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#finnick request
queuestarter · 3 months
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dreamt
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(finnick odair x reader)
cw: childbirth
link to the request → finnick is scared for reader as she goes into labor
open to requests !!
Finnick was scared.
After forty long weeks, you’re finally ready to have your baby.
For the duration of the pregnancy, he’s been hovering over you like a mother hen. Constantly making sure that you feel comfortable, that you have had enough to eat and drink, rising with you at odd hours of the morning just so you can open the window to smell the salt air.
But now that it’s actually time for the baby to come, he feels completely powerless.
There’s nothing that he can really do for you besides hold your hand and ask how you’re feeling. The midwife is taking care of both you and the baby excellently, but the lack of control over the situation is scaring him beyond belief.
“Fuck,” you groan as another contraction hits you. Finnick immediately sets down the blanket he was stress folding and rushes to your side. You’re in the bathtub at the moment, having decided that you wanted to do a water birth. 
“Is everything okay? What’s wrong?” He sends a look to the midwife, who looks at him unimpressed.
“She’s fine. Her contractions are getting closer together, so we can start to expect her to begin pushing at any moment.”
Finnick blinks twice. He knew this moment was coming but having it be so close now is terrifying. “Is she ready? Is the baby even ready for that?”
The midwife lets out a sigh, brushing a cool towel over your forehead. “The contractions are letting us know that both baby and mama are ready for labor. Mr. Odair, how about you hold your wife’s hand and support her?”
Finnick rushes to put his hand in yours, eyebrows furrowing when he feels you squeeze the life out of his palm. “What can I do for you, my love?”
“Nothing,” you grunt. “Just stay there. I feel like pushing.”
Finnick can feel the blood drain from his face. He didn’t expect things to progress so quickly. “Oh. Okay, that’s fine. You’ve got this, my love. I’ll be right here the entire time.”
Even though he’s scared out of his mind, Finnick does his best to comfort you during labor. He keeps one of his hands clasped with yours, the other rubbing soothing circles on your lower back. When the midwife says that it’s finally time to push, he whispers encouraging words in your ears the entire time.
He puts his fears to the side to make sure that you feel as safe and loved as possible.
He only feels settled when he hears the cry of your son ring out in the air. When you let out a final sigh of contentment and hold your beautiful baby in your arms. This is what everything has been leading up to and neither of you could be happier.
“He’s beautiful,” you cry, running a finger down the bridge of his nose. “He looks just like you.” You’ve both left the bathroom and settled into your bed.
Finnick wipes his own tears away, choking down a sob. He doesn’t think the baby looks like much of anything right now, but he doesn’t say that. Instead he cradles the both of you in his own arms and stares down at the two loves of his life. “Thank you for giving me such a perfect life. I never thought I would be able to have this.”
“Thank you,” you whisper back. “This is everything I’ve ever wanted.”
Finnick plants a kiss on your neck before breathing the moment in.
He agrees- this is everything he’s ever wanted, as well.
-
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inthelquvre · 5 months
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finnick odair who brings you back seashells and pearls after a day at the beach. and finnick odair who eventually steals the trinkets out of your room and weaves them into a delicate necklace for you to wear. and finnick odair who’s heart beats a little faster every time your collarbones are exposed, showing of his gift to you. finnick odair who smiles when he sees your friends asking where your necklace is from, only to see your point his direction with a smile<3
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motelofmermaids · 4 months
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I love your writing sm and was wondering if you could right a Finnick x reader where she’s not very experienced and he has to teach her how to ride him and is just super fluffy and sweet? 🫶🫶
this is such a good request… oh my lord. (this is so long, my apologies, but this had my brain WORKING!)
it started off with you in finnick’s kitchen, sitting at the table with an open book disregarded to the side. you were picking at your nails, nervousness racking at you, knee softly bouncing. finnick was out, helping a local fisher distribute catch to the neighboring shops. you weren’t sure when he’d return, but curiosity and nerves prickled under your skin; your face and neck hot from the previous chapter you’ve read in that book. it was a novel that caught your attention at the market a few days ago, the owner promising a ‘good time with that lil’ gem.’ so, with little to no persuasion, you bought it.
it was a beautiful read, as far as you’ve gotten. until you reached a chapter where the main character had a girl on top, riding him—the man doing hardly any work. you gasped, immediately pushing it off to the side. it wasn’t a lie that you lacked the experience, finnick loved you no less, of course. however, it didn’t help the guilt that tickled at your lower stomach, always letting him do the work. as skilled as that man was, with you not even coming close. you had sighed, slumping a little bit lower into the chair. wondering what you’d be like in the woman’s position, you assumed it’d be as artistic as the main character described it. how the lady’s thighs would shake, but she was persistent, chasing her own pleasure she had earned from working so hard.
you heard the door open, immediately sitting up and head snapping towards the direction of finnick’s appearance greeting you. “hey,” you squeaked out, before clearing your throat and going quiet. kicking off his boots, finnick’s brows knitted together in question. “hey, honey…,” he took in your nervous and rigged state, letting out a worried, “you okay?” either be honest with him or stay quiet, you thought, your eyes leaving his to examine that dangerous novel. he called your name, approaching you slowly, thoughts running between one assumption to the next. “uhm,” you started, before reaching out for the book, turning a few pages back, “can you—uh, please read this.” and finnick nodded, taking the book from you.
a few minutes had passed, only hearing the sounds of pages turning and your own labored breathing. “okay,” finnick said, setting the book down gently and turning to you. he crouched down when you refused to look up at him, so he was at a level to properly see you. “are you okay? did that make you uncomfortable? i can return it—,” you cut him off before he could continue, looking down at him and saying, “i want to do that.” finnick couldn’t help the small curl of his lips, face visibly softening from his own previous anxieties. “with you,” you clarified, hands reaching out and cupping his face. “i’d assume so,” he mumbled before leaning in to kiss you.
he had taken you to the room, reassuring you almost twenty times since you’ve situated yourself, still clothed, on his lap that you could stop anytime. you nodded, shutting him up by kissing him. it went on for a while, kissing him, until you experimented and ground down onto him. the friction was oh so sweet, and you continued at a slow pace. you moaned into his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip. finnick’s hands reached under your shirt, hands gripping onto the soft fat of your hips as he pulled you down—grinding up against you. “more, need more,” you breathed out. it didn’t take long for finnick to undress you, disregarding his own clothes somewhere. it also didn’t take long for you to reposition him against the headboard because, “i want you to be comfortable.” he smiled, giving your forehead a soft kiss as you lined yourself up against him.
when you lowered yourself onto him, tip entering your wet heat, you wondered why you were so nervous. it felt like any other time you and finnick had shared the bed together—until he started getting deeper. until he started reaching places missionary wouldn’t allow. “oh,” you exhale out, finally bottoming out against his base. it was so much all at once, your eyes slipping shut as your forehead fell to his shoulder. “sweetheart,” he groaned out, clenching his teeth when you fluttered around him. “how are you feeling? is this okay?” and you nodded, “just need a minute,” you whispered. after a few moments, you experimentally moved your hips. letting out a small whimper, you repositioned to hold onto his shoulders, head moving up to look him in the eyes. “you feel so good,” he leaned closer to mumble against your lips. his words encouraged you, hips starting to pick up a soft pace of moving up and down.
finnick’s eyes were so full of love, never looking away from you. his hands move up to your waist, grip slightly tightening as he helped you—noticed your thighs starting to tremble. “you’re so good, pretty girl,” he moaned, setting a pace himself to meet yours. “always know how to make me feel good,” and you threw your head back, nails digging little crescents into his shoulders. his mouth found your neck, leaving wet and messy kisses against the smooth skin. “finn,” you sobbed, becoming sloppy with your movements, so close to reaching that high finnick introduced you to. “that’s it, like that,” he encouraged against your neck, feeling his blissed out grin. you clenched around him, one hand coming down to play with your abandoned clit.
“fuck,” finnick murmured, thrusting up into your tight heat as he fell over the edge. you soon followed after, your fingers on your clit being brushed away by finnick to replace them with his own. “good girl, such a good girl for me,” he talked you through it, your thighs shaking as your chest fell up and down against his. when you came, you swear you saw stars, the whole world becoming so small—only you two existed.
that novel was right, riding is a form of art.
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cabotwife · 5 months
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Hi!! Loving all the Johanna fics you’ve been putting out! I was wondering if you could write Johanna mason x fem!reader where the reader gets caught in the jabberjay section of the quarter quell with Katniss and Finnick and hears Johanna’s cries. Afterwards they meet Johanna on the beach after the blood rain and reader is super distressed and thinks what she’s seeing is a trick.
(I know they are already with Johanna at this point but just for the sake of this they meet Johanna, Beetee, and Wires when they come out of the blood rain after the jabberjays.)
Thanks :)
hey! sorry this took so long, i have been struggling with writers block so bad recently 💔
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This Love
Johanna Mason x Fem!Odair!Reader
warnings: very poorly written, rushed, probably ooc Katniss and Johanna, not proofread
word count: 1475
a/n: sorry if it's poorly written and soo late, i had an idea but no clue how to put it into words:(
a/n pt2: i tried posting this last night but i fell asleep, thinking i posted it and didn't realize it wasn't posted until i went to start another request..
--
your breathing is heavy as you trek across the sand of the beach. the sun is beating down on you and you’re covered in scrapes and cuts from the mutt attack.
while your brother and the District 12 tributes are talking to each other some distance behind you, you find yourself lost in your thoughts as you wander along the beach.
suddenly, a scream pierces through the air, causing you to jump and spin around to see if the others had heard it. however, they appear to be oblivious to the sound and continue their discussion.
you take in a shaky breath, but then the scream echoes again, and this time you recognize the voice.
"Johanna?" you gasp, staring wide-eyed into the dense jungle. "JOHANNA?!" you scream as you run towards it, pushing aside hanging leaves and jumping over tree roots.
"Y/N!" you hear Finnick call after you, but you can't bring yourself to care, not when your Johanna needs you.
you run with all your might until you reach a small clearing. the cries for help seem to echo around you, making your head spin. "Johanna?!" you call out, your voice loud, strained, and filled with raw emotions. "where are you?"
the cries for help blend into agonizing screams that send shivers down your spine.
tears begin to well up in your eyes as you frantically spin around, desperately searching for the source of the sound. "Johanna! Johanna, please!" you cry out. "where are you?!"
suddenly, a black bird swoops down near your head, calling out, "help! y/n!" your head jerks towards it, eyes widening as you notice the swarm of birds circling above you.
"no," you whisper, watching in horror as the bird continues to dive all around you.
in a panic, you turn on your heel and sprint back in the direction you came from. through the foliage of the trees, you can see the others, including Finnick, waving their arms and shouting, but their words are seemingly drowned out by the chaos.
you race towards your brother, the birds relentlessly chasing and circling you. all you can hear is Finnick and Johanna's desperate cries for help. tears stream down your cheeks as you finally reach your brother, only to be separated by an invisible wall.
"Finnick!" you cry out, pounding your fists against the barrier. "Finnick, help!" your voice trembles with pain, and you struggle to articulate your words as the birds continue their relentless assault.
overwhelmed, you sink to the ground, curling your hands around your head as you hide your face and cover your ears. leaning against the force field, you sob uncontrollably, feeling the weight of the situation.
after what feels like an eternity, the birds eventually fly away, and the force field dissipates.
your group rushes towards you, and Finnick immediately pulls you into a tight embrace, cupping your cheeks as you gaze at him with a distant expression.
“it’s okay, y/n/n, it was just jabberjays.” he murmurs, gently brushing your bangs away from your sweaty forehead.
you stay silent as he fusses over you, with Katniss crouched beside you, her hand soothingly placed on your back, and Peeta standing next to her.
"i'm okay," you eventually mutter, pushing away from the hands on you and standing up.
Finnick frowns at you, but before he can say anything, Katniss speaks up, "we should go back to the beach, where it's safe," she says softly, speaking cautiously, as if you were a child.
you say nothing as you make your way back to the sand of the beach, feeling relieved to be out of the jungle once again.
you settle yourself on the sand near the water's edge, with Katniss sitting beside you and Peeta staying close to her side. Finnick stands behind all of you, taking in his surroundings.
suddenly, you hear your brother suck in a sharp breath, "Johanna!" he shouts before sprinting down the beach. you flinch at the sound of the name, your head snapping up as you watch your brother run.
"Finnick!" you hear a voice calls back, a voice whose screams have been forcefully etched into your mind for the past hour.
Katniss turns to look at you as she stands, extending her hand towards you, "you coming?" she asks, her voice low and comforting.
you eventually nod, gripping her hand and allowing her to help you up.
the three of you follow behind Finnick, making your way towards the other three. as you look at Johanna, you notice how she is covered in blood, and suddenly nothing else matters. your thoughts consume you once again, 'Johanna needed you and you couldn't help her. she's hurt and it's all your fault.' your mind races as you continue to stare at the blood soaked brunette.
Katniss notices your distant look, and she takes your hand in hers, dipping her head and turning to meet your gaze as you still fixate on the other girl.
Johanna looks over Finnick's shoulder, locking eyes with you. her brows furrow in confusion at the look on your face. "y/n?" she calls out, her voice filled with concern, while she starts making her way toward you. your eyes widen in response to hearing your name escape her lips, and you find yourself staring back at her like a deer in headlights.
Finnick places his hand on her shoulder, causing her head to snap towards him. "what's going on with her?" she inquires, pulling away from the bronze-haired boy.
"there was an incident," he explains, "with jabberjays. she, uh.. she got lured into the jungle by jabberjays that were mimicking you."
"me?" Johanna breathes, glancing over at you. her expression changes as she watches Katniss squeeze your hand, speaking to you gently.
"yeah, she hasn't said much since we got her out.. she was in there for a while," Finnick mumbles. "you should talk to her, let her know that you're okay and stuff."
"looks like she has Katniss for that," Johanna grumbles, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms.
Finnick raises an eyebrow at the brunette. “go talk to her, i’ll take Katniss and the others down the beach further.”
Johanna lets out a deep sigh, nodding in agreement. Finnick pats her on the shoulder before motioning for Katniss and Peeta to join them. Peeta rushes over to your brother like an eager puppy being called by his master. meanwhile, Katniss slowly makes her way over, providing you with a few more words of reassurance before finally joining the group.
"hey," Johanna says as she approaches you. you continue to stare at her in silence, which seems to make her slightly uncomfortable. "hey," she gently cups your jaw, redirecting your attention from her bloodied shoulders to her eyes. "talk to me," she mumbles as she holds eye contact with you.
"i'm sorry i couldn't help you," you finally manage to say after a period of silence. tears well up in your eyes again as your lower lip quivers. "i'm sorry," you repeat.
Johanna's eyebrows furrow with confusion. "hey, what? don't be sorry. why’re you apologizing?"
"i couldn't help you," you mumble. "i- i couldn't find you. it was so loud. i'm sorry." tears stream down your cheeks as you speak, your voice coming out raspy but soft.
"y/n, listen to me, you did absolutely nothing wrong," she assures you, her voice filled with sincerity. "what you heard wasn't me, it was just a trick. it wasn't me." her other hand gently comes up to cup your other cheek, holding your face tenderly as she gazes into your eyes.
you swallow hard, holding unwavering eye contact with her. "i-" your words are abruptly cut off as Johanna ducks down and presses her soft lips against yours.
"i’m safe," she whispers, her lips barely grazing against yours. "i’m safe." she reaffirms her words with another kiss, deepening the connection between the both of you.
you instinctively wrap your arms around her neck, your fingers intertwining in her hair as you return the kiss.
you reluctantly break the kiss upon hearing your brother's wolf whistle. Johanna rolls her eyes playfully at him, turning in your embrace to give him an exaggerated middle finger. "fuck you, fish boy!" she exclaims, a grin on her face.
your brother dramatically gasps, his hand clutching his chest in mock offense. "wow! you call me fish boy after sucking face with my sister?"
your cheeks flush with color at his choice of words, but Johanna simply scoffs at him before turning her attention back to you, that same teasing grin still present on her face. she firmly grasps your waist before pulling you into another kiss, more passionate than the last. your fingers gently thread through her hair as you savor the moment.
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ilguna · 5 months
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☼ NFWMB (Finnick Odair) ☼
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summary; nothing can tear the two of you down. they can try, but you're always one step ahead.
warnings; swearing, death, weapon usage, ehh gore, blood mention.
wc; 5.5k
notes; Piano Sessions: songfic, NFWMB by Hozier. not really noticeable, though.
“Here she comes.” You murmur to Finnick, he tilts his head back to get a look.
Katniss is coming down from the tree she scaled a few minutes before. She wanted to assess the situation around the Cornucopia, see how many victors have died so far. By the grim look on her face alone, it tells you all about what won’t be said aloud.
Well, not by you, anyway. Finnick doesn’t care about being sensitive. “What’s going on down there, Katniss?” He asks once she’s made contact with the ground. He’s holding his trident out, casually defensive, as if he’s silently telling her that he’ll fight if he has to. “Have they all joined hands? Taken a vow of nonviolence? Tossed the weapons in the sea in defiance of the Capitol?”
His voice is teasing, because he knows exactly the thought process that she must’ve gone through while she was up there, alone. She likely went up the tree, expecting to find some blood in the water, but not much. After all, twenty-four of you had thrown everything you had at the Capitol to convince them not to send you into the arena, and held hands to show unity among the districts, even if it was a second… She must’ve had herself convinced that there wouldn’t be carnage.
With no pressure to appear complaint with an alliance she had no say in, she could work out her real feelings. Weigh the pros and cons of staying together. It’s led her to think that if you would kill the victors you’ve known and worked with for years, what would keep you from killing her and Peeta, too? How could she reasonably agree to stay?
She can’t. 
“No.” Katniss says, responding to Finnick’s pointless question.
“No,” He repeats. “Because whatever happened in the past is in the past. And no one in this arena was a victor by chance.” He pauses, eyeing Peeta. “Except maybe Peeta.”
He’s standing off to the side, looking between Katniss and Finnick, trying to decide whether or not they’re getting hostile—if he should intervene. This is exactly what Finnick means, Peeta’s too good to be in here. It’s his kindness that almost got him out the first time.
While the rest of you would selfishly kill to save your own lives if it meant survival, he would risk his life to save everyone. He’s got compassion, a quality that the rest of you lack the moment you step into the Games. The only reason why he got crowned was because Katniss refused to let him die, the rest of you fought and didn’t let anything get in your way, mercilessly.
The silence between the two of them is growing heavy with every passing second. It’s as if they’re playing chess, without making any of the physical moves. They’re going back and forth on deciding who will be the one that could come out a fight alive. Who’s the stronger tribute, what move they should make, if they should be the one to make it first.
You know better than to think that Finnick would make the first move. He knows you can’t afford to lose Katniss’ trust entirely. She’s the key to getting out of this arena alive. She’s the one that holds the rebellion in her hands, whether or not she realizes that. Finnick will only move if she does, and it’ll be in self-defense.
You don’t give her the chance, stepping between them, spinning the spear in your hand until you stab it headfirst into the ground. This is to show her that you’re not looking for a fight. She can hold the power in this situation if she wants to, but you won’t let her attack Finnick. She’ll have to get through you, first.
Katniss’ eyes narrow, unhappy that you’re blocking her real target. She won’t be able to kill you, and you know this. Katniss actually likes you, she even suggested having you as her ally to Haymitch, but changed her mind when she found out that you and Finnick come as a package deal.
You give her a little smile, tilting your head. “Did you see how many are dead?”
“Hard to say.” She tells you, still tense. Her fingers flex around the bow, suddenly deciding to lean on her hip, as if she’s trying to see Finnick around you.
Your chin drops, smile fleeting, eyes boring into hers.
The expression is enough for her to take a step back, catching the message. “At least six, I think. And they’re still fighting.”
With upturned lips, you finally move out of the way, allowing her to see Finnick again.
“Let’s keep moving. We need water.” Peeta says. 
His eyes are bouncing between you and Finnick, as if he doesn’t know which one of you to talk to. You pull your spear out of the dirt, holding it in one hand as you cross one arm over your chest and one under.
“Better find some soon,” Finnick says. “We need to be undercover when the others come hunting us tonight.”
Katniss presses her lips together, nodding slowly. 
“We’ll have Peeta lead the way, then.” You motion.
Peeta doesn’t argue, fixing the machete in his hand before beginning to cut away at the vegetation the same way he had been before taking the break. Finnick tries to push you up next, but you place your hand on his back, forcing him forward. The previous formation had worked before he had a standoff with Katniss. You need to be at the end, now. For everyone’s sake.
The slope is a nightmare to climb, but at least you’re not running. It’s easier to move at a slower pace, knowing that the Careers are preoccupied with the Cornucopia. You won’t be worrying about them until tonight, when the biggest fight is over, and they begin to search for smaller ones.
It must be a mile before it looks like the end of the tree line, as you reach the crest of the hill. Katniss speaks behind you through heavy breaths. “Maybe we’ll have better luck on the other side. Find a spring or something.”
You hope she’s right, because you’re not going to last very long in this heat if she isn’t. It’ll be a waste of time and energy if you go down into this valley and it’s just more trees. By then, you’ll probably be too delirious to keep searching. It’ll be on the mentors and sponsors to keep you alive.
“Peeta, don’t—!” Katniss suddenly cries out, taking a step around you. 
A sharp zapping sound fills the air, a blast of air, and then Peeta’s being flung back, straight into you and Finnick. You hit the ground, arms over your head to keep from cracking it on a rock. There’s a dull ache in your ribcage afterwards, but it’s so menial that you forget about it when you hear Katniss calling for Peeta.
You sit up, finding Finnick already looking at you. He touches the side of your face, rubbing away a clump of dirt. “Are you—?”
“Peeta!” Katniss screams. She’s on her knees above him, shaking his body so hard that he’s rocking. She slaps his cheeks, trying to wake him. “Peeta!”
Finnick’s hand falls from your face, mouth open as he crawls a few feet over to Katniss, you move to follow. He pushes her out of the way, needing to be where she’s sitting, “Let me.”
He touches the points at Peeta’s neck, and you catch on to his plan immediately. He runs his fingers over the bones in his ribs and his spine, being thorough. When he stops, he pinches Peeta’s nose shut.
“No!” Katniss yells, hurling herself at Finnick. 
You jump, arms securing around her upper body, tackling her to the ground. She’s stronger than she looks, though, because she manages to get out of your grip, and flips her body on top of yours. With both of your hands pinned next to your head due to her knees, she pulls an arrow, pressing it against the bow, and draws back the string, aiming for Finnick.
“Wait!” You squirm beneath her. “Don’t!”
She holds the position, watching your boyfriend. You arch your back, turning your head to the side to try and see where Finnick’s at in the process. You can hardly see him out of the corner of your left eye, due to him being directly behind you.
He’s breathing air into Peeta’s lungs, making his chest rise and fall. Finnick then reaches to unzip the top of the jumpsuit to get access to his skin. And like all the times he’s done it before, he begins to pump the area over Peeta’s heart with the heels of his hands.
When you look back at Katniss, you can see that the intense crease between her eyebrows has relaxed. She watches, captured by Finnick’s actions. When she glances down, she realizes that she’s still on top of you, so she moves off, the arrow sinking to the ground.
You get to your feet, wanting to be out of the dirt and grass. Finnick is so well rehearsed that while you would feel the need to ask anyone else if they’d like to trade off, you don’t bother with him. He goes on like this for several minutes, determination not once wavering.
When Peeta lets out a small cough, Finnick backs off. Katniss flings herself at him, brushing his hair off of his forehead. “Peeta?”
His eyes flutter open, landing on Katniss. “Careful.” His voice is weak. “There’s a force field up ahead.”
The laugh that comes from Katniss is choked, because of the tears coming down her face is a giant wave. Finnick gets to his feet, coming to you to brush his fingers through your hair, combing out dirt and leaves.
“She didn’t hurt you, did she?” He murmurs quietly. “I couldn’t tell.”
“I’m fine.” You assure him. “You’re a quick thinker.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Anything to save the alliance, right?”
He wanders away to recollect the weapons, your eyes linger on Katniss and Peeta.
“Must be a lot stronger than the one on the Training Center roof. I’m all right, though. Just a little shaken.” He tells her.
“You were dead! Your heart stopped!” She bursts, and then slaps her hand over her mouth.
“Well, it seems to be working now. It’s all right, Katniss.” He touches her arm. She nods her head, but doesn’t move her hand. “Katniss?” 
“It’s okay. It’s just her hormones.” Finnick says, dropping the trident, spear and machete into a lazy pile together. He’s looking down at them. “From the baby.”
“No. It’s not—” She’s cut off by her own sobs, glaring through the tears at Finnick. 
You stare, unsure of what’s happening. When you look at Finnick, you find him just as puzzled, fae twisted. He looks between the teenagers on the ground, before giving a glance your way. You raise your eyebrows, he shakes his head slightly.
“How are you?” He asks Peeta. “Do you think you can move on?”
“No, he has to rest.” Katniss insists, pressing the back of her arm to her nose to keep it from running. She wipes the tears from her face, trying to seem presentable again. She then reaches toward Peeta’s neck, picking up the gold disk attached to the necklace. “Is this your token?”
“Yes. Do you mind that I used your mockingjay? I wanted us to match.” He says.
“No, of course I don’t mind.” She smiles. 
“So you want to make camp here, then?” You ask, trying to get them back on track. 
“I don’t think that’s an option.” Peeta says. “Staying here. With no water. No protection. I feel all right, really. If we could just go slowly.”
“Slowly would be better than not at all.” Finnick says, reaching to help Peeta to his feet. 
You collect the trident and the spear, while Katniss grabs the machete for Peeta. She hands it to Peeta, checking over her own weapons. Once everyone has gathered themselves, she starts forward. “I’ll take the lead.”
“Run!” Katniss’s shrill voice cuts through the quiet night air. “Run!”
A hand secures around your forearm, pulling you upright. You squint through tired eyes to find the enemy, reaching to grab your spear. Finnick’s on his feet, trident in one hand, your arm in the other. 
The only thing you’re met with is the wall of white fog, descending upon you. You try to get to your feet, realizing that you have to run. Finnick doesn’t have the patience, leaning over you to simply scoop you into his arms. You bounce, wrapping an arm around the back of his shoulders.
“Finnick.” You say, but he doesn’t look at you, attention alternating between the path ahead and the fog that’s closing in on you from the sides. 
He holds up the trident wordlessly, you take it from his hand. This allows him to get a better hold on your body. You watch his face for a few minutes, and then you turn your attention to the two behind you. 
Katniss and Peeta are struggling to keep up with the pace that Finnick is setting—which is impressive, considering you’re an extra weight in his arms. Peeta is moving slower than he was this afternoon, meaning that the force field did more damage than any of you realize.
Katniss is holding his hand, moving in front of him, picking out where they run through. They’re managing to stay in front of the fog, but not by much. The fog is lapping at their heels, and even through the darkness, you can see their reactions to it.
“They’re struggling.” You tell him.
He turns enough to get a brief look at them. “You can do it, follow my path!”
It’s not enough. Finnick only takes a couple more steps when you watch as Peeta gets his prosthetic leg caught in a patch of weeds. He can’t catch himself, and it’s too late for Katniss, too. He sprawls across the grass, with Katniss struggling to help him.
“Finn,” You squirm in his arms, “We have to get them. They’re going to die.”
He stops running now, panting. He lets your legs down first, making sure that you’re on a solid part of the ground before he leaves you, trekking back up to the tributes from Twelve. You watch as Katniss jerks Peeta forward, causing him to stumble. Finnick gets there, pulling Peeta’s arm over his shoulders. Katniss wedges her shoulder under the other, and they begin to work together.
“Do you want me to help?” You call.
“No, (Y/n)!” Finnick shouts. “Find us a path.”
You give a hard nod, turning and going down the slope, trying to pick out an area that the three of them will be able to take together. However, they’re only able to make it so far before Finnick stops. You watch as him and Katniss talk for a moment, before he points at you.
She stares at him for a long moment, like she’s confused. As soon as you take a step to go back and find out what the issue is, Finnick pulls Peeta onto him. Katniss is running at you, leaving him behind. When she gets close, she grabs a hold of your arm, pulling you with her.
You resist, watching Finnick.
“Go, (Y/n)!” He barks at you.
It doesn’t feel right, letting him take up the rear, but Katniss is pulling so aggressively that once you stumble forward one step, it’s easy to keep dragging you. And it isn’t until Finnick passes you, taking the lead, do you let her pull you along.
Together, the three of you run between bushes and ferns, dodging trees, narrowly avoiding roots and weeds, calling out warnings. Finnick is taking you down a diagonal path, keeping you away from where the fog is walling you in, while also steering you to the Cornucopia, where the water is.
Still, the fog somehow gains distance, moving faster, tendrils reaching for you desperately. It finally touches you, a searing pain blistering across your skin. The jumpsuit melts away from the acid, doing nothing to protect you from the element. 
Katniss begins to struggle, her arms twitching at her sides, having a mind of their own. Her leg has become one useless block, refusing to move with her anymore. She’s not the only one, you can see that Finnick and Peeta can’t help their movements, either. It’s a reaction to the fog, it’s attacking your nerves.
You follow Finnick until he collapses on the ground, Peeta on top of him. Katniss isn’t too far behind, she doesn’t stop, despite seeing them. She trips over their bodies, hand letting you go as she falls onto the heap. You topple forward, but catch yourself on her lower back.
“Get up.” You tell her, head swiveling to look at the fog, still approaching you. “Get up, now!” 
You pull Katniss off of Peeta, trying to prop her on her feet, but she sways, not being able to hold her bodyweight. She lands nearby, bow falling from her hand. Peeta manages to roll off Finnick, giving you a clear view of your boyfriend, and his half-conscious state.
You ditch the weapons, grabbing onto his wrists, trying to drag him away from the fog. If there’s anyone that’ll survive this, it’s going to be you two. You’ll deal with the repercussions afterward, you won’t let him die.
You get him a few feet, before you can hear Katniss croaking. Her voice acts as a reminder that you’re supposed to save her, she’s the important one in this situation.
“It’s stopped.” She says, which is what she must’ve been trying to tell you.
You look up from her body to where the fog was advancing. She’s right, it appears to be thicker, forced to condense, but the tendrils are gone. It’s like it’s pressed up against a glass wall, keeping it from moving forward.
You let out a breath of relief, lowering Finnick momentarily as you catch your breath. He’s staring up at you, green eyes capturing yours, moonlight glinting off his bronze hair. His lips move, but there’s no sound behind it.
“Mon-hees.” Peeta murmurs.
You look over to see that he’s gesturing up, at a pair of orange monkeys, sitting together on a branch above them. You drop one of Finnick’s wrists, your hand reaching for the knife on your purple belt. Peeta then rolls over to his knees, beginning to climb down the slope, Katniss behind him. The monkeys don’t jump at them, letting them leave.
You ease, grabbing Finnick’s wrist again, as you go back to dragging him out of the jungle. It’s fairly obvious that he’s in worse condition than the other two, because of his drooping face and uncooperative limbs. He took on most of the fog for Peeta, but that doesn’t mean that Peeta’s completely clean.
You get to the beach, pulling Finnick to the shore, before lowering him to the ground. Katniss crawls all the way to the water, letting it hit her face before she jerks back, letting out a noise. She doesn’t let this deter her, placing her hand on the wet sand, water washing over it. She winces, but you watch as the blue water turns a milky white.
It’s coming out of her skin.
“Okay, Finnick.” You murmur, walking around him to grab his feet. He groans as a response. You turn his body around, carefully pulling him into the water. “Work with me, baby.”
You pull his shoes off first, tossing them toward the treeline. When you begin to work the jumpsuit off his body, he tries his best to move the right way. You have to be careful, with the amount of white patches on his tanned skin. The last thing you want is to get any poison on your skin.
Once you’ve got the wetsuit off, it’s easy to work from there. You start with his feet, carefully scooping handfuls of water on, watching as the poison leaves his skin in wisps, disappearing into the air. You pull him in the water, inch by inch, working all the way up to his abdomen, before Katniss and Peeta are well enough to help you.
“Here, you take his head.” Peeta tells you. “We’ll get his body.”
“Be gentle.” You tell him. “His skin is sensitive from the…” You trail off, wanting to say Capitol. From the years of ongoing abuse he’s enduring from them. You sigh. “The um—the Games.”
Peeta nods, because there’s no need to question you. Katniss observes the way you treat Finnick, mimicking that. Together, you manage to get all the way up to his neck, not wanting to dunk his face underneath the water.
“Finnick, you’ve got to do this part on your own.” You tell him.
“That’s the worst part, but you’ll feel much better after, if you can bear it.” Peeta says.
Finnick nods, scooting to sit up. He takes your hand, squeezing tightly, as he purges his eyes, nose and mouth in the saltwater. When Katniss sees that you’ve got this under control, she gets to her feet.
“I’m going to try to tap a tree.” Her fingers pat the spile on her belt.
“Let me make the hole first.” Peeta says. “You stay with them. You’re the healer.”
Katniss shakes her head at him, not saying anything. He heads for the trees, knife in hand, looking for a good one. He finds it about ten yards from the beach. Katniss keeps a close eye on him, considering he’s hardly visible there.
Finnick eventually lets go of you, wanting to go deeper in the water. You let him, because there’s still a spot on your shoulder that you need to rinse from the poison. You dive into the water, feeling the hot pain blossom out from the spot the fog initially touched you.
When you surface, you scrub at the skin, watching the water turn white. With no other place on your body poisoned, you go to join Katniss back on the beach. She seems to have collected her mockingjay pin, now pinned to her undershirt. You stand near her, watching as she combs her hair from the braid. It’s fairly damaged from the poison, as it noticeably thins. If she cares, she hides it well, because she braids what’s left and throws it over her shoulder.
She then starts toward the water, trying to soak it in to get rid of the stiffness in her arms and legs. You opt for joining Peeta in the jungle, but only to grab the trident and spear, before leaving him in there. 
Katniss alternates between floating on her stomach and back, getting as much exposure as possible. While Finnick makes laps around the wedge, dives, surfaces, sprays water out of his mouth at you. He even sinks to the seafloor, and right when Katniss opens her mouth, his head pops out of the water.
“Don’t do that.” She snaps.
You laugh a little.
“What? Come up or stay under?” He asks.
“Either. Neither. Whatever. Just soak in the water and behave.” She says, wading out of the water. “Or if you feel this good, let’s go help Peeta.”
Finnick pushes his hair out of his eyes, shaking his head behind her back. You hand him his trident, and he takes the opportunity to steal a kiss from you during the exchange. 
He pulls away, humming. “Salty.”
“Gross.” You tell him. “Are you feeling better?”
“I’m a new person.” 
“That’s good.”
Katniss takes a few steps into the jungle, when she suddenly stops in the middle, forcing you to stop, too. She looks up slowly, you follow her gaze. In the branches hanging above Peeta, are a couple dozen of monkeys, weighing down the limbs. These are the same orange color as the pair that you’d seen thirty minutes ago.
The ones that you thought were going to attack them.
Katniss casually reaches for two arrows, arming her bow with them. You fix the spear in your hand, sharing a look with Finnick. “Peeta,” Katniss’s voice is even, trying to stay calm. “I need your help with something.”
“Okay, just a minute. I think I’ve just about got it.” He says, still drilling into the tree. “Yes, there. Have you got the spile?”
“I do. But we’ve found something you’d better take a look at. Only move toward us quietly, so you don’t startle it.”
It’s smart of her to keep the monkeys from him, considering they’re not reacting to your presence. They’ve all got their eyes on Peeta, he’ll be the trigger if he moves too fast.
Peeta turns to you, a little crease between his eyebrows. “Okay.” He says.
He begins to move in your direction, not being quiet at all. This makes you tense, but the monkeys still aren’t moving, holding where they are in the trees. He’s five yards from where you’re standing on the beach, when he gets a clue. His eyes cast up, and he must make eye contact, because the monkeys explode.
They move faster than you’re able to comprehend, as the shrieking begins. They come down the trees by the vines, swinging at him. They leap from tree to tree to get a better advantage on him. Fangs bared, hackles raised, claws shooting out. 
“Mutts!” Katniss spits.
The three of you jerk to join Peeta in the jungle to protect him from the sheer amount of them. Katniss begins to fire arrows rapidly, taking down monkeys left and right, targeting vital points. You and Finnick work back and forth, trying to keep up with her pace, but she’s got a long-ranged weapon. 
Finnick will spear several of them like fish before flinging them off to the side. You take jabs when the occasional one gets too close, Peeta slashing with his knife. One of the monkeys latch onto Katniss’s back, when you stab through the back of its head.
The air is hard to breathe, between the scent of blood, the warm must of the monkeys, and the trampled plants. You all move to have your backs to one another, a few yards between each of you to make this fight easier. 
A monkey comes soaring out of the trees, straight at you, right as you aim to kill a different one. You can feel your whole body clam up, preparing for the impact.
“Don’t move!” Finnick shouts behind you. You can feel the wind of the trident whizzing between you and Peeta, slamming directly into the chest of the monkey, and the two behind it.
“Worry about yourself!” You tell Finnick.
“Right!” He laughs, you pull the knife out of your belt to hand to him. He grabs it, slicing for a few seconds, before he shouts. “Switch!”
You twist around to take the opposite side, Finnick moves quickly, taking where you’d been standing moments before. There’s more monkeys on this side, forcing you to catch up. When you steal a glance over your shoulder, you see that Finnick has retrieved his trident, getting back on track.
Katniss shoots an arrow, reaching back to grab another. She then switches to her knife, swinging. “Peeta! Your arrows!”
Peeta drops what he’s doing to slide it off, Katniss turning to grab it. This forces you to cover not one, not two, but three areas. Finnick grunts behind you, trying to do the same, but the two of you aren’t enough. A monkey lunges out of a tree, aiming for Peeta. Katniss throws her knife, missing.
Before you can help, Katniss begins to run at Peeta. You reach out to grab the back of her undershirt, she slips from your fingers. She won’t make it in time.
The tip of your spear pierces through the chest of another mutt, when a high-pitched scream fills the air. You look, prepared to see Katniss on the ground, but instead find the female tribute from District Six running at the mutt aimed for Peeta. She throws her skinny arms around it, as it sinks its teeth into her body.
Peeta drops the sheath, which Katniss stoops to grab. He repeatedly stabs his knife into the monkeys back until it releases its jaw, kicking it away, bracing for more. The four of you are panting loudly, for a second, that’s all you’re able to hear. “Come on, then! Come on!” Peeta shouts angrily.
The monkeys aren’t moving forward, though. In fact, they withdraw, fading into the jungle, called back by the Gamemakers.
“Get her.” Katniss tells Peeta, looking at the morphling. “We’ll cover you.”
Peeta carefully pulls the morphling into his arms, carrying her a few yards to the beach. You follow behind him, spear tight in your hand. Finnick and Katniss come out once your feet hit the sand, ensuring that the monkeys don’t come out behind you.
Peeta brings her to the water, laying her in the wet sand. Katniss cuts away at the wetsuit covering her chest, revealing the four puncture wounds, blood slowly pooling in them, trickling down her skin. It doesn’t look that terrible from the outside, which means the real damage has been done inside.
She’s gasping for air, struggling to breathe. Katniss kneels next to her, taking one of the twitching hands. 
“I’ll watch the trees.” Finnick says, walking away. 
When Katniss looks up at you for help, you turn to leave with Finnick, not necessarily wanting to watch the scene, either. He looks over, making sure that you’re going with him. 
“What the hell is going on?” You whisper once you step into the trees.
“No idea.” He shakes his head. “The fog and the monkeys back to back?”
“In the middle of the night, too.” Your face twists. “A weird choice for the Capitol, wouldn’t they want the attacks to be during the day? What time is it, even?”
“It has to be really early.” 
You lean up against a tree with the spear, watching the branches while Finnick picks bloody arrows out of the grass. There are a few mutt bodies around, but when Finnick gets close, the vines shift, pulling them away to keep you from inspecting.
When the cannon goes off, you move with Finnick to get back on the beach. A hovercraft has appeared over the water, claw dropping to collect the morphling out of the water. It secures around her, the claw returning to the craft, before disappearing.
He drops the arrows next to Katniss in the sand. “Thought you might want these.”
“Thanks.” She says, gathering them into her arms. She takes them to the water to clean, and when she’s done, she goes to the jungle, pulling moss off the rocks to dry them. “Where did they go?”
“We don’t know exactly. The vines shifted and they were gone.” Finnick says, sitting in the sand near you. 
He reaches up to scratch his face, where the fog has touched him. It’s seemed that the little wounds have scabbed over already. Finnick’s picking at them, the same way that Peeta is. 
Katniss notices this. “Don’t scratch. You’ll only bring infection.”
Peeta sighs, hand dropping. “Think it’s safe to try for the water again?”
Katniss nods, you stay where you are in the sand, letting the other three go in there to get water. Finnick comes out with a shell of warm water, watching you drink it, before going back to grab more. When they’ve satisfied their thirst, they come back out.
“Why don’t you three get some rest? I’ll watch for a while.” Katniss says.
“Are you sure?” Finnick asks, she nods.
Finnick lays down in the sand, staring up at you expectantly. You give him a smile, moving his hair. “I’m not tired, baby.”
He doesn’t argue, simply turning over in the sand, putting his back to you. Peeta does something similar, but opts for laying on his back instead, settling in. You and Katniss sit in silence for a while, watching the waves come to shore, before retreating. Like a game of cat and mouse.
It isn’t until the boys have fallen asleep, when Katniss speaks. “Can I ask you a question?” You look over at her with raised eyebrows. “How are you and Finnick so in sync?”
You breathe a laugh. “Years of practice—trial and error.”
“But you’ve never been in the Games together.” She says, it’s not a question. “How do you two know when to help?”
“Intuition.” You shrug. “Willpower.”
She shakes her head, looking away.
“It’s not something you figure out overnight.” You murmur. “I’ve been dating Finnick for years, Katniss. I know what he’s going to say before he even thinks it. It's just what happens. Besides, you’ve got some of that between you two, too.”
“It’s not the same.” She says.
“Finnick would tear the world apart if it meant keeping me safe, forever. You’re telling me that you wouldn’t do the same?” You ask, she’s quiet. “That’s what you’re doing now, isn’t it?”
She meets your eyes. “Yeah.”
“We’re not as different as you think.”
--
this was part of my 3k celebration!
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stxr-slut · 1 month
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Based on a comment on my post asking for finnick asks 🫶
Warnings: smut, piv, unprotected sex (be safe guys!!), cumming on reader?? (Dk if that's a warning, lol). Tell my if I missed any!!
"Finnick.." you ask shyly, stepping through the door of his bedroom. Finnick and you had always been close. You were his best friend..
He looked up from the piece of rope he had been tying and untying knots into, something he did when he was nervous, or sometimes just if he's bored.
"Can I ask something? Promise you won't laugh.." You mumble. your hands were tucked behind your back, hiding something from view.
"Go on..." he replies, looking at you, a little confused, but a smile on his face anyway. It seemed there always was a sweet grin on his face around you.
"Can I.. tie a bow on y're arm?" You ask, looking across the room at him all doe eyes and pleading. Fuck how could he say no to you?
"Sure, Angel. C'mere." I smiled and pats his lap. Quickly, you climb onto his lap, straddling his thighs as you tie a pink ribbon around his arm.
You'd always liked his arms.. they were all muscley, and he'd always let you cling onto them in public spaces. Letting you smush your face against his upper arm.
"Perfect!" You smile happily, looking down at your work. Finnick was a little embarrassed, but you were happy, so he was happy. There was a pretty pink bow tied around his arm.
About 3 minutes later, the bow came undone, much to your dismay. He had you on his lap still, this time bouncing up and down on his thick cock. Except you were never one to do much physical work, so he had to move you up and down himself.
This resulted in the pretty bow you'd tied coming ondone, as the muscles in his arms were tensing to move you up and down. You pouted when you saw this, looking down at him all upset.
"What is it? W'as wrong?" He asked, not stopping but slowing you down to a slow grind. You felt so full :( his thick length slowly massaging your walls as you tried to speak.
"Fi-inn the b-ow..!" You choke out, words all broken up cause he was just so good !! You couldn't help but whine when he rolled his eyes at you, starting back up at his original pace.
"Re-tie it then, love." He smirked up at you. Your brain was so foggy that you barely made out what he said. Once you realised he wasn't gonna stop, you reached for the ribbon with shakey hands.
Your body was moving, bouncing up and down as he thrusted up into you. You tried to focus, you really did !! It was just too much :((
"Finn!" You whine, slumping against him, too tired and fucked out to care about your silly bow any more. Finnick just chuckled and continued doing all the work, relishing in the small gasps and whines slipping from your lips.
"Oh, I know, Angel.. I know." I mumbles, speeding up his pace and sliding a hand between you two to rub your swolen clit.
You let out a shrill cry, so so close to your release. Finnick, being who he was, tipped you over the edge quickly, letting you ride out your orgasm before he pulled out, letting his load fall right on your lower back. Sticky and warm.
You settled down against him, previously quick breaths returning to slow, deep ones. You just felt so comfy, so tired.. so safe. Finnick made you feel that way.
"Cmon, love. Gotta get you cleaned up.." he stated, chuckling at your whines of protest. He just picks you up and carries you off anyways.
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Credits to this commenter for the idea !! Thank you !!
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𓆩[in our next life]𓆪
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𓆩[join the taglist!]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[join the main taglist!]𓆪
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𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Finnick Odair x Fem! District 4 Victor! Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut, slight angst
𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 23K
𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Peeta and Katniss weren’t the first to fall in love after the games. That title went to you and Finnick, your mentor after you were Reaped at the age of fifteen two years after Finnick. After being dragged back into the Games with the Quarter Quell, you both are determined to stop it, no matter what- especially if one of you would gladly sacrifice themselves for the other.
𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - Use of Y/N || i promise I do not write like this in the fic- || reader was also forced into prostitution, but Finnick forced Snow to make them a pair || reader is definitely bi but has no (sexual) relations with women in the story || Finnick’s hand around your throat can be seen as sexual but it’s mainly just a comfort thing at this point || a lot of mixed timelines, sorry want it to play in my favor || mainly based on the movies bc I haven’t read the books in forever || Reader and Finnick are titled the Princess and Prince of the Capitol || you basically replace Annie || inspiration of your story from other characters || weird baby names inspired by the sea (cuz District 4, sea fishing etc) || This is so going to be a series- || smoking, smoking opium || This actually takes place in several different times, first the drawing for the Quarter Quell to the carriage rides where you meet Katniss and Peeta to the interviews to the literal Quarter Quell, being rescued, then skipping to after the rebellion is won (my darling doesn’t die, he didn’t deserve it &lt;3). || Cinna isn't dead and he’s your stylist, and you and Finnick get married twice (once before the Quarter Quell, another after the rebellion) and of course he designs your wedding dress. || Finnick pulls a stunt like Peeta, turns out to be true later on || first marriage is televised a few days before the games, second of course is private || marriage ceremonies inspired by cultures, yes I’m giving District 4 marriage ceremonies and no I’m not basing this off the wedding in the movie, and this is my own little spin on the fic - I didn’t want the wedding to be boring || the party Peeta and Katniss go to in the second movie is your wedding || ngl, with these plans, I’m hoping this is long- || slight rift between you and Katniss at first, but you end up being best friends quickly || you make Katniss question her sexuality bc you top her for a minute- || CPR & mouth to mouth || Classic warning such as cursing, fighting, blood, death, and more to be wary of. || mentions of Finnick’s forced prostitution (brief, my baby has suffered enough) || smut is included in this; mentions of voyeurism and exhibitionism (explained in the story), breeding kink, size kink, oral (♀ & ♂), fingering, spit, slight choking, slight dom-sub dynamics, sex is definitely a coping mechanism, degradation, name calling (slut, whore, cumslut, maybe more?), probably dirty talk if you think about it that way, praise, mentions of a hazy mindset that could be seen as a subspace, definitely a soft dom turned pleasure dom turned rough dom Finnick, and more- just be wary.
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—𓆩[CHAPTERS]𓆪—
𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER I 𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER II 𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER III 𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER IV 𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER V 𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER VI 𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER VII 𓆩♡𓆪 EPILOGUE
ALL CHAPTERS ARE UP!!!
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—𓆩[DRABBLES]𓆪—
𓆩♡𓆪 N/A
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—𓆩[EXTRA FICS]𓆪—
𓆩♡𓆪 N/A
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© asterias-record-shop
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kining-the-evil · 1 year
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Yandere haymitch and finnickn perhaps??🫣🫣🤔🤔
Yandere Headcanons
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Characters- Finnick Odair, Haymitch Abernathy
Warnings- Yandere themes obviously. If you don’t like don’t read
Haymitch
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He would know who you were before the games, quietly watching you from afar with a childish crush
But the Games make his crush become love, and losing his family makes that love become obsession
He just stalks you for a long time
He knows he can’t actually do anything yet, the capital was still watching him to closely, but he could at least get small glimpses of you
As time goes on he would get braver with interactions. Quietly leaving food for you to ‘find’ and threatening people at the Hob if they try to screw you over
He decides eventually that it’s worth the risk to have you with him. He does as much planing as an alcoholic could do and decides his best chance is to kidnap you
He’s a very paranoid yandere. Keeping every window covered, never letting you outside, and constantly checking to see if anyone is around
He gets less strict as time goes on, mainly just because he can’t actually keep up with it
He would be able to break you down because he’s just the only person you ever see. And it just makes it worse when he has to leave every year
By the time Katniss and Peeta are reaped you really are ‘in love’ with him, and are basically taking care of him
He can be very soft with you, but not often. His paranoia just gets in the way a lot, making him think he needs to hold back any affection
Finnick 
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Finnick is very up front about how he feels about you, but because of who he is you don’t really take it seriously
Finnick is definitely obsessed with you, constantly flirting and trying to woo you. But a part of him only does it because he knows you don’t take it seriously.
Snow would inadvertently encourage him in the relationship. The capital likes to see Finnick happy, and it’s clear that you keep him happy
Snow would put you in some form of danger, and that would be just the push Finnick needs. He would save you, and decided you would only be safe with him
He gives you a choice, you can either stay locked up in his home in District 4 or you can comply with him and he’ll take you places. He can’t ‘show you off’ but it would mean you could see the Capital, and he could have you with him all the time
He can switch from being the sweetest person ever to the most terrifying person. One moment he’s holding you, kissing your face, and whispering how much he loves you, and the next he’s towering over you, screaming.
He doesn’t necessarily break you, but you’re so scared of him that you would basically just do what he wants.
He wouldn’t actually hurt you but he wants you to think he would. It makes you more complicit, which makes him feel like it’s a real relationship. You let him cuddle you, kiss you, and love you with no fighting back
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inkluvs · 4 months
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thinking about finnick and how he’s obviously a summer person but he can’t help but love the way you seem to glow during the winter <3 sure the waters too cold but it’s worth it when you look so cute bundled up in the extra coat finnick insisted you wear with snow in your eyelashes and hair <3 he’ll tolerate the fact that he can’t swim during winter because you have never felt better than you have in the cold <3
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sulietsexual · 3 months
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Johanna glances over at Finnick, to be sure, then turns to me. “How'd you lose Mags?” “In the fog. Finnick had Peeta. I had Mags for a while. Then I couldn't lift her. Finnick said he couldn't take them both. She kissed him and walked right into the poison,” I say. “She was Finnick's mentor, you know,” Johanna says accusingly.
Finnick & Johanna [Requested by @iammyownsaviour]
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macaronisour · 1 year
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how mockingjay should have ended (i’m still not okay)
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queuestarter · 4 months
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continuity
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(finnick odair x reader)
cw: mentions/the act of vomiting
link to the request → finnick helping reader with morning sickness
open to finnick requests !!
You lay completely flat on the couch, eyes closed with a towel draped over them just to ensure that not a single ounce of light passes through. In your mouth is a raw piece of ginger- a trick to help with the nausea.
You’ve been incredibly sick for your entire pregnancy so far. You expected the headaches, nausea, and mood swings to end with your first trimester, but here you are, twenty four weeks along, and every symptom remains.
“Hey, babies,” you hear your husband call out to you. You grimace, the sound of his voice making you feel worse.
“Finn, shut up. Please.”
Finnick doesn’t say anything. Instead, you hear him move closer to where you’re laying. He lays a hand on your prominent bump and begins to rub. It feels good for a few seconds before a sudden feeling of repulsion washes over you.
“I love you with everything in me Finnick Odair but the baby doesn’t like that,” you whine, a pout forming. At this point, you’re so bothered by the overstimulating atmosphere around you that you decide to just accept the headache and nausea. You take the towel off of your eyes and sit up.
You see Finnick smiling in front of you, beautiful as ever. You roll your eyes at his happiness and grab his hand, spitting the chunk of chewed up ginger into it. You’re not even surprised when even that doesn’t seem to break his high spirits.
“Tell me what’s wrong, my love,” he requests. You pout, feeling tears already coming in. Today has been unnecessarily hard for no reason and Finnick being as perfect as ever isn’t helping much.
“I feel sick,” you whine pathetically. He cooes at you and cradles your face with the hand that isn’t full of chewed up ginger. 
“Do you want me to get you anything? Some tea?”
You nod slowly. You like a nice cup of tea, especially when you don’t feel good.
“What flavor? Does chamomile sound good?” He asks, backing away from you.
You think- chamomile is usually your go to tea, that would be fine. But the more you think about the tea, the more nauseous it makes you.
“Finn,” you moan, standing up from the couch. “Can you walk me to the bathroom?”
He scrunches his eyebrows together. “What about the tea?”
“Forget the damn tea,” you hiss, hand slapping over your mouth. Without his help, you run down the hallway to the downstairs bathroom, instantly lowering yourself to the toilet to expel the contents of your stomach.
Within seconds Finnick is by your side, holding your hair back with one hand and the other massaging soothing circles in the center of your back. “That’s it, honey. I’m sorry this is happening.”
You flush the toilet, letting out a deep breath. “It’s okay. Our baby just wants to make themselves known.”
“That’s right,” Finnick praises, helping you to your feet. You grab your toothbrush and scrub away at your teeth. Finnick stands behind you, peppering kisses onto your exposed neck at every chance he gets. 
Once you're finished and you rinse out your mouth, you give Finnick a kiss. “I feel better, can you make me the tea now?”
He smiles his perfect smile before saying, “anything for you, my love.”
You settle back into the couch, perfectly content with life.
-
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miley1442111 · 1 month
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navigation :)
hi, i'm miley, i'm 18 and irish :) requests are open!
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send in requests for anyone from criminal minds, outerbanks, the bear, mcu, top gun, or hunger games but these are the main people I write for:
aaron hotchner
spencer reid
emily prentiss
derek morgan
criminal minds masterlist: masterlist :)
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rafe cameron
pope hayward
jj maybank
obx masterlist: masterlist :)
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carmen berzatto
sydney adamu
luca (the bear)
the bear masterlist: masterlist :)
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james buchanan 'bucky' barnes
steve rogers
tony stark
peter parker
mcu masterlist: masterlist :)
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finnick odair
peeta mallark
thg masterlist: masterlist :)
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robert 'bob' floyd
bradley 'rooster' bradshaw
jake 'hangman' seresin
natasha 'phoenix' trace
topgun masterlist: masterlist :)
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fics based on the tortured poets department:
tortured poets department masterlist :)
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thedelicatearcher · 9 days
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finnick odair hcs for reader who loves animals?
finnick odair x reader who loves animals
the first thing to know about finnick is that he never had a pet in his life, not even a puppy when he was a little boy or a fish (since he spent most of his time fishing, he wouldn't have felt comfortable pulling some out of the water while taking care of one at home). finnick never disliked animals, he just wasn't familiar with them.
so, when you came into his life, you turned it upside down. with a house full of loving animals and a mind filled with animal fun facts, you made your way into his sensitive heart and his previously lonely home.
he loves when you tell him everything you know about sea animals. he discovered that turtles are his favorite; so at night, when both of you can't sleep and are just holding each other, staring lovingly and talking nonstop about nothing and everything, you tell him how sea turtles have outlived dinosaurs, how female turtles never forget their home beach, and how they are immune to the sting of most jellyfish.
finnick never knew that cats could be such little devils. he really struggled at first because your mischievous orange cat loved knocking stuff off the table, welcomed him home with scratches, and ran around the house every night until exhaustion got to him, driving a restless finnick nearly to madness. despite their bickering, you know they love each other unconditionally. every time you return from the market, you find them snuggling and napping together; finnick snoring softly while lying down on the couch on his back, and your little guy comfortably situated on finnick's chest, purring his heart out.
when you adopted a guinea pig, finnick insisted on being the one who named him. many names were vetoed, from mags II to robert. “finn, it sounds like he is a working man with a briefcase,” you told him, laughing at his idea. “his close friends could call him bob!!,” he insisted, invested in the idea. in the end, you agreed on naming him triton. “a big name for a big man,” finn said dramatically as he held the little animal in his big hand
bathing your dog was a chaotic experience. persuading your pet wasn't easy, as she knew what treats-leading-to-the-bathroom meant. many attempts later, you resigned and finnick had to carry her into the tub. finnick was assigned the important duty of holding her while you gently wet her with a bucket and applied the shampoo, getting as wet and soapy as your pet. then, without any warning, she started shaking off, splashing water and soap all over you and the bathroom. all soaked and laughing your asses off, your puppy took the opportunity to escape while you were distracted. now, you have soaking clothes, a messy bathroom, and a soapy dog hiding in the kitchen corner.
now a proclaimed animal lover, finnick loves wearing his starfish shirt, owns several colorful crocodile slippers, goes outside with the sole intention of observing the animals passing by, insists on celebrating every one of your pet’s birthdays, and every now and then surprises you with an animal fact you’ve never heard before.
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cabotwife · 5 months
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omgg johanna x reader where r volunteers for annie instead of mags? 🤔
thank you for requesting! i hope you enjoy <3
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Hey, Brother
Johanna Mason x Fem!Reader, Finnick Odair x Fem!Sister!Reader
warnings: poorly written angst, mention of sex trafficking, not proofread
word count: 1258
a/n: hey guys! thank you so much for all the requests, i promise i'm working on them all as quickly as i can.
the room fell into a deafening silence. Finnick stood frozen in place, his eyes wide as he stared at his younger sister. the words had left your mouth before you had a chance to think, a desperate plea to the universe.
“i volunteer as tribute,” you found yourself repeating, the words tasted bitter on your tongue. you locked eyes with your brother, his usually bright eyes were dull with shock. his girlfriend, the woman who had slowly become a sister to you, stood beside to you. her eyes were filled with tears, threatening to spill over any second. you had just volunteered for her.
the tension in the room was palpable, you could feel the weight of everyone's gaze on you. suddenly, your skin felt hot, and the air was heavy with fear and anticipation, the silence was broken only by the soft sobs of Annie.
“y/n-” Finnick began, his voice was choked with emotion but you cut him off with a shake of your head. you didn’t need his protest, this was your decision, your sacrifice. the announcer, a man with a voice too cheerful for the occasion, quickly moved onto announcing the male tribute, effectively ending the discussion.
the atmosphere thick with suspense as the man reaches into the bowl, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. his fingers dance over the folded slips of paper before finally settling on one. he slowly, almost painfully, pulls it out, leisurely unfolding it as if to prolong the tension. his gaze drops to the paper, absorbing the name written there before raising his eyes to meet the audience's expectant gaze. the name echoes through the silent room, "Finnick Odair."
as the name settles in the air, you can feel your heart plummet to your stomach. your eyes, wide with shock and disbelief, dart to the other male victors, silently begging them to volunteer in your brother's place. but none of them do. why would they? you were all promised peace and safety if you managed to survive your respective games. how dare they betray that promise and bring you back into the fray, turning you against these people you’ve known, and grown fond of, for so long?
your frantic thoughts are interrupted by Finnick gently cupping your cheeks and pulling your face towards him. the sincerity in his voice is like a balm to your fraying nerves as he mutters, “you’ll be okay." his eyes, full of determination and promises, bore into yours. "i’ll keep you safe.” he mutters, pressing a soft kiss to your hairline before holding your head under his chin in a hug.
Finnick had always been your protector, sacrificing everything to keep you safe, to keep the people he loved out of harm's way. when he denied his body to the capitol, you had been reaped just the following year. in his eyes, that was his punishment for his disobedience.
pulling away from him, your hand presses firmly against his chest as you meet his gaze. “no, Finn, you need to keep yourself safe. okay? you have- you have Annie, you need to be okay for her.” your voice cracks, tears welling up in your eyes despite your best efforts to hold them back.
before your brother can respond, you are torn from each other's arms, whisked away to your respective rooms as they prepare the train to the capitol.
sitting in silence, you are left alone with your thoughts, which prove to be overwhelming. as much as you want to focus on your brother's safety, your thoughts drift to a certain short-haired brunette girl. your brother’s best friend.
the realization of these thoughts terrifies you, but you know they’re true. Johanna is the only living female victor of District 7, she’s going to be in the arena with you, with Finnick. your mind races with images of the other victors, the potential tributes, most of them your friends, people you’ve practically grown up with.
you're painfully aware that you won't make it out of this arena alive. you don't possess the same fighting instincts as the others. your victory in your games came from hiding, staying just out of sight, letting the others kill each other off. the very thought of having to kill a stranger is unbearable, let alone people you care about. the mere idea of having to harm one of your friends, of losing your brother, of losing Johanna is enough to make your stomach churn.
"are you completely out of your fucking mind?!" you hear the loud, scathing words, each one landing like a punch. the voice is painfully familiar and it inevitably makes you flinch, your body involuntarily shrinking inwards.
Finnick flashes you a knowing smirk, patting your shoulder in a show of mock solidarity. "all yours, champ," he chuckles, his amusement clear as the day. he then saunters off towards a shadowy figure in the distance, a girl whose face you can’t quite make out, probably that District 12 girl he knew.
you take a deep, steadying breath before spinning around. there, standing in front of you, is Johanna Mason in all her intimidating glory. "Johanna," you greet, a gentle smile playing on your lips, a stark contrast to the situation at hand. "you look beautiful." attempting to soften the tension, you place your hand on the side of her bicep.
"do not," she practically snarls, her anger palpable as she slaps your hand away with a quick, sharp movement. "what the hell were you thinking, y/n? volunteering? Why the fuck would you do that?!" her stern tone echoes around you.
"Annie... she couldn't handle coming back here, Jo," you attempt to explain, your words desperate. "you have to understand…" as you speak, you silently curse the feelings you harbor towards the brunette. in this moment, you can't help but feel like a chastised child.
in many ways, you are a child. the games stole your innocence, your childhood, forcing you to navigate through a maze of emotions in the most unhealthy manner.
Johanna's sigh breaks the silence. the frustration is evident in her posture, her face, everything about her. "listen to me, okay?" she pleads, placing her hands on your shoulders with a firm grip. "i need you to stay with me, and trust in what i do, alright? i'll keep you safe." her voice is uncharacteristically soft.
you blink at her, taken aback. "both you and Finnick have said that to me now," you groan, shrugging her hands off of you. "i can take care of myself, Johanna. i know you guys don’t want to believe it, but it’s true. i’m just as much an adult as you are," your words are blunt, full of pent-up frustration.
"hey, no," the brunette argues, her grip tightening on your shoulders once more. "i know you’re an adult, y/n, i just- i'll feel a lot better in the arena knowing you’re safe." you frown, about to retort, but Johanna cuts you off, "promise me."
you sigh, "Johanna-"
"no, promise me. now," she insists, her eyebrows furrowing as she holds eye contact with you, her grip unyielding. "promise me, y/n. please."
your eyes search hers, finding nothing but sincerity. "fine." you grumble.
"say it, tell me you promise you’ll stay close to me."
"what if-"
"no 'what ifs', say it," she narrows her eyes, the intensity of her gaze unrelenting.
"i promise i’ll stay close to you," you mutter, puffing out your cheeks in defeat.
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ilguna · 1 year
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☼ breathtaking pt1 (Finnick Odair) ☼
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summary; you thought that you were going to go into the arena without ever meeting your soulmate. little did you know, he's been next to you the whole time.
warnings; swearing
wc; 3.5k
part two.
The worst part about the announcement of the Quarter Quell was by far the amount of questions you were asked about it afterwards. In the months leading up to the reaping, all you kept being asked was, “How do you feel?”
In the beginning, you would just stare at them for a second, hoping that they’d realize how stupid they are for asking it in the first place. How do they think you feel? While they’re all grown and get to live the rest of their lives without worrying about dying, you’re having your rights taken away from you yet again.
You aren’t supposed to do this again. Everyone was promised that once they win, they are done with the Hunger Games. They were no longer eligible to go inside, the only time you’d come close would be during mentoring. You’d get to live that week in the Capitol over and over and over again, watching different tributes get reaped, and then die in the arena.
As the reaping drew closer, the question died in their throats. The idea of reminding you about your potential fate made them uncomfortable. They never considered the idea of how irritating it was to answer the question every day of the week and then for it to slowly fizzle out.
You could handle the odds of going back into the arena. With only four girls in District Five, there was a twenty-five percent chance that the name pulled out of the bowl would be yours. It bothered the other girls, but you knew you had to let it go if you wanted to be even remotely happy for what could be your last weeks in your home.
Actually, the part that upsets you the most is the fact you’ll never get to see the world in color, because you haven’t met your soulmate yet. You’ll never get to see the sky, or the trees, or the color of the clothes you wear everyday. All the features that make someone who they are is absent in your sight. You’re left with black, white, and grey.
You thought that you would have years to try and find them. You’re only in your twenties. You were supposed to take over mentoring, which would’ve allowed you to get a better chance at finding your soulmate. 
It was ruined as soon as your name was the one drawn out of the bowl. You felt your heart sink into your stomach, because you weren’t stupid enough to think anyone would volunteer for you. The sighs of relief that came from the other girls was salt in the wound.
For a few hours, you were stupid enough to hope that you’d win, until you saw exactly who was drawn this year. It ended up being the last nail on the coffin. You are going to die inside of the arena, you’re sure of it. That’s why you haven’t taken a single thing seriously this past week.
Why does it matter? Why would sponsors matter? They don’t want you, they want the siblings, they want the volunteers, they want their darlings, and they want the newest trouble. You are just a minor victor in the crowd.
When you were telling your stylist about your pessimistic views, all he could say was that they were entirely justified. The Capitol loves their victor’s unfairly, and then it ruins the chances for the rest of you. Anything that would normally catch the attention of the crowd on a regular Hunger Games is useless here. The parade, the scores, the interview you’re about to do. It’s for nothing.
You trace patterns on the bare skin of your thigh, watching as your prep team and stylist move around the room. They’d briefly gathered a few minutes ago to talk, and ever since they’ve been running around pulling things off the shelves in the closet. You’re guessing it’s jewelry.
Your stylist pulls out one of those protective bags for dresses, except this one is bigger and stuffed with fabric. He unzips it to take a look inside, and you can see the smile come across his face. His eyes dart up to yours, looking at you through the mirror.
“(Y/n),” He begins, coming closer, “I’ve been saving this dress for a special occasion, since I will never be able to use it again in any of my work. Tonight, you will be my muse.”
You give him a slight smile, “Are you sure you don’t want to save it for anything else?”
“I’m sure.” He says, unzipping the bag, “I’m aware you can’t see the color, but you should know that it’s not the most important part. It’s the design.”
Together, he and the prep team work to get the dress out of the bag. It’s a light shade of grey, so you’re going to guess that it’s a pastel color. It’s uncommon for stylists to go for something so gentle, because the lights on the stage tend to wash the tributes out. That’s why the colors are bright and hard, so they can pop and shine.
You think that it’s going to be some small dress, but the fabric never stops. There’s so much of it. He tosses the dress bag off to the side, and then unzips the back for you to get into. It takes a minute, they have to adjust and pin the dress where it’s too big or too small. By the end, you can’t even tell that it’s been altered.
One of the prep team members gets to work on fluffing the dress, while the other fixes your hair, and then gets to work on putting the jewelry on you. She focuses on your earrings and the necklaces on your collarbone to make sure they’re positioned perfectly. They get you in heels, and then your stylist shuffles in front of you to settle something on the top of your head.
You’re ordered to close your eyes until you’re in front of the mirror and finishing touches are made. They fix your makeup, and then spray something wet and sweet smelling on your skin. You’re guessing it’s perfume, but as soon as you open your eyes and sway slightly, your skin sparkles.
The dress is floor length, off the shoulder but with long and loose sleeves to keep you from getting cold while waiting for your turn to be interviewed. And the object he snuggled in your hair is a tiny tiara that sparkles with your skin each time you move.
You run your hand over the gorgeous patterned lace, letting out a breath, “What color is it?”
“Pink.” He says, coming over to stand behind you, “A gentle and loving pink, one that resembles innocence and beauty.” He fixes a curl, “It’s light and uplifting, and it looks beautiful on you.”
“Thank you.” You smile.
“You’re good to go out, (Y/n). I believe in you.” He says.
You wander out of the room and down the hall, absently tracing one of the closest flowers while you near the line to the stage. The other victor’s are in varying outfits. This year, District Two is subjected to looking like gladiators, the Ritchson siblings are eye-catching in their sequin outfits. Johanna Mason wears a long dress, but she doesn’t look out of place.
A few eyes land on you as you draw closer, but they don’t linger longer for more than a second. They don’t care, a victor from District Five is anything but a threat to them at this point. You’re sure half of them have already decided how they’re going to get rid of you in the arena. And if they haven’t, it’s because they know they can take you in a fight. There’s no use planning it.
It’s only a few minutes later, when the entire hallway is going completely silent. You look over to see Katniss, dressed in a large wedding dress. You should’ve guessed, that was the whole obsession after their Victory Tour. Of course, her stylist would try one more thing to catch the Capitol’s attention.
“I can’t believe Cinna put you in that thing.” Finnick says, there’s a look of bewilderment on his face.
“He didn’t have any choice. President Snow made him.” Katniss defends.
Cashmere flickers her hair over her shoulder, “Well, you look ridiculous!” She spits, taking Gloss’ hand and walking off with him to stand at the front of the line.
You swallow, closing your eyes. You don’t know how you’re going to survive this, really. You know nothing about any of these people, except for what you’ve seen on the screen. You’re at a severe disadvantage compared to the other female victor’s back home. At least they got to talk to half of these people.
The only two victor’s that feel the same way you do must be Katniss and Peeta, but even they’re fitting in more than you are.
You resist the urge to rub down your face, but you do let out a slight huff. You guess you’ll just have to resort to hiding in the arena, even though you didn’t win through that strategy. You mostly fucked around with trying to set off traps and force the gamemakers to accidentally kill the tributes for you. It worked, it’s why you’re standing here today. 
That’s not going to fly in the arena, though. These people have watched your games, the same way you watched theirs. All strategies are on the table, which means that you’ll need to figure out how to camouflage and hide, immediately. 
Cashmere and Gloss lead the way onto the stage, and one by one, you make your way to the seats at the back of the stage. The audience is loud, cheering and whistling. The lights are blinding, you squint through them, relaxing your face when you’re adjusted to the brightness.
You tuck the dress beneath you before you sit down, as soon as you’re planted in your seat, you can feel the nerves in your stomach settle. You haven’t been on a stage in a few years, you remember hating every minute of it. From the parade, to your face being shown for scores, to all the interviews and speeches you did after you won. You hated every second of it.
Caesar’s hair is a different color, it’s some type of grey, so you’re thinking it’s a muted color. You know that he changes it every year, you wish you could see, because you’re sure he looks fantastic every time. He’s been hosting the Hunger Games for a long, long time. That’s a lot of colors to go through, repeating or not.
He does his usual opening-interview spiel with the audience by cracking a few jokes and getting them in a fun mood. From what you’ve heard from your mentors, the citizens of the Capitol are torn between hating the Quarter Quell and adoring it. It’s clear on why; most of the favorites are here. It’s a shame they don’t know how much power they hold.
Cashmere starts the interviews with a speech on how she’s been crying ever since she was chosen. She’s so heartbroken over the fact that the Capitol is suffering because of how many victor’s they’re losing to the games. Gloss follows up with talking about how they’ve been so kind to them ever since they won, and it’s been a pleasure mentoring since.
Enobaria expresses how sad she is that she won’t be able to experience the Capitol’s wonders, since there’s more to live through. She was hoping to get more body modifications and possibly become one of their featured darlings, or a modeling icon for the people back home. 
Beetee does his intelligent rambling, talking about how the Quarter Quell is technically illegal and it shouldn’t exist in the first place. He asks if the experts—Gamemakers—have considered this and examined it as of late. You watch as Wiress goes up and backs him up calmly, explaining that this isn’t fair.
When Mags takes the stage, it’s filled with Caesar guessing what she’s trying to say, but you can tell that she’s outraged, too. She’s too old for this, and yet she volunteered to come to save a girl she mentored. Finnick talks through a bright smile, and when Caesar asks if he’s got anything to say, his eyes darken. He proceeds to recite a love poem that’s clearly talking about his home district and how he might not get to see it ever again. It’s misinterpreted and too many people in the crowd think it’s aimed at them. 
“For District Five, we have the lovely (Y/n) (L/n)!” Caesar shouts, hand held out in your direction.
You get to your feet with a smile, heading toward the front of the stage. You place your hand in his, he squeezes your knuckles, “Hello, Caesar.”
“Hello!” He laughs, looking over what you’re wearing, “Well, don’t you look pretty! I don’t think I’ve seen anything quite like this before on stage.”
“My stylist was saving it for a special day, and that’s tonight, I suppose. I was just as surprised as you are.” You look out to the audience.
“Yes, it has been an interesting night so far.” He agrees, “Tell me, what was going through your mind at the reaping?”
You give a half-shrug, “I was disappointed, if I’m being honest.”
“And why’s that?” He asks.
“Well, I’m sure you can guess.” You shake your head, “I’m sure it’s an honor for some people to be back here again and have the opportunity to compete, but I’m losing out on one of the most important parts about living.”
“Let me guess, getting to mentor tributes?” He smiles.
You shake your head again, “No Caesar, it’s getting to see color.”
There’s enough gasps at once that makes your smile inwardly. You know what the other victor’s are trying to do, so you’ll help them. Even if they don’t invite you into their alliances, you’re with them on this. You don’t want the Quarter Quell to happen. You want to go home. That’s why you’ll expose yourself to the Capitol, because you’ve heard how colorful they are. They’ll eat up the idea of living this long without seeing color, ever.
Caesar gapes for a second, “You haven’t found your soulmate yet?”
You look out, “I will never get to see the Capitol the way the rest of you do. I hear the buildings are brightly colored, I hear how gorgeous the clothes are. And I will never get to experience that, because it’s being taken away from me.”
You can feel the tears build in your eyes. They’re partially real, because all you’ve ever wanted was to see the world the way your parents did. They saw real beauty everywhere they looked, and you saw nothing. And you will see nothing, until the day you die in the arena.
You hard blink to force the tears down your face, throat clogging. You have to play it up for them, otherwise they won’t care. You take a few seconds to dab at the corners of your eyes, with Caesar comforting you. The citizens are eating it up, there’s a few of them crying, you can’t see them past the light in your eyes, but you can hear them out there.
“I’m sorry, (Y/n).” Caesar squeezes your hand.
“I am too.” You sniff, fanning your face, “For what it’s worth, I think the city is beautiful without color, too.”
The buzzer goes off, signaling the end of your interview. There’s shouts complaining over how short it felt. You kiss the tips of your fingers and blow a kiss to the crowd before turning away and walking back to your seat. You struggle to hold in the smile that wants to break over your face.
The next few interviews are just as brutal. Johanna questions whether or not the creators can do anything about it. They never anticipated that the Capitol and the victors would form such a bond. Cecelia does a number by saying goodbye to her kids on camera, which has the whole audience in tears.
Seeder’s calm when she says that Snow is considered powerful. If he is, then certainly he can change the fate of the Quarter Quell, right? Chaff comes in swinging, reciting the same thing as Seeder but enforcing the idea that Snow must not care about the way his people feel.
And then Katniss walks to the front and the audience is in shambles. She’s unable to speak for several minutes, and by the tame she can, she’s speaking about her wedding. How none of them will be able to attend it, now that she’s been reaped for another Hunger Games, but Snow wanted to show them what could’ve happened.
She starts twirling like she did last year, except the minor flames from the year before have turned into large ones. They consume the end of the dress and eat away at the layers, until it reaches her shoulders, and suddenly the flames are gone. You’re left staring at a black dress with feathers. When she stretches her arms out, wings appear. 
Katniss’ interview ends almost a minute later, and she takes her seat. This allows Peeta to come to the front of the stage, where they go back and forth being comical. Caesar changes the topic to the Quell once he sees an opportunity to, and there the mood slowly spirals downward.
He says that he and Katniss are already married, and they did it privately while they could because they wanted the moment to be theirs. Then he quickly says that it’s unofficial because the traditions back home mean almost nothing to a piece of paper confirming it. Caesar and the crowd eat it up, completely on the edge of their seats.
“As you say, no one could’ve. But I have to confess, I’m glad you two had at least a few months of happiness together.” Caesar says. There’s a round of applause, Katniss briefly looks up from her dress.
“I’m not glad,” Peeta suddenly ays, “I wish we had waited until the whole thing was done officially.”
There’s a shock that goes through Caesar, he doesn’t say anything for a second, “Surely even a brief time is better than no time?”
“Maybe I’d think that, too, Caesar,” Peeta spits, “if it weren’t for the baby.”
Silence.
The words sink in the air, but as people get to their feet, shaking their fists, voices raised and screaming about injustice, it sparks others to follow. It’s not long before the whole audience is a wreck and nothing but an indiscernible noise. Caesar stands there dumbfounded, speaking into the microphone but not gathering any attention.
You press your lips together to hide the smile cracking at the corners of your lips.
Caesar’s trying to get the crowd to calm down, chaos has broken out. There’s no point in saying anything once the anthem begins to play. The volume’s so loud that you can feel it in your chest when the deeper parts play. It lets you know that it’s time to get to your feet to say goodbye on the program.
You lace your fingers in front of you, but quickly notice that others are not doing the same. As you look down the line of victors to your left, where Peeta is at the end, you can see that they’re holding hands, and your district partner has his palm open to do the same. 
You grab his hand, and turn to Finnick, who has this little smile on his face, hand held up for you to take. You carefully place your hand on top of his, he’s quick to lace his fingers with yours. You squeeze tightly, hoping for some reassurance, and find him squeezing back.
When you look up to the crowd, your face twists. The light is just as strong, but you can tell what’s beyond it, because it’s no longer a sea of different shades of black, white and grey. They’re in color, they’re bright, and they almost hurt your eyes from the shades they’re wearing.
You gasp, tears filling your eyes when you look out. You remember what your stylist said about the dress you’re wearing, and look down at it. Gentle, loving, innocent, beauty, light and uplifting pink. He was right. He dressed you as a princess for these people.
You tear your eyes away to finally, finally look at Finnick, your soulmate. The reason why you’re seeing these colors. You’re met with bright and breathtaking eyes, watching your face with a crooked smile. You can’t help the laugh that comes from you as the tears overflow your eyes. 
“It’s you.” You breathe.
“It’s me.” He agrees.
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