(Warning from the Queen Of Plot Twists! This chapter contains Sexual Content and Explicit Depictions! Also, BDSM is involved. That is Bondage and Discipline, Dominance and Submission and or Sadism and Masochism, role play. View Discretion is advised to further on!

Thank you! Don't want to leave yallz scarred!

-Zeffie)

~A Few Weeks Later~

Peeta's P.O.V.

"Slow down," says Prim to Katniss. "I'm excited too, but don't get yourself in a twist." Katniss has been obsessed about planning Prim's wedding ever since it was "officially announced." Obsessed is an understatement. She's been ecstatic. In all honesty, it's freaking me out.

"How can I?" Katniss shrieks, shaking Prim's shoulders. "My baby sister is getting married!! It's like, in the older sister's job description to help with your wedding!"

Prim grins and shakes her head. "Still. It's gonna be a little while till the actual wedding happens. I only got engaged three weeks ago. So you gotta wait for a little!"

Katniss sighs and slumps down on the couch, groaning. "Fine, fine. I'll leave you alone now."

I chuckle and sit down next to her. "Did you hear the news?"

"What news?" Katniss asks, distracted.

"About Cato and Clove! Did you hear they're fostering? I think her name is Bailey," I explain.

"Really?" Katniss says, a little surprised. "To be honest, that doesn't seem like something they'd do."

"Katniss, you've only known them from middle school. They've changed, a lot. Remember how you used to hate Johanna?" I say, nudging her.

"I still kind of do," she mutters.

"Katniss!"

"Okay, okay, I don't hate her. I just don't really like her. She's... so mean and scary."

"You only don't like her because she is fierce and feisty like you. I think you guys are a lot alike. You should hang out sometime," I suggest.

She sighs and says, "Whatever. But what were you saying earlier about Cato and Clove's family?"

"Oh yeah. Well, they've started fostering kids! It sounded pretty cool, in my opinion," I say nonchalantly, trying to hide my desire. Fostering children has been one of my dreams for as long as I can remember. Adopting Aminata was wonderful but it only made me want to do more.

Katniss does look genuinely interested. "That does sound pretty cool. What agency did they foster through?"

"I'm not sure," I reply, sneaking a glance at Katniss. I can tell she sees straight through me. "You really like this idea, huh?" she asks quietly.

I look down, a little embarrassed. She knows me too well for me to conceal my thoughts. "Yeah," I say softly.

Katniss smiles at me and rests her hand on my arm. "I think we can find a way to do that. Aminata does need some friends, after all," she adds thoughtfully. "I'll talk to Clove this afternoon and ask her about it, okay?"

"Really?" I ask incredulously. "You would do that?"

"To be honest, I've been thinking about adopting another kid for years now. Our lives were just so busy, and I didn't want to interrupt anything," she admits.

I pull her in for a warm hug. She sighs and melts against me. We stay in this position for a while, until Prim comes charging in, shooing Katniss away from me. "You can cuddle later," she declares. "But now it is time for lunch. I made soup. At least I think it's soup. I just dumped some vegetables in broth and added salt. But you have to eat it because I made a lot of it."

Katniss groans. "Are you trying to poison us again, Rue?"

Everyone freezes. Katniss looks at the ground and tears come to her eyes. Aminata looks at us wide-eyed and I clench my fists. Prim shifts uncomfortably. "I'm sorry," Katniss whispers. "It just... came out. You remind me so much of her. I'm sorry."

She walks out of the room quickly, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. I take a deep breath in and out. Prim looks at me and then at Aminata. "Well," she says feebly. "Do you want lunch now?" Aminata nods and races to the kitchen, eager to escape the awkward scene. Prim follows her. I'm not sure whether to follow Katniss or just give her some space and eat my lunch. I decided to check on my wife since it was Rue's death that set us apart last time. When I knock on our bedroom door, she's sitting on the bed, looking at a picture of herself and Rue.

"Hey," I say softly. "Just wanted to make sure you're okay."

She looks up at me, eyes shining with tears. "I'm okay," she says. "I don't know why I said it. It just slips out sometimes. I still think about her, even twelve years after. I should have gotten over it by now."

I walk across the room and sit next to her. "Prim is a lot like Rue," I admit.

She gives a watery chuckle and leans her head on my shoulder. "That's why I loved her so much."

"You know, I'm sure Rue would love the idea of us fostering another child," I say, stroking her hair.

Katniss chuckles softly and replies, "Probably. You know, we should talk to Aminata before officially fostering. Just to make sure she's on board with it."

"What if she's not?"

"She'll learn to love the child eventually."

I laugh and tell her, "Okay, okay. Do you want to go to eat now? It seems like Prim has made us vegetables in salty water."

"Oh, hooray. My favorite food," she says sarcastically, then grabs my hand. "Let's go."

The "soup" that Prim made actually wasn't too awful. I mean, it was practically flavorless, but it wasn't horrible. "Next time," I tell her in between bites. "Maybe add some more seasoning."

Prim pretends to sniff haughtily before saying, "Well, I thought it was scrumptious."

Aminata and Katniss both burst out laughing. I smile and sprinkle some salt in before taking my next bite. After lunch, Prim says she has to go shopping, leaving us and Aminata. One glance from Katniss tells me that she's thinking the same thing as I am.

"Aminata?" she asks casually. "Is it alright if we talk to you for a little bit?"

Aminata looks at us worriedly before saying, "Sure... but am I in trouble?"

I laugh and tell her, "No, no. We just want your opinion on something."

"Okay..." she says doubtfully, following Katniss and I into the living room."

"I-" Katniss and I start simultaneously. She looks at me, smiling, and nods for me to continue. "Your mom and I, well, it's been a long time since we had you, and we love you so much that we decided that we would like another child," I say.

Aminata's eyes widen.

"We were thinking of fostering, then possibly adopting if everything turns out okay," Katniss explains. "But before we did anything, we wanted your opinion and to make sure everything was okay with you first."

Aminata claps her hands to her mouth and squeaks, "Really?! I've been wanting a younger sibling forever but didn't want to pressure you or ask because, well," she breaks off, looking awkward. She knows that Katniss had two miscarriages already. "But yeah, I adore that idea!" she finishes happily.

Katniss looks at me, clearly relieved. We both didn't know what to do if she had said no. "That's great, Ami," I tell her, smiling. "We're so glad that you're on board with it all. Clove and Cato actually adopted a little girl named Bailey last week, and we decided that was exactly what we've been wanting to do for a while." We all go in for a group hug before Aminata saunters off, saying she's going to call her friends about this "amazing new plan."

Two hours later, Katniss comes off the phone wearing an excited expression. "Clove told me everything! It's called Children's Home and Aid, and they are super helpful. She says that we should get together sometime soon and chat. It's been too long," she admits.

"Well, that's perfect," I say with a sly grin plastered on my face.

"Perfect?" She repeats.

"You know this already, but they live really close," I begin. "I'll call up Cato and we can invite them over for dinner."

"That sounds nice," she says, clearly hiding her excitement. She leaves after patting me on the shoulder, and I hear her and Prim making small talk in the other room. I pull out my phone, scrolling through my recent messages.

Did Clove convince Katniss? I send. His response is almost immediate.

Sure did.

Thank you. I've been wanting to ask her for so long. You guys up for dinner tonight? Ami is dying to meet Bailey. I stifle a laugh.

Haha. For sure. We'll bring dessert.

An easy job is done. I shove my phone in my pocket and attempt to eavesdrop on Katniss's wedding ideas for Prim, but I'm revealed and decide to join in the conversation.

"Pretty dress," is all I say. "Lots going on." Prim laughs. "Is that what you chose?"

"No," says Prim. "There are too many options. At the rate things are going, I won't have a dress picked out until after the wedding." We erupt into a chorus of laughs.

"Well, we've narrowed it down to five, at least," Katniss says. "That's some progress."

"It would have been six if you had let me keep that dress! It was beautiful!" Prim responds, pretending to be sad.

"No, it was revolting. It literally had pink sequins all over it," Katniss states bluntly.

"It was lovely," Prim argues. "And may I remind you that it's my wedding."

Katniss rolls her eyes and pokes Prim. "I saved you. You're welcome!"

I decide not to intervene and announce, "We have guests for dinner, so I'd drop the dress conversation and help prepare."

Katniss smiles and sets down a pale blue dress, while Prim looks confused.

"All right. What are we having?" Katniss asks.

"I'm not sure but I was thinking either spaghetti or lasagna," I say.

"Okay, for sure lasagna then."

I smile and tell her, "You and your lasagna. All right, come help me make it then! We have two hours!"

As soon as we get to the kitchen, Aminata comes out of her bedroom, eager to help. "Oooh! Lasagna! May I be of any assistance?"

Recently, Aminata has been using big words in order to seem more mature for when Cato and Clove arrive. She claims that her language will "catch their attention" and they'll "admire her advanced words" so that they'll think she's "older than she actually is." This is all part of her plan to become a babysitter for Bailey.

Katniss laughs. "Ami, I'm sure they'll think you're mature enough without the fancy language. But yes, you can be of assistance. Would you get the pasta out from the cupboard please?"

Aminata grins and complies. Soon, we're in the middle of making it, but nobody warned us how difficult family cooking is. We got into more arguments than I thought possible.

"No, Peeta, hon, that's not a third of a cup, that's a quarter."

"Oh."

"And I think you put an excessive amount of salt in there, Dad."

"Who's the baker here?!"

"Sorry."

Several spills, messes, and a shattered bowl later, two pans of lasagna are baking in the oven. Katniss and Prim clear off the table while Aminata frantically stirs the lemonade that she insisted upon making. When everything is at last ready and out on the table, we hear the doorbell chime.

Aminata squeaks and dashes behind me, while Katniss opens the door. "Hey, everyone!" she says.

Clove and Cato look a lot different than they did in middle school. Clove's hair is longer and darker, and thankfully she ditched the bizarre hairstyles that she flaunted in sixth grade. Her face looks a lot nicer when it's not screwed up in a scowl. Cato has grown a small goatee and, in all honesty, looks like a different person. Their daughter, Bailey, holds tight to her mother's leg and peers cautiously around to take the new scene in.

"Hey man,'' Cato says, shaking my hand in the traditional "bro" style. Since Clove and my wife are not exactly the hugging type, they exchange smiles and Katniss leads her to the kitchen. Bailey trots eagerly behind Clove.

"I just wanted to say, it's really good to see you again, after all this time," Cato says, a little uncomfortably. "And I know it was a while ago, but I'm really sorry for being an asshole in middle school. Now that I look back on it, I was a real jerk. So I'm sorry, and hope I can make it up to you with a chocolate cake?" He lifts the bag in his right hand.

I laugh and say, "No hard feelings. That was a while ago. Anyway, are you guys hungry now or do you want to wait a bit? The food is all prepared, but we're ready when you are."

Cato grins. "I'm hungry now, but I'll have to ask the wife. She's in charge of, like, everything."

"I feel you," I tell him, leading him into the kitchen. "Katniss scares me sometimes."

Cato chuckles and asks, "Where should I put the cake?"

"Oh, the fridge is fine."

The rest of the evening passes by quickly. I enjoy myself a lot more than I thought I would. Clove and Cato make a really good company and I find myself enjoying the presence of my former enemies. Dinner is a hit and there are no leftovers. Even Aminata's lemonade is gone!

Bailey and Aminata are now best of friends. Bailey follows her around everywhere, and Aminata has even taught her to make bracelets. And she hasn't even used any big words!

The adults gather in the living room to drink and talk while Aminata shows Bailey videos in her room. Clove starts it out saying, "So, are you guys looking to just foster, or foster-to-adopt?"

I glance at Katniss, who shrugs. "I think we're looking for a more long-term thing, so adopting would be cool."

Clove nods at Cato, who says, "Okay. And do you guys have an age preference or anything?"

This time, Katniss speaks for us. "Not a baby-"

"-but not anyone older than Aminata," I finish. She nods.

"That's reasonable. I think you guys can have a new kid in your house in a few weeks if you call the agency tomorrow."

I feel a rush of excitement and love at the thought of another child in our house so soon. I can tell Katniss feels the same way.

"How did you guys feel about doing it for the first time?" Katniss blurts out. Cato and Clove consider this for a minute before saying anything. "Well, it was scary, obviously because we'd never done anything like that before. And it definitely takes some getting used to. But all worth it in the end."

I nod, feeling reassured.

"So..." Clove says slyly. "Have you guys heard of anyone else from our class?"

The remainder of the night flies by. It's filled with laughter, memories, stories, and champagne. We all make promises to do it again soon, especially if more chocolate cake is involved. When they finally leave, Aminata is practically falling asleep on the couch. I gently carry her upstairs and she's in a deep sleep within seconds.

~Two Days Later~

Katniss's P.O.V.

"Here we have a funeral, so nothing too colorful or popping. I think the person that died was pretty young too, so make it sad," Cinna explains.

"Got it... so the color theme is purple and black, right?" I clarify.

"Right you are."

"All right, so I was thinking of maybe some Ipomoea and purple tulips?"

"That would be lovely. I'll leave the rest to you to figure out. I'll be in the back if you need anything," Cinna says, patting my back, then walking out the door. I grin and resume my research and pruning.

Since the flower shop was shut down, Cinna has been working as a designer. He organizes and provides arrangements and themes for events such as weddings, funerals, parties, and more. It wasn't until recently that he hired me again to help with the flower arrangements on his products. It wasn't until then, either, that I realized how much I've missed working with him. I get to work with plants I love and help out a good friend of mine. And the paycheck isn't too bad either since there are only a few of us.

I resume my work while eating a sandwich that Peeta made. Should we try roses? Black roses tend to portray death but we don't have any in stock right now... I decide on chrysanthemums, which also symbolize death, but are less depressing than black roses.

The time flies by, and soon, it's time for me to go. Cinna has already left- all I need to do is put away the flowers and lock up. I put away the flowers and place an order for twenty chrysanthemums and fifteen purple tulips. I put away the vases and paints, but not before dropping one of them on the ground.

It crashes to the floor and shatters into a million little shards, but that's not the worst part. That vase was one of the most expensive and valuable ones in the whole store. It was an artifact from hundreds of years ago and because of my clumsiness, it's broken. Cinna will kill me.

I let out a frustrated groan and begin to sweep up the shards. Hopes of being able to rebuild it vanish as I realize it's in millions of fragments. Once everything is swept up, I lock the door behind me and head home, ashamed and irritated at my carelessness. Even when I'm in front of the house, I don't want to come out of the car. I know Peeta will try and sympathize with me but I don't want his pity. It's been a long day.

"God damn, I've had the worst day," I say, dropping my bag and coat as soon as I walk in the front door.

"I can't hear you; I'm in here," Peeta calls from the kitchen.

I follow the enticing aroma of rosemary and garlic down the hallway and through the dining room, where I can just make out Peeta's form through the doorway to the kitchen, standing at the counter with his back to me.

I sidle up behind him and wrap my arms around his waist as he slices bread so fresh I can see the steam rising with each cut.

"Hello, Husband," I greet him, my face pressed between his shoulder blades.

"Hello, beautiful Wife. Go sit down and I'll bring you a beer. Dinner will be done shortly,"

"Where is Ami?" I ask a plant a kiss on his cheek.

"Sleepover at the Hadley's. Bailey wanted Ami to come over. Clove and Cato were okay with it." He explains.

"Oh, okay," I say.

"Take a seat, be done soon." He says and kisses my temple.

I head into the living room and sit down in the middle of the couch, untying the heavy, steel-tipped boots that my job sometimes forces me to wear. I'd rather wear my leather hunting boots, the ones that allow me to be more comfortable in the shop and greenhouse. But Cinna insists.

I prop my feet up on the coffee table and accept the beer that Peeta offers. I take a sip, tasting the bitter hops on my tongue.

"What's for dinner?" I call over my shoulder.

"Rosemary chicken, baked potatoes and broccoli. I baked bread today, too," he answers.

I finish my beer and lean back into the cushions. I doze off at some point because Peeta has to shake my shoulder to tell me dinner is ready.

Over the meal he has prepared, he tells me about his day; the new painting that he is working on for his floor opening next week, the slightly altered bread recipe he tried, and the discovery that he had purchased the wrong type of laundry detergent. Also, trouble with Rosie and Aminata. I love hearing about his days; it makes me wish I could be home with him all the time.

"How was your day?" he asks.

"A nightmare. I picked up the wrong order and didn't realize it until it got there. Then I realized that the flowers were the wrong shade, so I have to completely redesign the arrangement. It's going to set the show that Cinna had planned back at least a week," I tell him.

"Sounds like you need to relax. Go to the living room and put something on TV. I'll clean up here and join you in a minute."

I do as I'm told and settle once more on the couch. After the kitchen is clean to his standards, Peeta sits next to me, putting his arm around my shoulders and pulling me to his side.

When the closing credits to the 6 o'clock news start to roll, Peeta grabs my braid a little roughly and tugs my head back so that my neck is completely exposed. He licks up my neck, making his way to my ear and my panties drench at the realization that it is going to be one of those nights. My favorite kind of night.

"Go into the bedroom and find your sheer black panties. I want you standing up against the wall, facing it, wearing nothing but those. Keep the braid. You have five minutes," he whispers into my ear, releasing his hold on my hair.

"Yes... sir." I scramble up from the couch, showing him how much I'm anticipating what's about to transpire by using our agreed-upon title.

After a few minutes of staring at the white wall, I hear Peeta enter the bedroom. I hear him approach me, stepping lightly across the carpet. He passes and walks to the dresser on my right, opening the top drawer and pulling out various items. Only after he arranges his selections on the top of the dresser does he acknowledge me.

"Good girl, doing just what you've been told. I'll remember that. But first things first. We can't have you seeing what's coming, can we?" he says, his voice light and soothing. I love it when he takes that tone and, when we play like this, I strive to make him call me a good girl.

Before he slips the blindfold over my eyes I catch a glimpse of him – shirt unbuttoned to expose his firm, smooth chest, and stomach, his jeans slung low on his hips from his lack of a belt. I feel the twitching between my legs at the mere sight of him. Before I can drink him in fully he slips the thick black fabric over my eyes, plunging me into darkness.

The first time he blindfolded me, I hated it. I hated the fact that I couldn't see his body, couldn't see what he was doing to mine. But I quickly learned to love the way that it heightened my senses and how it gave him complete and utter control over me. Now, I crave it.

"I got something new for you today. I've been thinking about using it on you all day. All I've thought about today was playing with you. Do you want to play, Katniss?" he says directly into my ear, his voice still soft.

I swallow. "Yes."

He grabs my braid and tugs sharply. "Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir," I correct myself.

"Good girl. Now, do you want to feel what I've got for you?" he asks.

"Yes, please, sir."

He doesn't respond; he just rolls his wrist up and down my back. I can feel the sharp jab of the spikes on my skin. It aches slightly, but I want more.

"Put your hands against the wall and spread your legs," Peeta tells me.

I comply immediately, knowing that there will be consequences if I don't. He keeps his grip on my braid, the spikes digging into my back, and reaches down between my legs with his free hand. He rubs my slit beneath the fabric of my panties, his middle finger briefly teasing my clit.

"Already so wet," he murmurs.

Peeta continues to rub the spikes over my skin, this time down my legs and between my thighs, the sharp metal rough against the soft, sensitive skin there. I let out a long, low moan.

"Do you like that?"

"Yes, sir. I like it," I answer.

"I think you like it a little too much, so that's enough of that." I hear him remove the cuff and toss it onto the dresser. "Take off your panties and kneel down so that you're facing me."

I do as he says, and I feel him so close in front of me, but he doesn't touch me. I don't reach out to touch him either, even though part of me wants to, just to get the punishment. Sometimes I purposely seek punishment, and those nights are so frustrating yet satisfying for us both. But tonight isn't one of those nights, so I decide to be a good little submissive and keep my hands at my sides.

He crosses the room and grabs his next toy off of the dresser. This time when he comes back, he is behind me.

"Hands behind your back," he commands.

He takes my small wrists in one of his hands and uses the other to wrap the thick, silk rope around them, binding my hands tightly behind my back. The position forces my chest out and I spread my knees wider to keep my balance.

The binding was another thing that bothered me when we first started experimenting with BDSM. Not as much as the blindfold, but enough that I had to get used to it. What Peeta and I have learned is that all of our play – the tying up, the gagging, and the blindfolding – needs to be done with a certain level of trust. I trust Peeta beyond anyone or anything else. When I realized that, I was able to let go and fully enjoy both the pleasure and the pain.

When he is satisfied with his knot, he stands and moves in front of me. I hear the zipper of his jeans and I instinctively open my mouth wide for him.

"Such a good girl, Katniss. I'm impressed," he says.

Before I can respond, his hands are on my head and his thick, solid cock is filling my mouth. He holds my head still and rocks his hips back and forth, fucking my mouth.

He keeps a steady rhythm, letting out low moans as his hands tangle in my hair, gripping my head tightly. Every so often I gag, eliciting a growl from his throat.

"Suck," he commands. I obey, rolling my lips over my teeth and sucking hard. His grip on my hair is making my eyes water underneath the blindfold, but it's still not enough for me; I want him to pull even harder.

After a few minutes, he abruptly pulls his cock from my mouth. I let out a whimper of frustration at the loss of him.

"I'm not going to cum in your mouth, Katniss," he says, reaching behind me to unravel the rope binding my wrists. He gently lifts me to my feet, making sure that I can stand without wobbling, and leads me over to the bed. He bends me over so that I'm leaning on the footboard, my torso horizontal with the floor.

"Spread your legs, Katniss. I'm trusting you to hold onto that bed, don't let go. If you let go, I won't let you come. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir," I respond.

I feel Peeta kneel between my legs and I don't have any time to prepare myself before his mouth is on my sex. I cry out and my knees almost buckle before I catch myself. He puts his hands on my legs, steadying me.

Peeta's teeth and tongue work me to the brink of orgasm. I can feel it in my lower belly, coiled tight and hot, ready to spring free. Right as I am about to lose myself, Peeta's mouth is gone, as quickly as it came. I let out a frustrated growl.

"Does it feel good? Do you like it when I lick you?" he asks, his voice sugary sweet.

"Yes, sir," I answer, the annoyance apparent in my voice.

"Do you want me to keep going?"

"Yes, please. Sir."

"One condition: do not come until I tell you to. If you come before I say you can, I'll spank you," he tells me.

He continues the pattern a few times, bringing me to the edge, only to pull back, leaving me feeling unfulfilled. But when he slips two fingers into my opening, I can't help it, I unravel. I come hard, my body shaking.

He lets me ride out my orgasm before removing his fingers and standing behind me.

"I certainly hope that was worth it, Katniss," he whispers in my ear, his hand caressing my left ass cheek. I tense, anticipating the blow.

"You're going to count. And then you're going to thank me. Let's make it an even 10," he says before lifting his hand and bringing it back down with a stinging slap.

"One! Thank you, sir," I gasp.

He continues to ten, caressing the inflamed skin between each blow. Tears spring to my eyes on the seventh blow, but I continue counting and my center continues to grow wetter and wetter.

"Your ass is a delicious shade of red right now, baby. My palm is stinging. Do you want me to fuck you?" he asks after he delivers the last blow.

"Yes, sir. Please, please fuck me," I beg, beyond caring how I sound. I let out a choked sob, my knuckles gripping the bed. My body is aching to be filled with him at this point.

"That wasn't so convincing, Katniss. I think you can do better than that," he taunts.

"Please, sir. I need you to fuck me. Please let me come again," I beg again, my voice high-pitched.

Peeta doesn't answer; he just positions himself behind me and buries himself inside of me in one quick thrust. He grabs my waist and begins thrusting at an agonizingly slow pace.

"Like this?" he asks.

"Faster, please," I whine.

He picks up the pace, his hips slamming against the hot, raw skin of my ass. He reaches down to brush his fingers over my clit – once, twice, three times. On his fourth stroke, lights burst behind my eyelids and my knees buckle. Peeta's arm hooks underneath my torso, holding me up, and before I even have time to come back to Earth, his thrusts quicken and I feel him spill hotly inside of me.

We collapse in a pile of sweating, aching limbs on the floor at the foot of the bed. Peeta pulls my blindfold off and settles my head into the crook of his arm. We lay this way until our breathing slows.

When we are both breathing evenly, Peeta gently lowers my head to the floor and stands to rifle in his night table drawer. He returns to me with a bottle of aloe in his hand.

"Flip over, baby," he tells me, and I roll onto my stomach.

He applies the cool lotion with a loving touch, smoothing it over my still hot skin, liberally and evenly. When he's finished, he grabs a pair of cotton panties – experience has shown us that they are the most comfortable after a good spanking – and an oversized tee-shirt.

Peeta props me up and helps me dress, my limbs still shaking and jelly-like from the force of my orgasms. After I'm dressed, he pulls on a pair of pajama pants and helps me to my feet, his hands on my hips.

"You ok, my love?" he asks me, his Dominant voice replaced by his Husband's voice.

I answer him by reaching my arms around his neck and giving him a deep, slow kiss. He sighs into it and responds, his kisses are languid and drawn out.

I pull away and give him a sly grin, gazing up at him through my eyelashes. "Make me some macaroni and cheese?"

He just chuckles and leads me into the kitchen.

We relax on the couch and eat our amazing meal that my amazing, husband made. I fel week and lazy from our, "before meal" that I go to our room and change into my sleeping clothes. I ly down in out bed. Peeta comes in a few moents later.

He gives me a small, pained smile, then reluctantly pulls his hand out of mine to head to the bathroom. "I'll be right back," he promises before pulling the door behind him. He doesn't lock it or even shut it, and I wonder if he has the same worry that I did.

I sit on the edge of the bed, my nails digging into the covers, and stares off into space. The voice in my head is screaming, reminding me that this is the very last time she and Peeta will ever be alone. but I push those thoughts away. Being a parent will be a wonderful thing again.

I can hear the water running now, and my eyes catch on the bright fluorescent light from the vanity as it streams through the small opening from the door. Peeta is moving around the bathroom, loudly, and I imagine he's shedding his clothes before he steps into the shower.

I cross the room quickly, reaching for the zipper of my gown, unsuccessfully trying to rid it from my body. Finally, my fingers catch on the hidden metal closure, and I tug it down. The dress falls to the floor, pooling at my feet, and I step out of it and head to the bathroom.

Thick steam envelops me as soon as I enter, and I begin pulling at the pins and wayward feathers in my hair. Taking a deep, calming breath, I slowly strip out of my silk undergarments and then kicks them toward the other pile of clothes on the floor.

Peeta does not have a hunter's grace or ear, so he doesn't hear me as I step into the shower, but I ignore it as it soaks her bare body. I'm too busy staring at Peeta's beautiful, naked form to care much about anything else.

Rivulets of water race down his muscular back as it flexes with the movements he makes to wash. He scrubs at his face, then runs his hands up through his thick hair. I lick the corner of my mouth, the tip of my tongue catching a drop of water as I do it.

He doesn't smell of the way he did anymore when we were younger; it's more of musk with a hint of sandalwood, and while I prefer his own scent of spices and sweetness. The soapy bubbles mix with the water as they glide down his body, but I haven't allowed my eyes to dip below his waist. Instead, I focus on his shoulders and arms as he lifts them to thoroughly wash his saturated curls.

"Peeta," I say, calling out loud enough to be heard over the sound of multiple showerheads on full blast.

He freezes, his arms dropping to his sides as he slowly pivots on the heel of his foot. He stares at me with wide, shocked eyes, which then drift down from my face to my body. I swallow past the thick lump in my throat as he stares at me, unabashed.

"What are you doing?" he finally asks, though not unkindly. I shake my head because, for the life of me, I can't remember what compelled me to join him.

I look back up at him, and he dips his head under one of the water jets to rinse the suds from his hair. Then he brushes the wet strands off of his forehead, and I know I'm gawking but I can't find the will to care. "You can touch me," he says.

"Touch me first," I say.

"Please touch me," he asks desperately.

She reaches out to wrap her hand around his length, and he moans softly at the contact as his body shivers.

"Yes," he gasps.

I step closer to him as I slowly pump my hand, and his mouth falls open when my stomach brushes his hip. "Kiss me," I command, and his lips roughly find mines with next to no grace.

He finally moves his hand off of my breast, and he wraps one arm around me as the other moves down to hitch my leg up around his waist. "Oh," I moan, pulling my hand out from between their bodies so I can wind my arms around his neck. He thrusts lightly, rocking back and forth between my legs, against me, not inside of me. But as my fingers find his wet hair and my nails dig into his scalp, I realize that I want that. I want to be joined with him, to feel him moving within me. For what could be the last time in months. Maybe even years.

I'm going to tell him that he can have me that way, but then he's crying out my name, and I can feel it as he comes, his entire body shaking lightly. Then he kisses me again, panting against my open mouth. "Katniss," he says.

"I know."

We wash and dry quickly, and he's acting very shy, so I take his hand and squeezes it.

"Come on," I say with a light laugh. I lead him to the bed, and I change into a clean nightgown and he puts back on his shorts and shirt, and then we both climb under the covers.

I can feel myself getting turned on, causing me to begin to squirm beneath him.

He notices and looks up at me. "What is it? Am I tickling you?" he asks, his hands stopping.

"Not exactly," I say and bite my lip.

Understanding dawns on him and he smirks. He takes the hem of my shirt and starts kissing up my stomach while pulling my shirt up.

"How rude of me," he says between kisses, the vibrations of his voice making me moan. "You just gave me a wonderful gift. I have yet to give you a proper thank you."

"Do you have something in mind?" I ask just as he lifts the shirt over my breasts.

"You'll see," he answers before kissing the flesh that is not covered by my bra.

I arch my back towards him, but Peeta pulls back and helps me sit so he can get the shirt off over my head. His lips are on mine the second the garment is gone. Before he can lay me down on my back again, I practically rip the front of his shirt, making the buttons fly in every direction and causing Peeta to smile against my lips. I push the fabric down his arms and as soon as he is free, his arms are around me and his hands are working at the clasp of my bra. Torturously slow he slips the straps down my arms, exposing my breasts to his hungry gaze.

When I'm bare from the waist up, he lowers me onto my back and starts kissing my neck, down to my chest where he cups one breast in his hand and massages gently while taking the nipple of the other breast into his mouth. My hands are instantly on his hair to keep him right where he is despite the fact that my breasts are tender. I hiss a little when he pinches the tip of my breast. It's some kind of pleasurable pain.

Peeta lifts his head. "Did I hurt you?" he asks, worries in his voice and eyes.

I shake my head. "Go on. Don't stop. Please."

He smirks and switches his mouth to my other breast. Each stroke of his tongue causes a moan to leave my lips. After giving my nipple the same attention he gave the other one, Peeta continues his descent on my body, kissing down my belly until he reaches my pants.

Peeta drags my pants and underwear down my legs and throws them behind him before he starts his way up my legs by alternating kisses between each one and spreading me a little further apart as he goes. The closer he gets where I want him the most, the more I writhe beneath his lips and touch. When he reaches my most private area, he puts his hands on my inner thighs, keeping me spread wide and completely exposed to him. He slowly licks his lips before I feel the first delicious swipe of his tongue sliding up my folds. His name leaves my lips like a prayer.

"You're so wet," he murmurs against my skin, the vibrations of his voice causing me to arch my back and grip the sheets. "I love the way you taste. I could taste you forever and never get tired of the flavor." He says right before grazing my bundle of nerves with his teeth.

His words have me gripping his hair while he licks me over and over again. Every time I tug his golden locks, he sucks my clit into his mouth. It is not long before I feel my orgasm building. My muscles get tighter and tighter with every flick of his tongue over me. He sucks my clit one last time, humming at the same time and I'm lost, gone, flying, falling, all at the same time. I can feel him licking the juices at my entrance, prolonging my pleasure.

As I come down from my oral sex induced high and my breathing returns to normal, I'm vaguely aware of him moving from between my legs and slowly up my body until he reaches my mouth and kisses me leisurely. The taste of myself on his tongue has me ready to go again in no time.

Without breaking the kiss, Peeta rolls us over so I'm on top of him while he caresses my bareback. His hands softly travel down until he grips my butt and pushes my hips against his so I can feel how hard and ready he is for me.

He kisses his way towards my ear. "We're not done yet, my love," he whispers before gently biting down on the lobe, making me buck against him. He groans at that, something that sounds like my name and then lets go of my flesh. "Finish undressing me, Katniss," he says, his voice low and sexy.

He doesn't have to tell me twice. I imitate what he did with me and kiss my way down his body, raking my nails on his skin a little as I run my hands over his toned muscles and I feel them rippling beneath my touch. When my hands reach his pants, I swirl my tongue around in his navel while undoing the button and zipper. Just like him, I pull the pants and boxers together down his legs, making him spring free. I lick my lips at the sight.

As soon as his pants hit the floor, I'm face to face with one of my favorite parts of Peeta's body: his erection. He looks down at me just in time to watch me take him into my mouth. He's my favorite treat in the world.

I start to bob my head up and down, causing his hands to go to my hair. He moans my name every time I hum around him and his hips start to thrust into my mouth, so I relax my throat to take him as deep as I can. I swirl my tongue around him with every upward pass and use my hand to stroke what I can't fit in my mouth. I don't do it for too long, though, because I want to feel him come inside me. It's what we both like when making love.

I let him out of my mouth and kiss my way up his body as he did with me. When I reach his mouth, Peeta sits up and I think he's going to flip us over again, but he just accommodates my legs on either side of his hips so I'm straddling him. Resting his hands on the small of my back, he starts nibbling my chin, to the side of my neck until he finds the spot below my ear that makes me mewl and arch my back into him. He was expecting that reaction because my breasts immediately land in his waiting palms.

He nibbles on that spot once more before whispering in my ear. "I want you to ride me."

A shiver runs down my spine. I love to ride him, so my hand automatically goes to his throbbing member to align it with my entrance and I sink onto him, making Peeta groan and I sigh. He feels so deep inside of me in this position that it's impossible to know where one ends and the other begins; I just love it.

Peeta goes to lay back down to enjoy the view, but I grip the back of his head with both hands to keep him sitting up. "Stay with me," I breathe against his mouth. I don't want him away; I want to feel as much of his skin pressed against my own as possible.

"Always," he exhales, wrapping his arms around my waist.

We stay like that for a long moment. Neither of us moves, we just enjoy the feeling of being connected in every possible way, body, and soul. One of his hands travels up my back until he reaches the end of my braid. He tugs on the elastic band and slowly – and without really meaning to, sensually – he unravels my hair, so it flows in soft curls down my back.

"I love you, Katniss," he whispers before kissing me sweetly.

That's when I begin to move, a slow rocking of my hips against his at first. Peeta's hands settle on my hips to steady my movements. Soon the light rocking is not enough for me, so I start to move up and down his length. I can tell that is also what he needed by the way he squeezes my hips as I move above him and he groans my name.

I increase the speed and force of my movements, my hands fisting his golden curls. By now we're not kissing as much as panting into each other's mouths. Each time our hips collide, my clit hits his pelvic bone, making me arch my body and throw my head back. Soon I feel him starting to thrust up into me, intensifying the stimulation on my clit and giving me the first signal that he is getting close to his climax, so I move faster and harder over him, trying to get us both there together. I know he is really close when I feel his hand snake between our bodies to rub me, making me scream his name to the ceiling.

"I'm too close, Katniss," he confirms. "I need you to come with me. Please."

The feel of his fingers on my sensitive bud, his words, and the heat in them, all combined, send me flying over the edge, clawing at his back and calling out his name desperately as I feel myself contract around him. A second later, Peeta is there with me, his body stiffening beneath mine, his arms squeezing me against him and biting down on my shoulder as his cock throbs inside me and his come spills out, filling me with him.

When we come back down to earth and our breaths calm down a little, Peeta kisses my shoulder and we fall back down to the mattress. He slips out of me and then rolls us so we're laying on our sides facing each other. I close my eyes and relax as he caresses my cheek tenderly. I'm about to doze off when his hand stops. His breathing is even after catching his breath. His breathing is now heavy and I let myself fall asleep in his arms.

~Next Day~

"What did you and Bailey do?" Peeta asks, hugging Aminata.

"We ate a lot of good food and Clove helped us make some awesome crafts," Aminata replies happily.

"That's awesome!"

Aminata smiles. "But the best part was, they told me that once I'm a little older, I could babysit her!!"

Peeta and I laugh. Her dreams have finally come true. We all move into a group hug, clinging to each other, knowing that these nights are the few remaining ones with just the four of us.

Soon, Aminata dashes out from beneath our arms saying, "Bailey sait she'd send me a letter. I'm gonna go check!"

Laughing, I say, "Baby, if she sent you a letter today, it's not coming for a few days."

"I'll still check!"

Unsurprisingly, she comes back with a few advertisements and an important-looking legal letter addressed to Peeta, which she shoves into his hands.

He frowns and takes it into his hands. He tears open the envelope and from the moment his eyes widen in horror, I know something is wrong.

Peeta turns pale and drops the letter in shaking hands. "No," he says wildly. "I can't... There's no way they can make me do it. I won't!!" He pulls tight fistfulls of his hair and looks quite deranged. I am scared to pick up the letter, especially after the frightful reaction it caused. Just as I reach down to touch it, Finnick bursts through the front door.

His face tells me all I need to know. "Ami," I tell her quickly. "Go to your room for a minute. You're not in trouble but this is grown-up business, okay? We'll tell you later." She nods and shoots her father a worried look before dashing upstairs.

"You got it too?" Finnick asks, shaking.

Peeta looks at him and nods. They both look at each other. I am clearly missing something.

"Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?" I demand, reaching to pick up the letter. Peeta tenses but allows me to read it.

Dear Mr. Peeta Mellark,

You are hereby ordered for induction into the Armed Forces of Panem, and to report at Central Regiment Station on Tuesday, May 15 (thirty days) at 3 pm for forwarding to an Armed Forces Induction Station. We thank you in advance for your service.

You may be found not qualified for induction. Keep this in mind when arranging your affairs, to prevent any undue hardship if not inducted. If employed, inform your employer of this possibility.

Some items to remember are your Social Security Card, and your Proof of Residency. Also consider bringing enough money to last a month for personal purchases, as well as three pairs of clean clothes.

Failure to follow the guidelines listed above will result in imprisonment.

This is a time of need, and times of need require every citizen to work together and make sacrifices. On behalf of the entire country, we thank you for your service.

Sincerely,

Sargent Seneca Crane

Central Regiment

Commanding Officer

The letter drops out of my hand and times stop in my world.

Little did we know how much that one letter would forever change our lives. And the things to follow...

OOh! what is going on?! How will this play out?! AHCK! WAR??? OOOHHHH!!!! XD, thank yall for reading! hope you guys liked it! Leave a vote and a comment! We love you!❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

baii!

-Zeffie, Grace and Aaliyah!