Hey y'all, I don't write fanfiction but I do try my best to support by liking and re blogging, my birthday is Nov. 23rd if anyone feels up to it, I'd really appreciate a story with a sassy southern belle Katniss rating E or M, thanks for all of this!
Happiest of birthdays to you!!! To help celebrate your special day, the inimitable @hutchhitched has created this perfect little piece of Everlark perfection, just for you! Enjoy!
Author’s note: Happy birthday! Writing this felt like a gift to me, so thank you for a glorious prompt. I hope Katniss is sassy enough to bring a smile to your face today. <3 Thanks to @xerxia31 for beta help.
“Katniss, can you please attempt to look something other than bored beyond tears? I do declare, your surliness is going to cost you a fine match if you’re not careful.”
“Aunt Effie, why do I have to be here? You know how much I despise dancing and these clothes. And these men,” Katniss sniffed. “They are the most boorish, boring—”
“Attitude,” Effie snapped. “Chin up; smile on. You are an Everdeen from the most glorious plantation in South Carolina, and your responsibility is to represent your kinfolk back home at the Seam with class and dignity.”
if he had known or believed into anything beyond what women and men were able to see he might have prayed. to something or someone. however, religion as much forbidden as a mind that used its capacities to think. one long lasting moment & head shook no. muscles tense and eyes fell toward the floor. he would do this. to survive. eyelids fluttered for a moment , both times he had felt DEATH had grabbed their thin fingers round them. thin skin spread above its bones / he looked alike death. ’ i don’t think i have much of a choice. ’ he were to run back home one day, watch the smoke blow into the air and kiss the grounds goodbye. ’ i don’t belong here. you all are fighters, but … ’ coin had a reason why she put him into the star squad —— cameras everywhere and the more dramatic the better. he was the key to all who were still alive in the capitol. come to us, fight for us. be like caesar. & he would slip away in the nightsky. run & hope all that he loved were still safe. run. ’ you don’t have to tell them, you know. you could go back to bed and pretend you were asleep all the time. ’
Rating: E for language, allusions to underage sex, and sexual situations
A/N: You have not lived until you’ve had @xerxia31 beta an E-rated sex scene – I laughed so hard, tea came out of my nose. Xerxia, thank you for the beta-magic and thank you to our lovely moderators for another great prompt.
I awoke the following morning to Katniss poking me in the side. I groaned and pulled a pillow over my head. Why was she already out of bed? She was fastening the buckles on her old army rucksack.
“Morning, sleepyhead. Finnick and the crew will be leaving in half an hour. I let you sleep as long as I could.”
I had slept like the dead, better than I had in months, years, maybe ever. I felt slightly robbed that I had missed the opportunity to wake up with her, but I felt so well-rested I couldn’t complain.
Thanks to mellarksloaves for the inspiration for this drabble. It’s probably not exactly what you were looking for, but I hope it’s enjoyed nonetheless.
Peeta dashed into the empty elevator, slamming the fist he had griped around a greasy paper bag against the button for the tenth floor. He let out a breathless huff, collapsing back against the elevator wall as the door slid shut. He’d never been late with breakfast before and was hoping it wouldn’t be too much of a problem. Of course when Katniss Everdeen was hungry, there was no telling which way a situation could go.
As the elevator continued its slow rise, Peeta caught a glimpse of himself in its shiny doors. He frowned, squatting down to drop the bag and brush at the wayward curls falling across his forehead. He really needed to get a haircut. He couldn’t be working in Snow Industries, one of the most iconic business towers in the entire city, looking like some college dropout. He made a few extra swipes at his hair before he was at least sort of satisfied with the look.
The elevator slowed to a halt just as he was rising to his feet, the bag once more grasped in his fingers. He pulled in a deep, steadying breath as the doors pulled open. The familiar bustle greeted him as he stepped out onto the floor that belonged solely to Tribute Magazine. It was lively and comfortable and Peeta felt the tension ease from his body as he started moving farther from the elevator.
To Amy! Thank you for your support, here is a thank you ficlet just for you!
a Sequel to “Matching for Prom”
“Alright kids, smile at the camera for me…” Said the photographer in a too excited tone, for a person who’s job had been snapping pictures under the ungodly heat of a gym full of rowdy teenagers, “and… Done!” The flash went off causing my sight to get blurry. If I close my eyes, I can see stars. “Come back in thirty minutes for a printed sample. Claim it with this stub,”
“Thank you,” says Peeta to the man, reaching his arm just inches around my ribcage, to collect the stub. Peeta’s just bought sixty five bucks worth of prom pictures, that more likely will find they’re way into a box of high school memorabilia, gathering dust somewhere dark, forgotten by time. Still, his smile is so bright and big, I don’t even have in me to roll my eyes at his extravagant purchase.
The photographer guy had us posed in a more intimate position than we’ve ever been: me in front of Peeta, his hands resting lightly on my waist, while my hands sit atop his. I can only hope the picture retouched the guy assured us came free with the package Peeta just bought, covers any harsh blushing that might’ve appeared on my face, when my best friend took advantage of the guy’s directive, to put his hands me, and simply just wound his whole arm around my navel.
The way Peeta held me to him, felt possessive, stake claiming, even. I can’t say I didn’t secretly thrilled me, but I know my face was must like a tomato shade by the time the picture was snapped.
At the moment, Peeta’s dragging me by the hand to our table, where the rest of our friends sit.
“I just wanna get something to drink, and then I wanna take you for a spin around the dance floor,” he whispers in my ear, his body closer to mine than usual, the act of speaking so close to my ear somehow feels even more intimate than the whole picture thing.
I nod. I can’t trust my voice right now.
We finally reach our table, and out of the other five people that sat with us, only my friend Madge and her boyfriend Gale, are still sitting there. Gale looks ticked off for some reason, but that’s hardly strange for him. He’s too serious a guy, an Madge is quiet as a mouse, I can’t even begin to know how they ended up together.
Peeta pulls back my chair so I can sit, and leans down, to tell me he’ll be back with a couple of Sprites.
I thank him, gratefully, and then I’m alone, with the other couple. I smiled at Madge.
“How are you enjoying the party?” She asks loudly, to compensate for the thundering music playing in the background.
“Pretty good. You?”
“Good!” She says, sipping on her Diet Coke.
Gale nods, and grunts his assent as well, but contributes nothing more.
“Where are the others?” I ask, slipping off my nude color heels, to splay my bare feet on the cold gym floor. I almost hiss in relief when my feet land on flat terrain.
“Finnick and Annie are dancing, and Johanna just saw that guy… the football player,” She pauses, frowning, then she turns to Gale, “What’s the guy’s name again?”
“Blight?” He says scowling. “He isn’t much, but Jo seems to like him.” Says Gale before tipping back his cup of water.
“Yup! That’s it! Blight. She went to say hello to him, apparently he came alone as well,” said Madge conversationally.
“Huh. I wonder if that was more like a plan of them or something,” I muse.
“Who knows, with Jo,” says Gale, then looks down at his watch. “I wish Odair would hurry his ass up, and got back soon,” he grits through his teeth.
“Why?” I ask.
Gale looks up, eyes widening, as if he’s surprised I heard his comment about Finnick Odair, who’s actually a college boy, already on his second semester of law school, but his very serious girlfriend is still a High School senior, just like the rest of us at the table.
Peeta sits a cup of soda right in front of my, and plops down on the chair next to mine. With the distraction of his arrival, Gale hastily pulls Madge up, and on to the dance floor. I find it really weird, even for Gale, to act that way, but I forget all about it, when I see my date’s sweet smile; it has my insides melting like hot wax.
“Hi,” he says softly, staring at me like I was a piece of fine art.
“Hi,” I breath out, blushing furiously.
This exact, same shit, has been happening for the last few weeks leading up to prom. It’s like we get caught up in this flirty, cutesy, school crush cycle, that really goes nowhere, but it’s still strong enough to show us there has been a shift in our friendship.
It makes my stomach swoop, and scares me to the core. I’m not sure what’s going to happen after this ‘official date’, as he calls it. Will we progress onto something more? Will we keep things the same? Will we make this ‘official dating’ business a recurrent affair?
Then my mind runs away from me, and blush even more. What if he tries to kiss me? Will I let him? Of course I’ll let him!!! Hell, I’ll probably instigate the kiss if he takes too long to do it himself!
“Let’s go dance,” he says noting I’ve drained my drink in one pull.
He stands, and offers me his hand, which I take readily, smiling at him.
We reach the packed dance floor, where people are writhing against each other to some bopping dance song or another, their sound has mixed together to the point they’re indistinguishable. The atmosphere is charged with electricity, and the smell of sweat permeates the air. Peeta and I, join the frenzy of the others like mindless lambs. It’s good to lose ourselves in the drone of the repetitive beat, at least for a moment.
Tonight it’s supposed to be the last time we go out, and act like reckless teenagers, that just want to feel the rush of endorphins released in our young brains, until is time to return to the challenge that’s normal life.
I dance with careless abandon. The music, the heat, Peeta’s closeness, everything is a mix of enablers, to my loosening inhibitors. I turn around in Peeta’s arms, my back to his chest, and his hands plant themselves on my hips firmly, we grind against each other to the beat of the music; my arm snakes it’s way around his neck, and I pull his face down to my own.
I’ve never been a fan of strapless dresses or tops- I don’t think I have the chest to do the garments justice- but right now, I’m absolutely glad, I let Prim’s squealing voice, influenced my choice in gown. It’s a soft orange sparkly thing, with small crystal beads on the fitted bodice, and gauzy A line skirt that brush the top of my three inch pumps.
With the help of my outfit- heels particularly- I’m at the perfect hight, for Peeta to nuzzle his nose behind my ear easily.
He drags it back and forth across my neck and shoulder, causing my skin to break into a million goose bumps. He sighs contentedly, and suddenly we aren’t dancing to the music’s tempo anymore, we have slow down our frenetic thrashing, to a hypnotic trance, allowing ourself to become moving, sensuous flesh.
His finger tips trail up my arm, all the way to my bare shoulder, continuing to my neck, and then, he kisses right above the place his thumb is caressing the skin where my neck meets my shoulder.
A small moan escapes me. The kiss felt like a searing brand, left by his lips. It felt good, so impossibly good, I hope for another. I never knew this pleasure existed until just now, and the feeling in the pit of my stomach scares me to no end, yet, I don’t want to move out of his arms, I don’t his lips to leave my skin.
“I’ve been dying to do that all night,” he chuckles breathlessly. “Hell, I’ve been dying for everything happening right this second all my life,” his voice is raw, husky and dark.
I’ve never heard him sound like this before. A rush of arousal costs my underwear, not for the first time in my life, but the very first time, because of a boy’s words and proximity. I’m not sure if I should be embarrassed and run for it, it if I should let him know how he’s making me feel, I don’t get to decide, because Johanna is making a beeline toward us, with that football player, Blight, and I can’t read her expression in my own horny addled mind.
“Brainless! I’m leaving,” she announces loudly, stepping not five inches from me.
Peeta and I detangle, the bubble of lust having been popped so rudely. “Um… okay?” I say tentatively, “I guess, thank you for coming to say bye-bye?” I say lamely, we didn’t ride together after all. Peeta and I shared a limo with his cousin Delly and her boyfriend Thom, but they were only in the party for half an hour, gotten their pictures taken, said hello to the teachers chaperoning, and rushed out the door, to Thom’s truck, parked in the student lot, left there earlier.
I really rather think they went to catch a movie or something innocent of the sort… but, who am I kidding? It’s prom night, four to five weeks from now pregnancy tests will litter the city’s dump.
Johanna makes a face at me, “You truly are clueless!” She says flatly. “I’m, going, 'home’, with Blight, in case anyone asks, including my grandma, capisce?” Her wide-set brown eyes bore into me, as understanding settles, with her quoting gesture, around the word 'home’.
“Okay?” Then I’m perturbed by the questions assaulting my mind, “hey! Did you tell your grandma you were staying with me?” I groan because her Cheshire Cat smile lets me know that’s exactly what she did. “Why me? Why not Annie or Madge?” I whine.
Johanna rolls her eyes at me, “Because Finnick is taking Annie to this very expensive hotel he rented, and Gale and Madge somehow are hitching a ride with them to a similar place. Plus, it’s not like you and blondie here are gonna go loose your respective v-cards to one another anyway,”
“You don’t know that!” The childish protest slips my mouth before I can think better of it.
Johanna arches an eyebrow at me, and Peeta who’s still an inch away from my back coughs loudly, choking on his own saliva. I’m mortified when Johanna finally starts to cackle like a witch, clearly dismissing the idea of me and Peeta actually going through with sex tonight.
I seriously would have to disagree, if the way we were dancing before she interrupted us was any indication of our mental state, but, I don’t tell her that. “Fine!” I ground out finally, if only to get her to go away. “But you owe me. Big time!” I tell her.
“You won’t collect, so, sure! I owe you. Big time!” She retorts mockingly. But soon, she gone, and Peeta and I stand frozen in the middle of the dance floor, too afraid to look at each other.
“Come on,” he says quietly, bringing a warm, protective arm, around my shoulders, and guiding me back to our table.
I scan the gym, not seeing the rest of our friends. “You think they already left to wherever they had reservations to?” I ask still searching for them.
Peeta shrugs, and sits heavily next to me. “Does it matter?” He asks annoyedly.
“I guess not,” I say bringing my eyes to him, for the first time since Johanna.
“Look,” he sighs deeply, readying himself to some well intentioned, but utterly unnecessary, speech. “We… We don’t have to… We could just… ” he growls in aggravation, fisting his neatly combed hair, messing it all up, when he pulls on it.
I react before I realize what I’m doing, but my hands are detangling his from his once gelled up curls.
“No. We will talk about this, like normally talk about everything, okay?” I say more calmly than I feel. “We are best friends, first and foremost. We can hash this out like everything else,”
I peer at him, and he nods.
Covering his face with both hands, he waits a moment, before glancing back at me, “I’m in love you with you,” he says bluntly. His blue eyes are intense, and firm, and captivating. “I’ve been in love with you since we were five. The day you invited me to sit at your table during lunch, was the best day of my life, and I can never tell you how distressed and guilty I’ve always felt about it, since I know it was possibly one of the worst days for you and Prim. But, I love you. I can’t stop it, I can’t change it, and I’m terrified you’ll cut away from your life now that you know how I feel.”
He slumps in his chair mutely, as if his confession had drained him from his last drop of energy.
“It’s okay, if you don’t feel the same way about me. It’s okay if you rather never speak to me again. But, I had to tell you, or I was going to combust.” He says lowly, rubbing his hand over his forehead and eyes roughly.
I just sit there, staring at the table cloth. My mind is completely blank for like it feels like forever, until slowly, I realize there’s a new type of music playing in the background. It’s just the last few notes of Aerosmith’s 'I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing’, and then the smooth, deep voice of DJ Cinna, cuts through the fog in my mind, announcing the next requested oldie. My eyes widened, and I look up at the DJ table, the lights of the disco ball hanging from the ceiling for the occasion, pepper the place with dots of light, and I know what is it that I want. The setting is perfect.
I stand up, and pull an incredulous Peeta to his feet, never tearing my eyes from his wide ones, I walk us to the dance floor, as the notes of the acoustic guitar floods the gym, followed by a snare and a cymbal… I pull his arm around my waist, and take his free hand in mine, and then coil my own arm over his shoulders, until my fingers touch the hairs at the nape of his head. We start swaying, when the first line of the lyrics fall of my lips:
“Kiss me, out of the bearded barley.
Nightly, beside the green, green grass.”
His eyes shine, his mouth opens, his arms tighten around me, I know he loves to hear me sing. I know this song will go down as his hymn of triumph for posterity.
“Swing, swing, swing the spinning step.”
His lips curl into a shy, infatuated smile, which I return, with a blush.
“You wear those shoes and I will wear that dress.”
And then, right when I brace myself to sing the chorus, he’s spinning me, so fast, he lifts my feet half and inch of the ground.
“Oh, kiss me, beneath the milky twilight.”
My arms lock tightly around his neck, and I heave my breath, trying to sing the words along, between happy giggles.
“Lead me out on the moonlit floor, Lift your open hand, Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance, Silver moon’s sparkling,”
He finally puts me down, and I look right into his eyes, when I sing the last line,
“So kiss me…”
He obliges, and I have no recollection of when the song ended; his hands are still cupping my face, and his smiling lips are raining tiny kisses all over my face, when DJ Cinna breaks our dreamlike haze, announcing the next song.
“Are you okay with this?” Peeta asks still giddy, kissing my nose.
Hi I love your drabbles more thqn I love my life. if you are free can you please write either everlark teaching the daughter how to walk or something post mockingjay that us very fluffy. Thanks soo much ily
Hi anon :)
Thank you for the prompt, and I’m so glad you enjoy my drabbles! Though I assure you, your life is a wonderful thing, and so much better than anything I could write.
I hope you like this…
It was always just one step. One step, and he’d feel his heart start to race a little, his eyes begin to widen just slightly, and he’d open his mouth ready to call Katniss in from the other room. And then almost before it had even begun, it would be over again, and she’d plop back down on the floor, stick a thumb or her little plush toy rabbit into her mouth, utterly oblivious as to how intently he watched her.
Peeta knew, deep down, that there was no rush. Both of Delly’s kids hadn’t started walking until they were well over a year old, and he remembered that Dylan Odair had taken his first steps at 11 months. But the idea of his own baby girl walking was thrilling and he wanted it to happen now. Just the thought alone filled him with so much premature pride, it was ridiculous.