It's Friday! As you all Hunger Game Fanatics all know, the movie came out today! Of course, being your Always My Peeta God (or should I say Goddess) and leader, I had a duty in going to see it. I died in my seat. It was so incredible I can't put it into words, but I'll try. Being able to see the dynamic romance of Katniss and Peeta on the big screen has gotten me so motivated, and hopefully I'll be updating more frequently… Read on, readers. (BTW- don't ever sit in the front row while watching Hunger Games, everything is so blurry! Or maybe I'm just blind…)

I expected to wake to the warmth of Peeta's skin beneath my fingers, my cheek, to hear the steady flow of his breathing and cheek his chest rise and fall. But he wasn't here with me, and for the first time after we'd made love, I woke up alone.

But Peeta was a kind man, he was someone who would always think of me first, so there was a note next to me on my pillow. You wouldn't normally expect someone with his education, especially male, to have such neat handwriting, but he does. Or maybe it's because he's so well adjusted to using his hands. That's where he is! I knew the answer before I read the note, he was at the bakery.

'I've woken up with an epiphany. Last night's events have brought something to me I just can't let get away. I hate to leave you alone, but I'm at the bakery and will try to return before noon.

All my love,

Peeta'

I was right, he was at the bakery. I looked at the sun, which was just about over the trees, still late dawn. He would be gone for a few more hours, and that wasn't going to be easy. Who said I couldn't join him, though? I would visit him, but I needed a few moments to myself.

I laid back and sighed to myself, thinking over the events of the previous night. I had Peeta back. It was still all so hard to believe. Then again, we are just a huge bundle of miracles so far. Just getting past our first time in the Hunger Games was absolutely crazy as it is, and when the second time past, I felt there was almost nothing we couldn't do. But after we lost him to the capital, I had never felt so hopeless. I recalled last night's dream, a dream I'll never forget…

"My dear, this is never an easy thing to say," Snow says to me, turning towards Peeta and running a finger across his lips. His hands were literally tied, being held by two peacekeepers behind him, and I saw the reluctance in his eyes as Snow caressed his face in various places. It made me sick to watch, and it stunned me how little Peeta moved. How little he fought. It looked like something he was forced to do over and over and over again. Of course my subconscious knew it, he was a slave. A slave forced to give sexual favors, and from the looks of it, Snow was his main user. "But this boy is now mine." Peeta looked up at me, frightened and apologetic.

I was shocked. How was Peeta still able to make love with me after going through something like that? How many men and women was he violated by before I had him back? I felt terrible utilizing his body so quickly, we should've waited! Looking for assurance that I wasn't completely awful, I looked back down at his note, starting to wake up and realize I was hungry. I had to stop getting used to such large meals. I didn't need them, and I was becoming too accustomed. Something about the note stuck out. 'Last night's events have brought to me something I just can't let get away.' What was that supposed to mean? Was he splattering the memory on a canvas of frosting because it was good, or because it was bad and he wanted it out of his system? I had to see him and find out.

As I stood I glanced down, I needed clothes. Remembering last night it finally hit me that we could've conceived. Did he think about it before we made love, or was it my fault…? Then a wave of nausea overcame me and I darted for the bathroom, vomiting in the toilet.

Oh no…

I walked up the familiar wooden steps of the bakery that we'd worked so hard to rebuild where his own families was. After we returned home for good, Peeta immediately wanted to bake. It was all he'd done since he was hijacked, and now it's what he continues to do. He speaks of epiphanies more often now, and I should've known that's what he would do this morning. I can't just expect him to sit still while his fingers tingle with anticipation. At least we're never short on cupcakes.

"Peeta?" I call as I enter, not expecting to see him in the front area, where he sells them.

"Katniss, is that you?" he answers from the back, and it sends shivers down my spine to hear his voice. It's like I haven't heard it in years. I still can't believe how much I missed him.

"Hey," I greet, entering the back and feeling special because no one else was allowed to.

"Morning sweetheart, I didn't expect you to be up," he says to me, a welcoming smile on his face as he set down his brush. (Yes, he uses a brush to paint his cakes.) I lean against the counter and he embraces me awkwardly, careful not to get any frosting from his apron on my clothes. He tries to kiss me but I turn my head and step away slightly. He looks confused but seemingly lets it go.

"I'm sorry," I say, "I must not smell too good."

"Why wouldn't you?" he questions, returning to his work.

"I was throwing up this morning," I tell him, looking at my shoes. He's silent, and I can feel him looking at me, expecting me so say more.

"Well, do you know why?" he asks softly, coming back over to me.

"Peeta, what if I'm pregnant?" I look up at him, trying not to sound too scared.

"Don't be silly," he smiles nervously, "You wouldn't know for a few more months after the fact." He looks down at our fingers as they messed together.

"That doesn't answer my question," I retort. He's caught off guard for a moment but then pulls my chin up, forcing me to look at him.

"I would be so thrilled," he says, kissing me softly. He brushes his fingers against my neck, my hair. Then he lets go and goes back to his cake, picking up his brush and swirling more frosting onto something I couldn't quite make out. "And for what it's worth, you smell fine to me."

"Peeta, I'm pregnant," I say. It comes to me like an arrow to a deer; suddenly. As soon as it comes out I know it's true. He's silent, and from the looks of it frozen. "Peeta…"

"Are you kidding?" His sudden outburst makes me jump but before I realize that he's not angry, he's kissing me; he's holding me as tightly as possible and kissing me with all he has.

"What? You're okay with it?" I say, pushing him away slightly.

"Of course I am sweetheart! This is going to be so amazing!" he says, hugging me tightly. "I can't believe it's happening…when did you conceive?" he pulls back to look at me, to take in my stunned face. He puts his hands on my cheeks and smiles encouragingly.

"Just last night," I whisper, "I know it's not why I was throwing up this morning, but trust me, I know, we conceived," I say. I expect him to be upset that I had no proof, but he wasn't, he just hugged me once again.

"I guess we better start thinking of names then."

"It's so pretty I don't want to eat it!" I exclaim, laughing and taking the fork he hands me as he laughs with me. We were home and getting ready to eat the cake he'd made this morning, before he stocked up on the other cakes he'd made the rest of the day. We stayed until it was dark, talking about possible names and ideas. But the whole time I was terrified, I was scared of being wrong and letting Peeta down. What if I was wrong and last night we hadn't conceived? It just felt so…real. It was like something clicked.

"There's plenty more where this came from, and you haven't had one of my cakes in awhile, so eat up." He stabs it with his fork and takes a bite, grinning at me. I do as he says and scoop up a piece of my face. The picture was Peeta and I, standing on top of the cornucopia the first time we were in the games. Nothing could get us up there, Peeta explained, we were always safe as long as we were together.

Of course the cake was like heaven in my mouth, and I wished that we could share it with everyone, but what was really on my mind was Peeta. If I hadn't conceived last night, we would tonight. But…did I really want a child? Could I handle something like that? Peeta was excited enough, he says it was something he's wanted his entire life. He would make a spectacular father, and though I loved Prim and Rue, I couldn't see myself being a mother. I couldn't see myself hating it either. I was only willingly doing this because I knew it made him so happy.

After half of the cake was gone and the other half was in the refrigerator, I motioned for Peeta to follow me to the stairs. He looked confused but obliged.

"What's with the sudden urge to get to bed?" he asked as we got into the room.

"Make love with me?" I question, unzipping my jacket. He lifts his eyebrows and smiles slowly.

"Hmmm, make love to the woman carrying my child," he says as he watches me undress. "That's sexy." I laugh and the look in his eyes as the remove the rest of my clothing is priceless.

"I'll take that as a yes?" I lean back against the pillows and take my hair out of my braid, setting the tie on the dresser and watching him take his shirt off, still standing at the edge of the bed.

"Why though Katniss?" he asked, his voice muffled through the fabric.

"Why what?" I respond as he drops his pants. I'm never going to get used to this.

"Why do you want to make love?" he asks as he gets up on the bed with me, crawling over and spreading my legs, kissing my stomach and holding my legs above his shoulders as he worked his way down. I gasped, surprised at the sudden change in action. Peeta and I had never made love this way, and for him to so casually do it was odd.

"I just…I just want you and I love you," I answer nervously, looking down at him, stunned as he gently strokes my weak spots. How does he know where my weak spots are?

"Are you sure you're not just doing it to make sure you get pregnant?" he chuckles, licking a part of me that I didn't even know was so sensitive until he'd focused his tongue on it. I gasp, my hands shooting to his hair and neck.

"Peeta, what are you doing?" He looks up at me, almost apologetically.

"Just making love to you," he answers softly.

"But…but you've never done that before…so…and it…but why did it feel so good…?" I stutter, holding his cheek in my hand. "How do you know how to do that so well?" I question, immediately regretting it.

"The women at the capital, they made me do it. Several women wanted only this," he says quietly, looking up at my eyes with sorrow.

"I'm so sorry," is all I can say.

"Don't be. I'm trying to be positive about it; now I know what feels good for you," he smiles and softly strokes my stomach. My legs tremble and he returns his mouth to that one area. I let my head fall back and moan. I feel his hot breath on me, and I know he likes to hear my pleasure the same as I do his. His tongue does things I'll never understand and soon I'm not able to hold back the moans anymore, and I feel my pleasure rising. And rising, and rising some more…

"Peeta stop! Please, I want to make love with you," I plead, tangling my fingers in his messy blond hair. But he doesn't stop; he keeps circling his tongue and pushing his fingers in and out of me slowly. "Peeta!" I gasp, electric waves of ecstasy running through my body and my legs clench around him, my hands holding him there as I moaned. The most amazing orgasm I've ever known.

He comes up and I snatch his lips up in mine, wrapping my legs around him and begging for his entrance. I wanted his love, now. He sighs and wraps his arms around me, starting to make love to me and pulling away from my lips to groan from the sudden tightness around his manhood.

"You need to stop being so tight, or I won't last two minutes," he teases, kissing me as he thrusted into a rhythm.

"I would say sorry but I'm not," I breathed, holding his neck and his hair, opening my legs wider to give him more access.

"Katniss," he says, thrusting harder, making love to me harder, and kissing me more passionately.

"Yes?" I reply, but I can't help but gasp in the middle of my response, his moving become so urgent and he begins to moan beautifully. Did it really feel this good for him? Could he really be experiencing as much pleasure as I did moments ago?

"Katniss!" he says again, this time whimpering my name, kissing me harder than ever and his eyes squeezing shut. "I'm so close!" he says, stroking my face and I saw the pleasure written all over his. Already! Good, we'll do it a million times until I'm satisfied. I squeezed my legs around him, pushing him further inside me and holding him still. He pulled back to look at me, curiously, but I just smiled as I touched his face. His familiar, Peeta Mellark face. I almost couldn't wait to have his babies, and the thought of him coming in me again tonight gave me butterflies. I wanted him to. I wanted him to so badly!

"Come, Peeta, come for me," I whisper. And he nods, panting slightly. There's a thin layer of sweat covering his face and his back, and I run my fingers into his hair behind his ears. I just hold him, moaning with him and listening to him respond with strained whimpers. He's never been this loud before, and it's amazing to hear. Like my own secret fantasies brought to life. He's breathing desperately, every second he whimpers, and every other second he whimpers my name. He's warm and passionate and the feeling of him above me, encasing me and loving me, brought me to the edge of the universe and back. "Peeta," I whisper, and he cries my name once more before trembling and freezing his motions. "That's it honey, come Peeta, I love you so much," I say softly and warmly in his ear, his desperate cries of pleasure completely rocking my world. It was all I heard and all I felt. It was all I saw as I looked at his face. Just the beauty of it, told me that tonight was about us. Last night we'd conceived, but tonight was just for us. We had each other, and no matter what we couldn't be hurt anymore.

"Katniss!" he cries before his climax finally comes to an end. "Ohhh…" He buries his face in my neck and moans so very quietly. "That was so amazing…"

"I know you are…," I whisper.