#katniss oneshot

[heliads]

I recently re-read the hunger games trilogy, so can you write a katniss fic with a fem!reader being secretly haymitch's daughter?? nothing much, just the two of them spending time together, hunting or spending some quality time together, ignoring the capitol, the world and individual problems to enjoy the hours they have together

please let me write for thg i love this request

masterlist

It is a terrible thing to be a Victor. Most people only look surface level, choosing to focus on the gilded trappings and gaudy praise the Capitol heaps upon you. Beneath the facade, living with the memories of what you’ve done is far harder than finding a way to burn through all the money they give you for killing twenty-three other children while all the world watches on. The price of blood was always worse than the price of gold, anyway.

You’ve seen this once before already. The Capitol does its best to stay up to date on every little detail of their lovely Victors’ lives, but when Haymitch Abernathy had his first child, he did everything in his power to ensure that no one would ever find out. That infant would live in someone else’s home, kept out of sight of the cameras and the Arena alike, and she would grow up to be you.

It wasn’t the worst of lives. It kind of was. No one can pick their place in life when they first come into the world, obviously. Otherwise, we’d all be living up in the Capitol and no one would be down here, choking on coal dust, waiting for their bones to turn ash so their body can be burned to heat the homes of the rich and prosperous a million miles away from them.

Haymitch watched out for you as best he could. He sent your foster parents money when he remembered it, always a little out of schedule, a touch too much to cover up for the fact that he forgot the last time around. He started remembering as you got older, though. He stopped feeling ashamed of you and started feeling ashamed of himself.

You see him a lot, although the frequency of your meetings always picks up around the time of the Games. He needs it as a reminder that not everything about him always leads to death and ruin. Once in a blue moon, Haymitch Abernathy is responsible for something good. Something, someone, like you.

There’s a schedule to the Games, one that isn’t known or enforced by the Peacekeepers, and it goes like this:  first there is the before, and then there is the after. Prior to the start of the Hunger Games ceremonies, Haymitch will be over at your place. You’ll talk a lot. Both of you will do your best to keep the conversations light. Remember when you were a kid, crawling around all the time? How you used to laugh like crazy whenever it snowed?

Then he’ll get dragged off by the Capitol to go mentor two kids until they die, and then you reach the second phase of the schedule, the after. Haymitch will hole up in his estate in the Victor’s Village, the only occupied house there, the only living being around because he couldn’t save a single person other than himself, and you will find him because no one else will. It’s quiet most of the time. He doesn’t want to think about anything at all, and certainly not the additional two kids who placed their faith in him just for him to let them down again.

After a while, he’ll manage to claw his way out of it, and then you’ll have the better part of a year before the cycle repeats. You’ve had plenty of time to grow used to this pattern, and you’ve perfected it like a pastime. The right words to say get easier to remember when you say them every year. And now, as a reward for getting it right, you get to repeat the process with Katniss Everdeen.

You say that like it’s a bad thing. It’s not. Truth be told, it’s easier spending time with Katniss than anyone else, even right after her first Games when everything is bloody and terrible. You could see yourself doing this again next year, and the next one, and the next. You don’t think you would mind it. Not at all.

Perhaps that’s why Haymitch set this up in the first place. Maybe he knew it would be okay. Or maybe he was just so ridiculously pleased that he managed to save not one tribute but two that he was only thinking about prolonging Katniss’ survival. The reasons don’t always matter. What happened, happened, and secretly you’re glad of it now.

Katniss had been locked in a death spiral of nightmares and bad memories. It soon became clear that she would lose herself to it if someone didn’t intervene, so someone did. Haymitch took Katniss by the shoulders, shook her a little and told her to get it together, and pointed her to you. You knew what it was like to befriend someone who wanted to shut out the world, who couldn’t sleep without nightmares and couldn’t talk without thinking that someone was watching. You could understand Katniss better than anyone, and Haymitch knew it. Daughters are such wonderful pawns to play, aren’t they?

Again, a cruel way to put it, but this is the truth nonetheless. It’s what Katniss suspected the first time you visited her house, and the second, but after a couple of weeks passed and it grew obvious that you weren’t giving up on her without a fight, she begrudgingly let you in. The two of you had been observing each other for years now, the consequence of there only being so many girls your age in a small town in District Twelve, but things accelerated rapidly after the Games.

You’ll never be entirely certain why. Katniss doesn’t let people in, and she threw up her walls tenfold after she partook in the Hunger Games, unable to discern if someone was talking to her because they wanted to or if they wanted to kill her. She even started growing distant from Gale, because Gale didn’t understand her completely, not anymore. Not like you did.

Over the course of the summer, Katniss’ icy demeanor started to melt. She is hesitant and cautious, but she still smiles at your offhand jokes, always a little surprised, like she can’t believe she’s having this good of a time either. The two of you start meeting up in the forest surrounding District Twelve where no one can see you, where it’s just the two of you and the blissful sunlight waving through endless flurries of leaves above your heads.

And, not according to plan, you realize that you’re starting to fall for her. Katniss is like no one you’ve ever met before, even your dad. You knew how to operate around Haymitch, but Katniss doesn’t require an assembly guide or how-to explanation. You just know her. It is as easy as that.

After realizing such a thing as that, how could you not begin to love her? You can steal your dad’s drinks and get properly sloshed on them, but it’ll never match the tipsiness you feel when you look at her; when she laughs at one of your jokes, always reluctant at first but more easily as she gets more used to you. It makes you want to try again and again, and so you do. Katniss listens every time. She says she likes to hear you.

Instead of running away, you decide to embrace the feeling. You head to the woods more and more often, although never at the risk of the Peacekeepers’ attention. Katniss never tells you when she’s going out, nor do you mention when you’re out here, but the two of you have a habit of finding each other nonetheless. You turn around and there she is, emerging from a stand of trees; she crosses a bank at the same time as you; you climb a tree to get a better vantage point of the forest and you’re instantly drawn to the sight of her doing the same across a clearing. Katniss makes sense.

If you squint your eyes just right, you can make your entire world double. The hazy afterimages of present day will swim before you, a hair out of line but still there, still two instead of one. For example, right now, walking through the woods beyond District Twelve, it’s as if you can see two exact images of the current moment instead of only one.

On one version of this day a few years ago, when you hide away from the world in the forbidden greenery past your district’s limits, you come across Katniss Everdeen and you hide from her, too. You do not know her. Not well, at least. You see her and pretend otherwise. She does the same. She heard your footsteps first and thought herself visited by a deer instead of a girl. Her finger tensed on her bowstring, but she released it the second your face finally came into view. Katniss could not kill a person.

Would not. Katniss can kill a person, as it turns out, she can outlive twenty-two tributes through various purposes and keep one other alive, then do it again, but she does not know that yet. All Katniss knows in this past moment, this one half of a fractured memory, is that she will not kill you, and that is true today, too.

On the other version, the one that happens today, you do not run from Katniss, you go to her. That is the whole purpose of risking the Peacekeepers’ wrath by ducking under the fence to escape to the forest. The wilderness means Katniss, and Katniss means you’ll be able to spend another day relatively free from the concerns of a girl from District Twelve who has increasingly little between herself and the violence of not having enough.

Katniss doesn’t turn when you approach, but you can hear the quiet smile in her voice when she admonishes you, “You’re going to scare away all my game.”

You chuckle. “No, no. I’m drawing them out of the bush so you can shoot them. It’s teamwork.”

“If it were teamwork,” she argues, “you would also have a bow.”

You lift a shoulder. “I would never dare steal your favorite weapon. I want you to feel important.”

This does make her laugh. Almost indignantly, yes, but still a laugh. Still a win for you. She manages to nab a few birds before setting her bow down for the morning. The two of you sit side by side in the tall grass, a cool breeze blowing upon your faces, bringing with it the tender tangy scent of the forest.

Usually, neither of you have ever suffered from awkwardness when you’re out here. You could spend hours out here, not saying a word, and it would be just as fulfilling as if you’d spoken the entire time. Today, though, there’s something stuck on the tip of your tongue, a truth that refuses to go unsaid no matter how you fight it.

At last, you give in and, keeping your eyes resolutely ahead, you tell her what’s on your mind. “I’m glad you’re with me, Katniss.”

You can see Katniss frowning out of the corner of your eyes. “Where else would I be?”

You roll your eyes. “You know what I mean. You could have heard me coming and avoided me the second I stepped into the forest. Probably would have caught more, too.”

Katniss shakes her head doubtfully. “No, we’re good. This is good.”

She sets her jaw determinedly, like this settles everything. It does, in a way. It gives you the courage to continue. “I’m glad to hear it. I like spending time with you.” A pause. “I like you.”

Katniss’ brow knits. “Why would you like me?” Genuinely confused, she adds on, “I’ve done terrible things, Y/N.”

“We’re all terrible,” you whisper back softly.

She rolls her eyes. “I’ve been in the Games. You haven’t.”

This is true. No matter how much time you spend with Haymitch or Katniss, nor how many stories you hear about the Hunger Games, it will never be the same as actually taking part in them yourself. With all luck, you never will. Both Haymitch and Katniss would fight to keep you out of them, and then to keep you alive, should that happen, but the possibility shrinks with every year as you get older.

“I still want you,” you tell her. More the empty forest air; you can’t quite say this to her face, not yet. The fear of rejection after everything is too great a burden to bear.

When you do risk a glance over at her, though, Katniss doesn’t look affronted. Instead, she looks more at peace than you’ve ever seen her. Slowly, carefully, her face upturned to catch the morning sun, Katniss smiles again. You’re not even sure that she’s aware of doing it. It is simply the only way she can process that this, you wanting her, would make her happier than anything else.

And, sitting here in the forest, surrounded by a million memories of all that you have done together, a thousand hopes of all that you have yet to do, you look over at Katniss and you know. You know that she loves you. You know that she can’t say it, not yet, not until she’s certain that you love her as much as she loves you.

She will tell you, though. In time. Perhaps it’ll happen another day out here past the confines of District Twelve, in a space that has always been safe to the two of you and will thus protect her from the fallout of confessing to a friend. Perhaps she’ll tell you while you’re asleep next to her, to avoid a response, or perhaps she’ll tell you while you’re pretending to be asleep, so she knows you’re heard and you don’t have to tell her anything.

Or, maybe she’ll just say it now, unspoken but still startlingly loud, audible in every glance your way, every faint smile she never bothers to hide. That, you think, would be enough.

hunger games tag list: @w1shes43, @ilovexavierthrope

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[ilguna]

☼ sensitive (Katniss Everdeen) ☼

summary; as part of Katniss' prep team, you hoped you had more time with her.

warnings; swearing,

wc; 1.6k

prompt: 29. "If you're going to cry, I'm going to punch someone."

–

In the Capitol, there’s a tradition for the prep teams and the stylists of the same District to gather together on reaping day. You all will go to the apartment where the tributes will be staying, and prepare to get your first look at the tributes that you’ll be taking care of for the rest of the week.

The avoxes will prepare the food off of the predetermined menu and serve drinks while the rest of you will wait in the living room for it to be time. The stylists for both genders will bring the designated closets for the tributes, and stock the rooms ahead of time. 

When they’re done, there’s a lengthy discussion on theme ideas for the tribute parade and the interviews to make the tributes stand out. Typically, it’s preferred that the tributes have matching outfits to give the illusion of unity, even if they’re not allies. On the chance that it’s too obvious they can’t be matching, you’re forced to come up with two different outfits that fit their personalities but fall under one idea.

It’s an exercise to get the creative juices working. And between the two prep teams and the stylists, there’s enough ideas to fuel the next few years. They jot them down, and in the case of an emergency, they’ll be used.

This was new to you last year. 

The year before that, you were training underneath Flavius, Venia and Octavia, working as an assistant to train you to work with a better district later on. It was fully intended for you to get moved to one of the careers, because you had the abilities. District Twelve was just supposed to be a stepping stool for you to get the experience for the better job.

Only, that opportunity never came, because each spot that became available at the end of the year, were continuously filled. You weren’t the only assistant that was waiting to be a prep team member. It’s a long wait list, and an even longer one if you want to be a stylist.

You were afraid that you were going to be forced to start over completely, until Cinna came to fill the District Twelve stylist spot. As a new stylist, he had many ideas, and he purposely chose Twelve because he wanted to evolve them from just coal miners to something eye-catching.

When he saw that you were in danger of being stuck as a floating assistant between his three helping hands, he managed to appeal to President Snow to let you become a fourth member. 

Since you had been bouncing between Venia, Flavius and Octavia, you had an eye for every element that they did. It was to see where you flourished the most so that you could focus on that, but nothing ever spoke out to you. The only thing that you seemed to be able to do was spot the mistakes they often left by accident, because they would overlook those small details after working for so long. With your fresh eyes, you could go in and point out every mistake and by the end, the tribute could be flawless.

Cinna saw that, and ran with it.

Despite having a new role made for you, your friends were nothing but supportive, telling you that you’re made for a position like that. The only issue that sprouted was when Cinna informed you that you could be the blueprint for the other prep teams, if you succeed.

Hypothetically, it should’ve been relatively easy, because it’s what you had been doing anyway. Your friends saw your anxiety, so they walked you through what you should expect during the reaping, because it’s almost always the same pattern. If there’s any District to test on, it’s yours, the tributes aren’t focused on from day one.

What they had prepared you for was completely thrown out the window the second Katniss Everdeen volunteered over her younger sister. The silence in that apartment was deafening, as everyone tried to overcome their shock.

There were a lot of mixed reactions. It would be the ultimate test to see where you all were standing skillswise. With a new stylist, and a prep team that had been working their ass off to catch you up on everything they knew. Everything that you had been working for in the winter would be put to the test.

It didn’t help that it was history as well, District Twelve had never seen a volunteer in their life, which meant that the pressure was on.

The moment Peeta was drawn behind her, their fate was sealed. The Capitol finally had a pair of solid tributes from Twelve, and everything was going to be put into them to prove it.

Now that you’re sitting here, an entire year later, waiting for it to be your turn to talk to Katniss before you send her into the tribute parade with the other victors, you can’t help but to wonder if you cursed her instead.

You didn’t think you’d grow this attached to Katniss. You don’t think that the others had the same intention either, but after spending the last year and a half watching her, checking on her, ensuring that she’s set up for success—it sort of happened.

In six days, you will be forced to say goodbye and watch her go into an arena, again. This time, with twenty-two other skilled victors, in an arena that will be specially engineered to keep her on her toes every second of the day. This time, with lower odds of making it out alive.

You wish it didn’t have to be this way.

The door to the room opens, revealing a tearful Venia and Flavius. Octavia isn’t in the same state that they are, she seems to have just pulled herself together. You slide off the stool, catching the door as you go through, and shutting it tightly behind you.

“If you’re going to cry, I’m going to punch someone.” Katniss warns you.

You look up from where your eyes have fallen to the floor, finding a pointed look on her face. Just by looking at her, you can tell her whole body is tense. She must not take tears very well then. Venia and Flavius have a tendency to lay it on thick, too. It must’ve been a long morning for her.

You shake your head, go over to the table of supplies, and grab the flashlight that you’ll shine on her body to catch any stray details. “Katniss, name one time I’ve cried in front of you.”

She lets out a breath, one of relief. She slides off the metal table, holding her arms out without being asked. She knows the routine of you doing the body examination, “Never.”

“Then why are you worried?” You smile, shaking your head.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting them to cry the whole morning, so you might’ve had surprises for me.”

“If it’s any comfort, I wear my emotions on my face.”

“You and everyone else here.” She mutters.

The first time you were left alone in a room with Katniss to inspect her, you almost broke down. You were so used to someone else being in the room to help guide you through each step. The idea of the tributes having a tendency to be standoffish, meant that the pressure to succeed without looking like a moron was crushing.

The one thing that worked for you was talking to someone, it allowed you to take your mind off of what they really must be thinking. It’s hard to be mean to someone that’s making an effort to make both sides comfortable, right?

You remember the way Katniss didn’t say a single word to you the entire time, letting you talk her ear off while you went over every inch of her body to make sure that it was properly done for Cinna. And at the very end, you let her put an extra layer of the cooling cream on her body for putting up with your anxiety.

The next time you saw her, after the tribute parade, she struck up a conversation with you.

You found out that Katniss is only a few years younger than you are, and she has a lot of shared interests as you. You didn’t think that it would be possible for you to make a friend out of her, because of how intimidating she could be at times. Yet, here you are, not an ounce of tension between the two of you, and she feels comfortable enough to complain to you. 

When you’re done, you pull the silk robe off the hook and hand it to her. She pulls it on immediately, and then takes a seat back on the metal table. You take in a breath to speak, and she waits expectantly, but you can’t force any words to come out. 

What’s there to say? Your friends cried it out, all that’s left are apologies.

You try again, “You know, I was really looking forward to working with you and Peeta as mentors. It sounds selfish, but—”

“We’re friends, (Y/n).” Katniss says, “I was hoping we’d have more time, too.”

You don’t say anything for a long moment, “Maybe we will.”

Katniss gives you a knowing look, because you both know that it’s not going to happen.

[gorgeys]

FOR YOU ★ katniss everdeen

katniss everdeen x fem!reader

you see katniss for the first time after she wins the 74th annual hunger games

warnings: just some cheesy fluff bc i watched the hunger games for the first time

word count: 1145

note: this takes place after the first movie bc i’ve only watched that one and the ballad of songbirds and snakes 🫣

also this is kinda based on that one forrest gump scene where he’s at the vietnam war protest and jenny starts running to him through the reflecting pool to get to him 😭😭

hope you enjoy!!

the second she steps off the train, she’s already surrounded by the crowd.  some people are chanting her name, others are offering her the three-finger salute, and some are even crying.  she feels peeta squeeze her shoulder as he steps off behind her, and she can sense the smile on his face.

but she can barely feel his fingers on her skin or hear district 12 celebrating around her.  she’s so focused, her eyes frantically scanning the crowd.  there were so many people there to congratulate and thank her yet she only wanted to see one person.

it takes a few seconds before she hears a faint shout of her name.

“katniss!” the voice calls out.  “katniss!”

her ears instantly perk up and she instinctively moves toward the source of the sound.

“katniss!”

it’s clearer now and she’s sure she knows who it belongs to.  she can see people getting shoved in the back of the crowd as someone makes their way to the front.  she doesn’t even need to see who it is before tears rim her eyes.

she involuntarily releases a strained noise of sheer desperation before she speeds up, the crowd kindly parting for her.  the same can’t be said for you as you use every bit of your strength to push past citizens, some of them leaving you irritated glances.

luckily you make quick work and suddenly your unkempt hair catches katniss’ eye.  she notices your rough, seasoned hands fighting those around you to get to her and now she’s nearly running toward you.

she screams your name, letting you know that she’s seen you and reminding you of how intensely she’s missed you.  her voice is raw and distraught.  she reminds you of how painful it is for her to be without you.

only when you’ve made it all the way to the front do you stop and does katniss get a clear look at you.  you stumble out of the crowd, nearly falling, but you catch yourself.  bystanders stare, questioning the importance of your presence, but all you do is look up and meet katniss’ eyes.

she stops fifteen steps ahead of you.  only then does she remember why she had fought so hard to stay alive; why she had killed; why she had refused to give up even when the odds were against her.  because, when she looked into your eyes—your perfect, beautiful, joyful eyes that reflected all of her own emotions—she remembered that it was all for you.

she refused to let her life end in that artificial forest because her life hadn’t truly begun until she was able to be with you.  you were her reason, the single thing that kept her going, that motivated her, that she thought about on every dark, cold, soulless night.  

she dreamed endlessly about returning to district 12 just to be wrapped in your warm embrace, to feel your chaste kiss on her cheek, and to start a new life with you.  in fact, she dreamed about this very moment that she was living in.  she dreamed about everything from how you would look to the way you would look at her.  she dreamed about how it would feel and what she would do, but once she was in the moment, everything was more powerful than she could have ever imagined.  everything was far more perfect than in her dreams.

she watched your own tears swell as your eyes settled upon her.  your hands came to your face, covering your mouth as you fought your natural crying face into a smile.

seeing you cry always made her so weak and she felt her tears start flowing down her cheeks.  she felt her ugly cry begin but she couldn’t help it.  it felt so good to see you that it was almost painful.  you had woven your way into her heart and now the two of you were one.

a tiny part of her brain was scared of what you might think of her.  would you be afraid of her after seeing her kill so ruthlessly?  would you lose your feelings after watching her at her lowest moment?  or worst of all, would you be angry at her after witnessing her onscreen romance with peeta?

she had played into her role during the games—the girl on fire who was head over heels for the baker’s son—but the games were over now and there was no need to pretend anymore.  while peeta may have loved her, katniss’ feelings for him were never close to what she felt for you.  she just hoped that you had realized that too.

no matter what peeta would say to her or how many people were there to worship her, everything seemed insignificant when she was face to face with you.  and you felt exactly the same.  that empty hole in your chest that had appeared when katniss had volunteered all those weeks ago was suddenly full.  with her return to district 12, katniss everdeen has also returned your heart.

she finally started toward you, slowly at first, and then faster.  it didn’t matter who was watching, whether it was peeta or the capitol or the whole world, she had a primitive need to be with you.  and you would accept her with open arms.

she tightly hugged your shoulders, her grip so strong that you couldn’t have pulled away even if you wanted to.  she pulled your body into hers and kept your face close to hers so that your noses were nearly touching.

your hands found solace holding each side of her face.  she knew how powerful your hands were from all the times you had been hunting together so it meant even more when you were able to hold her so gently.  you always touched her like she was glass that would break in your hands if you weren’t careful.  she relished the feeling; no one had ever treated her so softly and made her feel so special, not peeta, not gale.

when you felt her warm skin beneath your fingers, everything felt all the more real.  she was really there.  she had really survived the deadliest of arenas and now she was here with you.  she was here for you.

you shared a single loving gaze, one that conveyed every emotion.  you shared your sorrow, your pain, your excitement, your joy, your newfound relaxation.  you shared your bare love with each other.

only then did she press her lips to yours in a feverish kiss. your lips fit perfectly as your tears merged into a single stream.  you disregarded air and molded yourselves into each other, willing the moment to live on forever.

a single thought entered katniss’ mind, one that would’ve sounded crazy to anyone but her:

she would’ve done it all over again if it meant coming home to you.

omg i’m so sorry that i haven’t been writing any requests i have 9 sitting in my inbox 😭

the next story will prob be camille from house of usher and then i’ll work on those requests starting with naomi from wolf of wall street

i’ll try to be better y’all 😔

[kometqh]

𝐒𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (fem reader)

𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐨; @hashcakes , 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 <𝟑 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 (𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞) 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐲.

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐮𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚, 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

Pink waves grasped at the sand, their back and forth swishing easing your nerves.

You were at the beach, with your love, your husband, Finnick Odair.

It had been a couple of months at this point, after the Capitol was overthrown and President Snow was no longer. Though the Capitol was gone and all citizens of Panem had seemingly integrated into one, equal society, the scars and marks that you had been left with did not go away as easily.

When you had arrived at District 13, you could barely utter a word, barely look up from your wounded palms. It had taken Finnick just over a month to get you to look at him, to let him hold you, and even more to get you to speak. But when you did, he cried of joy. He had asked you carefully if he could embrace you, and kiss you.

The Capitol did not only take away your voice, but they took much more than that. Your love for the seas.

You remember it vividly; eyes covered by a mask until you only saw darkness, the electrified currents rushing through your muscles, tightening the tissue like a rope. All the while all that your ears could register were your pleading, muffled screams, along with the sound of waves crashing agains the shoreline.

It was all that haunted your nightmares for the next year or so, coming back with dripping fingers, taking you deep down into the void.

When you were rescued, you had to be sedated in fear of becoming a danger to everyone else.

Quickly after waking up, you had been informed that Peeta had brutally attacked Katniss, strangling her to near death. You understood his actions and what drove him to them, and you wished that the young boy would recover quickly, although now you were well aware that these kinds of scars will never truly heal, never fully disappear.

Lost deep in thought, you failed to notice how Finnick's muscular arms wrapped tightly around you, his chin resting on your shoulder as he nuzzled his nose into your neck.

His deep, hushed voice whispered, "What are you thinking, my love?" It never failed to send a pleasurable chill down your spine. Melting into his embrace, your eyes fluttered shut, your head leaning to his.

"Just... About the water," You paused, releasing a soft sigh, "It looks so calm, so safe, and yet I'm still so, so afraid."

You felt Finnick's fingers feeling the soft material of your sundress, rubbing it between the pads of his fingers.

His voice was soothing, dripping with sweetness as he spoke, "We can go back, love. You don't have to do this."

You shook your head. "I need to do this."

He nodded his head, slightly lifting his head to place a kiss on your cheek, his hands caressing your waist. He then slowly let go, one of his hands travelling to your shoulder, then down your arm until his fingers interlocked with yours, fitting perfectly like a key in a lock.

"Let's get this over and done with then."

You smiled softly, though it didn't quite reach your eyes.

You stood a good couple of feet away from where the water met the sand, and yet your heart was still rattling like a wild bird in a small cage.

Finnick was trying something called 'Exposure Therapy' on you, as suggested by a doctor from 13. It involved you and the water. It took you a long while to be okay with showers, however the bathtub was not an option. That was something you couldn't overcome in your short time in the hospital.

Though now, as Finnick encouraged you to face your deepest nightmares, you felt grateful to at least be able enough to listen to and to watch the waves.

It used to be your most favourite thing to do in the world, and Snow took it away with just a lift of his finger.

Eyes heavily trained on the water, your mind had gone blank. Your lips slowly opened, stuttering over complete silence. You heard Finnick chuckle, and felt his body shake. He turned wholly to you, placing his free hand on your cheek, gazing into your eyes lovingly.

"I'm here, love. We're in District 4, standing on our favourite beach, watching the sea." Finnick said slowly, voice hushed as his eyes searched yours. "As long as I'm around you'll always be protected, always be safe." He continued, placing a tender kiss to your lips, and you leaned in, butterflies fluttering around in your stomach.

As the two of you parted, you nodded your head lightly, gaze never leaving his.

A soft smile stretched across his face, his teeth gently peering through the gap between his lips. His dimples were also peering through, and you felt the urge to touch his face, to feel his skin on yours.

"Now, we'll go into the water, is that okay?" He asked, but you didn't respond. You didn't nod or shake your head, you didn't utter a single word. All you could do was swallow down your fear, and shakily grip his hand.

Finnick's free hand came to hold the side of your face again, his own face coming closer and closer, until your foreheads touched and your eyes were closed, listening intently to the sound of the waves, the sound of his voice.

"I've got you darling. You're safe." He continued, and pressed another kiss to your lips. Your grip on his hand tightened, and your free hand travelled up to his hair, gliding through the golden locks, down to his cheek.

Your hand caressed his sun-kissed skin. You didn't open your eyes, and instead squinted them shut as you felt the fear creeping up your bones.

"Look at me honey, I need you to show me that you know you're safe." He says, nudging your nose with his. "I'm gonna be with you every step of the way darling. With me around you ain't got nothing to be afraid of." He whispered softly, his hand squeezing yours back as he took two steps back, pulling on your hand.

Your eyes fluttered open, and you could feel your breath beginning to hitch as you moved two steps forward.

You could feel your heart stop for a moment, before it began to hammer again. With a deep breath, you nod your head.

"You'll keep me safe, Finn."

At that, the corners of his lips curled upwards, his dimples coming back. You trailed closely to him, leaving an arm's length between your bodies.

The sand beneath your feet was soft, still dry as you trudged forward, coming closer and closer to the foamy, pink waves. You slowly looked up, and with laboured breaths, you noticed how pretty the cloudy sky was.

The rising sun casted a candy cotton colour to the skies. The rays gently grasped at the horizon, and you stumbled for a moment, your breathing calming as a light breeze took a hold of your hair, pulling it as it went past you.

A soft smile appeared on your lips, and you felt a snap of confidence rush through your veins. In the corner of your eye, you saw Finnick turning back to look at you, his small footsteps coming to a stop as he allowed you to absorb the beauty of the morning sky, his eyes softening at the sight.

You looked to him, grinning a toothy smile as you gave his hand a tight squeeze. With a nod of your head, Finnick began moving again, tugging you towards the water, his warm hand embracing yours.

At first, you only felt the tame licks of coolness against your feet. The confidence you felt quickly evaporated.

You felt terrified, heart pounding against your chest with a long-known fervor, but you also felt the smallest bit of comfort.

It reminded you of how you and Finnick would run into the water, swim into the unknown depths without a single bit of fear. Back when you were kids, back when you were safe from the ghastly tentacles of the Hunger Games.

Now, as you stood there, your mind was at war. More water began lapping at your feet, dragging soggy sand over your skin lazily.

"Is this okay?" Finnick's soft voice ripped through the air, and you looked up, seeing how he was standing over you protectively, hands ready to lift you effortlessly and get away from the sea. His golden locks bounced in the sea breeze, the sun shone behind him, highlighting his honeyed skin.

"Y-yes, it feels... Strange. But I can stand it." Your voice was merely a whisper, and it tugged heavily at Finnick's heartstrings. He looked you over, noting how gorgeous you were in your white sundress, miniature sunflower patterns decorating the entirty of the fabric. Your feet had dug deep into the sand beneath, your legs frozen still, unmoving.

"Can you go any further?" His voice was sweet, steady and full of love. You nodded your head, but struggled to move. Finnick took note of this, and his arm easily wrapped around your waist, guiding you forward. "We can stop at any point, just give me a sign."

The more steps you took, the more numb your limbs became. The water was cold, freezing cold. The sand mostly smooth, though a couple round stones and seashells dug into the soft skin of your feet, lessening as you walked further into the sea, the water rising gradually.

It's when the two of you reached far enough for the water to lap at the hem of your dress that you singalled for Finnick to stop. The waves were much larger, swaying your bodies upwards, but they were also much gentler at this distance. A blanket of darkness enveloped you, and you felt a trickle of sweat falling down the side of your forehead, numerous shivers going down your spine.

Your breath stuttered, and your eyes focused on the water, your muscles cramping.

Finnick stood behind you, placing his warm hands on your hips. He placed soothing kisses to your neck, his fluffy hair tickling your cheek. If it wasn't for him, you'd already be crying hysterically.

His embrace was warm and secure, comforting and mellow. His kisses softly ghosted over your skin, and his hands secured you into place, ready to whisk you away at any moment.

The two of you stood like this for a long while, enjoying each others warmth, feeling the gentle sway of the waves, and your heart eventually calmed, slowly but surely. The waves remained steady, passing by you as though you were nothing but a phantom.

Slowly, your feet began to move, until you were waist deep in the water, eyes closed in concentration, Finnick holding you tightly. Your mouth was dried up, and your eyebrows furrowed in worry, stress cursing through your veins, pulsing like your heartbeat.

"You're doing great, love," Finnick softly muttered, grazing his skin against your own, arms wrapped around your torso to keep you warm, his fluffy hair tickling your face. "You're doing so good, keep going." His voice eased your nerves, and slowly but surely, your shoulders relaxed, and you released a shaky breath.

"Thank you Finn, thank you." You whispered, and you fought hard to open your eyes, but the wet sensation of tears had stopped you. You began to sniffle softly, and soon you felt the tears escaping your closed eyes, sliding down your cheek.

Finnick's thumb quickly wiped the first stray tear away, but more poured out. Your quiet sniffles turned into hiccups, body shaking with every breath you took, with every movement of the waves. Finnick gently lifted you up, carrying you away from the water, until you were safely seated in the soft sand, far out of the waters reach.

"I'm sorry..- I- I couldn't do it, Finnick." You sobbed out, tightly gripping his white T-shirt in your fist, crumpling the soft material.

Your meek, silky tears were cushioned by his shirt, his hand caressing your back with delicate strokes.

"It's okay honey, you did so well today..." Finnick softly muttered into your ear, his voice helping to ease your guilt. You knew how desperate he was to go swimming with you again, to be able to explore the kelp forests and spend day and night relaxing in the waters.

"I'm so so so s-sorry.." You continued, and laid in his arms for a while, until the tears dried up and you were left laying in his lap, watching as the sun made its way higher up into the sky, the sea gently swishing back and forth.

You had been there for hours, silently watching.

You could feel Finnick's stomach begin to rumble, and you shifted in his lap, leaning your head back to look at him.

His eyes were boring into the sea, watching with furrowed brows as he was lost in thought.

"Finn... Finnick," You whispered, your fingers gently tracing his jawline, "I think it's time to go, I can hear that you're hungry."

He blinked a few times, inhaling deeply as he looked down at you.

"Are you sure?" He asked, unsure and unwilling to leave the comfortable spot.

You nodded your head, lightly sitting up but his arms stopped you.

"I think Johanna might be bored of looking after the baby." You spoke with a smile, and Finnick reciprocated with a toothy grin of his, shaking his head lightly.

"Oh she loves our boy, she's always calling asking to come see us." He said sweetly, his grin having turned into a soft smile.

"Fine.. We need to stop by the market anyway, we've barely got any food." You said, leaning back on your hands, sitting between Finnick's spread legs.

"I can go catch something, you know. Maybe some abalone or something, like we used to." Finnick said, trying to convince you.

You didn't need much convincing though, as you knew how much he wanted to go back into the water. Maybe someday you'd be able to join him again.

"Off you go then, but don't be too long, and- and be careful. Okay?" You asked, eyebrows furrowing in worry, lifting your hand to caress his cheek.

Finnick leaned into your touch, the soft smile remaining on his face as he nodded.

"I won't be long, I promise."

With that, the two of you stood up, and you embraced each other. Your arms wrapped around his neck, Finnick's hands finding their rightful place on your waist.

The two of you shared a deep kiss, lips moving together in sync as you smiled, feeling your heartbeat speed up.

The wind tugged at your hair, invisible fingers stroking through it as it flowed by.

Finnick's hold on you tightened, and you felt him inhale deeply, his feet shifting in place. You smiled into the kiss, and felt his tongue dart out slightly, ghosting over your bottom lip.

Your fingers curled into his hair, tugging smoothly at the roots, eliciting a groan from him.

You parted from him, hands leaving his hair, coming down to his shoulders.

His lips chased yours for a second, eyes shut as he nudged your nose with his.

You allowed him one last peck, and then moved your face further away, forcing Finnick to open his eyes.

"Go on, I'll be here, waiting." You spoke softly, the smile on your lips finally reaching your eyes.

Finnick nodded with heavy lidded eyes, his lashes casting pale shadows over his cheeks.

"Fine, but you owe me one more kiss." He stated quietly, his hand flying up to the back of your head, keeping it in place as he stole a passionate kiss from your lips.

He then let go, saying a soft, 'I'll be back in a bit', before he stripped his shirt, handing it to you as he flexed his muscles.

You laughed out loud, head hanging back. He truly never failed to make you laugh.

With one last hug, Finnick proceeded to jog off towards the water, his body disappearing further beneath the waves until you saw him dipping under, for a long while.

You sat in the sand, eyes trained on the water.

He would make a reappearance from time to time for some air, before he'd dip back in.

It took him a long while, but eventually he returned, swimming up to the shore with pocketfuls, one hand grasping a whole bunch of abalone.

You raised your eyebrows in bewilderment, extending the corners of his shirt to create a makeshift basket.

Finnick dumped all of the creatures into it, and you tied the ends together, a gleeful smile on your face. "You sure got a lot." You said, shaking your head at him.

Finnick grinned at you, and you looked him over, from his dripping hair to his toned chest, to his shorts.

There was one more, rather large, shell poking at his pocket.

"I think you forgot some there." You pointed out, and Finnick shook his head with a smile.

"This one isn't for eating," he stated with a laugh, his hand reaching into his pocket to retrieve a snail shell, "It's for you." He said softly, handing you the object.

You looked over it, your fingers tracing the intricate, dark red patterns embroidered into the shell. The overall colour was a faint rosé pink, one of your favourite colours. It felt hard in your clutch, but sturdy and strong.

You brought the shell, or rather conch, up to your ear and listened.

After a short moment, you heard the distant sound of wind echoing through the conch. It sounded much different to the breeze present at the beach, but it was calming, comforting.

You looked up to Finnick, unable to hide your smile.

"It's beautiful... H-How did you find it?" You asked, surprise lacing your voice.

"I looked far and wide for it, I wanted to give you something to remember today," Finnick muttered, his voice gravelly and deep as he tried to catch your gaze, "You did so well today, and I want you to know that I'm so proud of you darling."

He spoke softly, and reached a hand up to your chin, lifting it so that you'd look at him.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you shook your head with a smile. Reaching on your tiptoes, you placed a tender kiss to his lips, feeling how his hand embraced your cheek.

"Thank you Finnick. It's beautiful," You whispered after the two of you parted, feeling the shell in your palm, "I love you so much."

His toothy grin stretched across his cheeks, and Finnick shook his head, gazing at you lovingly, his fingers stroking mellow circles into your waist, "I love you more darling."

[posionhaze]

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

dollhouse

❥ summary: having to work with an old flame doesn’t exactly go to plan

pairing: finnick odair x fem! victor reader

warnings: brief mentions of prostitution | dark themes | slight toxic-obsessive behavior | some fluff!!

genre: I don’t even know

❥ words: 2k

please read at the end of the fic for more information 🫶

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It hadn’t always been so tense between you and Finnick.

You were friends before his games- and before yours. You would have been the youngest victor, just a year younger than him- but of course he got to it first.

After he came back he was different, you expected that- but he had put up a front.

He had never told you what actually happened. What happened with Snow. You found out later- you witnessed it.

With that being said, you were reaped. Mags and Finnick himself mentored you.

Finnick never told you but he wished that you would’ve died in that arena. He knew your fate would be the same as his. Even at the age of 15 during your games, he knew.

He knew how sick Snow was.

You had made it out, purely based on hiding and stealth. You did it.

It took days, 28 to be exact.

They both thought you would’ve died off either by starvation or hypothermia.

You didn’t- you almost did.

You could recall the snow surrounding you, really almost choking you.

The arena was an iceland- cold and white, nothing to it.

You remember after your victory tour Snow wanted to meet with you.

You wished you had died in that arena.

Finnick remembers when you came back to the victors village- you hadn’t spoken to him or even looked at him.

That day you were never the same- like someone took your soul, and in a sense- Snow did. He did much more than that.

Three years passed, you and Finnick had brief interactions when needed.

He was the Capitols Darling and you the Capitols Doll.

Your eyes widened- why was Finnick here?

You were at a Capitol clients party as his side piece for the night- rather his doll. He was actually a regular, he wasn’t that bad considering the extent of the situation.

You didn’t understand why Finnick was there, he could only have been invited by your client…

“Oh! And I’m sure you know Y/n!” Your client says with a wide smile, arm wrapped around your waist.

You were wearing an extremely uncomfortable dress, not that it was bulky or unnecessary- no it was quite the opposite.

Thin and revealing, a baby pink mixed with seafoam green, clients request.

Finnick had a lady at his side, wearing an equally revealing and stupid outfit.

“Of course..she’s a doll..” Finnick replies with his charming grin- you knew it was simply an act. He reaches for your hand, pressing a kiss to it.

You saw the flash of realization in his eyes- you both had the same fate, the one he tried to hide you from.

You give him a sweet smile, letting out a giggle at his words, “You flatter me Finnick!”. Those words never felt more sour coming out of your mouth.

After that night you both grew close again.

You were often in his arms at night, both wanting a sense of normalcy, just for a few hours.

And for a bit it did feel normal, and at some point it felt real.

It was real, you both loved each other. You couldn’t pinpoint when it had happened but you guys ended up in something more than a friendship but never said it out loud.

Now of course you couldn’t tell anyone- not even Mags.

But somehow Snow found out, you weren’t sure how but he did.

Two years of peace disturbed.

Now you figured Snow had only talked to you- only threatened you.

He would’ve killed Finnick if you didn’t comply.

You begged him not to hurt Finnick. For Finnick you sacrificed what was left of you.

When you had gotten back to victor's village, you had ended it with Finnick. That day you broke his heart. Yours was already broken by Snow- much of you was.

You and Finnick stopped talking. Well you did, he didn’t stop.

He was insufferable, petty, pathetic but most of all someone you still loved.

That’s what you hated. That you couldn’t move on.

So it was a year of no contact for you, not playing into whatever game he was playing.

Not until the 73rd hunger games. Yourself 21, Finnick 22.

You both were chosen to mentor district 4. You didn’t know why- well you had a guess.

You and Finnick had two great tributes, a boy named Bay and a girl named Alana.

Bay was shy, a soft spoken teenager who just wanted to go home- while Alana knew what she was up against, she was more insightful- observant.

Alana and Bay knew each other, not very well but close enough to not hate each other.

“Y’know..you can’t spend all this time ignoring me, doll” Finnick says, looking at you from across the table.

It was the second day at the penthouse, you hadn’t spoken to Finnick since the reaping or during the train ride, you didn’t bother.

“Yes I can” You state simply, briefly glancing up at his beautiful sea green eyes. But you quickly avert your eyes, suddenly taking an interest in the glass of scotch you had been “nursing”.

“Really now?” He says with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, “And do you think that’s how an actual conversation works?” His voice is still playful, but he can’t help his curiosity.

Why were you ignoring his presence, why was it so easy for you to do after everything?

You wish you could tell him, let him in again, but you couldn’t. It would have pushed you over the edge, the one you were so close to falling off of.

It was painful having to keep up your capitol act, but you had to. Over and over again, night after night, party after party.

It was that- or have Finnick killed.

“Yeah- I do” You say with a tight lipped smile, focusing on the ice slowly melting in the liquor you barely touched.

“Y/n, you can at least attempt to hide the disdain, the fake smile, and the eyes that are screaming to run straight for the hills.”

Finnick can’t help but notice how you seem to act as if you never loved him, never cared. In that moment his face softens, a rare sight.

“Oh and, let’s not forget the drinks you hardly drink!” He teases a bit, leaning back in his seat. There was the Finnick you knew- the one who would pick and prod until nothing was left.

“You are such a pain” You say with a roll of your eyes, fighting back the urge to punch him in the face- really you would never do that, but it would feel nice to, at least in this moment.

“Yeah well it’s my speciality!” He smiles, leaning over the table as he takes the glass out of your hand- he finishes what is left in one gulp, putting the glass down before leaning back in the chair.

He’s still looking at you, clearly amused by how you act- you can’t help but wonder if it all is an act.

“Will you stop staring?” You grumble out, irritation clear on your face and tone.

“Only when you look at me.” He replies, leaning on his elbows, propping his chin up on fist.

He’s staring you down, he wants that reaction. It’ll tell him everything he needs to know.

And eventually you look at him, your eyes look dull and tired. Your mouth is a straight line.

You notice how his smile has disappeared- he studies you closely, like you did all those years ago- wondering what’s actually behind your eyes.

For the first time in a while you take in his features, his golden-bronze hair, and those sea green eyes.

Oh how you love those eyes.

You let out an awkward cough, breaking eye contact after a moment, “Bay and Alana seem good..I think Alana has a good chance of making it out..” You say, trying to distract Finnick.

“You think so?” Finnick says almost in a hum of approval, a smirk etched on his face.

Your distraction was futile, Finnick is stubborn- he’d get the truth out of you tonight.

He nods, “Bay, I can tell he’s a sweetie, a quiet one- but I think he’ll surprise us. Alanna though! Oh I’m putting my money on her- we’ll see her in that arena.” Finnick takes his eyes off of you for a moment, “You should help them with the training more, doll.”

“Stop Finnick- stop whatever it is you’re doing” You say, the tone of his voice- it disgusted you.

That look, his tone, why does he keep using it on you?

“Aw am I hurting your feelings? I’m so very sorry, doll.” There’s that damn smirk again, how did he not see the look on your face.

It was as if he was teasing you, enjoying the slight torture he was bringing on.

“I just want you to tell me those secrets you’ve been hiding..”

Your eyes flick up to meet his, “Drop it Finnick”

“No.” He replies, his voice sharp and stern- he wasn’t going to let you brush him off.

He reaches for your hand, your skin so soft under his fingers, your hand so perfect under his.

He brings it up to his mouth, and kisses one of your knuckles, “Just talk to me…please…”

But you could still feel his smirk.

You’re quick to pull your hand from his grasp, a sick feeling forming in your stomach.

“I’m going to sleep” You mutter out, leaving your seat and the table, going to your room in the penthouse.

“Damn it..” He mumbles, leaning back into his chair.

He couldn’t leave it alone, he just couldn’t.

He wouldn’t let himself rest either, getting up and walking towards your room- he knew you wouldn’t appreciate it.

He stands outside your door for a minute, trying to gather his thoughts.

Before eventually opening the door and inviting himself in.

“Go away Finnick..” You mutter out, not even having to turn and look to see who it is.

“No.” He says in a stern voice, but there’s hesitation in it.

“I’m not leaving until we talk.” His voice softens as he takes a step forward, “Doll, don’t do this…”

“Finnick..” You say, pausing momentarily. Maybe it was time to let him in again?

“I can’t- I can’t do this right now..” You finish.

“Do what, Y/n?” He steps forward again, closing the distance between you and him- his hands rest on the sides of your hips, chest against your back.

You can feel his breath against your neck, your muscles tense up but he just waits for your reply.

“Just talk to me, please. Let me in, doll.”

“Snow had found out about us..” You say blankly, “He talked to me, threatened your life..he didn’t want us together..because we were so- so useful to him..”

“I didn’t want to hurt you, I thought it would be better to just end it” You add on.

Your words didn’t come to a surprise, he knew Snow would find out eventually.

He’s silent for a moment, before his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close against him- he doesn’t care how tired you are.

You could feel the anger and rage building inside of him, towards Snow.

Finnick moves you in his arms, kissing your forehead before looking right in your eyes, “I still don’t understand why you never just talked to me about it…”

“I was scared he’d do something to you Finn..” You mutter out softly.

“I’m not that fragile, doll.” His lips brush against your temple, he can tell that you’re tired.

“I would’ve been fine, you know that right…”

You honestly didn’t know what to say, what could you?

“I’m sorry Finnick- I’m tired..I- I need sleep..” You say, pulling away from him. You wouldn’t let yourself go back, why wouldn’t you?

“This isn’t a good time....” You add on, averting your eyes again from him.

His grip tightens on your hips slightly- he can tell you’re pulling away from him yet again- and it’s driving him mad.

You’re refusing to let him in completely, refusing to let him love you.

“And I’m telling you- we’ll talk about this now.” He’s persistent, unwilling to be denied.

“Finnick..we’ll talk after the games, after this is done” You say, voice soft yet stern.

Your eyes meet his, both of you don’t say anything for a moment.

“Fine”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

❥ notes: hi!! so this is my first fic on this blog- I want to say I’ve written fan fiction before, so I’m not new- but I’m not the greatest either! I’m new to the hg fandom, so bear with me if my work isn’t accurate or the best! I will be making a masterlist of who I will write for soon!!

❥ uploads certainly won’t be frequent or consistent- I’m sorry to say. I do have an old blog, which I won’t be mentioning. that blog negatively impacted my mental health so I wanted a fresh start with a new fandom and blog :))

❥ once again- I am new so sorry if this isn’t accurate or not the best!! I’d love for any comments or suggestions! I was scared to post this, mostly because of backlash but I hope this was good!! ☺️

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

second part

[fqiryspit]

cold tables

finnick odair x female reader ; cw: finger fucking

he didn't even have the audacity to take your pants off as your sitting upright with your legs spread wide on the cold meeting table, only unzipped and unbutton pants with your panties pushed over to the side

his fingers are inside of you. his. finnicks fingers move in and out of you, slow but so detailed that its making your back arch off the edge of the table

"do you?"

"hm?"

"do you like my fingers inside you?" he asks again, looking you right in the eye as a smirk stretches his lips. he wasn't asking out of nervousness or inexperienced (anything but that) he was mocking you, knowing how you're going in and out of it every time his fingers move in and out of you

"mhm" you whine out, he moves closer, lips almost touching yours

"lay back, right now" he whispers softly yet authoritative. not needing to raise his voice or put any filter on it, not when he's like this at least.

you do as he says, moving down as your long sleeve shirt isn't enough to help with the coldness of the table, fuck you shouldn't even be in here.

his free hand rests above your head as he looks at you, moving down to get a better view of your face when he starts to curl his fingers.

you moan and his mouth slightly opens with a hint of a smile, his thumb lays on your clit, moving it until you bite your lip so hard it bleeds

"keep lookin' at me, don't wanna miss this, baby" he whispers again, speeding up his fingers as you realize he means he doesn't wanna miss the look on your face as you come

he lightly shh's you when your whines crack out of your throat a little too loud, your chest rises and falls rapidly as his fingers move with a consistent speed, you came all over them with a sharp whimper, he leans down and kisses you, both your lips and his dripping fingers being the warmest thing in this room you kiss him deeper as your frozen nose buries in his, with hot breaths leaving them with sharp whines coating them.

[savannahsdeath]

➶ CAN I HAVE THIS DANCE?

K. EVERDEEN

summary: you and katniss dance at the finnick&annie's wedding <3

warnings: alcohol and language but its pure flufff, katniss has a huge crush on you but she doesnt really understand her feelings untill...

a/n: pleaaaase let me know if u guys liked it and want more katniss:pp this is for my fav katniss lover (hi i know ur reading this anon !!)🩷

katniss was sitting opposite peeta, with you on her left side and haymitch on the other. she hoped she could stop him from drinking too much that way, but she eventually gave up. finnick was getting married, after all - that's something worth celebrating, and if his way of doing that is by drinking, then so be it. you couldn't care less. what you cared about, though, was taking her away from this table. she didn't look happy at all, not even bored, just... somehow out of place. of course, she smiled at you every one in a while. how could she not?

you were sitting there, the prettiest girl in her world, wearing the prettiest dress she ever saw, joking with peeta and already drunk haymitch. she heard you giggling and her heart melted. you made the girl on fire feel like she was really on fire, burning more and more with each of your moves. the point is, she was sure that's a bad feeling, yet she loved it. she was addicted to it.

but you were clueless.

she scraped her fork across the plate, making a sound which hurt your ears.

you propped your head on your hands. "what's wrong?" you frowned, trying to see through her.

she immediately smiled, shrugging her shoulders. "nothing's wrong."

"uh-huh..." you hummed, straightening up and tapping your nails on the table. your eyebrows furrowed, hoping she'll continue, but that was all she had to say.

she looked at the freshly married couple and her smile slowly faded away. once her gaze came back to you, you weren't in your place anymore. you now stood behind her and tapped her shoulder.

haymitch laughed, apparently predicting what you are up to. she also chuckled, before turning around to take your extended hand.

she stood up, her eyes drifting between your eyes and lips. "i'm not the best dancer" she admitted.

"we don't have to dance dance..." you reassured her, slowly making your way to the parquet, dragging her closely behind you.

once you got there, you loosely wrapped your hands around her neck, propping them on her shoulders. she hesitated before putting her own on your waist, but you moved a little closer, making it less awkward.

"so, how do you like it?" you smirked, as the two of you started to sway to the slow music.

"well, i'm happy for finnick." she looked at him one more time. "and the food is good."

you giggled and nodded. "of course it is, peeta's the man behind the baked goods." you paused for a moment, licked your lips and bit your bottom one. "you just don't look like you're having fun."

"oh, sweetheart, i do." she shook her head and smiled. she seemed genuine, but you knew what you saw earlier.

you cleared your throat. "then, let me put it another way. what would make you even happier to be here?"

katniss raised her right hand and tugged a strand of your hair behind your ear. her moves were slow, so you could perfectly feel how her finger brushes your skin and lasts there for a few seconds, giving you goosebumps. "i think i'm a little jealous." she grinned.

"jealous?" you frowned, pouting your already dry lips.

"yes, jealous" she confirmed. "i'd rather have my own wedding— with flowers, a huge cake baked by peeta with a little, made of icing me on top. me and..." she stopped speaking as her eyes pierced your body and seemed to look somewhere behind you. you gave her a minute, before she suddenly came back to reality. "you know."

you smiled again, this time not from amusement but admiration. you moved closer, so you could whisper while knowing she can hear you. "i didn't know you want something so serious."

"i didn't know either, that's why i'm so upset." she whispered back, her tone raspy from the change of tone.

that makes sense, you thought. "and who do you imagine as your other half?"

she shrugged, obviously not wanting to talk about it, but it wasn't a valid answer for you.

"you can tell me" you pleaded. "i won't tell anyone— not haymitch, not even for peeta."

she thought for a moment, a good, long moment. "there's that one girl. do you want to see her?" she leaned in, putting her face next to your ear. "look behind you."

you discreetly turned your head, seeing nothing but a window. it was already late outside and the chandelier lightened up the whole room, so the glass worked like a darkening mirror. you saw nothing but your own reflection.

when you wanted to look back at katniss, her hands were already cupping your cheeks. you didn't have time to react, though you wouldn't stop her anyway. oh, no, you wanted that as much as she did... or more.

✧˖°

[fatallyfalling]

Strawberry Wine ~ 𖤓

“ safe & sound “

{{ Peeta Mellark Headcanons }}

warnings: mentions of alcohol, canon Hunger Games violence/trauma, wholesome fluff, etc.

{{ word count }} 487

{{ prompt }} fluffy headcanons for our beloved bread boy !!

{{ a/n }} this is short & sweet while i test out Peeta’s character! I’m not sure what i exactly want to write with him since i’ve adored everlark for forever but for now please enjoy my silly happy thoughts! Some of these i’ve heard around the internet i think but i can’t remember where :[

Peeta Mellark, the ashy blonde from District 12 who stole the hearts of the Capital with his charms and sweet, boyish nature while also managing to tame a stubborn Mockingjay - Katniss Everdeen, and poured out his heart and soul to get back to her any way he could.

- Peeta is a morning person. He'll get up early and have breakfast ready by the time Katniss pulls out of bed (she learns to sleep in post-rebellion).

- His favorite type of bread/pastry is croissants. The tedious labor of laminating the cold butter block into the fluffy dough is cathartic in a way.

- Once, he tried to teach Katniss to paint. Once. Her attempt at trees looked more like crazy brown and green spiders but he still kissed her temple and had the painting framed, much to the girl on fire's dismay.

- Peeta doesn't like hard liquor - he never did. Effie hooks him on a strawberry wine made special in what used to be District 11, he's gifted at least one bottle every birthday or holiday.

- He's such a housewife no questions asked, hands down. Hungry? He'll cook. Thirsty? Anything you want. This man has to be physically removed from the kitchen during friendly gatherings so he can actually relax and enjoy the company.

- Also, his Dad lore is insane.

(speaking to his kids when they're older) "Oh yeah, your Mom tried to kill me once. but it's okay I made it even the next year so we're good now."

"One time I almost got eaten by a monkey in a fight to the death."

"Another time I took a spontaneous road trip, got held hostage, and then led a rebellion to victory alongside your Mom."

- Peeta teaches himself guitar so he can play along while Katniss sings. His chords are wildly out of tune at first, but he gets it eventually.

- Peeta doesn't like store-bought bread, saying his homemade loaves taste better (they do).

- He's a hugger, every hello and goodbye is met by a bear hug. His hugs are amazing as well, nice and tight but also comforting and warm.

- For a while after the war Peeta kept a journal on his nightstand to record his dreams/nightmares. Even if the text turns out to be chicken scratch in the morning Katniss still helps him decipher and work through it to solidify reality.

“What does that say ?”

“Uh… I think… no - wait, I have no idea,”

- Effie and Peeta definitely have wine nights to talk about their scary guard dog partners and how much they love them.

- Speaking of paint - it’s everywhere, all the time, mainly his hands. Oil paint is next to impossible to clean so almost all of Peeta’s shirts have some amount of color speckled on the sleeves or the thighs of his pants.

- Peeta also keeps a cookie jar of homemade cookies in the kitchen, they’re replenished every week with regular flavor swaps.

{{ tags }}

[everlarkism]

You voted, I delivered! Just a small drabble of Katniss getting injured while hunting and Peeta takes care of her. Short and sweet, I apologize for my rusty writing, it’s been a while.

Katniss returned home with a few scrapes on her hands and a limp after a hunting session. Usually she had an animal with her, but not this time. She was on a trail with a lot of tree roots that were above ground, took one wrong step and tripped. Once inside, the bow was hung up on a rack and the quiver of arrows were resting against the wall.

“I’m home.” She exclaimed, walking into the living room and leaned into the doorway. Peeta was folding a page in his book and getting up to greet her.

He furrowed her brows, noticing Katniss had no game with her. “No luck?”

She sighs, shaking her head,”I fell. I could always go back out later.”

“Are you alright?” His voice is full of worry as he gently takes her hands into his own, but pulls away as he sees her wince. Katniss turned them over, revealing the small scrapes on them.

Already, the boy was heading to the bathroom for the first aid kit. “No way you’re going back out there, Katniss.”

“But-“

“No.”

Katniss sighs, carefully making her way over to the sofa and sitting down. Why did she even bother to argue? This girl could have a bruise, and Peeta would be worried like this - but that’s the thing she liked about him, he always cared for her. He just never wanted to see her hurt in any way possible.

He returned to the living room and crouched down, placing the first aid kit on the floor. “Do you think you fractured your ankle?” He asks, starting to remove her boot and sock.

“Peeta, I swear I’m fine.”

Her ankle was swollen and not bent at an odd angle, so it must’ve been a sprain - nothing more. He still ended up wrapping it with an elastic bandage so it could reduce the swelling at least. Once the foot injury was dealt with, he sat on the cushion next to Katniss and asked to see her hands. She laid them flat, palm upwards so he could examine. There ended up being splinters, which he carefully took out with a pair of tweezers and disinfected the scrapes then bandaged them up too.

“Didn't know you were a doctor and a baker.” Katniss teased, a smile forming on her face. “But thank you, Peeta.”

“Learned from the best.” He replied, packing away the equipment,”We take care of each other… It’s just what we do.”

“So, doc… What do you suggest now?”

“To rest.” Peeta gestures to her bandaged ankle,”You’re not hunting until that is healed, I’m afraid.”

“Are you saying you’re going to be the one to hunt?” She jokes.

“I’d never dare to take the Girl on Fire’s place.” He shook his head with a chuckle,”Now let’s get you to bed, hm?” Peeta stood and carefully picked Katniss up in his arms, bridal style.

[7s3ven]

hello! ur writing is so fun and rahhhh i heart it. idk if ur taking cato reqs but i love him bro its an issue. anyhow, childhood friend!tribute!reader and him coming to terms with the fact that both of them cant win. could be platonic or romantic whatever u like<3

I’m literally in love with Cato.

( master list )

DANCING WITH UR GHOST. cato hadley

IN WHICH… Cato Hadley and Y/N L/N accept there can only be one winner. The Capitol watches as one falls and the other leaves the arena with a furious heart, never quite moving on.

Warnings : not proof-read, a little bit of angst, some gore (it’s the hunger games)

—

THG TAG LIST : No one rn 💀

—

It was a hot and sunny day when the Capitol chose to announce the tributes. Small beads of sweat rolled down Y/N’s forehead as she clasped her hands behind her back. The sun was relentlessly beating down on the large group of teenagers crowded in front of the stage, organised by age and all eagerly waiting.

Y/N wasn’t like the rest of her District. She had seen how the effects of the Hunger Games weighed down on the tributes. Haymitch had turned to drinking after the slaughter of his family. Y/N couldn’t imagine returning home to see the people you held dear gruesomely bloodied on the floor.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cato. He stood out from the boys, being one of the tallest and towering over them. He had his jaw clenched and he was impatiently tapping his foot, waiting until he could leap onto the stage.

His head turned and they locked eyes. Y/N was the first to break into an amused smile and he returned it, his pale lips curving upwards.

Y/N paid no attention to the video playing on the screen in front of her. They showed it every year and she had practically memorised the voice lines by now. Her mind flashed back to yesterday, the day where Cato had suggested the unthinkable.

“What if we run away?” He questioned, making Y/N pause. She grasped the handle of her ax tightly as she spun around to face her childhood friend.

“What?” She needed to make sure that she had heard him right. It’s not like Y/N hadn’t thought of it before but for Cato Hadley of all people to ask was outrageous. He was Two’s greatest candidate. They were all counting on him.

“You heard me. What if we ran away? Away from all this and away from the games? I wouldn’t have to worry about being a peacekeeper. We could do it, you and me.”

Y/N has full faith in her axe skills and Cato’s strength but the idea was almost too crazy to pull off. She shook her head, “They’d find us.” She whispered. Y/N was glad nobody else was in the gym because this could be considered treason.

Y/N subtly shook her head. If only leaving District Two was that easy. They would surely notice if their strongest candidate and his axe-throwing friend went missing.

Her attention was caught by the lady, Kikoro, walking towards the microphone in a hideously bright yellow skirt. Beside her, Y/N heard Clove laugh.

Clove was a good friend of Cato’s and by default she was a friend of Y/N’s too. She was shorter than both of them but that didn’t stop her from snapping at people left and right. Her skills with throwing knives were amazing and Y/N often felt a little jealous. Surely the knives were lighter compared to lugging around a wooden stick with a blade attached to it.

“Now, I must warn you, there’s a new little rule. No volunteering this year.” Kikoro uttered into the microphone, her lips covered in yellow lipstick curling into an unsettling smile. She ignored the disappointed jeers from the teenagers as she reached into the first bowl. “Ladies first. It’s only polite.”

Everybody watched with bated breath as Kikoro unfolded the piece of paper painfully slow. Clove was practically shaking with excitement.

Kiroko cleared her throat before she leaned forward, glancing at the crumbled paper. “Y/N L/N.” She said.

Y/N clicked her tongue, thinking it was all a sick joke. She wasn’t scared shitless like the tributes in the paper districts were but she was disappointed. Why her and not somebody who actually wanted to compete?

Y/N begrudgingly stepped onto stage after being dragged by a peacekeeper. “Let go of me.” She hissed, yanking her arm out of the man’s grip.

“What’s your name, dear?” Kiroko asked, gesturing Y/N to step forward to the microphone. The H/C-nette stared at the Capitol citizen in confusion.

“You just said my name… Y/N L/N.”

Kikoro paused before she burst into a fit of light laughter. “Ah, sorry dear. I’m so used to volunteers. Next up, the boys.”

Y/N hoped her District partner would be someone useful who she could discard later. Someone strong but not too strong as to overpower her.

As Y/N rocked back and forth on her heels, she glanced over at Kikoro who was now unfolding the second paper. She read text written in black ink before grasping the microphone.

Hearing her own name getting called didn’t frighten Y/N but as Kikoro declared the male tribute, her heart dropped so fast that she may as well collapsed. It was the one person she wished hadn’t been chosen.

“Cato Hadley.”

The train ride was silent. Enobaria had tried talking to the pair but they never replied. Eventually, she gave up and went to a different compartment.

“We should’ve run away.” Y/N quietly muttered, suddenly regretting not putting the absurd plan into action. Across from her, Cato chuckled.

“Yeah…” He paused, refusing to believe that this was really happening. That he’d have to kill his best friend if he wanted to survive. He was brought back to the harsh reality as the train bumped along the tracks.

“You should’ve played dead… or something.” Y/N stirred the spoon around in her cup of coffee, having no intentions of actually tasting the bitter drink. She licked her dry lips. “What happens if we’re the last ones left?”

Cato didn’t have the courage to answer. He pushed his food around with his fork for a few moments before finally lifting his head. “May the best win.” He uttered.

Y/N glanced out the window, staring at the tall buildings of the Capitol in the distance. She took a deep breath as the train quickly approached the large city and their impending doom.

The days in the Capitol were limited. And they passed by fast. One minute Y/N was standing in front of the dummy targets, skilfully throwing axes as their heads then the next she was in front of a crowd in a glittery gold gown.

“You’re a fan favourite, Y/N. How does that make you feel?” Caesar, with his crazy blue hair and matching suit, said as he widely grinned.

“I guess I’m just that charming.” Y/N smiled as she leaned back in her seat, gracefully crossing one leg over the other.

“Our time is almost up but may I ask the question that everyone has been wondering? What on earth is going on between you and Cato?”

The Capitol had caught wind of the small stolen glances and borderline flirtatious kisses on the knuckles. Y/N shifted in her seat as she recalled the event before this very interview.

“You look…” Cato entered the room, practically starstruck as Y/N stood on a small platform. “Wow.” She frowned as she adjusted the tight bodice of her dress.

“Really? Because right now, I can’t really breathe.” Y/N let out a small laugh but she felt her corset suffocate her lungs.

“Does this look like a face that would lie to you?” Cato grasped Y/N’s hands and helped her off the platform. “I mean it. You look stunning… almost makes me wish we were getting ready for a ball instead of this.” Cato’s face was so close. Y/N couldn’t help but let her eyes dart to his lips.

“You look handsome too.” She playfully grinned as she straightened Cato’s tie. “Blue suits you.”

“We’re just friends.” Y/N repeated that overused phrase while the Capitol citizens groaned in frustration. “I don’t know what you want me to admit… Cato is handsome but I can’t imagine dating someone I’ve known since childhood… his face is getting a little annoying.”

Y/N’s cheeky remark earned her a few laughs.

“If given the chance, I probably would’ve liked to kiss him once, you know?” Y/N’s confidence grew and she forgot all about how Cato could hear her words through the small screen in the waiting room. She folded her arms over her chest just as the timer buzzed.

“Y/N L/N, everybody!” Caesar declared.

She stepped off the stage and back into the shadows, away from the piercing lights. Glimmer and Marvel had already returned to their rooms and Y/N was about to do the same before Cato came into view.

She saw him wave enthusiastically at the crowd but his eyes were on her. She shrank back, suddenly aware of what she had said during the interview.

Y/N scurried off before Caesar could even ask Cato one question. She stormed into the room assigned to District Two. Enobaria was sitting on the couch, clicking the TV remote buttons.

“Need help getting out of that dress?” The sharp-toothed woman asked. Y/N silently nodded.

“Thank you.” Y/N said, finally able to breathe properly again. She would never take oxygen for granted again.

Y/N was only dressed in a black singlet and shorts when Cato burst through her personal room door. “What was that?” He demanded, slamming the door behind him. “If given the chance? I’m giving you the damn chance, Y/N!”

Y/N let out a squeak of surprise when he grabbed her face and pulled her forward, swiftly kissing her like he had been waiting to do so for years. With how his hands trailed down to tightly grip her waist, Y/N wouldn’t be surprised if Cato had been dreaming of this moment.

Cato pulled away, resting his forehead on Y/N’s. “How’s that for a given chance?”

The sun in the arena felt different. Its heat was blistering and Y/N felt her body burning up underneath her heavy jacket. She wanted to discard the warm piece of clothing but it would come in handy at night.

The Careers had already made their allies clear. Y/N glanced at Cato who was already staring at her as usual.

To Y/N’s left was Glimmer, who was impatiently tapping her foot as the countdown began. Y/N stared at the decreasing numbers until it reached five and she had no choice but to get ready to run.

This was no mere dream, it was a reality that Y/N wish she didn’t exist in, for Cato’s sake.

To no one’s surprise, Cato was the first to react as the countdown finished. He leaped off his podium, immediately making a run for a silver sword. Some tributes turned tail and ran but those who joined the mess in the middle were gruesomely stabbed by Cato.

Y/N grasped a pack of throwing knives, tossing the sharp objects at anything that moved. She managed to cut Katniss’ cheek and the ravenette was not pleased about that. The District Twelve girl shot an arrow Y/N’s way but she ducked and avoided it.

“Y/N, here!” Cato tossed a fancy looking axe her way. She easily caught it, swinging it at a foolish boy who thought he could beat her.

The bloodbath didn’t last long thanks to Cato. He either killed or drove off any of the remaining tributes. “I’m feeling pretty good about this.” He grinned down at Y/N as they waltzed around the Cornucopia. He twirled his heavy sword in his hand.

“You’re in a good mood.” Y/N muttered. The hunger for bloodshed had clouded Cato’s mind, causing him to forget that Y/N would have to die in order for him to emerge victorious. She said nothing about it, though, not wanting to spoil his cheerful mood.

“I’ll be in a better mood after this.” Cato chuckled to himself as he pecked Y/N’s lips. He held her close, burying his face in her neck.

Y/N stood still, awaiting the moment where they would be forced to turn on each other. Out of the pair, Y/N had always been the rational realist.

Glimmer was dead, filled with toxin after Katniss sabotaged the Careers’ camp.

Marvel was next. Katniss skewered him like a kebab with her arrow. He died on the forest floor, joining Glimmer in Katniss’ kill count.

And then there were two. Y/N had narrowly avoided being bashed in the head with a stone by Thresh. The side of her head was still bleeding, the crimson liquid staining the green grass below.

Y/N groaned as she collapsed beside Cato, leaning against the large tree trunk. “Who’s left?” She rasped. She had heard a canon go off but she had no idea who it was.

“The boy from Eleven, the pair from two, and us.” Cato replied, his shoulder brushing against Y/N’s. He pulled out a small tin bottle, handing it over to Y/N. She gratefully took a large gulp of cold water. “Don’t worry, we’ll get home.” He whispered, “You and me forever.” After Y/N’s near death experience, Cato realized that the Capitol had played him as a fool. But he was happy about the announcement that said two victors could win if they originated from the same District.

Y/N leaned her head on Cato’s shoulder and closed her eyes, deeply sighing. She didn’t know when she dozed off or how long she was asleep but she cracked open one eye to see Cato hurriedly shaking her.

Night time, the Careers’ prime time to hunt, had already past. When Y/N’s eyes finally adjusted to the light, she furrowed her eyebrows. She was in a cave yet she remembered falling asleep on the forest floor. And Cato was covered in bites and gruesome grazes and blood. So much blood.

“Cato…” Y/N breathed, quickly leaning forward, “What happened to you?”

“I killed Katniss and Peeta… and the mutts killed Thresh. It’s you and me left, Y/N.” His sounded sounded so weak and he sluggishly cupped her face, panting heavily. For once, he was covered in his own blood rather than the blood of his victims.

“You drugged me…” Y/N’s heart fell to her stomach as she realized what had happened. Cato had slipped sleeping pills into the water and while she was knocked out, he put her in a cave and went to hunt down the three other tributes. She furrowed her brows. “How could you? Cato… you could’ve died.”

He let out a quiet laugh. “Yeah… I know. That was kind of the point. While you were asleep, they revoked the two victors rule. There can only be one again.”

That was enough for tears to well up in Y/N’s eyes. “Don’t leave me… please.” She cried as she held Cato, her childhood friend and her first true crush. His blood stained her muddy clothes but she didn’t care. “Please…” She trailed off as Cato wheezed.

“The mutts did a good job on me.” He muttered, finding it harder to stay awake. Y/N’s eyes widened.

“No. Cato. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me here!” She immediately noticed how his pulse slowed down. “Stay awake, Cato! I can fix this! Please.”

Y/N had already come to terms that there could only be one victor but she had yet to accept that fact that she had to lose Cato to walk out.

“You can’t give up now… we came this far. We can sort something out.” Y/N uttered as she shook Cato in a fruitless attempt to convince him.

“I love you, Y/N.” He grasped her hand, squeezing it tightly. “I always have. Ever since we became friends. Ever since you were the first to find the courage to talk to me. I don’t know what I would have done with you.”

Y/N laughed as a sob bubbled up in her throat. “I love you too. If only your name wasn’t called. I could’ve won the games and come back to you.” She shakily sighed as she leaned down to kiss Cato’s cold lips. She placed her hand on his neck and when she felt no pulse, she pulled back in a panic.

“Cato?” She shook him once. Then again. “Cato?!” She repeated, this time louder. “No… no… no! Don’t leave me here! Cato!”

She screamed so loud that the sound echoed around the forest, scaring the birds and causing them to flee.

“Cato!”

Y/N walked out of the arena a free woman. Not quite since Snow would still have full control over her but she liked to think she was free to a certain extent.

The Capitol workers had tried to discard of the necklace she held so tightly in her left hand but she refused to let them take it away. It was the only remaining memory she had of Cato.

Anger swirled around in her heart like a monster, threatening to burst free and reign terror over anyone that came in contact with her.

Only now was Y/N realising why the victors never looked genuinely happy despite having everything they wanted. It was because Snow tore their deepest desires away, always holding it near but never within their reach.

Enobaria had wanted to be a mother.

Gloss wanted a peaceful life with his sister.

Cashmere wanted nothing more than to take care of the children in District One.

Brutus craved freedom from Snow’s cruel clutches.

And poor Y/N dreamt of becoming a bride but as she watched the light drift from Cato’s eyes, her wish was swept away with it.

Now, Snow had nothing to take away from her because the person she loved the most was already gone.

[pandorascripts]

hi! i was wondering if i could make a request for a katniss x fem reader imagine to safe and sound by taylor swift

safe and sound

pairing: katniss everdeen/reader.

cw: death, angst, description of body mutilation, bombs, major character death, gale. LOL.

note: I wanted to make this a cute little fix where Katniss sings the reader to sleep and then heads off to fight Snow, but I was like fuck it let’s kill r. ALSO! MY FIRST KATNISS REQUEST! THANK U!!!

based on Safe & Sound (Taylor’s Version). some lyrics used.

—-;—-;—-;—-;—-;—-;—-;—-;—-;—-;—-

As Katniss watches the explosions take lives and hope, her eyes catch something for a moment— a bright gleam in the dissipating dust. 

Her feet drag her along the road, tears pricking her eyes. Dead bodies lay scattered across the ground, some missing arms or legs. Katniss stumbles upon a woman, her arms wrapped around a little girl in a yellow jacket— the girl she had seen just moments before, breathing and alive. She chokes back her sob, refusing to let herself be any more somber than she already is. Katniss has to be strong for the cameras and her so-called army. She has to show Snow he doesn’t have an affect on her. 

As she walks around more; dodging bodies of all shapes and sizes— mainly smaller figures, she trips on something hard. A rough cough comes from where she had kicked and Katniss looks down. The idea of a probable survivor makes her fill with hope, but it’s quickly snatched away from her when she sees who it is. 

“Hey, Kat,” you mumble out, exhaustion getting the better of you. 

For a moment Katniss can only stand there, shakily breathing in horror at your fucked up state. There’s a large amount of blood coming from your torso, half of your head covered in it too. Dust sticks to your cracked lips, large, watery eyes looking up at her. 

Katniss sits down, adjusting you off the floor and into her lap so she can hold you and apply pressure. She knows it won’t help, there’s too much damage, but the obvious knowledge doesn’t deter her. 

“You were supposed to be farther back. Why?” she asks, taking a break every few seconds to control her shaky tone. 

Your hand lifts from the ground, a hand that’s no doubt fractured or broken, and holds onto Katniss’ forearm. You give her a light squeeze, a rough cough breaking the silence. 

“I wanted to—“ you hack up again, a little blood staining your lips red, “wanted to help.”

Katniss can’t say anything in the fear she’ll break down. She wants to be strong. Not for the cameras, not for Snow, not for her unwanted army— she wants to be strong for you. You’re dying, and Katniss can’t do anything about it. 

“You did. You did help.”

You nod weakly in her arms, your eyes watching the sunset in front of you. You don’t wanna go, you don’t know what happens when you die. Is heaven really real? If so, did you make the requirements? What if you didn’t? Surely your sacrifice would make up for it? Maybe you’d go to Valhalla, or maybe there was just nothing. Maybe after death you were only greeted by nothingness. With that horrific thought you tighten your grip on Katniss and take a deep breath. It comes out a harsh wheeze and your lungs sting from the effort. 

“Will you sing?” you ask her, a tight cough coming out after. 

Katniss’ other hand has gone to stroking your hair, moving the dried-up pieces away from your sticky forehead. “Yeah.”

You eyes look back to the sunset, Katniss’ soft voice singing in the background. 

“I remember tears streaming down your face when I said I’ll never let you go.”

Her soft voice starts to put you at ease, no doubt with the help of her featherlight touch. The sunset looks beautiful from where you’re laying. If you took out the immense amount of pain you’re in and the conditions of which this is happening, you could almost pretend that it was a date. Like one of those dates way back when you were just two lowly girls in district twelve— fighting and hunting for meals. You didn’t have a family, both of your parents died in the mines, but Katniss took you in. She taught you how to trap, and kill, and skin— Katniss saved you. 

“Thank you, Kat—Katniss,” you spitter out, coughs becoming more violent and frequent the longer you speak. 

Her singing stops and you feel a light, hesitant kiss on your head. 

Katniss goes back to singing, each word getting more cracked and breathy. “Just close your eyes,” she sings, “the sun is going down.”

You eyes flicker close, Katniss’ soothing voice fading in and out. 

“Come morning light, you and I will be safe and sound.”

The pain has stopped now, replaced by a peace as your body begins to shut down. 

“No one can hu—“

Katniss stops abruptly, you chest no longer moving up and down. Everything that she’s been withholding shatters, than dam of tears bursting through and clogging her vision. She presses her head against yours, gasping. “Please,” she whispers, barely coherent through her chocked sobs. “No, no, no.”

Now that you’re gone, Katniss tightens her hold on you, the watery squelch buried beneath her broken sobs. Her face is puffy and red by the time the rests of the troops make it to her, each and every one of them takes off their hat. Katniss doesn’t look up to see it, her eyes shut tight as they all stoop to one knee.

Katniss continues crying for God knows how long, despair and grief filling her body more than the blood that fuels it. 

Katniss doesn’t start screaming until a rebel tries to pick her up, her kicks and shouts not deterring him. Even as she bangs against his chest, is heaved onto his shoulder, she doesn’t relent. Your lifeless body starts getting farther, and father, and farther, and farther until it’s no longer in Katniss’ sight. 

Her voice is raw and husky from screaming, lungs crying out to get a proper breath. Katniss is only filled with rage when she’s set down, Gale’s face blurring into view. 

“You fucker!” she hollers, smacking his cheek. 

He turns slightly, wiping his face from where Katniss had angrily spat, still indifferent to her behavior. 

“Go get some sleep, Katniss.” He walks off, leaving her in all of her thoughts. 

Katniss won’t be able to sleep tonight. In fact, she doesn’t think she would call it exaggeration if she believed she’d never sleep another night. 

[heliads]

heyyy! i saw your requests are open and i was wondering if you could write a katniss x platonic!reader fic, specifically fem!reader if you’re comfortable with that, if not that’s ok! one where reader was the victor of the 73rd game at 15 from district 4, so she’s the same age as katniss, and she volunteers for the quarter quell. katniss and the reader become friends in the arena and when they get to district 13, she and katniss become closer when coping with the capture of loved ones in the capitol (reader has a younger sister there). just in general, the two share small stories about their lives and loved ones, maybe the reader braids katniss’ hair because she did it with her sister (katniss needs more female friends). i’m sorry if this is long, i have a lot of ideas, thank you and i hope you have a lovely day!

your request has been bullet pointed as my exams are starting xoxo

masterlist

You really had thought that winning the seventy-third Hunger Games would make your life easier

In theory, it was supposed to– you would live in Victor’s Village, your name would never again be entered into the Reaping–

But then both of those guarantees were swiftly taken away during the third Quarter Quell, and suddenly nothing was safe anymore, least of all you

You’d have allies when you went back into the Arena, at least

As a District Four Victor, you could absolutely count on Finnick, especially after you volunteered to save Annie from this awful fate

And, as it turns out, you can rely on Katniss Everdeen

The two of you bonded during training, and being flung into the Arena only strengthened your relationship

Katniss is a naturally quiet girl, but you’ve come to value peace after your second round of Hunger Games

She’s a good friend, which is a startling positive in the world of death matches and Capitol manipulation

After you’re both recovered to District Thirteen, the two of you rely on each other more and more

Katniss misses Peeta, and you’re still trying to patch Finnick together while he’s missing Annie

The two of you train together a lot to pass the time, but your favorite way to speed up the hours is your quiet time together

Slowly, you let your guards down enough to relate small stories about your childhoods in the districts

Katniss tells you about Prim, and keeping her safe; the spray of green leaves above her as she walked through the forest; the precise warmth of the Mellark bakery whenever she passed it on the street

You talk about the salt breezes of Four; the burn of rope against your hands, diving into cool water on a brisk morning and learning how to warm yourself again through the exertion of swimming

You braid her hair and joke that you’ll have to be a suitable replacement for the scores of Capitol beauticians that used to be after you like hunting dogs

Katniss laughs (a strange, rough sound, you get the feeling she’s not used to it) and tells you that she’d take you over the clinical treatment of the stylists any day

Wars are long and cold, and when you’re not bored of hiding, you’re in fear of dying

In between the exhaustion and paranoia, sickness and danger, you’ll have a true friend in Katniss

That, more than anything, tells you what victory is like, and makes you want to fight for it even more

hunger games tag list: @w1shes43, @ilovexavierthrope

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[ilguna]

☼ comfort (Katniss Everdeen) ☼

summary; when Greasy Sae's unable to take care of Katniss, you volunteer to step in for the day, expecting Katniss to ignore your presence.

warnings; swearing, death mention, murder mention, the usual.

wc; 3k

–

The moment you step foot into Victor’s Village, it feels like a wet blanket is thrown over your head. The weight of the air here is unbearable, and you stop walking a few steps in, trying to get used to the feeling before you even think about continuing any further.

You’re not entirely sure what you expected when you agreed to come here for Greasy Sae, but you weren’t expecting to see a barren neighborhood without a single trace of color. The grass is dead, it might as well be dirt. The concrete fountain is dry and cracked. And the houses are grey and black, if you didn’t know any better, you think you’d be walking into a funeral home.

All the times you were told about Victor’s Village, you couldn’t help but to picture a paradise, because that’s what they advertise it as. You win the Hunger Games, you get a nice neighborhood, with bright green grass and flowers lining the sidewalk in front of the houses. You’ve pictures white houses, or even the colorful ones that they show in the Capitol.

It should not look like this.

If any of the victors of Twelve are expected to make a speedy recovery, then that means they need to be in an environment that inspires that idea. A nice garden out front could act as an excuse to get out of the house, sit on the grass and read, have people over—anything.

You’re almost surprised that the volunteers that are rebuilding the district didn’t start here first, since it’s such a small project. It’d be so easy to spread seeds, plant flowers, and call someone to fix the fountain. You suppose that they’d rather focus on jobs, farms, and getting houses built and whatnot for families. If it were you that were in charge, you’d start with the reason why they’re able to work freely in the first place.

The truth is that none of you would be here if it weren’t for the sacrifices that Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch made.

You let out a breath, rolling your shoulders slightly, before continuing around the fountain, off to the right. Katniss’ house is the first one, perfectly preserved from the war.

You go up the few steps onto the porch, adjusting the handle of the basket in the elbow of your arm. You recite the vague instructions that Sae gave you before she had to leave. She told you to knock on the front door to alert Katniss that you’re coming in, but not to expect her to answer. The door should be unlocked.

You knock a few times, pausing briefly, and then reach for the handle to open the door.

Immediately, you’re hit with a smell.

You go back a step, turning your face to the open air behind you, trying to ease the pained look off of your face. It’s a mix of smells, the primary one being rotten food. You wonder if any of them bothered to help her clean what was left in here, or thought of doing it. Surely not Haymitch, because having his own struggles across the street. If Katniss has to be taken care of, then shouldn’t have either. The only person that would’ve been able to is Sae.

You shake your head, going inside of the house anyway, reminding yourself that you’ll get used to the smell as time goes on. You slip out of your boots to leave next to the door, watching as a few bits of snow fall off the bottom and land on the hardwood floor. 

You shut the front door, cutting off the breeze from chilling you any further. You take your time navigating your way to the living room, passing by a staircase and a hallway with several rooms. You catch a glimpse of the fireplace first, and find that it is lit, but the flames aren’t very high.

Katniss has herself positioned so that the back of her chair is to the corner of the room, making it impossible for anyone to sneak up on her, giving her full visibility of the room and the only entrance and exit. The fireplace is to the right, which is why she’s turned in that direction, trying to suck up all the warmth that emits from it.

When Sae was talking to you, she told you that the fire is a pain in the ass to get started, but sometimes Katniss has enough energy to do it herself before she comes to cook breakfast.

Even though the entire house is dark, curtains pulled shut to hide the winter light, Katniss manages to sense your presence. Her eyes snap up from the floor, lifting her head. In the next second, she’s on her feet.

You stop moving, “Sae couldn’t make it today, she had to make plans last minute for her granddaughter. She asked me to come instead.”

She doesn’t move from where she’s standing for a minute, eyeing you up and down, deciding if your story is real. She must figure that it’s not worth the fight, because she slowly sits back down in her chair, but doesn’t return back to her relaxed state from before.

“I’m (Y/n).” You tell her.

You know who Katniss is, for obvious reasons, but also because you both frequented the Hob. While she went to sell what she caught, you wandered around as an extra help to the busier stalls, catching thieves and making little to nothing in payment. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than the alternative.

There’s also the fact that you went to the same school that she did, as well. The two of you weren’t in the same groups, of course. She either kept around Gale or to herself. You had your own friends, the few you could make.

Katniss doesn’t respond, Sae warned you about this, so you’re not all that concerned about it. You head into the kitchen, where the smell seems to worsen the further you go inside. There’s a part of you telling you to open the fridge, despite knowing full well that the smell is coming from there.

You set the basket onto the counter carefully, pulling the top cloth off, and folding it neatly. You then reach inside for the second cloth, thinner and smaller in size. It’s slightly damp from the steam coming off of the muffins, they weren’t able to cool properly before you left. It’s all you could do last minute after Sae told you that she liked baked goods. She was never specific about what type, though. 

You could always cook her, that’s what Sae does. Only, this is the first time being inside of Katniss’ house, the first time that you’re officially meeting her, too. Sae tried to tell you to make yourself at home, but it feels impossible when you don’t know where to start. 

It was better than showing up empty handed, because you came late. 

There’s three types of muffins inside of the basket, two of each, because you couldn’t guess which one Katniss would like better. You pull one of each variety out—a chocolate chip, a blueberry, and a banana nut. You manage to go through three cabinets before you finally find where the plates are.

When you go back to the living room, Katniss seems to have managed to get some of the tension out of her body. You watch her eyebrows twitch together slightly. You can’t imagine she’s thrilled with you being here instead of Sae. Sae’s familiar, she traded with her in the Hob all the time, and she’s the one that’s been taking care of Katniss.

“I made muffins.” You tell her, as if it’s not obvious. You set the plate on the coffee table, and then take a seat across from her on the couch. The heat from the fire begins to eat away at the goosebumps on your arms. “There’s two of each, I’m not sure which you’d like more.”

She doesn’t move, you lean back against the cushions, looking around the room, finding a thick layer of dust at the corner table. You press your lips together, because it’s similar to the state outside. It’s cold and depressing in here. You can’t imagine there’s much healing going on. 

Katniss reaches forward, taking the chocolate chip muffin. You make an effort to try not to watch her eat, because that has a tendency to put people off. You play with your fingers, wondering exactly how long it would take for you to clean this place from top to bottom, if it’d even make her feel better.

Of course, you’re not stupid enough to believe that it would magically clear her of all the feelings she has about her life. She’s been through a lot in the past three years, volunteering for the Hunger Games twice, killing people, losing Peeta, being the face of the rebellion, getting Peeta back, only to find out that he’s not really hers anymore. She lost several more of her friends, her sister, and her mom won’t come back here, either.

Sae tells you that Katniss hasn’t showered since she got here, that’s why she tries not to sit too close. There’s letters that you noticed, piled up on the dining room table. And Sae tells you that Katniss lets the Head Doctor call her the same time every week, trying to get a progress update on her, but she never answers the phone.

Cleaning her house wouldn’t fix any of her problems, or come close to doing it. You remember what it was like, though, being in that position. When you sat at home for two weeks, unable to pull yourself out of bed after your mom died, leaving you to take care of everything.

A small gesture can go a long way.

Katniss eats all three muffins, leaving the wrappers on the plate to make it easy to clean up.

“Are you still hungry?” You ask, watching her shake her head.

You take the plate, heading to the kitchen to throw the paper away. The sink is empty of dishes when you get to it. Sae told you everything should be caught up for the most part. All you’d have to do is come in and cook, and come back at dinner to do it all again. 

After setting the plate into the sink, already deciding that you’ll do it later, with the rest of the dishes you’ll end up with, you head back to the basket. You drop the cover cloth back inside, spreading it over the tops of the muffins. You press your lips together, this is the part where you’re supposed to leave.

You have to try, at the very least. You head over to the living room, Katniss doesn’t look up from where she stares, hands in her lap.

“Katniss?” You call, her eyes flicker to you in the doorway. “I know Sae normally leaves, but I wouldn’t mind sticking around. We could go for a walk, draw a bath, bake?”

She stares at you wordlessly, shaking her head.

“A book, game, puzzle?”

There’s no answer, she turns her body away from you, ending the conversation with that one move. You watch her for a few seconds, not entirely surprised by her behavior. This is exactly what you were expecting to receive, anyway. 

Unfortunately for her, you’ve still got more questions to ask.

“That’s fine. I do need to know what you’d like to have for dinner, though. I don’t want to cook you something that you don’t like.” You say, no response. “Anything you could possibly want, Katniss. From here, from the Capitol, maybe something from another district you tried on the tour?”

Silence.

You suck in a breath, thinking, “How about lamb stew?” You ask, gauging her reaction. It works, her eyes find your face again. “And I think I remember Haymitch mentioning cheese buns.”

Katniss narrows her eyes, face twisted. You can’t tell if this is a good expression or not. If she’s mad that you’ve somehow managed to figure out what her favorite meal is, or the fact that the cheese buns that you’re referring to are Peeta’s specialty.

“You can’t.” She finally says.

“Can’t what?” You challenge.

“Replicate either of those.” Her tone is matter-of-fact, “You’ve never been to the Capitol, and I doubt you’ve ever had the chance to buy one of Peeta’s cheese buns. It won’t turn out right. Why bother?”

You let out a laugh, “Is that right?”

She shrugs, “Am I wrong?”

“I guess we’ll find out tonight, won’t we?” You ask.

—

Honestly, there was a second while you were in the middle of making the stew where you had yourself convinced that you weren’t going to make it. You have the handwritten recipe for it, with all the instructions on how to cook on the back, but the further you got, the more complicated it would get.

You knew that the Capitol was outrageous with their ingredients. You just weren’t expecting for them to throw a little bit of everything they could possibly think of into the recipe. They had to have done it to make sure that the taste would be impossible to bring back into the districts by the victors. It truly is an evil thing to do.

And you admire them for it. 

It’s a good thing that you’ve never gotten a recipe wrong in your life, and now that the sanctions are gone between the districts and the Capitol, it means that all ingredients are fair game. It wasn’t easy by any means to track down the lamb and the specially dried plums, but you have your ways for a reason, and your own pantry full of brand new foods you’ve been dying to try.

You carefully ladle the stew into a bowl you brought from home. You think Ksatniss’ dishes are nice, they don’t have that same polished look. As for you, if there’s one habit that your parents successfully instilled on you, it’s a nice appearance for dinner, even if there’s nothing on the place. 

You slide a spoon into the bowl, before grabbing the plate that has Peeta’s cheese bun on it. You’re going to admit it now, you think you would’ve done his recipe better if you had more practice. He’s been a baker his whole life, he’s got an advantage on you there.

“Okay, Katniss.” You say, coming out of the kitchen, carrying her portion of the food. 

She seems more awake now than she did this morning, she’s been open to conversation, too. It’s something to report back to Sae, even if it’s not a lot.

“It smells good.” She murmurs, adjusting in her chair.

“Everything smells good when you’re hungry.” You set it down on the table. “You can’t say anything about the presentation, because I’ve never seen how they serve their stew.”

A smile hints at the corner of her lips, “Anything else?”

“You have to tell the truth.”

You go back into the kitchen, grabbing your bowl and plate, meeting her back in the living room. You find her picking apart the cheese bun first, placing a piece of it in her mouth.

“Sae tells me that she doesn’t cook you lunch, is that your preference, or is it because you wake up late?” You ask.

Katniss raises a shoulder before dropping it. “She doesn’t want to spend her entire day here, she’s got her granddaughter to watch.”

“That’s right.” You take a bite out of the cheese bun. You managed to get the softness of it down perfectly. Katniss wouldn’t tell you the other qualities of what Peeta’s is like, besides the look of it.

It may or may not have led to you cheating a little bit. You went and asked Haymitch what it’s like, but you might as well not have because he was drinking when you walked in the house. You thought Katniss’ house is bad—it’s a fucking nightmare in there. Your persistence won over, he told you that the cheese melts on top and it’s usually a little greasy.

“I didn’t see you in District Thirteen.” Katniss says, lifting the bowl to rest on her lap. “Were you with Greasy Sae in the kitchen?”

“Um, part of the time, yeah.” You move the hair out of your face. “They kept me in the hospital for a couple weeks because of the burns from the fire. When they finally cleared me, Sae vouched and they brought me to work with her.”

“Did you like it there?”

You let out a noise, “Did you? I mean, it was nice for a while, because of the meals and stuff, but not being able to go outside drove me up the wall. For a second, I thought we were going to be stuck down there forever.”

Katniss tilts her head, “That’s why I got out.”

She brings the spoon to her mouth, you watch as her face twists, and then she smiles. Her eyes meet yours, you know immediately that you’ve replicated the dish. That’s all you need to know.

“How do you do it?” She asks, taking another spoonful.

“I’m just that good.” You laugh, “And what about the cheese bun?”

She makes a face, “Close. It’s good, though.”

“I tried.” You pick off more bread, “Would you care if I came at lunch everyday to cook for you?”

She shakes her head, “Don’t you have something better to do?”

“I could probably think of a few things, but I would love to use you as a taster for the Capitol cookbook I got last month.” You sit back. “Only if you want me to, I don’t want to overstep.”

She smiles briefly, “I don’t mind, (Y/n).”

[swiftieblyth]

Odair’s Miracle

Warnings- pregnant reader, husband!finnick, typical hunger games let me know what else:)

Y/N was sitting on the couch, hands running along her seven month bump as Finnick was scattering around the house trying to baby proof it. You didn’t really need to have it baby proofed quit yet, but it’s Finnick’s way of distracting himself from the Quoter Quell announcement that’s about to come.

“Finnick!” Y/N called.

“Has it started?” He asked, running in.

“No.” Y/N breathed, hands on her bump, tears in her eyes.

Finnick softened as he saw the tears. “Hey, don’t cry.” He let out, walking over and getting on his knees in front of her. “Tell me what’s wrong love.”

“I’m scared.” Y/N let out. “We don’t know what Snow’s gonna do. Finn, neither of us can go back. I can’t handle that.”

“I know. I know.” He let out grabbing her hands in his, giving them a light squeeze. “Who said anything about us going back?”

“Finny, why else would you be baby proofing the house?”

“You know me so well,” Finnick sighed, looking down.

“I’m scared Finn.”

“I know honey,” Finnick let out, getting up and sitting down next to you. “Come on. Let’s cuddle.”

“I’m so scared Finny,” Y/N let out as Finnick wrapped her arms around her. “I just want to raise our baby in peace.”

“ai know honey, I know.” Finnick cooed, wrapping his arms under her bump and holding it up. She let out a light moan that made him smile. “That feel good my love?”

“Never stop.” She smiled.

“Of course Mama.”

“How do you always know how to put a smile on my face?”

“Cause you’re my girl.” He let out, kissing her head.

Music chimed from the TV, indicating it was about to start. You and Finnick both held your breathes as President Snow appeared on the screen.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Citizens or Panem. This is the 75 year of the Hunger Games. When the charter of the Games was written, it was dedicated that every 25 years there would be a quarter Quell. To make fresh for each new generation the memory of those killed by the rebellion against the Capital. The Quarter Quell was reserved for the games of special significance. On the 25 anniversary, as a reminder that two rebels died for every Capital citizen, each year District was required to send twice the Tributes to the arena. And now, on the 75 anniversary of the rebellion, we honor our third Quarter Quell, as bestowed to us, by the signers of the Treaty of Treason. ‘As a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capital, on this 3rd Quarter Quell Games, the male and female tributes are to be reaped.’ Are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each District.”

That was it. You just felt your heart stop. Your whole world was destroying all around you. “No!” You cried, hands on your bump. “NO!”

“Honey, I need you to breathe.” Finnick let out, voice shaky as he tried not to cry. “Breathe.”

“Finny, our baby!”

“I know. I know, honey. But the baby needs you to breathe. Can you do that for me and the baby Mama?”

“I can’t go back.”

“You won’t. No one will let you.” He explained. “Honey, you know someone will volunteer if your name gets picked. No one will send you in pregnant.”

“Finny, you can’t go back there.”

“Honey, if they call my name, I have no choice.”

“But our baby.”

“Our baby will be fine.”

“I won’t be. I can’t do this without you Finny.”

“Honey,” Finnick sighed, wiping a tear away. “If I go back, and I don’t make it, you’re going to have to do it without me.”

🔱🔱🔱

“The male tribute from district 4 is Finnick Odair!”

Finnick bit down his tears, as he smiled his charming smile. Y/N felt her heart brake as her husband got called to go back, she didn’t even notice the tears falling down her face.

“And the female tribute from district 4 is Y/N L/N-Odair!”

Everyone gasped when Y/N’s name was called, tears coming to Finnick’s eyes. Mags quickly raised her hand and pointed for her to go. Y/N broke down into a sob as Mags hugged her.

Finnick watched, tears slowly falling down his cheeks as Mags hugged his crying, pregnant wife. Knowing that he couldn’t wrap her up in a hug.

🔱🔱🔱

Finnick had convinced everyone to let Y/N go to the capital with him and Mags so Y/N wouldn’t be left alone. Though she would have been safe with his sister, Annie, back at their beach house in 4, Finnick knew Y/N wouldn’t be able to handle not being with him in the Capital.

Y/N was currently sitting on the train on the way to the capital, crying in the arms of her loving husband.

“It’s okay, honey.” Finnick breathed, kissing her head. “I’m right here.”

“But, Finny, you could die.”

“We don’t know that honey. Let me worry about it. You don’t need to be worrying right now. Our baby doesn’t need their Mommy worrying about their Daddy.”

“How could I not worry about you though?” Y/N asked, resting her head on his chest as she sat in his lap.

“Please don’t. For me please don’t.”

“But I love you so much.”

“I know honey. And I love you too. Which is why I dont want you worrying. To keep you and the baby healthy.”

“Please don’t die on me.” Y/N cried, voice breaking as she shook in his arms.

Finnick’s heart broke as he held her close to him. Kissing her head he said, “I know honey. I know. I’m going to do my best.”

🔱🔱🔱

Y/N was standing while Finnick and Mags was getting ready to mount up. The baby was kicking as Y/N subconsciously ran her hand along her bump, deep in thought.

“Honey,” Finnick called, kissing her head as he wrapped his arms around her from behind. “We’ve talked about this. What’s on that pretty little mind of yours honey?”

“You know what,” Y/N let out, turning to looked at him. “Us. The baby. I’m just so scared.”

“I know honey, I know. But everything’s going to be okay, yeah?”

“How can you say that?” Y/N asked, looking up at him. Little did she know that her husband just signed up to be part of the rebel group.

“Just trust me on this, okay?” He asked, wiping a tear. “You trust me right?” She nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought pretty girl.” He smiled kissing her head. “Now don’t worry, okay.”

“Okay.” Y/N breathed. “I like this look on you.”

“Yeah?” Finnick smiled, looking down at his wife.

“Yeah.” She smiled, placing a hand on his bare chest. “I like seeing your abbs. They’re hot.”

“Thank you my love.” Finnick smiled, putting a hand on her bump, feeling the baby as they frantically moved, frowning a bit. “Baby’s really active arnt they?”

“Yeah. They’re nervous about their daddy.”

Finnick bit down and kissed them bump. “Hey, baby. It’s Daddy. I’m going to be okay. But I need you to do me a favor. I need you to take care of your Mommy for me while I’m gone. I won’t be gone for long, but take care of her while I am, okay? Can you do that for me sweetness?” Finnick smiled, and got back up. “Go sit with Mags and get some rest, okay honey? I need to go talk to some people.”

“Okay.”

🔱🔱🔱

“Katniss,” Finnick called, walking up to her.

“Hello, Finnick.”

“Do you want a sugar cube? I mean, it’s supposed to be for the horses, but… I mean, who cares about them, right? They got years to eat sugar, whereas you and I… Well, if we see something sweet, we better grab it.”

“No thanks. But I would love to borrow that outfit someday. I bet your wife likes it.”

“She does.” Finnick smiled, at the mention of his wife. “You look pretty terrifying in that getup. What happened to the pretty little girl dresses?”

“I outgrew them.”

“You certainly did. Shame about this Quell thing. Now, you… You could’ve made it out like a bandit in the Capitol. Jewels, money, anything you wanted.”

“Well, I don’t like jewels and I have more money than I need, so… What did you do with all your wealth, anyway?”

“I haven’t dealt in anything as common as money in years.”

“Then how do people pay for the pleasure of your company?”

“With secrets. What about you, Girl on Fire? Any secrets worth my time?”

“I’m an open book. Everybody always seems to know my secrets before I know them myself.”

“Unfortunately, I think that’s true.” Finnick let out.

“Finnick,” Y/N let out, waddling a little as she made her way to Finnick. “Don’t torment this sweet girl. She’s gone through enough.”

“I’m not honey,” Finnick explained, wrapping an arm around her. “Just chatting. What about you? I thought I told you to rest?”

“I missed you.”

Finnick hummed and smiled down at her. “Honey, this is Katniss Everdeen, Katniss, this is my wife, Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Y/N smiled, sticking out her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” Katniss smiled, shaking her hand. “Congratulations on the baby.”

“Thank you. I just wish it was in better times.”

“Yes, well, you’re not due for another two months so we have time.” Finnick let out.

[readingforaneternity]

Been thinking about writing a oneshot of Katniss going feral when she thinks people are trying to harm Peeta.

I saw a post weeks ago that said that Finnick and the rest of the rebels were trying so hard to keep Peeta alive (not bc of Haymitch’s promise to Katniss) but bc they knew she would go absolutely crazy and take out as many people before she got killed.

I want to write an au where Peeta is in D13 with Katniss and the others, but Coin is being a weirdo and Katniss just looses it. Or she has a nightmare and Peeta isn’t with her and no one can calm her down but him. Idk, it’s been floating around my mind.

I need to write it so it’ll stop haunting me. 😭

[fyreflys]

Could you write Peeta giving Katniss a long and thorough bath after he plants the primroses in canon? Because she’s such a little hawt mess when he comes home <3

OOOOOOOOOOO YES YES YES

Birdbath

(Peeta’s POV) - Halcyon, The Paper Kites

Warning: slightly suggestive (they bathe together) - mostly just fluff, no smut

Please ignore any mistakes I sped-ran this & did not proof read whooops

When they put him on a train back to 12, he’d felt a million things and nothing all at once. He’d closed his eyes, and tried not to think about the other times he’d taken this exact route. What each meant. What happened after.

Seeing district 12 in absolute ruins shook him to his core. For a moment he forgot about the torture in the capital, and the hijacking, and Katniss. For a moment he stood amongst ashes and felt grief that ripped him so strong he fell to his knees.

Somehow, Haymitch was there to pull him back from the rubble of himself. There to drag him to victors village, and shove a glass of water in his face. Once a mentor, always a mentor. Peeta would be impressed with Haymitch’s ability to pull himself out of his slum long enough to greet him upon arrival, but he’s too busy trembling near the fireplace.

He still feels like ghost most days, drifting through the world. Losing chunks of time, and finding himself in places he didn’t remember going.

Planting primroses in victors village ends up being one of those times.

“Peeta?”

She looked worse for wear than he was expecting. When he’d asked about her, they told him she was doing okay. But as he stared up at her, hands covered in dirt, she looked worse than “okay”. More like barely hanging on. Lucky to still be standing on her own two feet.

She clutched him a tight hug, and Peeta felt the tensions in his shoulders roll off. Warmth. That’s what Katniss is.

How they got from outside to here, in the bathroom, is a little unclear. Something about him asking her when she showered last, after they made into the house, turkey tossed in the fridge to wait for dinner. Something about her shrugging her shoulders.

He’s not sure how he convinced her to this. Tears were probably involved. Yes. Tears were involved. She broke down crying. Something about Prim. He carried her up the stairs. Right. Yes.

And now…now she’s in underwear and a tank top, and he’s running a bath. It’s quiet. He’s hesitant to touch her, and she takes his hand. And he’s less hesitant.

“Do you…want me to help?” He asks softly.

She doesn’t really answer. Instead she wipes her tears, and steps into the shower, still holding his hand. She stares down at the faucet. He puts in the plug after it’s warm. She squeezes his hand.

“Thank you.” She whispers.

“Of course.” I love you.

Real or not real?

That’s Real. He knows that’s real. Right?

She slips off her underwear and takes a seat in the tub. She peels off her tank top. He swallows, eyes flickering across olive skin. Cheeks hot as he desperately tries to advert his attention elsewhere. He pours in some soap and watches as bubbles foam at Katniss’s toes. He shuffles to sit behind the tub so he’s looking at the back of her head.

He delicately undoes her braid, combing fingers through her hair. It’s not nearly as clean and shiny as usual. He finds a cup to scoop water into her hair, slowly drenching it. He shuts off the water once he decides it’s high enough, and then grabs shampoo. He lathers it into her locks. Her shoulders relax, head tilting back as he massages her scalp. He scratches, softly, and she hums. He’s gentle as he scoops and pours water to rinse out her hair. It’s clear she hasn’t bathed in a while. So he decides to scrub in another round of shampoo. Katniss leans into his touch, and he can’t help but feel warm at how domestic this moment is.

He rinses her hair again, and then gently smooths in conditioner. Katniss catches his hand as his fingers comb through her hair.

“What?” He whispers.

She glances back at him, grey eyes dull as they flicker over him. She reaches to tug at the sleeve of his t-shirt, nibbling at her lip. He feels heat race across his cheeks.

“Katniss-“

“I missed you.”

She says it like he’s back back. As if nothing ever happened. He’s still not sure he’s himself anymore. But they’ve always been good at pretending. Granted, he wasn’t ever really pretending. But he can try. Fake it till you make it.

He offers a small smile. “Yeah.” Is all he can really offer. Because he’s swayed back and forth between trying to remember what she means to him, and being slammed with an overwhelming sense of hatred. Its a been a while since anything close to that has hit him. But to say he’s missed Katniss doesn’t feel entirely right. Not when he’s still not sure how to feel about himself, let alone her. But he supposes being in front of her again…helps, in a way. Seeing her like this, bare to the world and vulnerable, helps his mind confirm that she is in fact not the monster he was brainwashed to believe. So maybe…maybe its something like relief.

She tugs at his sleeve again, wet fingers slipping up his arm to ghost over his bicep. She looks spacey, as if stuck in thought for a moment. He reaches to take her hand, squeezing gently.

And then grey eyes snap back to him. And she licks her lip.

“You’re dirty.” She whispers, reaching to wipe his cheek.

He glances down at his white t-shirt. And she’s right. He is dirty, from wiping his hands off on his shirt.

“And wet.” She adds on.

And he’s that too. Wet from washing her hair.

“Yeah.”

Her thumb brushes over his wrist. And she has a look on her face. And he’s not sure if he would have been able to read it a year or so ago, or if this is another one of those instances where she is an enigma. Because he’s never been able to read her well. Or…he thinks he hasn’t.

“You should…wash off.” She says. “You’re already wet.”

It takes a moment for his mind to wrap around that one. And then he’s bright red.

“You- you mean like- join you?”

She doesn’t give him any indication of yes or no. Just stares at the lip of the tub.

His heart picks up in his chest. And he decides, fuck it. He pulls off his shirt. Her eyes immediately flicker towards his chest.

“Yeah. Join me.” She whispers.

And he takes in a shaky breath. Oh.

She scoots forward in the tub to give him room to slide in behind her. And he knows he’s bright red.

He slips off his pants. Hesitates at his boxers.

“Katniss…you’re sure…”

“Just bathe with me. Please.” She pleads softly, like this is all the fight she has left in her.

She’s naked. He very well could be naked too.

“I…should I-“

“Do you usually take a bath in your underwear?” She asks exasperatedly, turning around to look up at him. Her eyes stray slightly. Which makes his cheeks burn.

“…No.”

She hums, and shifts in the tub, turning back around. He slips off his boxers. Tosses them on their pile of clothes. He takes a seat on the lip of the tub to take off his leg. And then he shifts to swing himself in behind her.

The water is warm as he sinks in. It feels really good. Katniss glances at him, and then she leans back against him. His breath catches at her touch. She pries one of his hands off the lip of the tub, where he hadn’t realized he was keeping a death grip. And she holds it, squeezing his knuckles as she lays against him, between his legs.

He’s certain he’s bright red. His pulse is racing, heart hammering in his chest. And he really hopes he doesn’t get too excited from this. Or at the very least, he hopes Katniss can’t tell.

This is far from what he was expecting today. In fact, today’s been a lot like a roller coaster of emotions. Up, down, sideways, and now this.

They sit in silence for a long moment of time. Katniss traces patterns across his wrist and up his palm, slowly melting into his chest. He closes his eyes, and wills his heart to please stop hammering in his chest. It doesn’t really work.

Katniss sniffles, and he shifts to look at her. He frowns when he sees tears running down her cheeks. And that gets his mind off the fact that they’re both naked and pressed together in a tub.

“Hey- what- what’s wrong?” He reaches to cup her cheek.

She swallows, shaking her head.

“I just- I miss my sister.” She whispers, and then suddenly a sob croaks out of her lips.

He hushes her, thumbs swiping her cheeks. She turns her face into his neck, and all he can do is wrap arms around her and squeeze. She hiccups as she cries, and he presses a kiss to her temple.

“I know, Katniss, I know.”

He doesn’t, really. He lost his family too. Didn’t really have time to grieve them. But he wasn’t as close with his brothers as Katniss was with her sister. His family kind of abandoned him after his first games. And he never really got past that. But Prim was always there for Katniss. And Katniss was always there for her. So he can’t really imagine what that’s like. But he’s sure it hurts. A lot.

He rubs his thumb against her ribs, squeezing her close. And she melts into him, sniffling as her cries soften. He whispers against her hair. Promises and assurances he knows he can’t keep, but he can’t stand to see her cry. And it works. Soon she’s just red eyed and exhausted. He presses a kiss to her forehead.

“Let’s finish getting you cleaned up, yeah?”

She nods.

He finds a washcloth sitting on a ledge within reach. He dunks it in the water, and wrings it out. He has her grab him the soap bar, which he lathers into the washcloth. Katniss closes her eyes as he gently runs the rag down her arms, scrubbing softly. He pushes her up to sit so he can get her back, across her shoulders and down her spine. He adds more soap. And then he scrubs under her arms, and down her sides. She leans back into him when he runs it across her collar bones. And then he pauses.

“You can touch me.” She breathes, softly. “I trust you.”

He takes a deep breath. He knows that means a lot, coming from Katniss. Or…somewhere in his mind he knows that’s meant to mean something.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to. It’s that he doesn’t think he should. This is a fragile moment. Neither of them are ready for anything like this. Not right now. Not when they’re both so damaged and still trying to heal.

“Peeta,” she says, “You’re thinking too much.”

And he supposes he is, thinking a lot. Sometimes he thinks it would be easier if just couldn’t think.

It doesn’t mean anything. This is just…them taking care of each other. And he’s happy with that. That’s really all he can handle right now. So this is okay.

His hand dips below the water to carefully clean her chest. Her head falls back on his shoulder, cheeks momentarily burning red. And he’s overcome with the desire to kiss her. She looks so gorgeous, leaned into him, blissful and vulnerable in a way she’s never been with him before. And maybe this is exactly what he needs.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, pausing his scrubbing of her tummy.

She blinks, grey eyes meeting his. Her gaze flickers down to his lips. And she nods.

“Yeah.”

So he does. Meets her lips. It’s an awkward angle. And he realizes the last time they kissed was down in the transfer, when she was trying to pull him out of a hijack episode.

“Stay with me”

“Always”

When he pulls away the words leave his lips without his control.

“Is this real?”

She pauses, grey eyes searching his face. A hand comes up to cup his cheek, stroking his jaw.

“Yes, this is real.” She whispers.

Good. He needs this to be real. Really needs this moment to be real.

She kisses him again. Shorter, this time. But the meaning still stands. It still gives him butterflies, and he suddenly feels giddy.

She smiles softly at him as he scrubs down her hips to her thighs. And he decides that maybe he should stop there.

“Katniss.”

She hums.

“I think you should do the rest.”

She blinks slowly. And she sighs.

“Yeah.”

She takes the cloth from him. Instead he goes about rinsing the remaining conditioner from her hair as she cleans. And he can’t help himself as he peppers kisses to her shoulders. She relaxes back against him when she’s done.

“I don’t want to get out.” She whispers.

He snakes a hand around her stomach to hold her closer.

“Me neither.”

Silence. Warmth. His heart feels overwhelmingly full.

He laces his fingers with hers, smiling as he pulls her hand out of the water.

“Your fingers are pruning. I think that means it’s time to get out.”

She groans.

“We can cuddle in bed.” He says softly.

She huffs. “Fine.”

She pulls the drain, and he leans forward wither her to rest his chin on her shoulder. She curls up, and he curls around her, the air freezing in comparison to the warm water of the tub. With a little coaxing, he convinces her to turn on the shower head to rinse them off of suds. She helps him stand on one leg, and rinses him off. He holds onto her for balance.

She bundles up in a towel, and the digs through the cabinet for an extra. He takes a seat on the lip of the tub, catching the towel she throws his way. He swings his legs over to dry his nub and pull on his prosthetic, and then he stands to make his way to his bedroom. He pulls on fresh clothes. Something soft and comfy. He’s in the process of finishing pulling on sweats when hands snake around him. He jumps, spinning to yank away.

Just Katniss. Katniss is good. Katniss isn’t going to hurt you.

“I’m sorry-“ she starts.

He takes a deep breath. Counts in his head, like his therapist has been trying to get him to do. And then finally opens his eyes.

She looks scared, arms hugging around herself. He sighs, and steps forward to crush her in a hug.

“You can’t sneak up on me like that.” He whispers, “it triggers me.”

“I’m sorry-“

“It’s okay. I know.”

And he does, know. He mind feels the clearest it’s been in weeks. And he’s not sure why. But it’s probably something to do with her.

They sway in place as they hug, and he takes deep breaths to try and calm himself. Her hands are warm on his back.

“Help me brush my hair?” She whispers after a while.

He smiles. “Yeah. Will you keep it down? It’s pretty.”

She hums. “I’ll consider it.”

So they do. They gently brush out Katniss’s hair. Peeta regals her with the coping strategies he’s been working on since they last saw each other. Katniss fills him in on how things in district 12 have been. Which is, admittedly, not a lot.

They curl in on her bed, her head against his chest, fully melted into him. She starts to cry again, and he wipes her tears. And hugs her close. And let’s her cry. And he cries too.

Later he will find himself on the kitchen floor, bread rolls scattered around him, with Katniss in his lap. He’ll have blanked out while baking her cheese rolls. A hijack attack that he should have seen coming with how up and down this day has been. And Katniss will coax him out of it. She’ll tell him where he is. Assure him that it’s okay he dropped the rolls.

And he won’t believe her entirely. But he’ll want to trust her. So he will.

They’ll clean up, and move to the couch. Where they’ll cuddle, and Peeta will fully come back to reality. And he’ll be relieved that he’s finally here.

But for right now, Katniss is in his arms, warm and cozy and safe. And that’s exactly what he needs.