A/N: So I wrote this one-shot a while back when the need to visit post-MJ everlark struck me and I decided to post it today in honor of my dear friend HGRomance :) It's her birthday tomorrow so I'm dedicating this to her for being an awesome friend and an amazing contributor to the everlark fan fic world. We are so lucky to have an author like you do justice to our fav couple! Hope you have an amazing birthday tomorrow, you deserve it! Thanks as always to my amazing friend/beta Court81981 for all her help and support. I'm on tumblr ~ thegirlonpeetamellark
[Lady licking Prim's cheek]
Once, when she was young, she caught me crying.
Alone in my bedroom, on a day when it was a challenge just to get out of bed, she slipped away from Peeta–who had offered to keep them both entertained downstairs–to come and find me.
I was burrowed beneath the covers, clinging to the book and running my hand over Peeta's drawing of Prim, silent tears streaming down my face.
"Mommy?"
Her quiet, hesitant voice startled me and I looked up to find her standing at the door, peering into the room, looking scared and a little unsure.
"Hi sweetheart." I wiped away my tears and offered her a weak smile. "You can come in, it's okay."
She made her way across the room and crawled up onto the bed, fitting herself against my side and wrapping an arm around my waist.
"Are you sad, mommy?" She asked with all the innocence and curiosity of a five year old.
I took a deep shaky breath and pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her head.
"Yes, baby."
It was the only words I could force out through the lump in my throat. The warmth of her body, the softness of her hair as I ran my fingers through it were just enough to calm me, to make me feel a little better as the sadness slowly loosened it's hold on me.
"Auntie Prim?" She asked, catching a glimpse of the book still in my lap.
We had mentioned Prim and Peeta's father and the other family members she will never get to meet, fleetingly, letting her know that they love her and we still love them, even though they're not here anymore, even though they went up to live in the clouds like Greasy Sae.
She understood it well enough, grasped the concept as much as she could for a five year old.
"Goat!" She exclaimed, pointing to Lady licking Prim's cheek and I felt a laugh rise to the surface despite myself.
"Yes, that's a goat. I gave that goat to Auntie Prim when I was young. It was very sick but your Grandma and Auntie Prim nursed it back to health. Its name was Lady and it wore a pink ribbon around its neck."
"Pink!" She exclaimed in disbelief and excitement, her eyes going comically wide.
"Yes, pink!" I confirmed, feeling the weight ease off my chest, feeling the joy spread through me.
Later, when Peeta appeared upstairs after putting our son down for his afternoon nap, he found us both still in bed. We flipped through the pages of that book for the first time that day and she took it all in, looking at every picture and drawing with rapt interest.
She didn't ask for explanations and I wouldn't have known how to give them to her at the time anyway.
Peeta joined us in bed, moving to her other side so she was sandwiched in between us. He put his arm around me and gave me a reassuring squeeze, offering all the comfort and support I had thought I would need for this moment.
But surprisingly it wasn't as difficult as I imagined. If anything it felt good to share the names and the small little details of all the people we loved and lost, of all the people whose memories we sealed onto the pages of that book.
Curled up in bed with my daughter and husband, I found some peace. I found the happiness they always bring to my life and let it push away all the lingering dark thoughts and feelings from before.
[My father's laugh]
My mother and I truly found peace with each other and with our past when I became a mother myself.
She came out right when our daughter was born and helped us adjust to life with a newborn, teaching us all the little tricks we never would have known about otherwise.
She was still in District 4 working as a healer, but we talked on the phone more often when I had questions and she came to visit a couple of times a year at least.
When I was pregnant with our son she came to say for a week towards the end of my third trimester.
It was the four of us at dinner, a feast Peeta cooked up because it seemed that lately no matter what I ate I was always hungry for more. Peeta got restless and eager to spend some time with his little girl since the meal took all day for him to cook, so he started teasing her towards the end of the dinner, making funny faces and playing with his food.
I tried to keep a stern expression at first, not wanting him to encourage her to goof around before she was done eating, but it was impossible. He was building towers with mashed potatoes and creating volcanic eruptions with the gravy. When he started imitating the voices of the peas and carrots trying to get away I lost it.
I had to cover my mouth I was laughing so hard and soon the whole table was in fits. I caught sight of my mother looking at me carefully a moment too long and I asked what she was staring at.
"You have your father's laugh," she said simply, a small, but happy smile on her face.
I confessed to Peeta later that night that the comment tore at me, in both a good and bad way. It shocked me sometimes how much I still missed him after all these years. There were wounds and losses that were more fresh and raw, but there was something inside me that would never truly heal from the absence of my father.
Unbidden, tears fell down my face as Peeta held me from behind—it was the closest we could get with my eight-month pregnant belly.
But like countless times before Peeta was there to remind me of what I still had in my life, the love and family I had created with him.
He kissed my shoulder as his hand slipped down between my legs, rubbing me until I was wet and aching for him. When he slid inside me I mewled with pleasure. He was always an amazing and generous lover, but when I was pregnant he sometimes wouldn't let himself come until I had climaxed multiple times. He said seeing my belly swollen with our child overwhelmed him, made him delirious with joy.
He kept rubbing me and hitting me with hard shallow thrusts against the spot I needed it the most. I came twice before he finally let himself go and exploded inside me.
I fell asleep tired and sated and happy.
[Peeta's father with the cookies]
I remember when I was young —even when I still couldn't admit to myself how much I loved Peeta—I knew he would make a wonderful father.
Once, I got home from a day out in the woods before Haymitch had picked our daughter up at school. It was just Peeta and our son in the kitchen and he was showing him how to bake.
He was four years old and needed a step stool just to be able to see what was happening on the counter. Peeta was showing him each ingredient and how to measure it and letting him dump all of it into the mixing bowl.
"Now we're going to stir," Peeta explained, wrapping his arms around our son's tiny hands, helping him grip the wooden spoon, mixing all of the ingredients together in one large bowl.
I stopped in the living room, removing my hunting jacket as I watched our son's eyes go wide with fascination as he looked down into the bowl that was bigger than his own head.
"That's it, little guy," Peeta said, pressing a kiss to his blonde curls.
A lump suddenly formed in my throat as the similarities between my two boys became glaringly apparent. I always had moments like these when I saw the pair of them together: the blonde hair, the cherub lips and full cheeks. Peeta and our son even shared the same look of deep concentration.
It would always nearly knock the wind out of me, to see Peeta and his son, to see Peeta as the kind, loving, wonderful father I always knew he would be.
In that moment, I was suddenly transported to another time and place. A lifetime ago, after the reaping of our first games when Peeta's father came to see me with the cookies, when he promised to look after Prim.
Tears filled my eyes when I thought about the generosity of the kind, gentle baker who always bought my squirrels. I quickly tried to blink them away as Peeta looked up and noticed me for the first time.
He frowned when he saw I was upset and wiped his hands off before coming over to pull me in his arms.
"Hey, are you okay? How were the woods?" He asked, pressing a kiss to my lips.
I nodded shakily and offered him a weak smile. We had an understanding that I would always tell him whether I was really okay or not, even if I didn't want to talk about it right then and there.
I assured him I was because the brief moment passed quickly and I told myself to focus on the here and now, to focus on Peeta with our son. Our son who would never see a reaping in his lifetime.
"Daddy!" he called, "daddy, look!"
We turned to find flour spilling over the edge of the bowl and smearing his chubby little cheeks.
We laughed and Peeta turned to help him clean up and save what was left of the bowl.
I watched Peeta and our son make cookies together that I knew he was taught how to make by his own father before him; the kind, gently baker who had always shown me kindness.
[The color of Finnick's eyes]
It was the first time we left District 12 as a family.
We took the train to 4 to visit Annie and her son.
We got in late and had to carry the kids into their room. Annie had already made up their beds, and greeted us with hugs and hushed words in the dark of night. It was right across the hall from our own room and while I was hesitant for them to be separated from us in a different place, I couldn't complain about the room Peeta and I got to share.
It had a window overlooking the beach and with the way Peeta liked to sleep with it open we could hear the gentle sound of waves crashing against the shore.
The noise wasn't enough to lull us to sleep though.
I think we could both sense some unease in one another as we tried and failed to drift off. It wasn't the first time we had come to visit Annie, but every time we did the ghost of Finnick, his absence, felt like a weight hanging over us.
I think I initiated it, but Peeta was certainly the one to finish it.
After barely a few kisses he had stripped me of my nightgown, leaving me nude and exposed to him. He'd kissed his way down my body until his head was between my legs and he was sucking and licking at me relentlessly.
I had to bite down on my closed fist to try and keep from screaming out.
I came with a soul shattering orgasm and then he was sliding his cock into my mouth.
After he came in my mouth he rolled on his back and when he had recovered I rode him until we were both delirious. When we used our lovemaking to heal each other like that, or to distract each other, or just to keep the dark thoughts away, it always got a little rough and out of control. It always had me crying out in ecstasy because Peeta knew just how I needed it, just how I wanted it. He could always find the perfect amount of roughness I needed to completely lose my mind.
When we finished, we drifted off into a deep, uninterrupted sleep.
I woke before him in the morning and when I got out of bed to go check on children I paused by the window, looking out at the ocean. The morning sun was hitting it just right and it reflected back an amazing sea green that was almost identical to the color of Finnick's eyes.
I smiled, thinking what he would say if he could see me now; married to Peeta with two children I fussed over constantly.
Look at you all grown up, definitely not the girl on fire anymore.
It was easier to remember him like that, like he was still around, still cracking jokes and smiling that magnetic smile, using his charm and good looks to disarm people.
I turned back to the bed and pressed a quick kiss to Peeta's lips, reminding myself that Finnick had died for this, for a future where we could all be happy and free from the tyranny we had lived under for so long.
I didn't want to let him down. I don't think we had.
[What Cinna could do with a length of silk]
I had a headache. I was tired and grumpy and lying in bed while Peeta put our children down for the night.
I could hear him across the hall telling her bedtime stories, answering her questions, and singing her favorite songs. Then the sound of him moving into the boy's room, the hushed father-son moments and words they shared. The sound was so comforting, such a soothing noise for my heart and soul, that it must have let me drift off for a little while.
Then I was stirring in bed as I heard Peeta moving around the room, loud on his feet as always, and getting ready for bed.
"Hi," I smiled at him sleepily. "Thank you for putting them down. I wasn't doing too hot earlier."
He slid into bed beside me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me flush against his chest.
"You are never not hot," he whispered before gently biting down on my ear lobe. "I always want to fuck you," he added, slipping his hand down between my legs.
His words ignited a fire inside me and I got butterflies in my stomach when I recognized that tone of voice, the crassness of his words. I knew that meant he was in one of his moods where he wanted to make me come until I couldn't see straight. And with my headache gone I was more than willing to let him.
"I remember the first time I really wanted to fuck you," he laughed, pressing kisses along the crook of my neck.
"Oh yeah, when was that?" I asked curiously.
"I think there was a certain dress," he said at length, running his hands over my body languidly, leaving a trail of electricity in their wake, my skin tingling from his touch. "It was my favorite shade of orange. It was tight in all the right places. I think Cinna must have made it."
My heart tightened briefly at the mention of Cinna, but mostly I smiled happily at the memory of my old friend. Peeta always knew how and when to bring up things from the past so as not to upset me.
And thinking about what Cinna could do with the length of silk, the beautiful creations he dressed me in, how much I treasured his friendship during the brief time we had together, how much he supported me and comforted me during my darkest times, made me feel grateful rather than sad.
I vaguely recalled the dress he was referring to. I think it was one of the outfits from the Victory Tour. I remembered asking Cinna to create something in a soft shade of orange, not even realizing at the time I was doing it with Peeta in mind, hoping he would like how it looked on me.
"That was the first time you wanted to fuck me?" I laughed as his fingers traced along my folds, gathering the arousal accumulating there.
"It was the first time I remember just wanting to bury myself inside you," he murmured as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. "I mean, I was always attracted to you, always wanted you, but there was something about that dress."
"What about the cave?" I teased. "What about those nights on the train?"
He hummed his amusement and started to circle my clit. "Oh I always thought about you like that, but they were more innocent, pure thoughts about making love to you slowly and sweetly. When I saw you in that dress it had me wanting to make you scream my name."
"Peeta," I keened as he pushed two fingers inside me.
He laughed. "Yeah. Kind of like that."
[Boggs reprogramming the Holo]
She had just turned 16. And our son was already 12.
The same ages Prim and I were when our lives and the entire world were irrevocably changed forever.
The thought didn't upset me as much as I expected it too. In fact, the only thing the thought caused me to consider was how old Peeta and I were.
The nightmares still visited on occasion and sometimes Peeta would disappear into his own mind and needed me to call him back. But mostly we were happy and…old.
At this point we had lived most of our lives free from the games and the Capitol and the world which we grew up in. It didn't mean things were always easy or we were completely free from our demons, but I could honestly say the good outweighed the bad more often than not.
Seeing my children grow up, spending every night sleeping next to Peeta and making love to him whenever—and sometimes, wherever—we felt like it, having enough food, and not living in fear of a reaping, was a luxury I never took for granted. I knew how lucky I was to be here, to have gained all this after everything I had endured.
I would sometimes find myself thinking of not only those that I'd lost, but those that had died just to give me a chance at this kind of future. Boggs more often than not because of those words he spoke to me so long ago before we entered the Capitol on that fateful mission.
"I'm planning for you to have a long life."
He had been trying to assure me that he wouldn't let a still-unstable Peeta kill me, even if that was what Coin had been hoping for when she sent him to join a squad. I don't know why the middle-aged soldier cared so much about me, why he sided with me over Coin, but I think about the way he reprogrammed that Holo in his final few minutes of life just to transfer me control, to keep me going on that mission to end that war once and for all.
"Don't trust them. Don't go back."
Sometimes when the blood and horror of those memories threatened to overwhelm me I would have to take deep breaths and tell myself only to focus on that final image of Boggs' face; the determined look in his eyes, the confidence he must have had in me. He wasn't afraid of death in those final few moments. He was a soldier. He knew what he was fighting for, what he may have to sacrifice his life for one day.
I could still be awed at the idea that he felt my life was worthy of sacrificing his own for.
[Rue poised on her toes, arms slightly extended, like a bird about to take flight]
"Can we stop and take a break?"
I tried not to sigh in annoyance as Peeta trailed behind me on our trek through the woods.
Haymitch was watching the children—even though they were old enough now not to need a babysitter—and Peeta had gotten his crew to cover the bakery so we could have a day to ourselves. It had been much too long since we had some time alone. Things had been so crazy busy lately that it seemed like we were both always occupied with something other than each other and it was growing frustrating.
Just a few days before I had been so horny for him—after realizing it had been nearly a month since we'd made love—that I marched right down to the bakery, dragged him into the back office, and then sucked him off before pushing him to the floor and riding him until I was screaming his name.
After that we had agreed that we needed to do better about finding time for each other—not that he was complaining with the way I barged in like that or anything.
So we had packed a picnic and decided on a day at the lake.
But we were not teenagers anymore. We could not even be considered young anymore really. And Peeta had never been a great hiker.
He had leaned against a tree and panted heavily. "What's the rush? We got all day."
I rolled my eyes. "Exactly. And I want to spend the day at the lake. Not walking through the woods to get to the lake," I explained to him.
"Alright, alright," Peeta had relented, coming up to me and slipping an arm around my waist. "I'm just getting slow in my old age," he explained, pressing a kiss to my temple as we started walking together.
It was a lot slower this way than it had been before, but I had to admit it was nice to be held by him like this. And we were nearly there anyways.
"You're still so damn loud," I teased as he stepped on a pile of twigs and leaves noisily.
"You love me," he replied with a shrug and I felt a giddy grin appear on my face in response.
The lake was perfect. We slipped off our clothes and slid into the water naked. The water was cool, but not cold and wonderfully refreshing after that long hike. We swam and played for a couple of hours until we drifted closer to shore and simply held each other.
"We really need to do this more often," Peeta murmured as I wrapped my legs around his waist and started kissing along the underside of his jaw and behind his ear. Then I reached down to grab his cock and stroked him deliberately.
"Fuck," he grunted, thrusting into my hand.
"I miss being able to scream your name and be as loud as I want," I murmured into his ear, thinking about how we always had to be quiet because of the kids—who were old enough now to pretend to be disgusted whenever we shared a kiss—or because we were fucking somewhere we shouldn't be—like his back office in his bakery.
"Katniss…" he moaned as I started rubbing the tip of his dick against my clit.
"I miss you fucking me so hard it hurts," I breathed, my clit throbbing with desire at this point.
He palmed my ass aggressively and rubbed me against the length of his cock, my wet folds sliding against his hardness. He started moving towards the shore, still holding me against him, and as my back hit the blanket we had laid out, I felt him slam into me.
"Peeta!" I whined helplessly.
"I want to hear you," he groaned, hooking an arm under one of my knees so he could get even deeper inside me. I yelped with approval at his brutal, punishing pace.
I screamed out into the silence of the woods and lake, completely losing my mind.
Sensing that I needed more, that I wanted this to last as long as possible, Peeta pulled back, lifting himself up on his knees and pulling my legs to wrap around his waist. I arched my back in ecstasy, feeling him hit me from a new angle.
"Oh my god," I whimpered, pushing myself down onto him, needing every hard inch of him as deep as I could take it.
"So beautiful," Peeta hummed, reaching out to fondle my breasts.
I was lost. Completely overwhelmed by the feel of my husband inside of me, of our wet skin drying in the sunshine, and the sounds of the forest and lake around us.
When he reached down to start circling my clit with two fingers I felt the pleasure surge and build to indescribable heights. I shattered around him, my walls squeezing him with my climax and coaxing his own release out of him. He filled me up—warm and throbbing—his fingers still running lazily over my clit, pulling final tremors of bliss out of me.
When he collapsed against me I kept my legs hooked around him, running my hands over his back and through his hair, making sure we held each other and stayed connected and savored this moment as long as possible.
Peeta finally pulled away, kissing me softly with a stupid, lazy grin.
"Good day," he said simply, making me laugh.
"Really good day," I agreed as he finally rolled over on his back, pulling me into his side. I rested my head on his chest and closed my eyes, thinking about how truly content I was in this moment.
The sun was warm, but not uncomfortably hot. The woods were quiet, but still alive with those familiar sounds. And most of all, I was happy and grateful for some time to share with Peeta where we could be alone. I wasn't even worried about our children, knowing Haymitch loved the time he got to spend alone with them.
We must have drifted off because the next thing I knew Peeta was gently shaking me awake with soft kisses to my face.
"You should get dressed," he said, handing me my clothes. "Or else I'm going to take you again and we won't be back in time for dinner."
After we dressed I told him to come help me gather berries by the stream for dinner. Sitting by those bushes we heard mockingjays start to flutter and perch in the trees above us. We both looked up at the same time as they started to tweet and chirp impatiently, like they were waiting for a tune to repeat.
Peeta and I glanced back at each other with hesitant, chagrinned smirks.
A fleeting memory of this nearly exact same thing happening another lifetime ago crossed my mind. When Peeta was still in the Capitol and I was out in these woods with a camera crew. I sang those lyrics to 'The Hanging Tree' as I got lost in my own pain.
I refused to let that memory ruin this day though. Some days I felt unbelievably strong like that, like I would just stubbornly refuse for the pain and trauma from the past bring me down. I knew I had Peeta to thank for that.
I puckered my lips and whistled out Rue's four-note call.
The mockingjays picked it up with ease, repeating it back to us in a chorus.
I smiled and looked back at Peeta proudly.
Over his shoulder I saw her. Rue, poised on her toes, arms slightly extended, like a bird about to take flight. As soon as she appeared she was gone though. And I could only smile, knowing she was with me, knowing she was at peace.