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katnissmellarkkk · 3 years

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how about Katniss’s birthday before the Quell — do we hear much about that? if anything? if not, what about Peeta taking a timeout from his trainer persona to bring her something like a cake? 🥺

I’m always a little insecure when I do post prompts because I don’t know if it’s exactly like the prompt but I actually think it’s like 99 percent close? Which is like, amazing for me because I always twist prompts a little 🤏🏻 and I don’t think I did here! Anyways! I finally wrote this soooo. Well actually I wrote most of it a while back but I finished it and cleaned it up. But anyways, yay! I hope you and everyone else who blesses me by reading enjoy this! It’s short — at least for me. I don’t know the exact word count but … probably too long for a drabble but a short oneshot. Okay anyways, if I keep talking the AN’s going to be longer than the oneshot.

Since the morning after the Quell was announced, I’ve done my best to not cry again about my given fate. Going back into the arena a second time—this time with all experienced killers, who have been friends for decades, no less—was daunting, but one morning of weeping is about all I could afford.

Not that I truly had time to wallow in my own misery. Peeta had me and Haymitch on a tight regimen. Every day he pushes us further, every day he orders us to cut the breaks between circuits shorter, to keep on running, to not lose our momentum, to hit the target again and again and again. And again.

It’s even gotten to the point, as of late, that Peeta’s mother, the witch herself, has forbidden our usage of her precious flour sacks as weights, claiming she still needs the ingredients to keep the bakery running and we’ve already wasted enough.

Her son is rather put out with her — to put it lightly — but for perhaps the first time ever, I’m grateful to the sour woman. Last year, when I cited Peeta’s ability to toss a sack of flour over his shoulder, I didn’t recognize what a true feat it really was. Even after two weeks of attempting to lift the stupid, heavy objects, it still took all of my strength to even get the stupid things off the ground.

Haymitch and me so much as shared a conspicuous smirk when told we no longer have to endure that particular activity.

Of course, Peeta still insists on heavy lifting to gain muscle, trying to find a substitute for the flour sacks in way of buckets filled with gigantic rocks and overfilled water jugs. This doesn’t seem to be of much strain to him or Haymitch — and therefore, not of much help to their training — but I can visibly see the difference in my arms day to day. Having never done much lifting in the past, since it’s hardly necessary for hunting or trapping, it’s particularly fascinating to me, watching my biceps grow larger as Peeta’s insistent training plan marches on.

But Peeta still feels the need to push himself further. Perhaps even more so than me — or our now very sober mentor — he feels the urge to always put additional strain on himself, more and more with every day that passes on by.

And as of today, his dissatisfaction with the lack of heavy weights available for his training finally reached a head when he casually pitched the idea of using me as a weight.

At first, I thought he was kidding. For a solid minute, I just stared at him, waiting for the punchline.

It was only after I glanced at Haymitch’s uncharacteristically earnest face that I realized there was no joke in the matter. I debated refusing for a moment before I sighed, resigning myself to becoming a human leverage.

It took over an hour of Peeta lifting me over his head, of being swung up in his arms, being whirled over his shoulder or seesawed up and down, for me to realize this was actually a nice break for me from the rigorous training. By the day’s end, I’m perfectly content to let my fake fiancé bench press me, throw me up like the sack of flour he covets so badly and whatever else he deems necessary.

It was only later on the walk home, right after Peeta said he needed to stop by the bakery to see his father, that Haymitch predicted the true reason for my day of leisure.

“I suppose that was the boy’s birthday present to you.”

My head whips upwards towards him, shocked. No one has mentioned the date at all as of late. The acknowledgement of the sparse time left until the games is weighing heavy on us all. “How do you know it’s my birthday?”

Haymitch raises an eyebrow. “Because I do,” is all he says finally, as he turns in the direction of his own house now. Just as he reaches his door though, he murmurs, “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” before heading inside.

Ever since the announcement that I’m doomed to be reaped again, my mother and Prim have done just about everything to make things seem okay around the house. Beyond that even. They’ve dedicated themselves to always appearing cheerful, to always having dinner ready for me, to always having a remedy for healing my achy muscles or advice for putting on more weight.

But if they’re usually chipper, tonight they’re downright ecstatic when I cross the threshold. And the reason is all too obvious.

This is likely going to be the last birthday we spend together. And not just of mine, but any of ours.

It strikes me unexpectedly that I’ll never see my own sister grow up, I’ll never see her into adulthood, I’ll never be able to watch her become the talented healer, the wise beyond her years young woman, the nurturing mother she’s doubtlessly destined to be.

And I almost get choked up at the thought. My resolve to not break down into tears like the morning after the president’s announcement nearly crumbles. But I hold it together somehow. By some inexplicable strength deep inside, I hold myself together.

My mother did her best to recreate the lamb stew dish from the Capitol I loved the best and I practically lick my plate. Not just to make her feel good but because all this training has exponentially increased my appetite.

Prim tells me all about school and Lady and a funny man she healed this afternoon, who had a proclivity for telling jokes while she stitched his bleeding arm.

She’s just getting into a pretty fabric she saw in town today when a loud knock interrupts us. My mother glances at me meaningfully, as if urging me to go get the door.

I shoot her a puzzled look, as I’m the least personable member of this family and surely, no one is here to visit me.

“Go on,” she says though, nodding towards the entryway. “Go see who’s there.”

I stand from the table and hesitantly humor her, unsure the entire walk there what could be awaiting me on the other side.

The answer dawns on me as the most obvious thing in the world, as soon as I turn the knob.

And see Peeta standing on my porch. He’s still in the same white shirt he wore earlier, still damp with sweat from the heat outside and the added exertion of lifting my body weight countless times.

But that’s not all I notice. Right off the bat I see that he’s holding something delicate in his hands. I blink once before recognizing what it is.

A birthday cake.

A birthday cake that has been meticulously frosted into a deep pine green. My favorite color, as he knows.

I realize after a moment that my name is cursively splayed across the top in white icing.

“Peeta,” I open my mouth to say something, to say just about anything, but much to my dismay, nothing comes out and I’m stuck fumbling like an idiot in the doorway.

He gives me a tight smile though and it’s the first smile he’s really showed me in weeks, and as he gently pushes the cake into my hands, it strikes me just how much I’ve missed the sight. “Happy birthday, Katniss,” he whispers, his baby blues lingering on my face only for one beat before he quickly turns to make an escape.

Before I can think it through, I’m calling after him. “Peeta, wait!”

Very slowly, he swivels around to face me. “Yeah?”

I freeze, dumbfounded. I don’t actually know what I wish to say now that I have his attention. That I miss him even though I don’t know how I really feel for him? That I plan to trade my life for his in only a few weeks time and all his work and effort to prepare me for the games is useless because it’s him I intend to come back home? That I hate his trainer persona so much and I wish he’d go back to just being my friend again?

That I really miss it when he acted like friend?

Instead all that comes out is a choked invite. “Come in,” I urge, and the plea in my tone is palpable. “Please come in and share this with us.”

He thinks about the proposition for a long moment, leaving me still standing there like an idiot, holding a cake too big to fit in my hands. Finally though, he graciously relents to my request. “Okay,” he murmurs and I swear I see something akin to excitement in his eyes.

And I wonder in the back of my mind how many nights Peeta spends alone, eating these delicious desserts by himself in his too grand dining room.? I wonder if, deep down, he secretly wanted to join me and my family for cake? If he misses our attempt at friendship too?

He generously takes the cake back into his hold, having the advantage of strength over me. Lifting bread-trays and flour sacks all his life made him reasonably strong before our first games. The current training regimen him and I — and Haymitch too — are currently doing has made him remarkably strong.

“Thank you,” I whisper again as he brushes past me in the doorway, as he enters my home and heads in direction of the dining room where Prim will doubtlessly be overjoyed at the sight of the sweet treat.

“You’re welcome, Katniss,” he says again, and flashes me one more smile. This time it’s less shy and with teeth. “Happy birthday.”

Yes, I think to myself as I shut the door behind us. Happy seventeenth birthday to me.

#everlark #the hunger games #thg #hunger games #oneshot #ficlet #canon compliant #catching fire #my writing #asks 🦋#cate 🦋🧸💗💐#idk I wish I could make it more fluffy but I couldn’t with it being set directly in canon #so we get stingy with his affection Peeta #anyways thanks if you read!

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everlarkingjoshifer · 6 years

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A Different Way CHPT 13

Hello, my lovelies,

I’m here with another late ass chapter of this crazy story. It’s been a busy week for me but I’m trying. LOL

First, I would like to thank @titaniasfics and @javistg for her incredible beta work. (You ladies are awesome!) To @mega-aulover @jobanana7 and my sexy Hubby for being such amazing cheerleaders and finally to @sunsetsrmydreams for her beautiful banner.

To my loyal readers and those who have left such incredibly sweet comments, I just wanted you all to know how incredibly honored I feel and you guys are the very reason I keep writing despite all my doubts and second thinking. Without you, I wouldn’t even be in the position I’m in. So Thank you guys, thank you for your continuous love and support. Know, that I appreciate everything from the bottom of my overly anxious heart!

If you’d like to access any other chapter, you can do so here AO3

As always, don’t forget to read, review, and reblog. Now on to the story...

Katniss awoke to Peeta’s arm slung across her hip. They’d decided to cuddle on the sofa and ended up falling asleep. After an unsuccessful attempt to move, she instead resorted to using her free hand to shake him awake. “Peeta wake up.”

“No, not yet,” he moaned, wrapping his arm around her tighter and breathing in the scent of her hair.

“Peeta, I don’t want the kids to see us like this. We have to get up before they do,” she insisted patting him on the arm.

Blearily, Peeta raised himself from his sleep and rubbed his eyes. “Fine, I’m up.”

“Toothbrushes?” she asked covering her mouth.

Peeta pointed to a general area, “It’s in the closet with the towels.”

Katniss nodded and went to freshen up. She widened her eyes when raccoon-like prints looked back at her and groaned. this was exactly why she hated makeup so much. Turning on the faucet she tried to wipe as much of the mascara as she could. Once she was satisfied with the results she got to brushing her teeth. Hoping Peeta hadn’t noticed the disheveled mess she’d woken up as she walked out of the bathroom and said, “Should I make breakfast?”

“That would be great!” Peeta said brightening up while he folded the comforter.

The kids woke up midway through Katniss making scrambled eggs and bacon.

“So, what is it with Johanna and your sister? Are they lovers or roommates,” Peeta asked with a bite of his eggs.

Katniss choked. “Oh god, no, they’re just roommates. They’re both highly hetero.”

“What’s hetero daddy?” asked Rye, big eyes looking his way.

“It means a man and a woman like each other,” Peeta answered looking at Katniss.

“Oh, so it’s not like aunty Rue, right mommy? She likes a girl,” Willow added.

“That’s right, baby, she’s a lesbian. You get two aunties. Aunty Rue, and Tia Clove,” Katniss replied smiling. She looked over at Peeta. “Rue’s my old college roommate.”

Peeta nodded understanding. Once everyone had their tummies filled, Katniss hung out until Willow begged to go home because she missed her own clothes.

Putting on her coat, she smiled at Peeta and squeezed his hand while Willow gave Rye a quick hug goodbye before walking out of the house.

A couple of weeks passed. Katniss had never felt hornier than when around Peeta Mellark. It was as though she were a teenager all over again. She would often go over to his house while the kids were at school. Sometimes as early as dropping Willow off. Sometimes he would let her in and had what Katniss considered to be the hottest sex she’d ever experienced, and other times work took a priority leaving Katniss to settle her discomfort on her own which frustrated her to no end. Her hand could only do so much as Peeta was more than attentive and knew exactly which buttons to push.

Her work, thank God, never suffered. But when Johanna Skyped her in the middle of her little sessions Katniss grunted with frustration at not being able to finish, cursing herself for not bothering to close the stupid laptop.

“What the hell are you doing, and why are you so sweaty?” Johanna asked rummaging into a chip bag.

“I was busy if you must know,” Katniss answered hoping to avoid any more questions.

Johanna looked unconvinced as she chewed. “Doing what?”

“None of your business,” Katniss clipped.

“Ask her if she was flicking the bean,” yelled Prim off camera.

Katniss gasped and turned crimson.

“Oh my god, you were, weren’t you?” Johanna squealed.

Katniss shook her head. “No, I wasn’t.”

“Liar. I can always tell when you’re lying,” Johanna accused. She turned to call Prim who rushed by. “Your sister was flicking her bean.”

Katniss covered her face. “Oh my god, I hate you both.”

“You were?” asked Prim looking both surprised and a little grossed out.

Katniss swallowed and closed her eyes as she nodded. She could hear both girls squealing gleefully and felt herself blush even more.

“What brought on this new course of events?” asked Prim settling on a chair next to Johanna. Both women looking attentive waiting for an answer.

Katniss sighed knowing there would be no way she could keep her secret from them. They’d eventually wear her down. “I slept with Peeta.” Mortification set in as both her sister and best friend gasped and Johanna yelled a ‘fuck yes’. Katniss could picture them pumping their hands triumphantly.

Rolling her eyes she groaned, “Okay, you can stop now.”

“Hell to the no,” yelled Johanna enthusiastically. “You have so much more to explain. When did this happen and, more to the point, was he good? I betcha he was good.”

“ I really hate you,” Katniss groaned.

Johanna stuck her tongue out. “No, you don’t. You love us.”

Prim made a disgusted face. “Ew, I don’t want to know about my sister’s sex life.”

“Well then, cover your dainty ears. Wouldn’t want to affect your delicate sensibilities,” Johanna advised.

Prim stuck her tongue out.

“Why me?” Katniss whispered knowing her best friend was right.

Johanna gave off a cartoonish cackle, “Why not? You’re super hot and you can be nice when you want to be.”

Katniss gave them the middle finger as she did everything to avoid their gaze. “I’m awesome, okay? And for the record, yes he’s amazing. Come to think of it, I don’t think Gale was ever half as good as Peeta. I think this is the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Probably the ONLY good sex you’ve ever had. It doesn’t look like Gale would ever be good at any of it,” Johanna tuned in.

Katniss snorted. “How would you know that?”

Prim rolled her eyes. “Puh-lease. He’s so into himself that I suspect he’s selfish. Bet you he was more worried about his pleasure than yours.”

“Not to mention that I think he has a small dick that curves to the left and he has problems with cumming as fast as the flash runs,” Johanna chimed in.

Katniss laughed nervously. “How did you know?”

“She was right?” asked Prim scrunching up her face. “Ew.”

“What can I say, I’m a talented woman,” Johanna looked so proud of herself.

Clearing her throat Katniss continued, “Actually, I’ve been sleeping with him for a couple of weeks now.”

Both Johanna and Prim’s eyes looked like saucers as they gasped and covered their mouths to muffle their squealing. Katniss was beginning to suspect Prim and Johanna were part dolphin, what with the frequency they emitted through the computer. It was both thrilling and annoying at the same time.

“You’re fucking that hot piece of ass and didn’t tell us right away? Oh, now I’m mad,” Johanna murmured and glared once she regained her bearings.

“Yup,” Katniss answered.

Prim looked impressed. “Not bad.”

Rolling her eyes, Katniss told them the whole story of Gale and his insensitive words. Both ladies reacted appropriately, with Johanna promising to crush his nutsack between her hands and Prim, who wasn’t one to use curse words, finally calling him a fuckface.

When she got to the part where Peeta showed her his painting and she discovered her portrait they sighed romantically.

“Don’t be such a stingy hoe and share more details already,” Johanna pouted bouncing on her chair like a spoiled five-year-old.

“What else is there to say, though,” Katniss asked shrugging.

Prim laughed shaking her head. “You could tell us if you guys are dating. Do I get to call him my big brother now?”

“That’s the problem, we haven’t exactly established anything, and he hasn’t taken off his wedding band. I’m afraid I’m falling for a guy who feels he has to keep the memory of his wife alive as some sort of punishment to whatever he feels he’s guilty of,” Katniss said. She hesitated for a second taking a wavering breath. “I’m scared,” she whispered

“Katniss, there’s nothing to be scared of. He’s loved you forever, and I’m pretty sure he’s feeling just as insecure as you. I mean, you have to deal with Lame Gale,” Prim said looking to Johanna for assertion.

Katniss pursed her lips, “But what if he decides that having a relationship could ruin his son?”

“That won’t happen. Rye would’ve already rejected you and he hasn’t,” Johanna put in choosing to resume her chip munching.

Katniss groaned running her hand across her face. “What am I gonna do?”

“Katniss, do you love him, or even like him enough to know that you can love him?” Prim asked.

Katniss thought for a minute. “I’m not sure if what I feel for him is gratitude for helping me so much or love. Maybe it’s a combination of both, or I don’t really know.”

“Well, I suggest you figure that shit out first,” Johanna said with Prim nodding vigorously.

Katniss huffed. “Well, I guess fuck me, huh?”

Johanna wiggled her eyebrows. “More like keep fucking him! He’s delicious looking, you lucky bitch.”

Katniss snorted. “Shut up.”

#ADW chpt 13 #everlark fic #enjoy!#this was such a fun chapter to write!

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