A big, big thank you to @alwayseverlarkā for the generous prize for the This Would Have Happened Anyway Challenge way back in December. I merely had to enjoy the fabulous fics and comment on them and boom! I won a commission for one of my stories. I am super grateful and elated for winning.
To win artwork for a story I wrote is very special. It was like my effort, time, and imagination were affirmed. I can't explain it. Seeing my Katniss, Peeta, Elrick, Annie, and Nathan from Companion come to life through art was validating on many levels. I am not a writer, far from it, so this is pure joy for me. My heart grows warm every time I look at their blended family rendered by @little-lynxā. I'm so honored to have you draw my Everdeen-Mellark family šš§”
Adoption is very close to my heart, so my very first long fic had to be about that. Katniss and Peeta may have gone through a lot in their young lives, but their hearts are infinite, and together they chose to share that with Elrick, Annie, and Nathan.
I hope you enjoy this artwork as much as I do. Thank you again @alwayseverlarkā and @little-lynxā š„°
Happy belated birthday to Katniss Everdeen ā the girl who keeps reminding me not to lose hope (which is not an easy task).
What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again.
This is also connected to another WIP im also struggeling with that imdrawing for becuse I needed a profile pic. I have a snippet of it here if anyones interested
"They play in the Meadow. The dancing girl with the dark hair and blue eyes. The boy with blond curls and
gray eyes, struggling to keep up with her on his chubby toddler legs."
Happy belated mother's day to Katniss Everdeen.
commissions open! And I still have 3 sale slots left!
āWhen the war is over, if weāve won, Peeta will be pardoned.ā
Dead silence. I feel Galeās body tense. I guess I should have told him before, but I wasnāt sure how heād respond.
Not when it involved Peeta.
The Main Storyline
It only hurts this much right now: Growing back together
(Chapter 15 extended scene: And now you're mine)
I just need this love spiral: So after through everlark's wedding
(Chapter 12 Peeta POV: "Dance with Me")
Five, Ten, Fifteen: Fifteen years of Katniss and Peeta deciding to have children
Deep in the Meadow: Toastbaby girl pregnancy
The Dancing Girl (in progress): Everlark parenting toastbaby girl
Drabbles, one-shots, and collections
In the Kitchen: Peeta POV one-shot collection
Moments in Between: Drabbles & Tumblr prompts
Give it Different Meaning: Based on Honey by Taylor Swift
Rest: Bedtime in the Mellark household
Hello I'm gonna ask for kissing against walls plz ma'am. Perhaps in a NYE kinda way? If you're looking for extra flavor? luv ya
Uhh so this turned smutty real fast. You said extra flavor and I amped it up a bit more than I intended. Enjoy š
-- -- --
I hate it here, I can't believe Peeta talked me into this. Five years of quiet New Year's Eves in our house. No crowds. No one being drunk and weird. Just me and Peeta on the couch or in the bathtub or in our bed. What was so wrong with that?
Instead I'm standing in the town square in the freezing cold, packed in with hundreds of our neighbors. The air around me reeks of alcohol and too much perfume.
A hand presses in on my lower back and I recoil.
"Just me," Peeta says, in that soft voice that melts me like ice on a summer day.
I lean into him, letting him wrap his arm tighter against me.
"You're the third guy who's done that in the past five minutes," I tell him. "You're lucky I like your hands on me."
"Point out the other two," he says, face hardening angrily.
I wave him off. "I didn't get a good enough look at their faces. Stomped one of their feet real hard, though."
"Good," Peeta mumbles, drawing me against his chest as he continues to scan the crowd around us.
I tilt my head back and kiss him on the chin. He relaxes a bit, his easy smile taking over his face again as he leans down to kiss me on the forehead, just below the thick knit hat on my head.
"Are you having fun?" I ask, secretly hoping he's not. I know that's a long shot, though. Peeta thrives in this kind of environment. He loves getting the chance to chat with everyone and pick up gossip. And, truth be told, I think he likes getting to show me off a bit. There's always this glint in his eyes when they lock with mine in a crowd. One that says, that's my girl.
He's giving me that look now, as we're swaying slightly on the spot in each others' arms. There are a few couples trying to turn the square into a dance floorāthough their dancing is fairly obscene. For the most part, everyone seems to be just kind of standing and talking and waiting until midnight.
"Let's go home," Peeta says. My face must light up, because he chuckles and kisses my nose.
"It's still an hour until midnight, isn't it?" I ask.
"Yeah," he shrugs, "but I've seen all I needed to here. And you look freezing and miserable."
"We can stay if you want," I insist. "Really. I'm only mildly cold and slightly put out, I promise."
Peeta shakes his head, then ducks down so his lips are against my ear. I can feel his warm breath on my skin as he whispers, "I'd rather take you home and warm you up."
I don't need to be told twice. I link my fingers between his and hold on tight as we make our way through the crowd and out of the square. I'm more nimble than him, so I weave through tight spaces and then drag Peeta to plow through the crowd behind me. When we're finally free of the crowd, I give a sigh of relief.
"Thanks for putting up with that for me," Peeta says, draping his arm around my shoulders.
"Anytime," I say.
The walk back to our house is only half a mile, but without the shared body heat of the crowd, it's quite a bit colder out than I realized. Crossing the threshold into our home is a welcome change. There's nothing quite like coming in from the freezing cold into a home that's always warm and smells like bread and paint and pine.
I lean back against the stretch of blank wall in our entryway and breathe in the relief of being home. Peeta sits down on the bench across from me and pulls off his shoes. Then he's kneeling on the floor in front of me, unlacing my boots and helping me step out of them. My oven of a husband is already warm again, I know this because he slides one of his large, hot hands up my shirt and across the flat of my stomach. Rising back to his feet, he holds my waist firmly against the wall and starts a sloppy trail of kisses from my collarbone up to my lips.
I sigh into his mouth, teasing my tongue across his. Peeta smiles as he presses both his lips and his body more urgently against mine. My shirt is eased over my head and I start to fumble with the button and the zipper of his pants. Before I know it, I stick my hand down the front of his underwear and grab ahold of him. Peeta lets out a whimper of surprise and desperation. The sound only fuels my need for him.
"If you don't take me upstairs soon, we're going to end up fucking against this wall," I say breathily.
"You say that like it's a bad thing," he says.
Somehow I manage to drag him up the stairs with me, coaxed by lots of kisses and discarded articles of clothing. I fall back onto the bed and he follows, climbing on top of me. My fingers trace the expansive ridges of his back greedily. They tug at his curls desperately. His hands are roaming with equal possession and exploration. I look at him, his face flushed and his grin lopsided. Closer. I need him closer.
I hook one of my knees up and over his shoulder. Peeta responds by swearing under his breath and sinking his fingertips into my thigh as he presses kisses into the side of my knee. He plays around between my legs for a moment, but I'm already good and ready for him. So after a minute he plunges inside me.
I throw my head back against the pillow with a needy groan. The angle of my legs allows Peeta to get deeper than usual, and I'm barely resisting the urge to scream out already. Instead, I bury my faceāspecifically my teethāinto his shoulder.
"You feelā¦soā¦good," Peeta grunts between thrusts.
He hits a spot inside me that causes mumblings of incoherence to bubble out of me.
"Can you imagine if we had stayed at that party?" Peeta laughs. "Would've been such a waste of a night."
"Agree. Harder, Peeta," I cry out.
"Harder?"
"Harder."
Peeta drives his hips faster and harder into mine. My back arches and my toes curl, then I'm yelling out his name as he slams deeper into me.
"You're so beautiful like this," Peeta whispers.
I take a second to catch my breath, then roll with him so he's on his back and I'm on top of him. I press both hands to his chest and start to grind my hips into his. Peeta seems almost unsure what to do with his hands, like there's so many options he can't decide what to do first. Finally, almost hesitantly, he runs his hands up my sides then cups my breasts. I lean into his touch, practically begging him to knead my chest.
"Fuck, you're gorgeous," Peeta says. His eyes scan me slowly. "This is my favorite view in the world."
"Mine too," I say.
I find a steady rhythm, my hips rising and falling over and over against Peeta's. He continues to pluck at my nipples while gazing up at me like this is the best thing that's ever happened to him.
"I justā¦never get tired of this, you know?" he says.
"Well my knees beg to differ at the moment," I joke.
Peeta's face turns serious and he grips my hips firmly, slowing down my movements. Instead, he thrusts himself up into me and I throw back my head.
"I still can't believe I get to see you like this," he says. "It's been five years and I'm still just as enamored with you as I was the first time."
Any romantic sentiment I could return dies on my lips as we hear the big bell in the square ring in the new year. Peeta sits up so we're wrapped around each other as he kisses me full on the mouth.
"Happy New Year, my love," he whispers.
"Happy New Year," I repeat. I'm so close at this point, with Peeta's skin hot and sweaty against mine all over. I press my head against his, and go in for the kill. "I love you."
Peeta gasps slightly and breathes out my name as he finishes inside me. I'm not far behind him, coming undone around him as he's pulling himself back together.
"I think," he mumbles, tucking my hair behind my ear and pressing his lips to my neck and jaw between his words, "we might've just set a new record for how soon into a new year we've done that."
I let out a loud laugh. Pushing back his sweaty curls, I kiss his forehead, then his nose, then his lips.
"Have I mentioned lately how much I love being your wife?" I ask.
The most ridiculous, boyish grin takes over his entire face like it's the first time he's ever hearing this news.
"Well that's good to know," he whispers. "Because I really, really love being your husband."
