror, he glanced at himself while she watched him in the mirror’s reflection. The color in his face was high, but he was so fair-skinned he couldn’t hide a blush to save his life. After the agonizing silence went on longer than she could stand, Katniss looked away and reached for her shirt. She needed to get away from him before she did something stupid like kiss him or cry.

“I think it might be a little uneven in the front.” Peeta stopped her, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror when she looked up. “Would you take a little more off the front for me?”

She nodded. She still didn’t trust herself to speak.

Peeta sat down on the toilet seat again- but this time, he faced her head-on without moving. She inched closer and closer, and when she got close enough that her legs were just grazing his knees, it sent a shiver through her body.

He took her hand, and widening his legs, urged her to stand between them.

Katniss moved closer, refusing to look below his shoulders; she was unsure what she would do if the outline of an erection were visible against the material of his grey boxer briefs. She had an almost-sickening (because the possibilities excited and scared her in equal measure) feeling that was precisely what she’d find.

“You’re so little, I didn’t know if you could reach me standing over there,” he explained. His voice was husky. The sound was as sexy as hell.

Katniss wondered how Peeta was taking her silence as she moved closer to him. She was on edge and hot all over. With the first puff of his breath on her skin, though, she shivered. Staring down at the top of his head and trying to control her breathing, she debated where exactly she should start cutting this time. Eventually, she just started taking tiny snips out of the crown and sides of his hair.

Katniss had no idea where any of this tension was going to take them and no close what his hair would look like, either.

It was almost impossible to focus on what she was doing with the way his warm breath fluttered against her body.

It felt like his eyes were boring into her skin.

Torture: that’s what this would get labeled under, she decided. Shirtless time with Peeta spent giving him a haircut would be a prominent feature in her future spank bank. And unlike her other moments, at least this part of it was real. Her brain could fill in the fantasy portion long after it was over.

Peeta sighed, and the sound was different, almost resigned. Before she had a chance to say something to him, though, his hands were at her waist, just above the band of her sleep shorts. She froze mid-snip, scissors dangling awkwardly between her fingers.

“Katniss?”

“Hmm,” she said, because this felt so good it couldn’t be real, and if she said something, it might be over. Also, her brain pretty much felt like mashed potatoes: fluffy and warm, but not possessing any higher-reasoning ability.

“Is this okay?” he asked, fingers just pressing into her skin.

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but look down at his familiar blue eyes.

Peeta stared at her, and there was something there distinctly begging her not to reject him. He finally dropped his hands when the silence dragged on for too long- it was only then Katniss found her voice again.

“No, don’t stop. Please.”

It must’ve been just enough encouragement because he was pressing his lips against the space between her breasts before she could blink. “Oh god,” she whispered into the top of his head. His lips on her body had to be the best thing she’d ever felt, soft and warm.

Peeta pulled her closer, and she let him take the scissors out of her hand when he reached for them. It was probably a good thing- she’d forgotten she was still holding them.

He dropped the scissors on the bathroom floor, and they made a clinking sound hitting the tile, barely audible over their heavy breathing.

Peeta trailed his lips up her neck and across her jaw while his hands were at her hips and thighs, caressing her smooth skin, pushing up beneath the flimsy material of her sleep shorts.

Finally, their lips met, and Katniss wrapped her arms around Peeta’s neck, melting against him- at least as much as she could while he was sitting on a toilet, anyway. But who cared where they were? He was kissing her, she was kissing him, and it was all glorious.

It wasn’t long before things grew heated between them; the flood of repressed longing came out in a rush of touches and words:

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long-”

“You have no idea-”

More kissing, more hands moving everywhere.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” he asked, finally.

Katniss nodded, breathing against his mouth. Things were moving fast, and she didn’t want to stop, but they probably shouldn’t be doing this here. Maybe somewhere else that wasn’t too far away, though. “Shower?” she asked.

“Fuck, please. Yes,” he muttered, standing up quickly. He caught her off guard but was then walking her backward, taking her with him, stumbling towards the shower. When they made it there, still upright, Peeta reached around the curtain and turned the water on. Katniss pulled her bra off, and her shorts and underwear quickly followed behind as he shoved his underwear down his legs.

And then they were both bare. How had this happened so fast?

But she didn’t have much of a chance to dwell on things because Peeta’s naked body was pressed against hers, sending sensation through her every limb, every inch. Not to mention, his hands were everywhere.

She loved his hands.

“Let’s get in,” Katniss mumbled against his mouth, just keeping herself from kissing him long enough that they wouldn’t end up horizontal on the bathroom floor.

After checking the temperature, Peeta yanked the curtain back and pulled Katniss inside the shower, beneath the warm spray with him. She expected something fast and hard to happen because they were both so worked up, but instead, the act of getting into the shower slowed them down. They were still kissing, wet and slow and deep, until Peeta backed away from kissing her long enough to lean his forehead against hers and stare down at her.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he finally said, his hand trailing up her thigh, his touch so inexplicably gentle, worshipful. Peeta slid up her belly, stopping to cup her breasts. He kissed her deeply before running his thumb across her nipple. “You’re sexy everywhere, but these are spectacular.”

Katniss gasped against his mouth when he pinched her lightly. “Not too small?” she asked, half-laughing at her question. With the way Peeta seemed enthralled with her, she wasn’t concerned. It was quite the opposite. She’d never felt so comfortable or confident with a guy before.

“That was so stupid-”

“It’s fine.” She let her hand skate down his hip, and he pressed his lower half against her thigh in response.

“I’m just teasing you,” Katniss said, as she ran her lips down at his neck, sighing against his wet skin. His body was gorgeous- not hours spent working out at the gym perfect like Finnick’s, but because he was real and muscular, and it was Peeta, and she’d wanted him forever.

She couldn’t believe he wanted her too. “You wouldn’t just do this with just any girl who cut your hair, would you- spectacular breasts or no?”

“Why do you think I asked you to take your shirt off?”

“So, you were trying to get me naked!”

They did laugh then, lips and teeth bumping together as he kissed her. It only lasted until his hand moved down between her thighs, cupping her sex. Katniss stood on her toes and kissed him deeply, and he took the cue to delve further when she widened her stance. He slid his fingers between her lips, touching her where she was swollen and achy for him.

“You feel so good,” Peeta said, stroking lightly, “you’re so wet.” His fingers brushed against her clit, giving her a teasing little swipe around it that made Katniss bite her lip. “Feel good?” he asked.

“Yes,” she mumbled, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back against the shower wall.

Peeta kissed the side of her neck as he touched her, sliding his fingers through her folds and around her opening, dipping inside of her before pulling out to rub a little more firmly with each forward pass, until her hips were chasing after his fingers each time he moved them away. Finally, tired of his teasing, Katniss scrabbled at his hand, squeezing his wrist to let him know he needed to stay there until further notice.

Soon, with Peeta’s wrist still in a death grip between her thighs, his fingers rubbing quickly at her nerve bundle in an on-again, off-again motion, Katniss cried softly, dropping his wrist when she began to climax. She slumped against his body as he thrust two thick fingers deep inside of her, burying her nose against his chest as she pulsed around them. Peeta kept pumping his fingers in and out of her, fucking her with them.

Katniss was still catching her breath, mouth hanging open against his shoulder where beads of moisture left his skin slick to the touch when he pulled his fingers out of her. She looked up at him when she could focus again, her lids heavy, her body heavy and muscles relaxed from release.

Peeta was staring down at her, his gaze intense.

“What do you like?” Katniss asked shyly. She straightened up the best she could, a little wobbly on her feet and wondering exactly how it was that people had shower sex.

Peeta cut her words off with a quick kiss, and while she was kissing him back, he took her hand and wrapped it around his cock. “Let’s just go with this, okay?” he said, his eyes searching hers. “I’m not in any big hurry, are you?”

This part felt like Peeta too (and she didn’t mean his very hard, very thick cock in her hand); the not pushing her, not being in any kind of a rush to move things fast. Katniss knew he was a methodical guy, and the thought of what that could mean sex-wise with him was kind of thrilling.

Absolutely nothing seemed wrong with just fooling around for now. It made Katniss’s core ache all over again, just running her hand up and down his shaft rubbing her thumb across the broad head of his cock.

Her jaw went slack as she pumped Peeta to completion- it was better than any fantasy she’d ever had about him. His eyes were closed, one hand on her breast and one at her hip, when his face contorted in ecstasy. She watched his abdomen flutter and felt his cock tense. He throbbed in her hand as his cum came spurting out over the top of her fist like a fountain. Peeta moaned her name as he came apart, his hips rocking in time with the pulsing of his cock. It was easily the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.

And the best part was Katniss knew they had the apartment to themselves all day.

She had every intention of taking advantage of it. “Come on,” she said to Peeta, turning off the water and flinging the curtain back once he recovered, “my bedroom, now.”

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #fan fic #by endlessnightlock

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everlarkbirthdaygifts · 4 years

Text

Happy Birthday, kelskels95!

Happy Birthday, @kelskels95! We hope you’ve got a wonderful day planned, with a delicious cake to look forward to at the end! To start your party off right, the lovely @endlessnightlock has written a story just for you!

This fic is part two of something I wrote for Everlarkbirthdaygifts a few months ago- you can find a link to that story here; this part is based on the 1952 John Wayne/Maureen O’Hara movie The Quiet Man, which is set in Ireland during the 1920s.

John Wayne plays a disgraced former boxer who moves to his family’s homeland for peace after accidentally killing a man in the ring. Maureen O’Hara is his tempestuous love interest. It’s a fun, beautiful, very romantic, and funny (she is a real hothead in the film, and they have great on-screen chemistry) movie that I highly recommend.

I hope you enjoy this little homage to The Quiet Man.

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“Ah-ah-ah,” Haymitch stops me in my tracks when he glances over his shoulder and locks eyes with me. The village drunk is certainly the laughing stock of this little sheep-farming bit of countryside where I’ve been living for the last six months, so I wait, fully expecting him to crack a joke and cut the tension suddenly formed between us.

I wait, and Haymitch waits. He doesn’t smile- instead, he stares me down as if I were a thief flinching his best white liquor from his cabinet in the middle of the night and not a man in the middle of courting a young lady, trying to lift her down from the buggy.

I guess even Haymitch takes some responsibilities seriously. I just wished for my own sake it wasn’t this particular responsibility. The confounding traditions these people have are outrageous enough on their own without his overbearing attitude. Back in the States, a guy could just pull up to a girl’s house, honk the horn, and wait for her to run out and meet him.

A fella wouldn’t be forced to sit on opposite facing seats in this “courting buggy,” driven around the countryside by the town drunk, unable to carry on any real conversation with his girl.

Not that I would ever honk for a girl, at least not for Katniss Everdeen, anyway. She is small and beautiful and fiery and has the loveliest grey eyes I’ve ever seen. I might have enough sense not to pull up to her door and honk my horn (I’d have to have a car in this country to do such a thing, anyway), but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to spend a little time alone with her, now that I’m officially seeing her.

Damn it all; there is an honest to God twinkle in Haymitch’s eyes when he addresses me again, but only after I’ve dropped my hands away from Katniss’s waist and stepped away from her. “Mr. Mellark-”

“My name is Peeta if you please. My father was Mr. Mellark,” I remind Haymitch, crossing my arms over my chest and staring back at him. I’m much bigger and stronger than him (I’m bigger and stronger than most men actually, or I wouldn’t have had the boxing career I left behind in the States), but that doesn’t deter him the least.

“Ms. Everdeen is a fine, healthy girl,” he continues, leaning back in his seat and waving his hands at us, his expression knowing, “and she is quite able to climb out of the buggy by herself. So there’ll be no need for any patty-fingers there, Mr. Mellark.”

I frown up at Haymitch and his sly words. There were no, as he implied, patty-fingers involved. I was simply grasping Katniss’s waist to help her get down from her side of the buggy. I know she is an excellent climber; I did just dislodge her hair and hat from a tall tree limb last week in the middle of a disastrous rescue of her sister’s cat.

All three of us are aware that we are doing today is simply an exercise in etiquette.

Katniss and I have spent this evening, our first official “courting” outing, chauffeured down the local countryside’s winding roads. It’s so beautiful in spring’s palates of greens-

(I love the beauty of this land. I don’t think I will ever tire of it- I’ve never seen such shades of green all my life. The land wasn’t like this back home in Chicago, but of course, when you grow up in an apartment above the family bakery, how is a fella to know what nature looks like? Sunday trips for a stroll around the park didn’t quite cut the mustard, either.

Here, the surroundings are a feast for the eyes. Everything is colored in varying shades of green, rolling on for miles and miles: the trees, the pastures, the pretty dress that Katniss is wearing today. It goes so smartly with her straw hat, which, I can’t help but notice, is the same one I had to help her dislodge from a tree branch just last Sunday. This place is serene and peaceful, exactly why I chose to come back to my ancestral home after leaving the boxing ring behind.)

- past neighbor’s farms, and stone fences as far as the eye could see. In his given role as one of the senior men (and the local drunk) in the village, Haymitch has driven Katniss and myself around. We are not to be alone together now that I am courting her- even though she has visited many times at my farm, alone, without any threat of ruination. The “courting” title is the only difference in any of it; I’ve wanted to kiss Katniss’s pert little mouth since the first time I laid eyes on her.

“Patty fingers?” I ask indignantly, although I do drop my hands from Katniss’s waist. A scowl forms on her lovely face, wrinkling her nose adorably.

“Quit your fussin’, boy. Now what I’m doing here, well, this is a good stretch of the road leading into town. I’ll let you do about a mile or so on your own; give you a chance to see how you feel walking together. I’ll be right behind you, so no funny business,” he directs. I move to put my hand on the small of Katniss’s back but am quickly tut-tutted by Haymitch. “Patty fingers!”

Katniss’s and my eyes meet, and she rolls her eyes at Haymitch’s evident enthusiasm for his task.

Ha- see if I’m eager to buy him another pint at the pub!

Instead of speaking, we walk close beside each other, not touching- the only sound the click of her low heels on the packed-dirt road. Once there is some distance between us and the buggy, I hear Haymitch make a clicking sound at the horses and snap the reins, and soon he is moving down the road, following us again.

At least this time, Haymitch is keeping a little distance- I know he is giving us some room to speak with each other, but I cannot think of a single thing to say to Katniss with an audience. We continue in silence, neither of us anxious to speak, which is unusual because I am quite the talker. Katniss, while not overly verbose, is rarely short of things to remark upon when she is alone with me.

Finally, I open my mouth. “You look lovely today, Katniss,” I say, admiring her because it is the truth, and you can never go wrong telling your girl she is lovely to you.

Her eyes skate over my frame quickly before she faces forward again. “Is that your best suit you’re wearing today, Peeta Mellark?” she asks, a grin forming at the corner of her mouth.

I smile at my full name crossing her lips; it reminds me of a prim schoolmistress- I like it very much. “Yes, it is my best suit, Katniss Everdeen,” I answer in kind. “Do I pass muster?”

Katniss’s eyes slide to the side; I catch her watching me. “It does look quite fine on you,” she says softly, glancing forward again.

I hear the buggy come to a halt behind us as Haymitch stops to speak to the vicar, so we stop in the road as well. Katniss faces me, and when our eyes lock, I have an overwhelming desire to be alone with her, talk with her, make her laugh, and maybe earn a chaste kiss. I want to know everything there is to know about Katniss Everdeen, and I cannot do any of those things with our chaperone in tow.

Although I would never say time spent with her is a waste, I am mourning the freedom of those evenings she would visit me at my farm, when we were alone to talk, even if it was only in the manner that friends do.

I sigh.

Katniss shrugs her shoulders. “This is quite ridiculous, isn’t it?” she bites back a smile. I think she’s growing as tired of the proprieties as I am.

“It is.” I agree. Neither Katniss nor I are youths needing looking after. I just passed my 26th birthday, and she is only a year younger than I am. Considering what I’ve been through in those short years, it’s been much longer than one would think since I’ve felt like a boy.

I catch sight of something then- a two-seater bicycle, leaning against the side of the pub, and it gives me an idea. “Can you ride?” I ask, nodding discreetly at the tandem. Katniss glances over her shoulder then, and so do I.

Haymitch remains in conversation with the vicar.

In unison, Katniss and I take off in a dead sprint for the tandem. Reaching it, I hop on the back of the two-seater bicycle, and she climbs onto the seat in front of me. Moments later, the two of us are riding the bike through the village on our escape route out of town, all to the sounds of Haymitch bellering indiscernibly behind us.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #fan fic #by endlessnightlock

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everlarkbirthdaygifts · 4 years

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Happy Birthday, mega-aulover!

Happy Birthday, @mega-aulover! We hope you’ve had a wonderful day so far, and that you got exactly the presents you were hoping for! To keep your party going a little while longer, the lovely @endlessnightlock has written a story just for you!

Happy birthday @mega-aulover! Here’s something a little spicy, a little sweet for your day. Soul-mark Everlark. Rated M for non-explicit sexual content.

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The first time I remember talking to Peeta, we were five, and it was a fall day, much like today- cool and windy, a welcome cool down from the heat of summer. He was standing at the bakery’s back door with his father, his little round cheeks pink from the heat emanating from the ovens. The heat was so intense from the kitchen you could feel it out on the step, and his eyes were the bluest things I’d ever seen. I think I fell a little bit in love with him then.

We were there that morning because my father took me along with him to trade with the businesses in town. It was a day of a lot of firsts: not only did I meet Peeta, but I also had my first Mellark’s fall apple muffin- I’d never tasted anything so delicious in my life. Since that day, I’ve had lots of baked goods from Mellark’s, and while my favorite is probably the cheese buns Peeta makes especially for me, I’ll never forget those apple muffins- they were like magic.

That day also marked the first chance I had to spend the morning in the woods with my father, tagging along behind him as he hunted and checked his traps. Prim was just a baby back then, and in my hazy memory of the day, I think she was teething, and Mother needed to sleep; that’s why I got to spend the day with Father. It was such a good day, and meeting Peeta was the icing on the cake.

My father is a hunter-gatherer, and we live in a small house in the woods close to where the fence used to run, separating it from the district boundary. It isn't far from town because my mother is one of the district healers, and there was school in town that my sister and I needed to attend, of course. It’s been a wonderful place to grow up, straddling that line between wilderness and civilization. My family is a happy one.

According to my parents, our life looks entirely different from how things were even five years ago now that our country is the New Republic of Panem.

When my parents were teenagers, the Great War erupted, and the districts, with the military backing of newly rediscovered Thirteen, rose together and defeated the Capitol’s heavy hand of oppression. They’d taken everything away from the districts for so long- food, freedom, hope in addition to the two children a year, forced to fight to their deaths in the Hunger Games.

After the war that ended in the rebel’s victory, citizens of Panem were free in ways they’d never been: free to travel, free to pursue higher education, and in Twelve, they were free not to work in the mines for a pittance until they died an early death from miner’s lung or cancer. The possibilities to choose the path of your own life? They’re endless now compared to what they used to be.

The only place where we are not so free is marriage, which wasn’t the Capitol’s doing. That’s because of the soul marks.

A soul mark is a pattern that emerges on your body through your teen years, eventually pairing you with your soulmate when you reach adulthood. If you’re going to get one (not everyone does), the beginnings of it show up around puberty, and the pattern typically doesn’t fill in entirely until you reach the age of eighteen. Once you hit your eighteenth birthday, you are considered ready for marriage as soon as you find the person with the other half of your soul mark. There’s a ceremony during the first day of the Harvest Festival where the eighteen-year-olds participate; it’s when the couples typically pair off.

We’re all told from an early age about the force that draws you to your mate; the older couples in the district are continually telling us younger ones there will be no doubt who your soulmate is when your time to meet comes.

I have a soul mark- it looks like a series of lines on my right hand in the space between my thumb and pointer finger; it’s a long line, with a series of eight identical hash marks that meet it vertically, leaving me with a soul mark that forms what I think must be the bottom half of a barcode. I’m not entirely sure that’s what the mark represents or what it is supposed to be.

Some of my friends have the marks; some don’t. Delly has one on her thigh, and Madge has one on her back. Peeta, my closest friend, and the person I have so many confusing feelings for, has a soul mark; when I asked him where it was, he flushed six different shades and told me he couldn’t let me see it.

I don’t think Peeta knows this, but I got a good look at what had formed of his soul mark when we were fifteen. That summer, a group of us hiked to the lake hidden in the woods to swim. Madge and Delly and I wore our darkest bras and underwear, we’d been before and knew what the water would do, while Peeta and Gale wore their boxer shorts. Peeta wore a pair of boxers that were unknown to him, transparent from behind when wet.

That’s pretty much when all the confusing thoughts I have about him began. I’ll never forget how dry-mouthed and hot I felt looking at him that way- I could hardly take my eyes off him. Peeta’s frame wasn’t as large then as it is now, and he wasn’t so muscular either, but it was still wholly overwhelming. He was all thick legs and broad shoulders even then, with the thin, wet material of his boxers leaving little of his backside to the imagination.

I’ve spent a lot of time alone in my bed at night thinking about that day, not just because of the way he looked and the way it made my body tingle (of course, that was part of it), but because of his soul mark. On one side of Peeta’s, err, butt, I guess you’d call it, were a few curving lines I could just make out through the thin material, which I kept sneaking glances at when no one was paying attention to me.

Like mine, I couldn’t determine yet what Peeta’s mark was supposed to be, but the curving lines reminded me of a loose sketch of clouds I’d watched him sketch once. Clouds and barcodes? Those two things were as unrelated to each other as doorknobs and jackrabbits. And it made me sad, realizing that his mark and mine were so different because that meant we were both destined to be married to someone else.

I don’t know why I felt like that- I didn’t even know if I wanted to get married; it was just that if I were, Peeta was the only boy I could picture myself spending the rest of my life with. He’s my best friend- he makes me laugh and makes me feel comfortable just being myself, and lately, I find myself thinking a lot about what it would feel like to kiss him, among other things I’m too embarrassed to mention.

The fact that I’ll never have any of the answers seems impossible to stomach, and today is the day- Match Day, the first day of the Harvest Festival. I’m so scared of what it’s going to bring: both who I’ll end up matched with and who I’ll watch Peeta walk away from the square with. Both are reason enough to make me want to run.

In the square with the other girls, I’m here, waiting with Madge and Delly for Mayor Undersee to stand on the stage and give out instructions for finding your mate in the crowd; if your mate is of age. If you couldn’t find your mate today, you keep coming back every year until you met the person with the matching soul mark. Twelve isn’t a large district, so there aren’t many young men and women here, maybe fifty. I’d say a quarter of them are a few years older, like Gale, who hasn’t paired up yet.

I scan the crowd, and my eyes briefly catch Peeta’s. He stares at me intently, something in his eyes I can’t name. It doesn’t look like the fear that I’m sure mine hold. I don’t know what he’s thinking, so I look away from him quickly, my stomach sinking at the reminder that he will never be mine, not the way I wanted.

Why couldn’t it have just been him? Why did we have to have these stupid marks on our skin anyway? I stare ahead at the stage, not looking to the left or right after escaping the razorlike sharpness of Peeta’s gaze on me.

And then, it’s time. Mayor Undersee appears on the small stage erected in the square just for this occasion. He stands in front of the groups of young men and women gathered near the front while curious onlookers and family of the soon-to-be-matched stay towards the back. Mayor Undersee looks out, smiling benevolently at us all. “Welcome to the matching ceremony!”

I feel like I’m going to be sick. I think panic might be setting in. Because I’m so nervous, I can’t concentrate on what the Mayor is saying; every noise around me sounds like buzzing and droning. Words bounce around inside my head, but very few of them form a coherent thought.

Meanwhile, my only real thought is-

I can’t do this. I can’t do this-

And so, as Mayor Undersee is wrapping up, as I’m panicking, as I realize that I’d be just as happy living alone in the woods for the rest of my life as I would be married to anyone other than Peeta, I come to a decision. As unobtrusively as possible because I don’t relish the idea of making a scene, I turn around and, ducking my head, elbow my way to the back of the crowd. When I get to the end of the girls’ group, I take off running without looking back.

Getting further and further away from the crowd, I hear someone call out my name, but I don’t stop.

I run for the first place I can think of, the bakery. The business is closed for the matching ceremony since Peeta is running it now; he has been since we graduated in the spring. At the time, Mr. Mellark moved into his new wife’s home. He still works at the bakery, but he wanted to make way for Peeta to have a place to bring his new wife.

Surely Peeta won’t come back here right away with his match? He’ll have to meet with her family and make plans for their wedding first. I know I should go somewhere else, I tell myself as I run up the back stairs that lead to his living quarters above the business, but I want the comfort of being here one last time before I lose him forever.

Letting myself into his kitchen, my favorite room in this space because it reminds me of time spent here with him, I drag myself over to his table; it’s old, it’s wood worn smooth and soft over time. Pulling a chair out, I slump down into the seat and let my arms drop to the tabletop, laying my head there.

Eventually, I hear heavy footsteps coming up the steps. When they stop, I look up to see Peeta standing in the doorway. “Are you alright?” he asks, sounding out of breath as he approaches me.

I laugh derisively. “What are you doing here? You should have stayed. You’re going to miss your match,” I tell him, although I’m glad he’s here, secretly, even though I know it’s just going to delay the inevitable. Peeta’s still going to match to a girl who isn’t me- someone who’s soul mark matches his.

“What happened?” He asks gently, ignoring my words. He pulls out the other chair and sits, scooting his chair close to me.

Instead of looking at him, I stare down at my hands; the breath caught in my throat. I’ve never been hesitant with Peeta, but my heart is thumping oddly inside my chest, and warmth is spreading through me. What I’m experiencing is similar to how I always feel in his vicinity, but greatly intensified. I sense Peeta watching me, waiting for an answer. When I glance over at him, he’s staring at my mouth. His tongue darts out, and he licks his lips; it makes my whole body feel tight.

“I can’t do it,” I say, tearing my glance away from his mouth, “I can’t marry some random man from the district. Not when, if things were different, it could’ve been-”

I’m trying to say it, trying to tell Peeta why I can’t go through with the soul marks match, but my words trail off when he moves into me. What I soon discover are his impossibly soft lips are on mine quicker than I would’ve thought possible, and oh, the feeling. At the first touch of his mouth on mine, heat spreads through me. It travels down to the tips of my toes and fingers, snaking its way through every fiber of my being. Peeta wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me down to the floor. We’re kneeling together when he pulls me against him again. I go without any hesitation; I want to keep kissing and touching him so badly.

“We can’t- we can’t do this,” I say, finally fighting against my wants as I attempt to pull away from him. I’m so weak, though, giving in to him when he chases me with his lips. Everything feels so good; I feel more alive, more right than I have ever been.

“Why not?” Peeta asks softly. His hands are everywhere, and I don’t want him to stop. I want to climb on top of him; it’s an overwhelming, powerful need. “Katniss, I love you-”

I give in because he loves me too, throwing myself at him with such force, I knock Peeta off balance. We tumble to the floor, landing side by side with our arms entwined around each other. “You shouldn’t say that,” I tell Peeta as my mouth drops to his neck. It feels like my brain and my body are directing two completely different courses of action, and I can’t seem to stop either one of them.

“Why?” Peeta moans as I suck on his skin.

“Our marks don’t match.”

“Do you want me, though?” he asks, sounding serious as he pulls away. We’re both harshly breathing as we stare at each other. “Do you want to be with me?” he repeats.

“Yes,” I whisper, searching his eyes, “Of course I do, but-“

He interrupts me, impatient with my reasons. “How do you know we don’t match? You’ve never seen my mark.” Peeta quickly sits up, rising on his knees. His hands drop, and I watch him tear frantically at the button and zipper of his pants. It’s surreal, lying on the floor beside him. My body is buzzing in a way that feels amplified times a thousand as I watch him unbutton his pants and pull down the zipper.

I know I should look away, but I can’t- for the first time in my life, I let him see that I’m looking at him, that I’m fascinated by him, and I want to know all his secrets. As he pushes his pants down to his knees, the tails of his shirt drop, obscuring his front so that all I can see are his muscular legs.

I don’t know what to do- Peeta is naked under that shirt, and I just-

He shifts a little, moving the bottom of his shirt to reveal one side of his behind, and I finally have a good look at him. I’m instantly distracted.

Wow, he’s got a great-looking behind. Gorgeous, really; in fact, I have a crazy urge to sink my fingers into it.

I tell myself to snap out of it because it makes things a little weird with me lying on the floor next to Peeta, staring up at the side of his butt. So I sit up; when I’m upright, I move the portion of Peeta’s shirt away that’s obscuring my view since I still couldn’t see his soul mark.

Peeta shivers when my fingers brush against him, exposing his bottom while I remain silent. I stare at the sight that greets my eyes, and he glances over his shoulder at me expectantly with eyebrows raised.

All I can do is drop his shirt, concealing his bottom again before covering my face with both hands, trying to keep the happy laughter escaping me from crossing over into hysteria.

I absolutely cannot believe this.

“Don’t laugh!” Peeta says, but he’s smirking himself. “I know my mark looks ridiculous, but I told you we matched.”

I sit back on my heels- my body shaking with the effort of trying to hold my laughter in. I cannot believe this- I’m thrilled. I’m getting everything I want.

Peeta turns to face me. He’s still on his knees, and his pants are still in a puddle around his legs, but he doesn’t hesitate to put his arms around me, pulling me close to him. “I love you,” he says as I get my laughter under control. I can feel him smile against my scalp.

“I love you, too,” I mumble, happy tears streaking down my face and wetting his cotton shirt. I’m probably getting snot on him by now, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Peeta pulls away, looking down at me. He uses one hand to wipe my eyes, and I take the opportunity to wipe my nose on the sleeve of my dress. I know it’s gross, but I guess some excess body fluids aren’t much to consider- he and I will be married soon. The corners of his mouth turn up in a smile as he watches at me. “You love me- for real?”

“Real,” I say, wiping my face with my sleeve again, just to be sure I got it all. “I love you.”

When my face is dry, I kiss him again, eagerly. I’m so happy, and I want him to know the way I feel. I love Peeta so much, and I want him so much.

We’re kissing intently, and I’m urging Peeta to lay on top of me again as he slowly undoes the buttons of my dress, when I have an epiphany. What’s happening between us right now, this all-consuming hunger must’ve been what the older soul-matched couples referred to when they (rather knowingly now that I think about it) told soul-marked teens they’d know their mate when the time came.

Apparently, in Peeta and I’s case, at least, “knowing when the time came” meant a quickly-awakened, unbridled desire for each other. Not that it took much for us when the love between us was already there, fully formed. I know this would’ve happened anyway.

It doesn’t take long for things to become even more heated between us. Before I know it, I’m lining up Peeta’s soul mark with mine when I reach behind him, grasping a handful of his delicious rump. My forwardness must surprise him, catching him off-guard in the middle of kissing a line down my neck and into the valley between my breasts, because when I do it, he grunts. HIs pleased noise makes my pulse race, so I do it to him again.

As for our marks? Of all things, Peeta’s is the top of an apple muffin, while mine is the bottom half. His curved lines and my rigid ones- they’re a lot like him and myself. Together we’re delicious. Although him on top and me on the bottom doesn’t last very long, just until he rolls us over and pulls my dress up and over my head, telling me he wants to look at me.

A while later, when the back of his head thunks against the wooden floor in bliss, I realize that maybe those apple muffins were pretty magical.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #fan fic #by endlessnightlock

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everlarkbirthdaygifts · 4 years

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@do-you-wanna-sugarcube Apologies, but we cannot take your birthday prompt without at least one weeks’ notice. Maybe consider sending a prompt through to @seasonsofeverlark as they have recently opened for prompts, too.

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everlarkbirthdaygifts · 4 years

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EBG Now Open for November Prompts!

EBG is now open to accept birthday requests for November! If you have a birthday coming up and would like your very own Everlark birthday gift, please read our rules, decide on a short prompt (a few key words or a short sentence, please) and send it our way!

Please remember that EBG does not take birthday prompts with less than one (1) weeks’ notice, and we reserve the right to reject your prompt if you do not follow this rule. If you have an early November birthday, please get your prompt in now to avoid disappointment.

#everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #mod post #prompt submissions now open

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everlarkbirthdaygifts · 4 years

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Happy Birthday, mellarkablegirl!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was about the same time- late enough so that Mr. and Mrs. Mellark were both in bed. Neither sets of our parents used to let us stay out so late, but since we’ve both turned eighteen and it’s our senior year, I guess they figure we’ll be out from under them soon anyway, so why bother with a curfew. Either we’re going to get into trouble, or we’re not.

We’d been sitting, talking about the dumb shit going on at school, namely some drama involving Josh Marvel and his on again off again girlfriend Clove Adkins.

Peeta groaned- ”Dude just won’t shut up about her in the locker room. Katniss-”

We were laughing together, and god, how happy his laughter made me. It warmed my body that night like sunshine on a freakin spring day, and while I know how sappy that sounds, it's the truth. That feeling- it made me feel reckless.

”He won't stop talking about how she's the hottest girl in our class-”

”You don’t think she’s the hottest?”

Peeta looked at me like I had lobsters crawling around on top of my head. “Are you kidding me? Hell no. No, not at all. You know I'm not an ogler.”

I laughed. ”Don’t act like you don't.”

He was growing uncomfortable, I could tell, but that didn’t stop me.

“Who do you think is, then?” I prodded him.

Why was I doing this to myself? I knew I wouldn’t like whatever answer he gave me.

I guess I had a perverse wish for some honesty from him because, at that moment, it seemed better to know what he thought, even if it meant I would be found wanting in comparison to the Cashmeres or the Lavinias of the world.

”I don’t think I want to answer that,” he said, his voice tight.

“Why?” I asked, turning in my seat. I was going to hate myself for it later, I knew it- but as an idiot in love with her best friend, I wasn’t already pathetic enough. This display tonight would definitely push me over the edge. “It’s not like I’m going to go hunt her down for you or anything.”

He turned away from me then, staring straight ahead. My stomach plummeted the moment I realized I was going to get my answer.

“What exactly do you mean by the hottest?” He finally asked.

“I think the term hottest is pretty self-explanatory.”

Peeta shifted on the swing. “No, because there are all kinds of attractiveness. I mean, I’m not attracted to guys, but Finnick and Gale are both pretty hot-“

“You’re avoiding the subject,” I said flatly. Bringing up other guys was a rookie move- “come on.”

“Who do you think is the hottest then?” He asked, turning to face me.

You, I wanted to tell him- and you're not just the most attractive, you’re the kindest, and the warmest, and I’d probably give my life for yours. “I’m not the one who’s supposed to answer!” I said, instead.

“It’s only fair,” Peeta said. “You know, you’re so- I wonder if you’ve ever been attracted to anyone, Katniss, even a little bit.”

I scowled at him, covering the hurt with a frown. Where was he getting at with this, turning the tables on me? And how dare he say that- he had no idea how I felt or how attracted to someone I was. He didn’t get to do that.

“Not that there’s anything wrong if you aren’t,” he continued, the words spoken too easily considering the way he’d broken my heart with his carelessness. “I like you the way you are- you’re just so pure. You don’t even notice what’s right in front of your face half the time.” He looked over at me then, with a weird half-smile. “Come on, Katniss- tell me I’m wrong.”

I stared at him, hating myself for beginning this conversation almost as much as I hated him for saying those things to me.

Peeta’s eyes held a challenge, sitting on the porch swing in the dark the way we’d sat for years and years leading up to that night . Endless nights during which we’d grown up together. I’d say I fell in love with him here.

And now, my heart was aching. I bit down on my lip to keep it from trembling.

I can’t say precisely why I did it: maybe it was the way he was looking at me, perhaps it was the frustration I felt with my inability to just say the words to him.

Whatever caused it, at that moment, I think I lost my mind.

While Peeta’s gaze remanded steady and unwavering, I moved closer to him. My heart was racing a million miles a minute, but still, I got my knees beneath me on the swing and leaned in, resting my hands on his shoulders for support, balancing in that precarious position.

And then, before I had time to talk myself out of it, I kissed him. His breath rushed out against my face right as I pressed my lips to his.

I’d never kissed anyone before. I was terrified, hoping I wouldn’t screw it up.

But there was also exhilaration and feeling completely overwhelmed by Peeta’s soft, warm lips under my own.

It was perfect.

He was perfect.

The breath caught in my lungs when he stiffened under my hands and mouth, and for half of a second, I panicked. Before I had time to think about it, he relaxed as if he’d only needed a moment to get used to the idea that I was kissing him.

I pulled back a little, closing my eyes and resting my forehead against Peeta’s. His skin was so warm against mine. I wished it wasn’t so dark, and I could see him better, those minute details of his face I’d never been close enough to take in before.

“Did you just…” Peeta began, but his words trailed off.

Instead of saying anything else, his hands came to my face, framing it for a moment before tilting it and kissing me back; I guess it wasn’t the time for words. I knew he’d kissed a few girls before, so I wasn’t surprised when he took over what we were doing, but not aggressively. He moved his lips against mine, and I responded. It felt like gentle, tingly caresses.

Peeta’s arm went around my waist, and he pulled me closer. I wasn’t sure where to go, so I just leaned into his body.

God, it was amazing- all my senses were in overdrive, his body felt so good against mine, and the way he smelled? I just kind of wanted to bury my face in the side of his neck and never leave.

He shifted a little, and I wobbled, still unbalanced. I was positioned awkwardly next to him, but I wasn’t sure how to rectify it. If I moved, he might stop kissing me, and I never wanted him to stop. It felt like we were in some alternate reality, in a bubble that would burst if one of us had a misstep.

Peeta must have sensed my trepidation; I don’t think he wanted to stop either. “Sit on my lap,” he murmured between kisses, “it’ll be easier that way.”

My pulse was pounding as I swung my leg over his thighs. As I settled on him, I swallowed roughly- I couldn’t believe we were doing this. His body felt so sturdy and warm and hard under me, and I was shocked to realize just how much straddling him affected me. My lips weren’t the only thing tingling- my whole body was a live wire.

“Katniss,” he murmured my name, his voice lower than I ever heard it sound before. His hand went behind my neck again, and he moved into me. This time, his lips parted, and mine opened automatically, my tongue darting out to meet his without a thought. Everything we were doing seemed as natural as breathing, each move requiring no thought. Instinctual.

I moaned into his mouth as his tongue caressed mine. I had no idea this would feel so good, all of this. We were both breathing hard, and I ran my fingers up the sleeves of his t-shirt to touch those strong arms I’d been admiring for years.

He sighed.

Peeta used the arm around my waist to pull me closer to him, and I had no choice but to lay against him, my breasts pressing into his chest as my bottom landed on the hard lump of his erection between my thighs.

Oh my god- it was like all my fantasies were coming true.

And then Peeta said those words that put a screeching halt to everything we were doing. “It’s you,” he pulled away from my lips just long enough to tell me, “only you.”

“Only me what?” I asked, ready to kiss him again.

My brain must’ve taken leave of my body. I couldn’t remember what we’d talked about while sitting on Peeta like this. The only thing I could think about was how good it felt with him beneath me.

“The hottest- the most beautiful. Whatever you want to call it, it’s you.”

His words froze me in my tracks.

Why couldn’t he have kept quiet? “You don’t have to say that,” I said, sitting back to look at him. His lips had swollen, and his eyes looked heavy-lidded as he stared up at me.

I didn’t want to talk about this- I didn’t want to consider that my best friend would flatter me that way just because we were fooling around. I mean, he’s a guy. Of course, he was going to enjoy doing this.

Couldn’t I just have this night? I was under no delusions that things would go further than this. “I’m not-”

“You don’t believe me,” he said incredulously, his eyes darting back and forth between mine. “Why don’t you believe me?”

I shuttered my eyes, finding it was impossible to look at him. “There’s no way you think that about me. How could you?”

Beneath me, Peeta’s whole body went rigid. He was silent for so long, the air between us grew tense. It was strange having him suddenly so distant while we were in such an intimate position.

“Are you saying I’m lying?” he finally asked.

I shrugged- yes, I did think that. What was there to say?

I guess my gesture spoke volumes because, just like that, every one of those good feelings between us dissipated.

Without looking at him, I climbed off of his lap and stood next to the swing. I don’t know exactly how I managed it, but everything seemed screwed up now. “Peeta, I’m-”

He wouldn’t even look at me, staring down at his hands. “I don’t know what you want me to say-” he interrupted.

“I don’t know what you want me to say!” I countered, “I just, I don’t want you to lie to me. Just because we did, just because we did that,” I waved my arm at the swing before quickly tucking it back around myself in a protective move, “doesn’t mean you have to tell me that. God, I just- I expected better from you.”

“Better from me? Katniss-”

I couldn’t do it. I just- “I’m just going to go, okay?” I stopped him. I felt like I was going to be sick.

Peeta heaved out a loud sigh. “Of course you are,” he sounded tired.

He stood abruptly, going inside the house with a slam of his door, leaving me second-guessing everything we’d done.

“Why did you assume I was lying to you that night?” Peeta asks, warily.

“Why did you sat that to me?” I counter.

“Because I meant it, every word of it,” he says, shifting restlessly in the porch swing, his fingers trailing the loops of a chain suspending us from the porch ceiling. “I’m not a liar, Katniss.”

No, he’s right. I’ve never known Peeta to lie, let alone lie to me. Sometimes he can be brutally honest when he’s frustrated. I think I figured out that he was telling the truth already. I just didn’t know what to do with that information.

He turns to face me again. “Why did you kiss me? You weren’t just trying to prove a point, were you? I don’t want you to kiss me to get me off your back or something.”

I let out a breath. “That wasn’t it. Well, it was a little at first, but you were an ass.” “Katniss, the only reason I want you to kiss me is that you want to kiss me.”

“I did want to kiss you,” I say. “I did,” I add at his look of skepticism. “I liked it,” I admit shyly.

“Why, just to see what it was like- did I seem like someone safe to fool around with?”

I frown at him. He makes me want to smack him- is he that obtuse, or does he think I’m shallow enough to kiss him, my best friend, because I wanted to kiss someone, anyone?

But the more I study his face, the more I realize he’s anxious, and his anxiety soothes mine. He seems to be hanging on by a thin thread, waiting for my answer.

Does this mean he wants me too?

And just like that, I know I’m the one holding the cards, as crazy as that seems.

Lucky for Peeta, he’s the only prize I want to win.

“Because I like you,” I say the words confidently as I sit close to him, hip to hip, laying my head on his shoulder and turning my face into his t-shirt. “I want you to be more than my friend. I have for a while.”

“How long is a while?” Peeta asks, and I can’t help but hear the happiness in his voice as he threads our fingers together and rests them on my leg.

“How long has it been for you?” I ask, instead, feeling shy. He needs to fill in some details- I’m not comfortable being the only one laying my feelings out.

“Since I met you.”

“That can’t be true,” I say.

“It’s completely true. Ask Dad- that night after you moved in- when we stayed out until the lightning bugs came out? That night I went home and told my dad I was going to marry you.” Peeta lifts my hand to his; he plants a kiss to my knuckles and rests his head against mine.

I stare at our joined hands, my mind racing.

“So I thought you were just fooling around with me, and you thought I was a liar,” he continues. “And neither one of us was right.”

I think I’m in shock over the way this evening has changed everything between us- it’s like I don’t quite know what to do with myself. “I mean, if you want to say yours was a lie of omission, then that was true. And I liked kissing you,” I admit, teasing Peeta.

“Yeah?” he asks, scooting forward on the seat and turning to face me. He drops my hand to push those loose hairs that escaped from my braid out of the way, tucking them in behind my ear. His fingers linger under my chin, the flat of his thumb caresses my cheek.

I shiver, my reaction giving me away.

“Me too,” Peeta says, smiling widely, “does that mean you want to do it again, now?”

And then we’re kissing- and on the Mellark’s porch swing at least, all is right with the world.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #fan fic #by endlessnightlock

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everlarkbirthdaygifts · 4 years

Text

Happy Birthday, alepaolvi!

Apologies for the delay on your birthday gift, @alepaolvi! We hope you had a wonderful day on October 2, and got exactly the presents you were hoping for! To bring your party back around, the lovely @norbertsmom has written a story just for you!

Author’s Note: Happy belated birthday, @alepaolvi. Sorry for the delay. I hope you enjoy your arranged marriage fic with a jealous Gale. This is set in Panem au. The revolution happened a few years before it did in canon. You may notice several lines are taken directly from the book, and tweaked to fit this new timeline. Special thanks to my bestie, @mega-aulover for her help. Rated T.

A Different Kind of Reaping

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When I wake up, I reach out for Prim but find the other side of the bed is empty. Prim has her own bed now, but sometimes I forget we’re no longer in the Seam. I prop myself up on one elbow. There’s enough light in the room to see that she’s not in her bed. Of course not. She’s been so excited to help me get ready for today. I’m sure she and mother are up prepping my clothes and making breakfast.

The two of them are so alike, with their blond hair and blue eyes and perky attitude. At fourteen, Prim is fresh faced and as lovely as the primrose for which she was named. My mother is still beautiful, if not a little weary in her grief at the loss of my father. Even seven years later, his absence is still felt, especially today.

I get out of bed and pull on trousers, a shirt, and tuck my long dark braid up under a cap. I slide my stocking feet into my leather hunting boots and grab my bow and sheath of arrows along with my foraging bag.

On the table is a feast fit for celebration: eggs, bacon, toast, and orange juice. All luxury items just a few years ago, before the war. Now a gift to me on my reaping day.

Reaping day is so different now. Before the revolution, reaping day was the day all district children between the ages of twelve and eighteen had their names put into a drawing. In punishment for the failed first uprising, each of the twelve districts had to provide one boy and one girl, called tributes to participate in the Hunger Games. The twenty-four tributes would be imprisoned in a vast outdoor arena to fight to the death. The last standing tribute won.

“Sit down for breakfast, Katniss,” my mother says. “You’ll need your energy today.”

I set my hunting gear down and sit, loading up my plate and tuck into the meal. I want to go out into the woods one last time before the ceremony. Who knows if I’ll be able to go back out after today?

Prim plops down in the chair beside me. “Are you excited, Katniss?” she asks as she loads up her own plate.

“Um,” I hum around a mouthful of food because I really don’t know how I feel. “A little scared, I guess.”

When the revolution was won by the districts, the Hunger Games were abolished. But soon after it was discovered that the population was critically low, and at risk of extinction after all the loss during the war. The new senate that ruled the country with one representative from each district, came up with a plan to help repopulate the nation: arranged marriages.

They decided to reclaim the reaping day as a day to bring new families together. That first reaping day after the war, men and women eighteen and older were matched to form new families. I wasn’t old enough then, but I am now. I don’t know how I feel about having my future decided for me.

I think back on all of the questionnaires we had to complete in our last month of school. We also had to list the names of those we would be happy to be matched with. We weren’t allowed to leave it blank, so I wrote down the one name I secretly wish for, but I’m sure I won’t get.

I may not even be matched this year. Not everyone is matched in their first year, so they have to go through it again the next year. Special deferment was granted for those who fought in the war to put off their reaping a year or two.

“Leave your sister alone, Primrose. She has a big day ahead of her,” mother says as she joins us at the table. She pours herself a large mug of coffee and cups it with both hands, holding it under her nose to breathe it in. She closes her eyes before taking a sip.

I’m the first to finish and get up to leave. “Thanks for breakfast,” I tell them as I grab my gear and head toward the door. I’m in a hurry. My old hunting partner, Gale Hawthorne is back in the district today. I haven’t seen him since he went away to fight in the rebellion. After the fighting was over, he stayed in the military and moved to district three so he could study under the victor Beetee Latier.

“Don’t forget your cheese,” Prim says as she gets up from the table and hands me a perfect little goat cheese wrapped in basil leaves. It’s been a tradition since she started making goat cheese to give them as gifts on special occasions.

“Thank you,” I tell her with a hug as I pocket the cheese.

“Don’t stay out too long, Katniss,” mother says. “You need to report to the Justice Building by one thirty. We need time to get you ready.”

“I won’t,” I tell her as I slip outside.

Our part of District 12 is the merchant quarter. My mother and Prim run the apothecary, but we didn’t always live here. I grew up in the part of the district nicknamed the Seam, where the miners live. The apothecary had been vacant since my grandparents died when the mayor’s mansion was bombed at the start of the revolution. After the war, my mother applied for and was granted permission to take it over.

As I’m skipping down the back steps, I look over to the bakery next door. Peeta Mellark is walking toward the trash bin with a bag in his hand. He looks up at the sound of our door closing. “Hey Katniss,” he says with that contagious smile of his. “Heading out to the woods, I see.” He nods to my hunting gear after placing the bag in the bin.

“Yep,” I tell him with a smile of my own. “Gotta catch dinner for tonight.”

“Ooh. Wild game, that’s one advantage you have over the other girls in the reaping today,” he says, crossing his arms as he leans against the small fence that divides his yard from mine.

“Whatever you say, Mellark,” I tell him, shaking my head. He’s always teasing me about how different I am from the other girls who live in town. Not because I’m from the Seam, but like I’m some unique creature he’d never encountered before.

As I walk down the path I wonder who Peeta will be matched with. He’s such a kind person. He was the only person to help me and my family after my father died. He gave me bread that helped us survive and gave me hope to go on. I’m sure he’ll have no problems finding a match today. Lots of girls will be hoping to be the next baker’s wife. Peeta lost his mom at the start of the war. She was one of those lost in the bombing of the mayor’s mansion.

Even though there’s an entrance to the wood close to home, I make my way through town toward the Seam to the entrance by my old house. It makes me feel closer to my father. That’s where he would take me into the woods when I was a child.

The streets of the Seam are empty today. Usually, the workers would be out heading to their morning shift at the mines or the medicine factory, but the ceremony isn’t until two. Might as well sleep in if you can.

Our old house was almost at the edge of the Seam. I only have to pass a few gates past it to reach the scruffy field we call the Meadow. The barbed wire loops that used to top the high chain-linked fence that separates the Meadow from the woods are gone. The fence remains to keep the wild animals out of the district, but gates have been installed at several locations around the perimeter to allow citizens access to the woods.

As soon as I’m in the trees, I look around for signs of a threat, like packs of wild dogs, bears, venomous snakes, or rabid animals. Inside the woods they roam freely, but there’s also food if you know how to find it. My father knew and he taught me some before he was blown to bits in a mine explosion. There was nothing even to bury. I was eleven then. Seven years later I sometimes still wake up screaming for him. But since Dr. Sidney, the head doctor, came to the district after the war, I’ve learned how to deal with my grief. My nightmares aren’t as frequent. Dr. Sidney helped my mother as well. She no longer lies in bed staring at the walls.

Before the war, trespassing in the woods was illegal, and poaching carried the severest of penalties, but the woods belong to us now, the citizens of District 12. Still, most people aren’t bold enough to venture out unarmed. My bow is a rarity, crafted by my father along with a few others that I keep well hidden in the woods, carefully wrapped in waterproof covers. If my father was still alive, he could have made good money selling them, but before the rebellion, if the officials found him selling weapons, he would have been publicly executed for sedition. Which is kind of ironic since the mine explosion that killed him was one of the catalysts for the rebellion.

We were never prosecuted for poaching back then because most of the Peacekeepers had turned a blind eye to the few of us who hunted. They were as hungry for fresh meat as anybody. Now we get food shipped in from other districts regularly, and I can sell my game openly to the other merchants at their back doors, and at my booth in the open-air market called the Hob.

In the woods waits my hunting partner Gale. I feel myself relaxing and quicken my pace when I think about seeing him again. I only got a quick chat with him yesterday when he arrived, mobbed by his family. He asked if we could meet up to hunt this morning like old times. I climb the hills to our rock ledge overlooking the valley. A thicket of berry bushes keeps it hidden. The sight of him brings on a smile. We used to be the best of friends before he went away.

He looks different than I remember. Not just older; he stands different, ridged and yet alert as if he is waiting for an attack from a wild lone wolf. He’s wearing gray uniform pants, and a faded black shirt. His eyes are sharper; they scan the area, before settling on mine.

“Hey Catnip,” says Gale. He knows my real name, but I had whispered it when we first met so he thought I said catnip. It stuck as a nickname even after all this time.

“Look what I shot,” Gale says as he holds up a loaf of bread with an arrow stuck in it. I let out an uncomfortable laugh. It’s fine bakery bread, the kind used during a toasting ceremony.

I’m not sure if he’s trying to impress me with what he can buy with his fancy new job, so I take the bread in my hands. I pull the arrow out and hold the puncture in the crust to my nose, inhaling the fragrance that reminds me of the blond haired, blue eyed son of the baker.

“Mm, still warm.” He must have been at the bakery at the crack of dawn to buy it. “Prim gave us cheese,” I tell him quickly as I pull it out of my pocket.

“Thank you, Prim,” Gale says as he pulls out a shiny knife from a sheath on his hip. I watch as he slices the bread. He could be my brother, same straight black hair, although his is cut short in a military style, same olive complexion, we even have the same gray eyes. We’re not related, at least not closely. Most of the families in the Seam resemble one another this way.

That’s why my mother and Prim, with their light hair and blue eyes used to look out of place when we lived in the Seam. They were. My mother’s parents were merchants. They ran the apothecary. That’s why she got it after the war. Now I’m the one out of place. I have the look of the Seam, but I live in town.

My father got to know my mother because he would collect medicinal herbs and sell them to her shop. She really loved him to leave her home for the Seam. Back then, the homes in the Seam were nothing more than shacks really. We had to boil water from the spigot in the yard if we wanted it hot. After the war, all of the squat gray houses in the Seam were replaced with new homes that are well insulated with running hot and cold water and reliable electricity.

Gale spreads the bread slices with the soft goat cheese, carefully placing a basil leaf on each slice while I strip the bushes of their berries. We settle back in the nook in our rock. I don’t eat much, since I already had breakfast, but it’s a nice treat. Everything would be perfect if all this day off meant was roaming the woods with Gale for a casual family dinner tonight, catching up on how our lives have changed since the war ended, but instead it feels awkward, like I’m here with a stranger instead of my old friend Gale.

“What’s it like in District 3?” I ask quietly to break the awkward silence between us. It was never like this before. He would rant about the unfair treatment the citizens endured, and how we should rise up against them. But now that the revolution is over and won, we don’t really have much to say.

“It’s alright, but I’ll be moving to District 2 after the ceremony. You’ll love it there. Mountains bigger than these. Lots of woods to hunt in.”

“Why would I want to go to District 2?” I ask. The idea is preposterous. I can’t leave my sister. Before the war, the fantasy was to run off, and live in the woods, but this conversation feels all wrong now. There’s never been anything romantic between Gale and me. When we met, I was a skinny twelve-year-old, and although he was only two years older, he already looked like a man. It took a long time for us to even become friends, to stop haggling over every trade. Then he went off to war and moved to District 3 as a hero. His hero status gave him the option to postpone his reaping until this year.

Gale’s good looking, strong from his time as a soldier, and he has a good job in another district. He will be a desirable match at the reaping today. I don’t know why he would want me.

“Forget it,” he snaps.

I let out a breath and ask, “What do you want to do, hunt, fish, or gather?”

“Let’s fish at the lake,” he says. “We can leave our poles and gather in the woods. Get something nice for tonight’s betrothal meal.”

Tonight, after the reaping, everyone is supposed to celebrate, but I’ll be betrothed. I’ll be spending time with my intended. He and his family will come to my house so we can get to know one another. Does Gale hope it will be him?

We fall into the comfortable silence I remember from hunting with him before he left. By late morning, we have a dozen fish, a bag of greens, and best of all, a gallon of strawberries.

On the way home, we swing by the Hob and trade half the fish and greens for fresh vegetables. Greasy Sae gives us a nod as we walk by. Even with the beef and chicken coming in from other districts, her wild game soup that she calls beef is always a hit. The customers around her booth are talking away about today’s reaping.

When we finish at the Hob, we go to the back of the mayor’s home to sell half of the strawberries. The mayor lives in a modest house not unlike the others in the district. After the war, the residents of the district realized that the old mayor’s mansion was just another tool the Capitol used to keep us in the district divided. The poor people of the Seam resented the wealth the mayor and the merchants had. So when the mayor’s home was rebuilt, he had it built the same as all the others.

The mayor’s daughter Madge answers the door. She was in my year at school, and my closest friend since Gale left. Her everyday outfit has been replaced by an expensive white dress, and her blonde hair is done up with a pink ribbon. Clothes fitting for the betrothal reaping.

“Pretty dress,” says Gale.

Madge shoots him a look, trying to see if it’s a genuine compliment. He used to antagonize her when we were younger, but now that he’s been gone for a few years it’s hard to tell. She presses her lips together and smiles. “Well I have to look nice for my reaping today, don’t I?”

“I’m sure you’ll have the match you want,” Gale says with a scoff.

Madge’s face has become closed off. She puts the money for the strawberries in my hand. “Good luck, Katniss.”

“You too,” I say, and the door closes.

I turn to Gale, “What did you mean by that?”

“Her father’s the mayor. People in power can influence the outcome of the reaping,” Gale says.

Madge’s father isn’t just the mayor. He was quite influential during the war. He was able to convince the residents of District 12 to join the revolution by bringing in Annie Cresta. Then he became our district’s liaison with the rest of the rebels.

Annie Cresta was the last Victor of the Hunger Games,and the spark that started the rebellion. She won the summer after my father died in the mining explosion. During her interview, after winning her games, she started screaming about her father and brother who were lost at sea with a whole ship full of fishermen just before her games. The Capitol played it off as her going mad. But during her victory tour she was more subdued, she would compare her district’s loss to the loss each district had suffered from a tragedy that same year.

The rumors started that perhaps the mine explosion that killed my father wasn’t an accident, but a sabotage to take out the rebel miners who had been planning an uprising. While in District 11, she talked about the silo collapse, in District 10 the stampede, and so on until she had rallied half the country behind her. Before her tour reached the Capitol, District 13 re-emerged from the ashes to sweep her off to be the face of the rebellion.

District 12 was one of the last districts still neutral to the rebellion even though the mayor tried to get our residents involved. He asked Annie Cresta to come back, to rally us to join the cause. Most of our Peacekeepers were recalled to the Capitol to fight off the uprisings in other districts. Those who stayed behind were sympathetic to the districts’ plight. The residents of District 12 wanted to wait out the war. If we didn’t join in, nothing would happen to us.

After the rally, while most of the residents of the district were at home debating why we should join the rebellion, the mayor hosted a dinner for Annie with the most influential Merchants and Seam residents. After the dinner was over, the mayor, his daughter Madge and a few others were seeing Annie off to her hovercraft back to District 13 when the mayor’s mansion was bombed by the Capitol. All those still inside were killed, including the mayor’s wife, his staff, my grandparents and many others.

The rally that day, along with the bombing that took out the mayor’s mansion, is what finally convinced the residents of District 12 to join the rebellion. We couldn’t stay neutral. The war came to us. Gale, among others old enough, went off to fight in the war. Not everyone came home. The baker’s oldest son died. Gale stayed in the military.

As we walk back toward my house, I glance over at Gale, still wondering why he came home this year. He could have participated in the reaping in his new district. I hope he didn’t come back here for me.

Gale and I arrive at the divide between the Seam and town and split up our spoils.

“See you in the square,” I say.

“Wear something pretty,” he says flatly as he walks towards his mother’s house in the Seam.

When I get home, Peeta is in the yard next door, feeding the pigs. “Hey, Katniss,” he says. “Good day hunting?”

“Yep, got some fish and greens for tonight,” I tell him.

“I’ve got a few recipes you can try out on your new family if you want?”

“Sure, that last one with the nuts was nice.” Curious I get closer. “So are you ready?”

He stops feeding the pigs. “I’m nervous,” he confesses.

“Nervous?” Peeta has nothing to be nervous about. He’s good like my sister Prim. Any of the women today would be lucky to have him.

“Well, what if the girl they pick for me doesn’t erm,” his face turned pink. “Well, like me.”

What he is saying is impossible.

“My parents didn’t have the best marriage, you know.”

I nod. I can see why he would be anxious. His parents did not get along; they hated each other but miraculously, had three boys.

I wish I had the words to be able to tell him that he had nothing to worry about. But nothing comes.

"Listen, I'll see you at the reaping. I've got to get ready. Don't want to scare my bride away by smelling like a pig pen."

I shake my head and laugh. When I go inside my mother sets aside her knitting and jumps up from her chair. “There you are,” she says as she helps me remove my hunting gear. She hands my bag to Prim and ushers me into the bathroom. “Get yourself a shower. You need to start getting ready.”

I scrub off the dirt and sweat from the woods and wash my hair. When I’m done I find my favorite dress from my mother’s collection laid out on my bed. A soft orange, with white lace insets near the collar, and a tie at the waist. “Are you sure?” I ask.

“Of course. I’ll fix your hair,” she says.

After I’m dressed, I sit at the vanity as she towel dries my hair and I watch as she braids it up into a crown on top of my head. I hardly recognize myself in the mirror.

“You look beautiful,” says Prim in a hushed voice.

“And nothing like myself,” I say as I hug her. Things are going to be so different after the reaping today.

Prim and mother get dressed. We have a quick lunch and then it’s time to go to the Justice Building to check in.

As we head toward the square, we are joined by others headed that way. Attendance is not mandatory like it was for the Hunger Games reapings, but most people show up anyway.

Mother and Prim hug me goodbye when I go into the Justice Building. After checking in, I’m ushered into the women’s waiting room. I find Madge and join her at the refreshment table.

At precisely 1:45, our escort, Effie Trinket, comes into the room. Miss Trinket was on track to be an escort for the Hunger Games, but she was actually a rebel working inside the system to help bring it down. After the revolution she became our escort for the betrothal reaping. Her bright pink clothes and makeup, while much more flamboyant than what those of us in the district would wear, is nowhere near as garish as the makeup and outfits worn by our last Hunger Games escort.

“Ladies, it’s time to follow me out onto the stage,” Effie says and we all line up to follow her out.

As we go out onto the stage, a cheer begins to rise from the crowd gathered in front of the Justice Building. Effie escorts us to the several rows of seats arranged on the left side of the stage. Madge and I sit next to each other.

Once we are all seated, Effie goes back into the building, but comes out a few minutes later followed by the group of men for the reaping. She escorts them to the seats on the right side of the stage. They are all wearing their best suits. Peeta gives me a wave before he sits in the second row. Gale sits in the front row in his military uniform.

At precisely 2 o’clock, Mayor Undersee steps up to the podium and begins his speech. He talks about the history of Panem: the dark days, the first failed rebellion, the 70 years of the Hunger Games, and then the revolution that freed Panem. He talks about how we have to rebuild Panem, the population lost from the Games and the war. Which brings us to today, the Betrothal Reaping. He then introduces Effie Trinket.

“Welcome, welcome,” Effie says. “It’s such an honor to be here, to help bring together the families who will be the future of our country.” She goes on to explain how the selections are not random. The answers we gave in the surveys taken during school, as well as our DNA were used to determine the matches. “Now, onto the pairings!” she says, and with a flair of her hand pulled out a stack of envelopes.

She plucks the first envelope from the stack and calls out, “Delly Cartwright!”

Delly jumps up from her seat, and quickly walks up to stand next to Effie. Delly is practically vibrating in anticipation. I wish I could be that excited. I just hope I get someone I can stand.

“And your match is,” Effie pauses dramatically, “Thom Davison!”

Thom, one of Gale’s old classmates who didn’t get matched in his previous two reapings, looks around bewildered. He gets a nudge from the person sitting next to him before he gets up and walks up to the podium to formally meet Delly.

Delly and Thom are ushered to the back of the stage where they stand next to each other whispering, with big smiles on their faces. I guess that means they are happy with that match.

“Very good,” says Effie. “Our next match is the mayor’s daughter, Madge Undersee.”

I squeeze Madge’s hand and she stands and gracefully walks up to stand next to Effie Trinket.

“And your match is… the local hero, Gale Hawthorne!” Effie exclaims. A quiet murmur goes through the crowd. That pairing was unexpected. I think everyone expected me to be paired with Gale, but I know it would have never worked out, we’re too alike.

Gale doesn’t look very happy at his selection, but stands and walks up to meet Madge. They stiffly shake hands, then walk back to stand next to Delly and Thom. It’s quite the contrast between the two pairs.

“Wonderful!” Effie says with a little too much enthusiasm. “Next up we have, Katniss Everdeen.”

I stand up slowly, then stiffly walk to stand next to the podium.

“And your partner is… Peeta Mellark,” Effie calls out.

My eyes go wide as I think, Oh, it’s him, my neighbor, my friend. The boy, no man, I correct myself, who saved my life and gave me hope. The man who reminded me that I was not doomed. The man who’s name I wrote on my questionnaire. I feel a smile come across my face as I watch Peeta get up and walk toward me. The smile on his face matches mine.

When he reaches me we stand and stare at each other for a moment before Effie Trinket clears her throat. “Go ahead, shake hands,” she urges. Peeta's large warm hand engulfs mine, and he gives me a reassuring squeeze. “Go ahead,” she tells us, nudging us toward the back of the stage.

When I drop Peeta’s hand, I feel the loss of warmth immediately, but I feel his hand at the small of my back as he escorts me to join the others. “Told ya I’d see you at the reaping,” Peeta whispers in my ear, and I can’t help but laugh. After that, I’m in a bit of a daze and miss most of the remaining matches.

At the conclusion of the ceremony, Effie dismisses the few remaining people who didn’t get paired up and calls the matched pairs to the front of the stage. Delly and Thom lead the way, arm in arm. Madge and Gale walk stiffly side by side. Peeta takes my hand and leads me toward the front of the stage, and the couples behind us follow suit. When we are all lined up, Effie calls out, “District 12, I give you your new couples. Please join us in the reception hall for family introductions.”

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That’s the end of part 1. This will continue as a work in progress.

A few notes: Dr. Sidney is named after Dr. Sidney Freedman from the final episode of the TV show M*A*S*H. He helped the main character work through his PTSD. Thom Davison is named for Dave Thomas of Wendy’s fame, who seemed like such a sweet man. The character Thom in canon is only mentioned a few times, but he is such a great guy. Gale’s friend who helps carry him back after the reaping, and then after the war Thom comes back and takes on the task of clearing away the debris so the district can rebuild.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #fan fic #by norbertsmom

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