#live laugh love finnick odair

[tremarctoss]

now we live beside the pool where everything is good

After the Revolution, four is Finnick’s luckiest number.

Rating: Explicit

ao3 link: HERE

Finnick Odair x Original Female Character, kinda porn with plot, idk?

Finnick is angry. No, not angry, he’s furious. Not only he has to accept another year of Hunger Games and Johanna - of all the people - will be running them together with Enobaria. No, not only that. He also has to attend the hearing of his prep team. All the members working with One and Two were executed publicly already. Those from Three were long dead.

He barely has any time to ponder if and how he can save anyone. Hardly sleeps that night, counting the pros and cons of every member of his team. Enobarbus is the closest to him, the only person working with him all the time and never sugar-coating what’s about to happen. He even tried to warn him when he was about to get sold for the first time. But with over twenty years of experience as a stylist, he is as good as dead. 

Helvina is the only annoying of them all. Always talking about wanting to paint his body sea blue and green and marking him with tattoos. The only reason why he spares her any thought is because she has several children that will end up at the orphanage for sure. He gives up thinking about her when they tell him her husband died defending Snow during the bombing of the Capitol. 

Vibiana is the oldest and the illness is claiming her already. Killing her is mercy. Making her live the remaining months of her short life while they are low on every kind of medicine is just an ill-treatment of a dying person.

Tacita is the last and he almost does not recognize her. She is younger than him, only working as the hairdresser since the star-crossed lovers won their Games. He remembers how long her blonde hair was, how she had to gather it to not sit down on it. Now it is ending just under her chin. How her skin was glowing, dusted with freckles, now it looks almost gray. How her eyes were laughing at all the dumb things he said when she was massaging his scalp, but now they do not even look in his direction. He cannot guess what kind of blue they are today, that’s how much she is focused on not looking at anyone. Someone has hit her across the face and Finnick clasps his hands into fists until he feels his short nails digging into the skin. It was completely unnecessary for sure, she cannot even talk back.

- And we found her not wanting to give up those earrings. Real pearls and diamonds, not those fake things produced at One. - The man sitting in the middle of the long table says. - She could not afford them with her hairdresser payment. So she clearly must have stolen them.

Finnick recognizes them immediately. He remembers the way she blushed when he took out her ugly glass pink earrings out and put those on her instead. How she kissed his hands after. How she wore them all the time during the Quarter Quell while trying to hide her tears. How she tried to smile the night before he got sent back to the arena. How she sobbed when he came to her and kissed her hands himself and told her to take care of herself.

- Those are from me. I thought they would keep her safer than an engagement ring. - Finnick lies. - Thought she could sell them to keep herself safe after the Games.

- Do you still want to marry her? - It’s Coin who asks him. Her voice is bored but there's also a hint of curiosity there. - You never told anyone about her, did you?

Finnick plays his most innocent face.

- You said my prep team was murdered by Snow. - he reminds her.

-----

There’s no ceremony and no fancy outfits and no extravagant dinner. A man comes to his room in the evening with papers and he signs them immediately, all four copies. Tatiana’s hair is still wet from the shower. She is so exhausted that he has to carry her from the bedroom and help her sit down in front of the man. 

- Do you want to marry Finnick Odair? - The man asks and gets irritated when she does not answer. - The contract is not valid until I hear you answer aloud.

- Then I think you should leave. - Finnick does not try to hide his own anger. - Because she cannot speak, never in her life did.

The man gets red in the face, stammers and writes the same note on all four papers saying “the woman is mute but the consent is obvious” before passing them to the girl so she can sign them herself. Leaves without a look in her direction and only shakes Finnick's hand. 

He tries to make her look at him but gives up when she flinches when he touches her chin. The mark on her face is even redder now, mocking him in the dim light.

-----

It takes him four weeks of feeding her until she can eat on her own without getting sick. He starts with creamy soups and gently brings a spoon to her lips. The first day she swallows only a few before shaking her head and covering herself with a blanket. He tries to make her eat a little bit more but she just takes his palm and kisses it on the inside. He gives up, wraps his arms around her and watches her every breath when she sleeps that night. Promises himself to feed her one spoon more every day when she wakes up.

Another four weeks until she does not look away from him. He is still watching her fall asleep and wake up and naming all the shades of the brown and gold her freckles turn now. Reads her aloud Hemingway and Tolkien and Le Guin and Tokarczuk and every book people in his District hid before Peacekeepers so they wouldn’t burn them. She usually watches him when he reads but turns away the moment he stops and looks at her. But when he says “Now is no time to think of what you do not have. Think of what you can do with that there is.” she blushes crimson and withstands his gaze. He kisses her then, a small peck to her forehead, another on the tip of her nose and two more, each for one of the corners of her mouth. He keeps doing this every morning and night. 

His nightmares stop.

Further four weeks until she takes his hand and points her finger at the door so he can take her outside and show her the Ocean. It’s cold and gray but not windy and he does not catch her when she kneels in the wet sand. Only when her body shakes with silent sobs he realizes he was so focused on having her with him and getting her to feel better he never asked about her family or other things that could be a danger for the both of them. He sits down behind her, not caring how wet his pants get, not caring how cold he is until he gets the whole story out of her. Her fingers, with her nails still raw-bitten, skin terribly dry, shake when she tells him her family died in the bombings and it’s only her now.

- Us. - Finnick tells her kissing the bitten skin around her fingernails. - You have me now. We’re facing the world together.

She kisses him then, her body trembling with nervous energy when she presses her mouth against his forehead, nose and corners of his lips like he did before. 

He takes her for a walk every day after, making sure to talk as much as he can about the Ocean and his District, about the people she may meet and what to expect. He reads the books aloud when they sit in the sand, her body always in his lap, her arms around his middle, her breath warming his throat. He starts dreaming about her naked underneath him again.

When she comes to him after the next four weeks he already knows what will happen. He does not help her undress herself, instead sits on the sofa to watch her take off her dress and takes a deep breath himself when she reveals to be wearing nothing underneath it. The earrings he gave her are the only things she has on and he marvels for a moment how stunning she looks dressed in them. Her hair is grazing her shoulders and he’s glad. He hopes she will grow them long again.

He kisses her deeply then, his hands caressing her whole body gently until she kisses one of his hands and brings it in between her legs. She is so wet he has to remind himself to take it slowly and not scare her. 

- I’m going to carry you to our bedroom now. - He tells her. - Lay on my back on the bed and put you on top of me and use my fingers to make you come. Twice I think. I want to know that it feels good for you and that you know how to make me stop when something doesn't feel right. 

He uses one of his fingers to spread her folds and move it around her clit. She stands up on her tip-toes before bringing her body back down on his finger and sliding her cunt up and down on it. Finnick kneels in front of her and licks her quickly, hoping for a small taste. Moans loudly and pushes his finger in between her folds for another second. He undresses himself and strokes his cock several times before hugging her and pressing his member against her stomach.

- I think my fingers once and my mouth twice after all. - He says holding himself even closer to her. - And this is how far my cock will end up being inside you. It may be a little bit much for the first time so I want you to tap my hand or arm twice when you want me to stop, alright? 

She blushes crimson red from her forehead to her breasts but gets on her toes again to kiss him deeply. Finnick starts wondering where his control is coming from now because pinning her against the wall and sliding inside her heat is everything he’s thinking about. He wraps his right arm under her ass, squeezing one of her buttocks, and carries her upstairs. She starts playing with his hair and he cannot stop the moan when he remembers how she was doing that back in the Capitol.

- I had to masturbate several times after you did that. - He tells her, sitting them both down, her in his lap. - The night before the Games I was thinking about coming into your room and introducing my mouth to your count.

He almost comes on the spot when she kisses him sweetly and signs to him that she would allow him to do that. She kisses him again and he groans inside her mouth when she wraps her hand around his cock.

- Like this. - He tells her and wraps his own hand around hers. - A little bit firmer is what I like. Look at me now sweetheart. I want to see your eyes.

Her blush spreads when he comes on her stomach. He almost pushes her on her back and buries his mouth in her cunt when she takes his hand and starts licking it clean. Finnick takes the closest pillow and wipes her stomach with it. He sends it flying across the room and it hits the wall. He will worry about possible stains on the paint later.

She tries to run away when he lays down and positions her cunt above his face. He has to use some of his strength to keep her in place.

- It’s easier for me to watch you like that. - He tells her. - And I want to be sure I’m not forcing you into anything you don’t like.

He starts with her left knee, leaving small pecks there. He licks his way up and bites lightly where her thigh and hips meet, does the same to her second leg before pressing his tongue to her clit. She makes a sound then, something close to whimpering so he looks up to make sure she’s not in pain. There are tears in the corners of her eyes but she has a hand on her breast and a small smile on her lips so he starts sucking on her clit until she makes those tiny sounds again and has to put her hands on the wall to keep herself up. He doesn't close his eyes and doesn't stop sucking until her hips start moving against his face. 

It's different from what he's used to, to people loudly saying what they expected him to do, but he's good at reading everyone, still has to be in order to survive. He does not stop licking her when she comes. Instead, he spreads her legs even more and brings her cunt even closer to his mouth. She does not try to run away this time, instead shyly moves herself up and down his face, shaking when she falls apart.

He rolls her over slowly, making sure her head does not hit the bed frame. He wipes his mouth with his hand but she sucks his tongue into her mouth when he kisses her. He spreads her again, making sure to inform her about his every move. He slides one finger into her cunt first and she's so wet that the second and even third come in easily. He pumps them in and out quickly while telling her how good she feels around his fingers. How wet she is, how he thought so much about doing this, how he cannot wait to bury his cock in her and make her body shake and fall apart. 

He has to put his hand on her stomach to stop her from trying to get away when she's close. Her body almost snaps in half and she lightly kicks him accidentally in his ribs. She tries to make herself smaller when she calms down and barely has strength to move her fingers in apology after.

- Don't. - he tells her, marking her body with his teeth. He starts with the skin under her left breast. - I don't mind. I enjoy watching you fall apart.

He licks and bites until he feels her cunt clutching at his fingers again. Only then he removes them and rolls the condom onto his cock. She doesn’t try to stop him but nods her consent and kisses his hands all the time while he slides slowly into her. 

- We will get mirrors. On the ceiling and every wall. - he tells her when he finally bottoms out. - so it’s easier for me to watch you and make sure I am not hurting you. 

She blushes even more, he never knew it was possible for someone to do that. But she also nods and wraps her legs around him and brings him even closer so he stops holding back and just fucks her until she scratches him a little. She tries to apologize but he just pins her hand next to her head telling her he doesn't mind.

Because he truly doesn't, he knows where he is and who he is with and that's fine.

-----

She starts cutting and styling his hair after that. It is never as short as during his time in the Capitol and he makes sure to tell her several times that he adores it longer. Loves her for never trying to make him look like the man people in the Panem lusted over. Puts his mouth on her cunt to show her just how much it means to him. Tries to make love to her at least once daily.

- I don't remember sex being so nice and fulfilling for me ever. - He says when she asks if he's not tired. - If I could I would have made love to you all the time.

She just sighs before kneeling in between his legs and unzipping his fly. She kisses his stomach when he tries to stop her and wraps her fingers around his cock before taking him into her mouth. He almost comes on the spot when she looks into his eyes.

- I love you, - He tells her and she smiles with her mouth full and brings one of her hands under her skirt. - so much.

-----

He loves adoring her body with love bites and makes sure there’s at least one visible when she goes shopping in the town so no one hits on her. There’s no point in him following her everywhere. He wants her to have her own space but also wants her to be safe. He gets her two trained dogs so she is never alone anywhere. They are taught to react to certain motions she makes with her hands and it fills him with joy when she giggles when one of them licks her face. 

Two cats come next. To keep her warm when he goes for a run in the early mornings. Those assholes try to keep him out of bed when he comes back and he has a lot of fur to remove from his clothes every day. They also grow so fat they don’t even try to come outside and lazily roll away when she buys or makes new toys to make them move. He is sure they are getting that big on purpose. Their goal is surely to suffocate him. Sometimes when he sleeps with his mouth open one of them lays on his face until he has no choice but to throw them and the dogs out of the room. Of course he uses it as an excuse to lay his own face in between his wife’s breasts after that. 

-----

It takes only four days for Coin to send him back during the first new Games because everyone is sick of him talking about his wife and how much he adores her. Should he buy that book for her? Will that necklace go with her skin tone? Will those cookies last the trip and taste great when he brings them to her? Is that silk scarf something she would wear or just a tacky present?

- You could bring her here. - Johanna tells him when he’s throwing his clothes back into his backpack. - Or to Seven. I think everyone would love to meet her.

- You can visit us and bring Annie with you. - He says back. - She is not going anywhere. Four is her home now.

She is shocked and scared when he comes back early. He needs several minutes to calm her down and explain that everything is alright. He got some more duties at his District after all.

- You will accompany me, alright? - She gives him a small nod and he cannot stop himself from pressing his mouth against her neck and marking her again. - Wear your hair up, okay? I want everyone to know you are only mine.

-----

He does not join the next war when Plutarch rises to power. He ignores all the four summons Coin sends his way and only comes with his wife to the Capitol when it's time for a new President to be sworn in. He spends all the time watching her intensely and barely paying any attention to people around them.

- I'm just thinking about all the things I could be doing to you instead. - He tells her when she raises her eyebrow at him. She just sighs and kisses his cheek quickly and squeezes his hand.

- I don't know how she puts up with you. - Johanna tells him.

- That's rich. - Finnick says stealing a strawberry from her plate. - Especially now that you even ended up having a wife.

She and Annie move from Seven to Four shortly after Finnick welcomes his first child.

[ Four is the number of anniversaries they celebrate before their first kid is born and four is the number of the children they will have. ]

[ Four is the number of breaths he will take before following his elderly wife into death. ]

[johannamason07]

Look at this innocent smile

He doesn't know he's about to drop Lynn Cohen

He doesn't know he's going to stab JenLaw and make the whole cast think there's a snake

Sam Claflin you clumsy sweetheart

[libertyybellls]

KISS IT OFF ME !

pairing; finnick odair x f!dist4!reader

summary; finnick can’t take his eyes off of you in any crowd- but he can take care of you, what’s new?

contains; FLUFF, established relationship, finnick is still pining for reader, alcohol consumption- but positively i guess, reader is anxious in the beginning, objectification by the capitol as per usual.

a/n: i hope im not misunderstood but when i put specific photos or outfits/hairs in the headers of my works that is not directly what i am picturing the reader as! its more-so the hairstyle, or the outfit- or simply the aesthetic of the picture. not the race, hair nor body type. ur all cutie pies. ok anyways onto the fic kiss kiss.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

“well would you look at that!” your stylist squeals in your ear, “from the moment you won your last games i have just been dying to design for you again and… here we are!” she ushers you to spin around.

she’d always been kind to you, perhaps less kind to your dignity- always wanting to flaunt you like a show pony- but nonetheless her support had always been there.

“it’s beautiful, thank you.” you smile small at her. so bittersweet, she was oh-so ecstatic to dress you up once more but to you- this meant less serenity to you. more agitation, more distress, more death.

it felt like a paradox, to be adorned in this sweet, innocent, baby pink before you’re sent away to a grim world once again- you’d already gone off on a tangent to finnick. you’d both sobbed solemnly about the cruelty of it all, how you would never be able to live in peace.

but finnick just wanted you both to have this one night, to indulge in the capitol before you were sent of to your deaths, obviously he would see the brighter side of thing- blabbering about plutarchs plan and how he only needs to protect you, katniss, and peeta until he can get you out of there.

sounds so very simple doesn’t it?

once you’d finished your interview you attended a party, a celebration for the third quarter quell. how ironic, what was there to celebrate?

you’d seen the food platters, the spiked drinks, and indulge you did.

your brain had been fuzzy by the time you’d escape the overbearing class of the capitol citizens, who wanted to know every detail of your life.

it was then- finnick had spotted you- so inebriated you’d genuinely laugh at something the woman next to you said.

feasibly being that she’d said something so pretentious you couldn’t help but tilt your head back in laughter. but nonetheless he admired.

he admired your dress, your smile, the way your eyes slightly disappeared when you laughed, the way your hair was laying down your back. he was simply under the spell of you.

it was then your eyes met his smitten ones, so love drunk- or possibly just drunk- that you’d excused yourself and made a beeline straight for him.

he’d encaptured you with warm arms, a leather corset-like article of clothing consumed his waist- followed by his white buttoned down that seemed to be unbuttoned.

you noticed the way his eyes consumed you- not like the others did. not like you were a piece of cake, not like you were something they had to have for the night, but someone who lit his chest alight.

“you look beautiful.” he murmurs into your hair, his hands around your waist.

“i hardly feel that way- im scared, i think.”

he shook his head, pulling you from his warm embrace much to your dismay. “don’t be. you’re with me right now.” finnicks plush lips lay atop your forehead now.

you laugh as he continues to peck your face, giggles leaving your lips.”so beautiful.”

it was only when you nearly toppled over your unnecessarily long pumps that he took not of your consumption.

“so head over heels it seems you’ve had a little to much to drink. what do you say i get you back to your room now? hm?” he straightens you back up. “run you a bath?”

you let out a muffled mm into his chest, your other hand placed on the side of his chest holding you steady. “love you s’much finn.”

it was his turn to laugh now, there was no mockery, no heinous act behind it, just you and finnick. “i know baby.”

-

[lunamadhatter99]

All for the cameras

Chapter 1

Finnnick Odair x Fem!reader

So... here's the first chapter of my Finnick series. I hope you'll like it and comment if you want to be tagged in the next chapters.

I warn you, it's a slow burn with LOTS of tension. But I think it's going to be worth it in the end. ❤️❤️❤️

Chapter summary: Y/n is the Capitol's Princess. Everybody in the Capitol loves her... unfortunately for her. This first chapter is a little introduction about her role as a "support mentor".

Chapter warnsings: mention of rape, prostitution, and... it's the Hunger Games... what can you expect.

The Victory Tour is probably the one thing I like about the Hunger Games. The attention of the Capitol isn't directly at me, but at the Victor in question, especially the pervs' attention.

Everyone thinks that being President Snow's protégé is like being Capitol's Princess, well... that's just what the cameras catch, but it really isn't. I am no different from someone living in the districts.

I am a slave like anyone else.

Even though I won't have to deal with the creeps at the Capitol during the tour, I still have a job to do, I can't exactly let out a sigh of relief.

This tour is probably the hardest one I've ever had to experience. Turning a hunter into an actress for the Capitol is no easy job.

Katnis has many skills... many, but pretending to be in love with someone isn't her best. Unfortunately, her life, anyone's life, actually depends on it.

Snow made it clear to me.

I arrive in district 12 with Effie and the rest of the crew, ready to help the two victors make everything as believable as possible.

I decided to go to Peeta first, while Effie and Cinna went to Katniss.

"Yes?" Peeta calls from behind the door.

"It's Y/n," I answer.

He immediately opens the door to let me and his stylist in and pulls me in a big hug.

"I'm happy to see you," he says, almost relieved.

"Well, it's my job, pretty boy," I pull away with a smile, "how do you feel today?"

He takes a moment to answer.

"I'm okay, I guess, nervous too,"

"You'll be fine, trust me. You're a natural." I try to lighten the mood. He does chuckle, but I think it's not to make me feel bad. "Did Haymitch tell you what to expect, or did he offer a drink?"

"A bit of both," he actually chuckles this time, "more of the latter, but yeah."

"Good," I let out a small laugh too, "I guess a good thing about your situation is that maybe you two can help each other out."

"If she stopped treating me like a wounded puppy..." he bitterly says, shrugging.

"Yeah, well, try talk to her. Your situation is already hard as it is, dealing with it on your own... it's suicide."

He nods, so I decide to let his stylist work and go see how Katniss is doing.

"Hey there," I say once I enter the room Katniss is getting ready in.

"Hi," she says.

"How are you?" I ask, sitting on a chair.

"I've been better," she forces a smile in my direction.

"I figured," I send her a sympathetic smile in return.

I look around the studio, the atmosphere is quite cold despite the luxury, we are still in 12 after all. My eyes stop suddenly on the desk, that was pushed a little out of the way to make more room.

"That's..." I start, my throat feels tight all of a sudden, "That's a pretty rose."

I notice Katniss tensing at the observation.

Confirming my suspicion.

Snow's been here.

"Yeah," she flatly says. She turns to look at me, with a look that seems suspicious... or cautious, more likely.

I respond with a sympathetic look. Hopefully, she will understand I'm just as tense as her. She seems to, because she half smiles at me.

"It's showtime," Effie cheers, walking in.

"Break a leg," I say, hugging myself as I watch her heading to the door.

I take a deep breath and decide I need a drink, and the only person who can help me is a certain victor.

I sneak out from the back and walk to Haymitch's house.

"Haymitch?" I call as I knock at his door.

"It's open," I hear his grumpy tone from the inside, so I let myself in and look around for Haymitch.

"Oh!" He calls from the kitchen, "it's the Princess herself! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Care to help a lady out? I need a drink,"

"Take whatever you want," he offers, taking a sip of his own drink.

I look around at the variety of bottles on display, finding my drink of choice. I take the whole bottle.

"You don't mind if I don't use a glass, do you?" I say, sitting down with him.

"Make yourself at home," he actually chuckles at that, and I soon follow after taking a big sip from the bottle.

This is what I like more about this tour, Haymitch's company. We can just sit in total silence and still be able to give each other comfort. He's one of the very few people who knows the truth behind the Princess facade, and I know about what happened to his family.

"Ready for the tour, princess?" He suddenly asks me.

"It's the only time I get to feel like my own person again, so... yeah, I'm ready," I answer with a bitter smile, "what about you?"

"It's gonna be hard for them," he simply says.

"I know," I deeply sigh, taking another big sip, "they need us... and we need them."

Haymitch just nods.

"Things are about to change," he says, almost solemnly, "better keep those eyes open."

I send him a questioning look to which he answers with a wink. Then, a knock on the door prevents him from elaborating if he even wanted to.

"Guess it's time to go," he announes, clapping his hands.

"Let the show begin," I take one last gulp before following him out and towards the train station with everyone else.

--------------

We're heading to the first stop of this journey, distric 11. I already know this particular stop is gonna be hard for my Victors, especially Katniss. I take notice of her quietness and the tension in her body as Effie keeps in rumbling about all the fabulous things this tour will provide.

"Fabulous food, fabulous wine, the massages, spa treatments." She explains, "I told them nothing but the best for my two victors. It all needs to be..."

"Fabulous?" Haymitch finishes for her with a hint of teasing in his voice, mimicking her demeanour. I try to hide my smile into my cup in tea.

"Exactly." Effie answer, not bothered by him, "Now, the schedule is a bit of a bear. 12 days, 12 districts. But it's mostly parties, celebrations, adoring fans to greet you at every stop along the way, and then wrap it up on the Capitol. All you need to do is give a few speeches, wave at the crowds, and enjoy your time in the spotlight. You've earned it."

Oh shit.

"What did you say?" Katniss, basically, demands.

Here we go.

"Katniss." Peeta calls, trying to calm her or make her drop the subject.

"I said, 'Enjoy it, Katniss, you've earned it.'" Effie repeats.

"By killing people." Katniss scoffs and stands up to leave, ignoring Effie's weak try at scolding her.

There's silence.

"Well, isn't this a good start?" I say, holding my hand out to Haymitch, who catches on and passes me a bottle of whiskey chuckling.

I ignore Effie's glare and pour some alcohol into my tea.

My eyes lock with Peeta's, so I take the opportunity to glance at the direction Katniss went to silently telling him to go check on her. He nods and gets up to follow Katniss.

Haymitch follows him with his eyes, then turns to me.

"Are you plotting something?" He asks.

"Not at all." I simply answer, "they need to stop avoiding each other like the plague when they're not on TV. It's better to pretend to be in love with a friend than a stranger."

He simply looks at me nodding, impressed.

Effie lets out an annoyed puff and walks away.

Once she's out of the carriage, I turn towards Haymitch.

"Anything to say about my eyes?" I ask, hinting at the conversation we had back at his house.

He simply smiles and pours some more alcohol into his glass.

"Just keep 'em open, princess," he says, "wide open, guard up."

I roll my eyes, "Alright, alright. I will. Anything else you wanna share?"

"Did you hear from a certain fisherman?" Haymitch asks, instead of answering my questions.

"I don't know what you're talking about. " I say shrugging, and I take a sip from my cup.

"Mh," he hums, "isn't he the first Victor you helped train?"

"Why all these questions?" I slightly snap.

"No reason. This is the first time we get to properly bond, don't wanna waste it,"

"You want to bond?" I let out an incredulous laugh, "why?"

"I just proclaimed myself your... father figure," he opens his arms to present himself.

"Okay..." I trail off, standing up, "Whatever you say,"

I start to walk off, too, shaking my head slightly laughing.

"Oh, c'mon!" I hear him yell and laugh.

I shake my head while I'm heading to my room to rest a bit before we arrive in district 11.

As I lay on the bed, my mind can't help but wander to said fisherman.

Finnick freaking Odair. Winner of the 65th Hunger Games.

That was my 4th time assisting the mentors in preparing the tributes for the games. At the time, Snow wanted the people to see me more involved in the making of the games since they 'love' me so much. The president saw this as an opportunity, I saw it as a punishment, having to help train tributes, some of them being my age only to see them get killed. Then the 65th Hunger Games came, and so did Finnick. We were the same age, bonding was inevitable, even though he was cautious... which was understandable, but we managed before he had to go into the arena.

When he won, I was the happiest I've ever been. Then when he came back he was changed, again, that's understandable, but he started to push me away... with no explanation.

Then we both turned 16. Then we were forced to be close again.

----------

A knock on the door pulled me away from my thoughts, Haymitch's voice warning me we had arrived in district 11, and it was time to go.

We get out of the train, expecting some people celebrating and stuff like that, but nothing of sort. Effie is quick to express her disapproval.

They lead us to a car and let us in, where Effie start to explain the situation to Katniss and Peeta.

"The mayor will make some introductory remarks. And then you just have to say a few words." She says, "it's customary, of course, to give a brief eulogy to the district's fallen Tributes. For 11, that's Thresh and Rue. Here are the speeches."

Effie hands some piece of paper for them to take, I see Katniss' expression falling even more at the mention of Rue, predictable, so Peeta offers to be the one doing the talking. Katniss' grateful face almost breaks my heart, I'm... sort of used to see children die in the games, she wasn't... worst of all, she built a friendship with her.

"You got this." I say to them both, Peeta sends me a kind smile, while Katniss nods and takes a deep breath.

We arrive at the Justice Building, where we all wait for the mayor to call the Victors out.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Victors of the 74th Hunger Games. Katnis Everdeen and Peeta Mellark!"

Once they are out, we get to see them through a screen.

"Thank you," Peeta says into the microphone, while Katnis is staring at something, I can imagine it's Rue's family. "We're honoured to be here with you today. And to be with the families of your fallen Tributes."

There's a long pause, Peeta glances at the cards in his hand and... put them down...

"He put down the cards." Effie gasps.

Haymitch tries to shush her, and she slightly snaps, "Why do I bother?"

I lock eyes with Cinna, who's standing next to me, we share a questioning look before looking back at the screen.

"Though they fought and lived with honour and dignity until the end... both Thresh and Rue were so young. But our lives aren't just measured in years. They're measured I the lives of the people we touch around us. For myself, for Katniss, we know that without Rue and without Thresh, we wouldn't be standing here today." He really is a natural. "So in recognition of that, knowing that it in no way can make up for your loss, we'd like to donate one month of our winnings to the families of the Tributes, every year, for the rest of out lives."

Oh, oh...

"Oh shit," Haymitch comments, and I bring a hand up to my open mouth shocked.

"Can he do that?" Cinna asks, though, I think he already knows the answer.

"He can't. But he did."

"Why doesn't he just stick to the cards?" Effie sighs.

Peeta than thanks the audience, looks at Katniss, and starts to walk back inside.

Katniss does just a few steps backwards, but she keeps staring at Rue's family.

Then, she gets closer to the microphone.

"Oh..."

"I just wanted to say I didn't know Thresh. I only spoke to him once. He could've killed me, but instead, he showed me mercy. That's a debt I'll never be able to repay." Then her eyes are back on Rue's family, " I did know Rue. She wasn't just my allay. She was my friend. I see her in the flowers that grow in the meadow by my house. I hear her in a Mockingjay song. I see her in my sister Prim. She was too young. Too gentle. And I couldn't save her. I'm sorry."

I feel my heart breaking at her words. She's right. She's too fucking right.

Before Katniss could add anything, there's a whistle coming from the crowd.

A very familiar one.

A man does the same salut Katnis did on the arena after Rue's death. Everyone in the crowd soon follows, and the Peacemakers are quick to weapon up and head towards the people, who can't do nothing but clamoring.

They're clearly pointing at the man who started it all.

As Katniss tries to get to him, to stop the Peacemakers, she is sized by two of them and forced back inside.

The man was dragged on the stage, the people are screaming, terrified. Before the doors can close we see one of the guards shoot and kill the man.

"Fuck!" I turn around, Cinna a gently rubs my back. I hear Katniss screaming and trashing around, I look back at them and see Haymitch gathering both Peeta and Katniss to follow him, he nods at mw to do the same and I do.

Once we are out of sight and ears Haymitch just snaps.

"You two have a very simple task." He scolds them, angry.

"I never meant for anyone to get killed," Katnis cries, "he has to know that."

"What are you talking about? Who has to know what?" Haymitch asks.

Snow...

"Snow. He came to see me. He's worried about rebellion in the districts. He thinks that they don't believe our love story," she explains, breathless.

I run my hand through my hair, frustrated.

"So he wants you to make them believe it? Does he thinks it will calm this shit down?" I ask and Katnis nods.

"You know, Katniss, you should told me that before I went put there, and tried to give these people the money." It's Peeta's turn to snap.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do. He threatened to kill my family." She explains.

"Well, I have family, too" He replies, almost annoyed at her, "Okay? People that I need to protect."

"What about them? Who protect them?" Haymitch pressures.

I shake my head, still shocked and still infuriated.

"Katniss, what were you thinking?" Haymitch keeps going.

"I was thinking about Rue. Haymitch, please... please, just help me get through this trip. Please just help us get through this." Katniss begs, crying even more.

"This trip? Girl, wake up." He snaps his fingers to emphasise his words, "this trip doesn't end when you get back home. You never get off this train. You two are mentors now. That means that every year, they're gonna drag you out, and broadcast the details of your romance. Every year, your private life becomes theirs. From now on, your job is to be a distraction so people forget what the real problems are." He explains perfectly the 'life of a victor', it's so true it's nauseating.

"So what do we do?" Peeta asks, already composed him.

"You're gonna smile," I say, "stick to the cards Effie put effort into. And be the happy, forever in love couple the Capitol thinks you are... you'll get used to it." I say the last part with a heavy heart, knowing they don't deserve it. No one does.

Haymitch brings Katniss is for a hug, trying to reassure her, I squeeze Peeta's arm.

"We'll help you."

Peeta gives me a grateful smile, then they both take a deep breath and we all head back down.

"Eyes open, princess." Haymitch whispers to me, gently patting my back. I, again, look at him confused and just keep on following everyone back to the train.

And sticked to the cards they did.

----------

I feel like I can't breathe, I'm constricted, I can't move.

I look up and see the blue-haired guy on top of me, he's probably enjoying my terrified expression, because he smirks, he shushes me as if he's dealing with a child. He thinks he's being sweet and reassuring, while he's the complete opposite.

I try to push him away, in vain. It's like moving a wall... yet he's not that much bigger...

"Sshh, sweetie... it's okay, I'll take care of you." He says, caging me in even more.

I attempt to move back, but he's faster, he opens my legs with his in one quick motion.

----------

I wake up, shaking and panting. My heart is beating so fast I'm sure it's going to explode. I shake my head.

"Just a nightmare, just a nightmare," I keep repeating to myself like a mantra.

I get up from the bed and head to the bathroom where I wash my face to wake me up more. I look at my reflection and again I repeat that it was just a nightmare.

I get dressed, I figure there's no point in going back to sleep, I don't think I would be able too, so I exit my room and head to the restaurant car where I find Haymitch. Not so surprising.

He looks up as soon as he hears me, his expression almost asleep, but when his eyes meet mine, his expression turns into a worried one.

I sadly smile at him as I sit next to him, the car is still quiet dark except for the dim light coming from a small lamp next to him.

"Who was it this time?" He asks, he's trying to not make it look like it bothers him, but I know he's worried.

"The general's son," I say monotonously.

"Aah," he sighs, "the one with blue hair?"

"Yep."

"The loyal one." He nods to himself.

"The very one, the first too." I sigh, leaning back in the armchair. "The asshole thinks that just because we 'lost it' together means he owns me."

"Was that his first time too?" I know he wants to laugh at him, but he keeps it too himself, this time.

"Yap. His father thought it was 'right about time' so he talked to Snow, who, oh so kindly, accepted. Next thing I know I'm treated like a present. Everytime he achieved something big, his dad paid for my company, every birthday too." I sigh again, more deeply, bouncing my leg anxiously. "When he got a job, I was with him. Every month."

Haymitch takes a deep breath and hands me a bottle, which I gladly accept taking a big swig from it. He then takes my hand and squeezes it reassuringly, then lets go.

"He got daddy's job."

"Oh yeah. He couldn't do anything without daddy's power," I scoff out a laugh, Haymitch does too.

We, then, keep silent until it's time for everybody to come I'm and have breakfast and get ready for the final stop.

The Capitol.

[mrsnancywheeler]

the lakes (2) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

previous chapter / next chapter

midnight rain

2.9k words

warnings: ANGST, fluff, mentions and allusions to mental illness, an elopement but not officially, terms of endearment, Finnick being cheesy af and also having a savior complex, reader also having a savior complex, allusions to death and violence, the reaping, sickeningly sweet but also heart wrenching things, cheesy writing, UNEDITED, no use of y/n, mild language

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Suddenly the day had arrived, technically you'd let yourself bleed into it. How could you rest when this could be the last time you lay in your soft sheets with him? When you'd never seen the sunrise and set over the glittering waters of District 4? You needed to indulge yourself with the smell of the salt air in the early morning, touch the cold kitchen counters and rest your feet on equally freezing hardwood floors. So you stared through the window to the glistening stars which shined above the ocean water letting the sparkle ingrain itself into the depths of your soul.

“Can we stop pretending to be asleep now?" His voice whispered, hot on your ear like the arm lazily laying across your side.

“Yeah." You allowed yourself to softly smile as you sat up. All of the things you wanted to enjoy you equally needed to be done with him. To walk hand and hand around the sandy beaches, for him to mindlessly tie knots as you searched through the rocks during low tide for the tiny creatures that would appear. “Should we fish for our breakfast?” You playfully rose your eyebrows.

"You hate fishing.” Finnick had a toothy grin, you were humoring him, his passions and he loved that about you, but what that really meant made him resent it.

“Yeah." You shrugged, kissing him sweetly before unwrapping yourself from the blankets every so slowly. This might be the last time you could comfortably do that. “Let's get ready." So the two of you did so in each other's comforting silence, a routine that was so natural. He always took longer to get dressed, so you began with the very last part before exiting the room. Making the bed.

Carefully laying each blanket in what Finnick had long ago deemed to be the correct order and you could feel his eyes on you. He was so particular that usually he would do it himself, but he just stood in the closet door frame staring.

“Staring is rude, where have your manners gone?” You teased as you continued diligently preparing the bed for whenever it may provide its comforts again. When he didn't shoot back a reply right away you turned to look at him.

“Hard to remember when you look so ethereal in the moonlight, angel." Finnick approached, lightly grazing your chin with fingertips. “That pillow-" He pointed at the one clad in its silk pillowcase. “Is mine.” With such a playful and bossy look in his eyes you couldn't help but throw it at him.

“Fine, I didn't want it anyways, but this one is mine.” You grabbed the softest one in the bunch from his side of the bed and dragged it over to you.

"You little minx.” He scoffed, grabbing your arms as you held the pillow. You wrapped your arms tightly around it and he pulled you onto the bed trying to pry it from you as you erupted into laughter. "You end up lying on me anyways, it's my poor head that needs to be protected.” You tried to tear yourself from his arms wrestling against the tight grips of your arms, thrashing across the bed. “Messing up the bed now too." He clicked his tongue condescendingly at you, "At least I was already going to have to remake it.”

You gasped and let go of the pillow to lightly hit his shoulder which he used to successfully retrieve it. " You dick!” He laughed and stood.

"Just go sit by the window and look pretty, my love. It's not your fault you can't get it right.” You rolled your eyes lovingly as he helped you up.

"You're right, it's your fault for being so picky about it.” He hummed in agreement and gave a peck to your lips before gesturing towards the window adjacent to the chair.

“Let me admire you more as I do the work, angel.” So you sat as he went through the steps of his bed making routine. He did it all with a care that cut into your heart. Tenderly observing the precision he had for each act, it was as if he needed the bed to be such a haven to lay in that no imperfection could taint it. “We should get married." Finnick said abruptly after laying the final pillow down.

You were stunned into a stupor, staring back at him as the glow of the moon glittered on the bronze of his skin. “What?"

“Let's go get married." He knelt down in front of you hands on your knees

A shocked laugh left your lips, “Finnick, that's not how that works."

He grinned, “I don't care." His eyes felt like they were etching themselves into your heart. “We don't need some paper to tell the world, let it just be us, and the sand, and the waves, and the mist. And when this is all over we can go do it officially with the big white wedding or whatever else you could want, but right now let's just be one. Have the ocean bind our souls, angel. I wanna be yours forever.”

Desperation, that's what it was. He wanted to be yours so he could know that if he died the sea could tell the tales of your great love, the tides would echo your sweet nothings. But you couldn't find it in you to care about the deeper motivations, it could help heal his soul, help heal yours so you nodded softly and pressed your lips to his.

“Okay." His smile was as bright as the sunlight and picked you up in his arms. You could have fallen asleep in the warmth of his arms as he diligently carried you to the waters near your home. Passionately kissing you as he laid your bare feet on the wet sand. He looked at you expectantly, for what you couldn't tell so you teased him. “What? I know you're impatient, but don't I at least get a ring?"

You stepped away closer to the waters as you scanned the rocks. Each starfish and sea anemone, you'd miss the bliss they brought whenever you were out early enough.

“Here." You nearly jumped when he reached beside you to pick up a piece of washed up seaweed. “You deserve more, when this is over I'll get you the most gorgeous ring to show everyone what you mean to me."

“This is good enough for me, Finnick. I'm happy with this." You tore some of the seaweed off to fashion one for him as well, you envied how delicately his hands worked to make yours.

“You're happy that it's just past twilight and I've carried you to the beach so we can bind our souls together without even bothering to get a marriage license on the day of the reaping? And I couldn't even bother to bring a real ring?" He teased.

"I'm happy to be with you, to love you when it comes down to it, the other stuff doesn't really matter.” You grinned, “Let's just get married."

"I promise that for all of eternity, past when the sun last rises and when it lasts sets. Far beyond where the last star may shed its light on us or the time when the last leaf falls. With no regard for what is to come that I will be one with you. To have and to hold, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish so that not even death will part our bond and my love.” He delicately slipped the seaweed ring on your freezing finger, kissing your hand as he parted from your fingers.

“I promise that for every drop of water in the ocean, each grain of sand in the earth, each gust of wind, my love will increase boundlessly for you. That we will be one with each other when all thrives through its decay. No tribulation shall part my heart from beating with yours, my tears from falling with yours, nor my lips from syncing with yours. To have and to hold, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish so not even the hands of death will crack the strength of us as one, as we are one from dawn to dusk.” The breeze and mist blessing you with its droplets made you feel so light as you lay your ring on his finger as well.

You didn't question Finnick as he began to weave the remainder of the seaweed around your connected arms.

“May we be connected through the lakes, the sea, the rivers, the springs, the cricks, the ponds, the mist, and the fog with each creature within to let us be one in the world, what you feel, so shall I, what we need the other will provide, and let our devotion be smiled upon."

He kissed you, his honey sweet lips tinged with the salt of the ocean air and you consumed each other in every sense.

"I love you Finnick, so much so I'll refrain from telling people how sentimental you are."

“Only for you, Mrs. Odair." He kissed you again.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You'd obtained so many hours through the lost sleep to spend forgetting about what the day would inevitably do that the both of you could lose yourselves in being unbearably in love with one another. Neverending promises for the future, cuddling on the couch, dancing in the sand to fill the hours until the elephant in the room had to be acknowledged.

The two of you had wound down to the cushions of your couch to hold one another. The talking had ceased so you could simply listen to his breathing, his soothing heartbeat. Oh, if you could do this forever, to never move.

“We have to leave soon." The croaky way the sentence left your throat instantly wanted to send you into a frenzy of tears.

“What if we don't?" He asks, stroking your cheek.

“They'll kill us."

“They're already doing that."

No, technically if neither of you were picked you could both go home in peace, but as the time between the announcement and now had begun, whispers of rebellion and some type of plan had strengthened. Something Finnick wouldn't give up in fighting for even if he had to volunteer and you wouldn't be left here without him. Even if you did, that meant some other friend would have to go die in your place which would be a death within itself.

You reluctantly sat up and had no trust in your voices stability to repeat the need to go, maybe a death here would be better.

“Angel, you know my plan. I know you're unhappy with it-"

“I'm not unhappy with it, I understand you want to help because you are so caring and kind-"

“You're not selfish for being unhappy with me going back, your feelings aren't selfish." His hands cradled your face, “And that's not what I was saying. I just, please, tell me what you plan to do."

You sighed, “I don't know Finnick. I have no idea."

“Then stay, Mags will volunteer if it's your name and don't volunteer for anyone else. If I win then I can come back to you and we can really be married, legally as well as with the planet." He said eagerly, searching your eyes for affirmation.

"Your plans don't end with one victor coming home, so I can't say that. I want you to come home to me, but I want to be with you through it all, to fight your fights, to stand where you stand, not be left behind. But I don't know what I'm going to do yet."

He exhaled harshly through his nose, “You're going to stay here for me." Finnick stood up and grabbed you both pairs of shoes taking no further comment, but no matter what he insisted you'd swore to nothing of the sort.

Quietly the two of you walked towards the square of District 4, your head laying on the comfort of his shoulder. Each of your arms tucked within the others and rings keeping you both grounded within each other when you eventually had to part to different sides of the stage.

“I love you."

“Don't say that in a tone like you'll never see me again."

“I might not for a while, unless you go as a mentor."

“You don't get to make either of those decisions." You felt like you were being forced to tear him from what he assumed would happen to remind him of your own will and it broke your heart when you saw fear flash in the depths of his sea-green eyes.

“Angel-"

“I love you, Finnick." Your voice was filled with conviction as you kissed him with fervor before walking the opposite direction, trying not to look back as what you were sure was his worried, loving, angry face. Why couldn't you just be the girl who waited for him to come back? Why did you need to fight with him? But your soul begged you to do it, so you listened to the call.

Soon enough your breath was hitched even if you knew Finnick would force the same outcome to happen no matter which name was called from the male tributes. As if you needed any more surprises this year your escort had decided to swap up the gendered order of pulling the names. Proclaiming how entertaining Quarter Quells should be in every aspect. Which was probably the least entertaining thing you'd ever heard.

“Finnick Odair." The sickly sweet voice rang out in the microphone and your heart dropped even if you'd been prepared for him to get himself in the games regardless. Your throat felt tight and your fingernails dug into your palms as he smiled for the cameras watching intently.

“And now, for the girls. All such entertaining victors!” She beamed for the viewers, it disgusted you how happy she was for this.

You could feel your heartbeat ricocheting through your head as the tapping of her heels walked to the bowl of four paper slips. Your eyes gazed over the women besides you. Mags in her solemn sereneness, she deserved to pass surrounded by those she loved in her home, and then poor, shaking Annie who wasn't as good at hiding what you pushed down, the girl labeled as going ‘crazy’ by the Capitol, and Ondine who seemed like she had clocked out of her own brain. She stared forward so numbly it appeared as if she'd resigned herself to her death, an image that would haunt you every hour if she did die.

“Annie Cresta."

Your head looked at her instantly, she'd let out a quick sob as she began walking forward. Each step is unsteady and slow. You shot your head towards Finnick, you shook his head, eyes screaming at you to do nothing. To try to mentor but do nothing more. But Annie’s sniffles brought you back to her, she deserved so much more, you were certain her psyche would break before she'd even reached the interviews. As she stepped to pass by you you couldn't hold the adrenaline in your body back.

“I volunteer as tribute!" You shouted shakily, stepping in front of her to stop her from going further.

“No-" You heard Finnick accidentally slip as he looked at you so despairingly, but it didn't undo what you'd said which you felt more confident in as Annie began crying. “It's okay, I'm not gonna make you do that." You whispered to her and hugged her shaking frame as you felt your own silent tears escaping, trying to guide her back to the comfort of the other women.

“You didn't have to-"

“It's okay." You assured the best you could. Ondine, who you'd rarely spoken with looked at you and nodded, as if that said everything she thought, and it did. Suddenly it was as if the regrets you may have had were gone, this wasn't just about you and Finnick, there was so much more on the line and you couldn't have stayed home to watch anyone else suffer.

The consciousness that you were on camera hit you so you let go of Annie and turned back towards where Finnick stood, damning your heart for caring, for not listening. He tried to keep us appearances for the cameras, but the looks of rage, woe, and despair were evident if one simply looked into the depths of his eyes and the way his jaw was clenched ever so slightly.

“District 4’s tributes for the third Quarter Quell!" The screeching voice announced and you wrapped your hand into the stiffness of Finnick's and dragged them above your heads. Letting your makeshift rings sit front and center would be sure to draw the attention of the Capitol citizens deeply invested in this all. Allowing the tears to bubble at your eyelids, it was already part of the brand you'd created years ago. Finnick’s nose flared as he forced his smile and without goodbyes you were led off the stage towards the train.

You could feel the intensity of his rage radiating off of his aura, not the calming warmth he usually possessed, but you knew you wouldn't take back your actions regardless of who'd been chosen. So you resigned yourself to the harshness that lay behind the train's metal doors.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. there is so much more I have planned for this series and I'm so excited to share it with y'all. if you liked it, feedback is much appreciated, likes, comments, reblogs any of it I'm so, so grateful for. as always, my inbox is open for any and all things or ideas! thank you again so much!

taglist: @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @avoxrising @artsyaquarium @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore

[motelofmermaids]

omg… shy!reader still getting butterflies after years of dating finnick. like she has to cover her face sometimes bc he looks at her for too long and she gets all flustered, type shit.

reader is literally just a girl!

“you’re so beautiful,” finnick would tell you, thumb gently stroking your cheek. he’d put his hand on your lower back, guiding you through the bustling farmers market. he’d hold onto your hips, leaning in close to whisper the love he has for you, the ghost of his breath kissing your lips. it didn’t matter that you’ve known finnick odair your whole life—being in a relationship with him for many years.

no, it didn’t matter when he had you under this spell. a spell that takes your breath away, ties up your insides in nervous bows, exploding when he’d lean in close or couldn’t keep his eyes off you. you could be in bed, a bed that has been shared with finnick odair for years, and you’d have to roll over to hide the dumb smile on your lips, your cheeks hot and heart giddy. you could be sitting at the table, eating breakfast as finnick watched you so intently. you’d cover your face, asking him ‘what? is there something wrong?’ in a shy voice, and he’d just breathe out a sweet ‘i just love you… so much.’

being around finnick was brutal, the way you’ve never gotten used to his sweet words, his suggestive flirtations, his hands on you—and you lived with him. you’d choke on air, his gaze pulling it out of you, his fingers playing with the strings of your heart, his laugh blooming glorious butterflies in your stomach. you loved him more than anything, as did he.

but god, did he turn you into a shy mess.

[janitorhutcherson]

finnick odair who was never in the games but instead is your average man who lives in a coastal city in california. he’s rough around the edges still, gruff, sarcastic, and cocky, but he is happy and free. he’s more soft spoken and his guard is let down more, but only around specific people. mostly only around you.

finnick odair who owns a fishing company called ‘odair fisheries.’ he spends most of his time out on a little sailboat he’s made up. he’ll spend hours out in the ocean, just him, a cooler, and his fishing rod. his golden tan skin is sunburnt in some areas from long exposure and lack of sunscreen, something you’d gotten onto him about ten times too many. his body is covered in little tattoos of seashells, sea turtles, boat anchors, small outlines of fish. a seashell necklace sits around his neck, homemade from your delicate and loving hands.

finnick odair who’d practically BEG for you to come fishing with him. you weren’t the biggest fan. something about sitting out in the searing heat all day on a rocking surface didn’t seem all that appealing to you, but when finnick would look at you with his big blue puppy dog eyes, his bottom lip sticking out, you couldn’t resist. if you were determined to deny his suggestions, he’d go even further, throwing in a desperate, “please, sweetheart, you know i hate being without you as is.” as always, you’d give in, not particularly loving the sweat dripping off of your forehead but loving admiring your partner in front of you. you loved the way his face scrunched up in focus as he cast the line, his eyes perched on a particular spot. you loved the way his muscles tensed as he reeled the line in, or the way he huddled over you when attempting to teach you how to fish for the hundredth time (once again unsuccessful, though you know he’d try again tomorrow).

finnick odair who also taught children to fish as a part of his company. on weekend mornings, he’d have different classes that would last about 30 minutes. at the beginning, he’d take a group of kids out to a dock near his boat and he would teach the basics. by the end of the block of classes, he’d have even kids as little as 5 out fishing on his boat with him. he loved the kids like his own, growing attached to each and every one of them. you loved watching him teach, seeing how he’d sweetly hug the little boy gripping onto his leg back or how he’d soothe the crying little girl who fell and scraped your knee. he’d get you involved in helping to wrangle the kids, too, watching you intently as you’d braid a little girl’s hair for her or cradle one of the youngest ones on your hip. finnick wanted kids more than anything and he wanted them with you, his mind going crazy, desperate for a little family with you every time he saw you with children. it’s safe to say finnick’s baby fever is crazy.

finnick odair who spends rainy sunday mornings with nothing else to do playing guitar hero and other various video games. as rain would pelt down heavily on the roof of the house, the waves rocking the boat a little too much for him to even dare to attempt the seas (although he had in unsafe weather one too many times for your liking), you’d be awoken far too early in the morning to the smell of freshly baked muffins (from a box) and the sound of some rock song on the tv mixed with plastic clanking. you’d trudge into the living room, fuzzy blanket wrapped around your cold shoulders, and plop down onto the couch where a muffin already awaited you with some warm coffee on the side table. you couldn’t help but laugh as you nestled into your corner on the couch, turning yourself into a nest of blanket. finnick would be going crazy with the guitar strapped around his neck, resting at his somewhat bare torso. he’d be jamming out in his underwear, hair tussled, eyes still puffy with sleep. his nimble fingers would click through the red, blue, green, yellow pieces as his piercing blue eyes focused on the screen. you couldn’t help but fall more in love with him as you begin to doze back off in your corner.

finnick odair who loves intimacy. it was something that didn’t come easy to him. although things were much simpler for finnick odair in this life than in the hunger games, he still had his guard up. you’d taught him how to be intimate, how to love and to feel love, how to share his feelings with more than just ‘i love you.’ at night, he would spoon you to sleep, hand always resting on your stomach from behind, nuzzled up as close as he could get. if he was holding you the other direction, he’d hold you close into his chest, resting his nose in your hair, taking in your scent. “you are my entire ocean, the sea breeze that makes the waves move, the crystal blue water, all the way up to the glisten in the sea, sweet girl,” he’d mutter into your ear. even when you were fast asleep, he’d still whisper sweet nothings into your ear. when you’d take showers, he’d carefully sneak in and slip in behind you, almost always causing you to fall, but he’d be prepared and catch you. he’d then tenderly wash through your hair for you, pressing little kisses to your shoulders. finnick loved and adored you and he’d do anything possible to show that.

[thedelicatearcher]

finnick odair loves dancing with you on the living room floor. every friday night, you and finnick have a tradition of cooking dinner together. tonight's dinner was lasagna and pasta. while cooking, you love putting music on, singing, and goofing around with each other, occasionally sneaking in some kisses.

"yours are the sweetest eyes i've ever seen," finnick sang 'your song' flawlessly as he used a big spoon as a mic, serenading you dramatically when he should've been adding another meat sauce layer to the lasagna. even though he sings to you regularly, you can't help but blush every time he does it. he never gets tired of seeing you get all blushy and flustered, feeling encouraged to up his antics.

"let's go honey, grab my hand," he said as he led you to the living room floor, to the one free spot beside the couch, and began dancing with you. with his right hand on your hip, and his left one holding yours, you found yourselves laughing as you tried to waltz in the tiny space.

"finn baby, we're going to trip," you squealed as he spun you around, and you almost tripped over the couch. he didn't think twice before he started clearing out the room, moving the furniture to expand your dance room

now, with an extended dance floor, finnick didn't waste a minute and immediately put his hands on your hips, swaying with you slowly. "hope you don't mind that i put down in words, how wonderful life is now you're in the world," he sang to you softly into your ear as he held you and led you around.

[d4yl1ghts]

i’ve got you

finnick odair x fem!reader

summary: you go with finnick to help katniss and the mockingjay squad but you begin to regret it as you realise you could lose the one thing keeping you grounded

warnings: mention of death, panic attack

-

You placed your backpack down before you sat down as you felt the cool metal through your hands. The rigid material was not comfortable but it would have to do. You supposed this was what one could expect if they were to aid the rebellion. Rustling through your bag, you heard sos,one plop down beside you. You turned around and saw your boyfriend, Finnick, who smiled at you cutely. His dimples were creased and his eyes were glistening in the low-lighting of the underground and you couldn’t help but stare. He wasn’t called the ‘Capitol darling’ for no reason.

You waved at him like a child who didn’t know they were in a war. He let out a low chuckle. “How are you feeling, baby?”, he gently asked you. “Tired.”, you muttered quietly as you rested your head against his shoulder which was conveniently padded with his uniform. “Me too.”, he yawned to emphasise his point. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”, he questioned as he looked down at you, careful not to move his shoulder. “Not really.”, you mumbled into his shoulder. “Will I have to give you a piggyback around?”, he joked teasingly. “Yeah, I’d love that actually. Can we just do that every day from now on?”, you said playfully. “No. I need to keep my muscles fresh. Sorry!”, he stated confidently. “What muscles?”, you asked as you squeezed his massive bicep. He laughed. “I’m joking, they’re huge.”, you stated.

He smirked down at you in victory. You loved his biceps and he knew that.

You glanced up at him before asking, in a softer tone: “What if I lose you?”

“Hmm?”, he mumbled, not hearing you. “What if I lose you or you lose me?”, you questioned cautiously. “I won’t lose you, I’ll protect you. Darling, you’re my number one priority.”, he said, not elaborating on the first part. “What if I lose you?”, you repeated, more clearly this time. “You won’t lose me. Why would you?”, he reciprocated. “Finn, I can’t lose you. I couldn’t live with out you. You’re the only reason I’m still here, Finnick.”, your breathing picked up as you imagined a life with out him.

“You won’t lose me.”, he repeated with certainty in his tone. “You’ll probably pull out some stupid hero move. Finnick, you can’t risk it because that’s just selfish, okay?!”, you questioned in one breath. Your vision had started to get blurry and your heart rate had picked up. He looked down at you and noticed your state. He moved in front of you. “Baby.”, he cupped your cheeks. “You won’t lose me, okay? I won’t leave you. I would never do that to you.”, he replied to your worries. “Okay.”, you answered, trying to focus on your laboured breathing.

“Follow my breathing, baby.”, he guided you, telling you to “breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.”

“I’ve got you, baby girl.”, he added as he took your hands into his. You gazed into his sea-green eyes as you kissed his slightly chapped lips. He’d usually have chapped lips, it was one of the side effects of living by the beach. You took in his scent: a mixture of freeing sand and captivating cologne. He instantly kissed you back, loving the feeling of your lips against each others. Your lips were moulded for each other. You were now out of breath for a completely different reason to before.

Finnick had his hands placed softly around your waist whilst yours laid happily in his hair. You sighed contentedly into the kiss as you gently ruffled his fluffy hair. You felt his lips curl upwards against yours, causing yours to do the same. After a long minute, you had to pull away to take in some oxygen but it was a lasting kiss.

Finnick pecked your forehead as he hoisted you onto his lap. “We need to get some sleep, baby girl.”, he mumbled into your hair as you made yourself comfortable on his legs. “I love you to the bottom of the ocean and from the depth of my heart.”, he stated charmingly. “I love you, Finn, so much.”, you pulled him as close to yourself as you could.

[tremarctoss]

those great whites they have big teeth

warnings: future NSFW; not canon or epilogue compliant; mind the tag

notes: 7k+ words, no beta

ao3 // gif source

In his last attempts to stop quickly growing unrest, President Snow decides to listen to Plutarch Heavensbee and promote his very own star-crossed lowers.

I try to hurry up the steps of the Capitol Theatre but my handler - an elderly woman named Antonia wearing a wig in the colour of fresh lime - is stopping me all the time and asking to pose for photographs. Perhaps her ulterior motive was to blind me because my eyes need several seconds to come back to normal after flashes assault them.

- Rosamund! - a paparazzi calls my name and points a little higher to the steps on my right that a woman from Capitol was posing before.

- He wants you there. - Antonia says while pushing me up. - Perhaps look at them over your arm?

Perhaps not but I know I need to do as she says. I let her style the long dress train and my hair and try to give my widest smile to the people with the cameras. I hoped at first that the light pink dress chosen for me would be too boring here but people seem to love the bow on my back. Thankfully, just as I consider rolling back down the stairs the crowd goes wild. 

- Oh, it's Gloss and Enobaria. - Antonia sounds dreamy. - They look so beautiful together.

I take my chance and hike up my skirts and dart up the stairs before she can react. I tiptoe behind Caesar interviewing Cecelia about the Games. What does she think about the couple that won the Games? What about their fighting style? There is no way I want to answer those questions so I rush inside the theatre.

Dear god, this whole experience makes me dislike Plutarch even more. Why did I agree to work with him again?

- Excuse me, please excuse me. - I am not sure why I even bother. Most of the people don't move and I have to squeeze myself in to pass them making sure no one steps on my dress. 

I try to find someone I know, any familiar face just to not feel like a pig being led to the slaughter. 

- Excuse me, - I say and a man wearing glasses looks at me like I am an alien from another universe. - Beetee, right?

- Yes. Rosamund, am I correct? - He gives me his hand and I shake it. - I don't think I have seen you here since your games.

He sounds curious but not unkind. I feel hopeful for a moment before reminding myself that everyone can be an enemy here.

- Yeah, - I giggle nervously. - Listen, I know it's dumb and I don't want to bother you but I don't know anyone here so would you be so kind as to tell me what we are supposed to do here? I lost both my escort and people from my District somewhere. 

I don't tell him how hopeful I am that Antonia broke her neck. And there's no point in bothering either Roman or Lucius. They are probably doing coke somewhere.

- It's the first premiere ever so I truly don't know either. - his voice is kind again but I cannot stop myself from getting closer to him when I feel another hand on my body. I desperately want people to stop touching me.

- Yeah, do you mind if I stay with you? I tried following Blight up the stairs but I was too slow. Sorry if that's too much you don't need to…

- Hey, - he stops my spiral and grabs me by my arm. - Everything's fine, you are not bothering me. Just breathe, all right? I actually like having someone around too.

- Do you guys mind pretending to talk with me and going somewhere looking busy so I can get fucking drunk? - Haymitch, the most important person here probably, and one of the worst to hang around if you want to stay on Snow’s good side, puts his hand on Beetee’s hand that's on my arm.

I should want to stay on Snow’s good side but I don't care at the moment. I don’t think I ever cared after my father died. Plutarch wouldn’t be too happy with me I guess.

- Yes, please. - I say, fanning my face with my free hand. - Just give me a moment.

I force myself to stop breathing until my lungs hurt. The burning spreads to my face and my cheeks feel hot. Both men look at each other before taking me by the arms and leading me somewhere. There are dark spots in my vision and I must actually look terrible because the important-looking person who is supposed to be responsible for stopping us shows us a space to “take a break instead”.

It's a small space outside where people working at the theatre must be going to smoke a cigarette. There is an old red cup full of cigarette butts. There are also several bar-stools standing in a circle that we end up sitting on like teenagers plotting how to make our principal's life hell. Some kind of air conditioning machine loudly hums over our heads. I know because I have one at my Capitol-sponsored house back in my District. 

I cannot stop either the giggles that are leaving my mouth or the single tears that escape from each of my eyes. Carefully as not to destroy my make-up I wipe with a single finger under each eye.

- I always find it fascinating how you women do that. - Haymitch takes out a hip flask and points to my eyes before taking a huge sip, burps and I laugh nervously again. - Are you here just for the movie premiere?

- God, I wish. - I put my fingers under my eyes again. - Sorry, I think that whole not-breathing act did something to me. 

Why I cannot stop the tears?! It did not happen any other time I used this trick.

- I am here as damage control. I am supposed to meet my Capitol-approved partner. Apparently, they are also a Victor. - I look at Haymitch and some kind of disgust overtakes me. - I hope it’s not you!

The tears that follow are somehow bigger than the first ones. I use the end of my hair to wipe them off quickly.

- This is all stupid, I don't like this dress and don’t even get to have pockets! - I burst out crying now.

A chair fails and Haymitch stumbles out telling us to wait out. He comes back with someone and I recognize Cecelia immediately even through the tears. There are some kind of words exchanged and worried looks being sent my way. I pray for the air conditioning to fall on me and take me out.

- Head and hands up, inhale through your nose and exhale through your mouth - Either Cecelia’s voice is like a balm for my soul or maybe it’s the fact that I did what she asked me to. She puts tissues under both of my eyes - Good, your makeup is waterproof. 

She dabs the tissues delicately to make sure there are no tears left and throws it away in the corner next to the mug. She sits on the stool in front of me.

- So you have no hints who’s the lucky guy? - she's not smiling.

- I don't have any idea. I forgot to ask. - I admit and am met with two groans and laughter. I think the last one is coming from Haymitch.

- We are forced to marry in my District by a certain age and I... - I admit and start cackling madly. - I took it as a chance to push that moment away a little I guess.

- None of your male Victors are married. - Beetee says.

- The laws only apply to women. - I don’t even hide how bitter I am about this.

- It will be someone from either one or two, - Cecelia sounds like she's trying to warn me.

- I doubt it. - Haymitch says. - the closest people in age to her are either not so popular or in relationships. Would look fishy or could turn into a PR disaster.

- But that leaves only Annie, Augustus, Finnick or Johanna. - Beetee says.

- Augustus is from Two. - Cecelia reminds him.

- Haymitch presses his lips together and looks at me like he is choosing his words very, very carefully.

- Can you run fast?

- What? - I ask and blink not understanding what he's hinting at. Maybe he's much more drunk or I am extra dumb right now. Anyway, the question makes me laugh. Everything makes me laugh today it seems.

- Finnick’s escort was getting attacked at least once per week by his rabid fans after they were photographed too close together. Effie told me someone even keyed her car. Twice.

- It may be Johanna or Augustus. - I say ignoring Cecelia’s previous comment.

- You don't want it to be them. - Haymitch tells me. - And Annie's, it’s the best for her not to be brought back here.

He looks genuinely sad for a moment, takes another sip and moves closer to me. Starts gesticulating with his hands. 

- It's gonna be Finnick for sure. You two are gonna be that picture-perfect couple everyone wants to be. A famous heartthrob coming back home to his crush he was hiding away from everyone. A romance growing away from prying eyes. A stunning and beautiful woman no one knows much about until you both are in a serious stage of your relationship. All the men will want a woman like that and all the women will try to look as appealing as you in hopes of getting someone like Finnick for themselves. And you know what? I am not sorry, in fact, I am very happy it's you.

Haymitch stands up and stumbles towards me. One of his hands ends up on my bare arm. 

- You may take attention from my victors and may help their families stay alive. I’m just sad for you that it’s Finnick that's your partner. But that won't keep me awake at night. 

A door opens and the man from before asks me if I am better. I get up from my chair very slowly making it look like I may still not be.

- You could at least pretend to be some kind of support. - I say bitterly to Haymitch and reach for Beetee when I stumble for real. 

Haymitch has the decency to look ashamed for maybe four seconds.

- I will do my best, I guess.

- What’s wrong with Finnick? - I ask when we step outside.

- Nothing. - says Beetee.

- He’s a peacock. - says Haymitch at the same time.

There's a huge group of people waiting outside the cinema hall. Cecelia helps me keep the end of my gown up when we join it so no one steps on it and I won't stumble or fall. Only now I am calm enough to watch the people here. Women are wearing mostly dresses with big sleeves and huge flower bands in their hair. It takes me a moment to realise that they are trying to copy Effie’s look from the reaping. Cecelia is wearing a simple yet elegant yellow gown that ends at her ankles. She has some bees sewn on her arms. My own gown looks somehow strange here, taking too much space. Plus it’s a little small in the breast area and I remind myself not to slouch and walk like Quasimodo.

Someone spots Haymitch with us and we are moved immediately inside. A person guiding us raves to us how amazing this new cinema hall is. The love seats are made from some kind of leather that got painted dark blue. There’s a tiny armrest in the middle of every loveseat that can be brought down. Between every love seat is a table with many buttons that allow you to call for various beverages - from water to wine and even vodka. Food is listed also: popcorn, pizza and chips.

There's no assigned seating so I point Blight to Cecelia when I see him and grab Beetee with my free hand. Haymitch ends next to Chaff behind us in the highest row. Mags is sitting next to Chaff on the other side. I wonder if we could move there instead but someone sits down there and she looks happy to see that man. I think he’s from 9 but I don’t remember.

- Not saving a seat for your boyfriend? - is the first thing out of Blight's mouth when I sit down next to him in a loveseat. 

- Hello to you too. - I say putting a smaller armchair down and ordering water for myself. - Why would I when I can put him in your lap?

The way he mocked me hurts me a little more than I would like to admit. And how does he know anyway? I turn away from him to Cecelia and Beetee who are talking about something called emdr therapy and gentle parenting.

- You have children? - I ask Beetee. I know Cecelia has three.

- No. - he looks a little sad. - But some of those approaches help when I work with Wiress.

I like it when people talk about things that they are passionate about and both Beetee and Cecelia try to cram as much information as they can in the short time to explain to me the psychological approach behind those ideas. Also how it can help adults with complex trauma. Blight starts hitting my knee with his own so I move my legs away, put my chin on my hand and lean closer to Cecelia. I ask them if there is a way I can get my hands on some of the information they learned about. They did not teach us anything like that at the secret school that is run by the rebels in our District.

Someone kicks my chair from behind. I ignore it and the kick happens again. I put the glass down and I send the worst look I can at Haymitch.

- Did you run out of people to annoy or are you trying to warn me that you are about to throw up on me? - I whisper in an angry tone.

He looks at me with one eyebrow raised and puts his hand on the armrest in between him and Blight. Why is Blight sitting there, anyway? A sudden realization hits me and my body turns cold. I straighten up and turn to my right to see who is there only to come face to face with smirking Finnick and snickering Johanna behind him.

God, his jaw alone looks stronger than my will to live.

- I can’t do this. - I whisper aloud and turn to Cecelia who is staring daggers at people sitting behind her but takes my hand.

My mind is blank for a whole minute trying to process the situation but the lights go out and the staff usher a few last people. Caesar walks on the stage and starts talking about the great event that is the first cinema premiere of the summary of Hunger Games. He has a glass of champagne in his hand and many people ask for drinks immediately. A choir from 12 is getting ready to sing before the movie. Their voices and the voices of people trying to sing along drunkenly become a white noise to me as I try as much as possible to ignore looks from the Victors around me and Finnick burning a hole in my face with his eyes. It seems only Cecelia is on my side and I clutch her hand as a lifeline.

I am going to murder Plutarch in his sleep. What was he even thinking? Did he slip that idea to Snow? Which one of them chose Finnick? No, forget it, why did I even agree to this anyway? Was my life really this bad back in 10? I was terribly lonely but I had food and a roof over my head. Why did I decide to change that? Was I that scared of being forced into marriage? How is this any different?

Haymitch is hitting my chair again and I close my eyes, take a deep breath and let go of Cecelia’s hand. I turn around to him. I act before I even think about what I am doing. I grab his foot with my hand and yank. Unfortunately, Cecelia yanks me too and I end back in my seat only with Haymitch’s shoe. No one seems to mind us as people are standing up to clap until the choir leaves. I throw the shoe in between me and Cecelia and kick it under the chair of the man from District 8 sitting in front of me. A foot in an old sock ends in between me and Cecelia when we are sitting down and I move my body away from it so fast I expect my back to hit an armchair strong enough to hurt. Instead, I collide with Finnick. His hand steadies me and I have no choice but to turn my face to him awkwardly.

- Sorry. - I say. He does not move his eyes from my face.

 I wish I could run through the deep forest green of his eyes.

- Are you? - he asks. He moves his legs a little and spreads his thighs. I cringe inside when my first reaction is to move mine away when we touch. Something arrogant fills the air. - I never saw someone turn me down so fast, I think my ego may be actually bruised for the first time. Perhaps you could give me a chance to change your mind?

And then he winks at me. I am genuinely humiliated with how the situation is turning out. 

Another kick from Haymitch and my head turns around so fast it may actually snap. He is making big eyes at me, drinks a whole glass of clear liquid that surely is not water and makes big eyes at me again. He looks like one of those huge white owls back home. Of course, if owls could get drunk. Blight is looking like he regrets changing his seat.

- Just ignore him, Snow’s not here so he will get drunk in no time.  - Finnick tells me.

He is watching me closely and his eyes move from my own to my mouth and back to my eyes again. He licks his lips and leans over my body to take my glass of water. Our bodies don’t touch but I can feel the heat of his body. He winks at me when he sits back.

- You should focus on me instead. - Finnick says and drinks from my glass watching me the whole time. I am sure his lips are touching it in a place where my lipstick is smeared. 

Someone groans behind us and I turn to see Blight with his face in his hand. Haymitch looks impressed and gives me a thumbs up. Cecelia nods at me gently. A strand of hair gets stuck on my face after I turn back around. Finnick moves it away before I even begin to lift my own hand. His left-hand ends casually on my thighs after.

The whole movie thing is a bizarre experience. People shout at the screen, scream obscenities and some jump up when the person they dislike ends up being shown during the interviews part of the movie. Some popcorn is getting thrown at the screen. The whole time Finnick’s hand is on my body, his fingers pressing into my skin from time to time.

I touch it when the bloodbath happens on the screen. It’s warm, his skin is soft and rough at the same time. He has some calluses on his fingers and I trace them with my nails back and forth for some time. I move onto his nails next and trace them too. Short and blunt. I touch every one of them slowly then move to the first one and trace every nail again. Then I trace every one of them two times and three and so on. 

It's dumb but it's everything I can do to not to think about what is happening around us. I hope it’s not annoying Finnick too much. Only when Peeta is covered in mud and mouths “Katniss” and some people laugh, I stop what I’m doing to Finnick’s hand. Instead I slide some bit further in my chair and move my knees into Finnick’s space. He brings his knee under both of mine and I suddenly feel very hot. There's a part inside my body that clenches when he moves his hand to my knees and squeezes the left. 

When Rue gets killed I start watching his hand instead of the screen and try to recognize all the things his smell brings to my mind. Salt like sea I guess, I’ve never seen it. Some vanilla I think. Like cakes and ice cream in summer. Freshly cut wood, not as strong as Blight or Beetee use but more airy kind. And there’s something flowery there too. I move my head a little to pretend to watch the movie more comfortably and inhale deeply. Jasmine, it’s a gift from god, they say. It may truly be when it comes to Finnick.

People holler when Cato runs through the bushes and Katniss with Peeta climb onto Cornutopia. I see Cecelia bringing her hands to her face from the corner of my eye. The noise coming from the speakers somehow numbs me and I am taken back in time to when I was in my games hearing the other last two people standing and killing each other. Finnick squeezes my knee and starts pressing his fingers into my skin from his smallest to his thumb. I look at him but he’s busy talking to Johanna.

I wonder how does it feel to be 14 and kill so many people. I wonder how does it feel to appear to not to be affected at all. I don’t think it’s part of his personality. Does he wake up every day and puts on a mask? Or how is it to be loved by so many people in the Capitol and worshipped by many others in the Districts. Even in my own one people look up to him.

I wonder if he looks down on me and sees me as a coward. If he despises me for being stuck with me.

I sit up straighter when the stint with blueberries happens and remove my legs from Finnick’s, moving them a little up and down in my shoes that feel too small after all. 

People whistle and clap when Katniss’ crying face shows in the hovercraft and we again stand up when the lights get turned on. The whole venue looks like something erupted there. The smell of alcohol is strong in the air and the floor is covered in food. So much waste.

Haymitch pushes me and almost topples over the chair while trying to get his shoe. It forces me to step into Finnick’s space and I hit his chest with my elbow.

- Sorry, - I say.

He does not look at me busy talking with Johanna who looks like she wants to rip someone's throat out. His arm wraps around me with his hand resting on my stomach and I freeze and tense my muscles there. It's not my favourite part to be touched. I wrap my hand around his to keep it place when he starts moving it down and move my ear around so I can over listen Finnick and Johanna arguing whenever she should leave or not. Are they dating? Am I a problem here?

- Hey, - Blight announces loudly - thirty minutes here and then we meet at the cars.

I try to follow Cecelia when she asks me but Finnick keeps me firmly in his wrap.

- Sorry, - I say but he is still talking with Johanna. I pinch his hand. - Unless your hand is going with me to the bathroom I suggest you let me go.

Johanna looks me up and down like she’s about to hit me with one of her hammers. Finnick squeezes my stomach again which makes me angry for some reason. He then slides his hand around my back and that makes me feel something very interesting inside.

Oh no, I am so fucked. I pick up my dress and without a word run after Cecelia.

----

- Where the fuck have you been? - Is literally the first thing out of Johanna’s mouth when we climb inside the limo. The door did not even close behind me. - Were the wardrobe changes that important?

- I got stuck in the loo. - Cecelia says taking out a mirror from her bag. She looks herself over there before answering. - It’s not my fault they did not get me out that fast. 

- I am glad she’s covering for me. Yes, she got stuck but on a purpose. She spent more than fifteen minutes there helping me to calm down and giving me tips on how to fake bing in love and all that. She did not laugh when I told her I never dated anyone. I don’t think I will be ever able to express properly to her how thankful I am. I wonder how does she know all of that but am afraid to ask.

She’s wearing another yellow dress. It slightly passes her knees and has those Effie-like sleeves. Surprisingly, the bright yellow looks good on her. I don’t see any other female Victors being able to rock such colour.

- Why are you allowed a bag? - I ask. - I don’t even have pockets again.

Someone else dressed me this time. My district’s stylist only chose pinks for me whenever we worked together. However, now I am dressed in a simple silver slip dress that ends in the middle of my calf with some blue tulle ruffles decorating around my breasts and at the bottoms of my dress. My shoes are the right size. Surprisingly, or maybe not really, I feel much freer in a dress that is not hugging my body tight and in shoes that don't pinch.

- And you could not text us? - Johanna’s voice is getting on my nerves. In fact, everything is. The number of people in the car, the fact that I don’t know where Finnick is and how I am supposed to make it work with him while keeping my feelings in check.

- I don’t have a phone. - I answer instead of Cecelia. - Kinda bold of you to assume I would like to have your number anyway when you act like that towards me.

- What the fuck! - She stands up.

She moves up and in my direction but the car turns and she ends on her seat again. She's sitting in the middle and Blight is holding her back so I think I have a chance to get to our next destination without actually having to defend myself.

- Can you girls leave it for some other time? - he says. - Let’s just let go for a night. 

- Legs together. - Cecelia reminds me when the car stops. 

It must have started raining outside shortly after we left. The flashes are covered by the umbrellas mostly. I use the weather as the reason to run inside. Surprisingly, the stilettos are good for that too. I wait for Cecelia around the door. Neither Haymitch or Beetee were in the car with us and I desperately want to avoid Johanna. 

I don't see Finnick for which I am glad this time. The truth is his presence is making me dizzy and ready to faint. Also - all my insecurities jump out when I am around him. It's like I think people see me as a charity case for him. I know I see myself as a charity case for sure.

I stick to Cecelia's side for the whole time and talk with some women. They talk about that new trend of a single huge flower on a hairband in their hair that Effie started. What flowers should I choose and what the meaning behind every one of them is. I just nod and add polite comments on the clothes they are wearing when I feel that I might have drunk a bit too much alcohol. A waiter comes with the drinks again and I take another flute of champagne but don't drink it. The laughter comes a little easier for me now and I notice our group becomes louder. It's surprisingly easy to fit in once you ignore that the world is swaying a little. The concern comes when I suddenly get afraid of what may come out of my mouth and want Cecelia or anyone to take my hand. The walls are closing on me and my stomach does this weird thing when it wants to get everything up.

- Thank you, - Finnick takes the flute from me and brings his arm around my middle. His hand rests on my side this time and he moves it up and down there.

He works our group like a shepherd dog herding animals. They listen to his every word for several minutes and wish us a great time when he says that our car is here. I am surprised at how quickly we leave. I catch some women raising their eyebrows when Finnick moves his hand down my back and starts leading me out.

He exchanges some pleasantries with a few people on our way and introduces them to me. A general, a doctor, a model and so on. I wonder what the driver is thinking about having to wait for us for so long.

As we near the door he takes his hand away from me and takes off his suit jacket and unbuttons two more buttons of his shirt. He wraps his jacket around me and presses me close to him.

- If the cameras are gonna blind you just focus on me.

My heart speeds up when they go off. It stopped raining but I can feel the cold air on my bare legs. Finnick’s broad frame is shielding me from most of the lights, his steps are sure and not even once he steps on my toes. He helps me get in the car. I can totally understand the grip he has on people. He gets in on the other side. 

- Do you want something to eat or just a drink?

- Some light dinner would be nice. - I still feel dizzy from the alcohol and I know I need to clear my head if we’re supposed to talk. I mean, we’re supposed to talk, right?

Finnick gives some weirdly -sounding name to the driver and the car turns around. I watch him in the car window. He is wearing a two-piece suit tonight. In dark blue. I have his jacket obviously and it feels very nice around my arms. Silk, I think. And a silk crispy white shirt I think too. I want to touch it and check for sure but I keep my hands close to me. 

One of the locks of his hair fell on his forehead. There's no way I could describe how he looks in one word alone. I once read an article saying he's like a Sun but I don't like the implication that I could end up being Mercury or Venus if I get too close to him. 

He’s typing furiously on his phone. I don’t see who. Is this Johanna? Is she jealous? I think they really may be together.

- Will I also get a phone? - I ask him. 

He stops writing and looks up at me surprised. He catches my eyes watching him in the window and I turn around embarrassed. It's even worse when I look at him now. His eyes have the colour of the summer forest at the golden hour. His skin radiates the warmth of that sun too.

- You don’t have one?

- I don’t even have a bag. - I answer. - Or pockets in my dress, I don’t understand why. I don’t know where I am staying. Do you think you could contact my escort for me? 

- No one told you? - he asks me, staring all the time at my face. His expression is carefully guarded and I cannot read anything on his face.

- No one told me about what?

- That you are living with me.

----

Finnick is in his sheepdog mode again. The one, where he has to catch the lost animal before it accidentally rolls down the hill to its death. He is in front of the car door before I even get my first foot out, his hand steadying me and his arm around my body guiding me to the restaurant and then inside. His eyes are on me all the time, the dark green following my every move when I sit down, when I open the menu, when I write my order down.

I cannot blame him. It was me who almost opened the car door after all when we were speeding through the city because I wanted to get out.

I try my best to collect myself and I look around the restaurant. First is the ceiling, covered with fresh flowers hanging upside down. The only ones I know are peonies, dahlias and hydrangeas. All of them bloom around city hall back home. They are mostly pink, red and white here, I think. It’s hard to tell in this light. Ivy wraps itself around walls and pillars. I look behind me and some of its vines are hanging in the windows. There are also forget-me-nots growing where a window sill is supposed to be. When I inspect them closer I can see they are, surprisingly, pink and violet. We have only blue back home.

Home, how I long for it now. The city I saw only three times in my life feels even more foreign now and the emptiness I have inside me threatens to swallow me whole. I realize I am hunching my shoulders and clutching at a lapel of Finnick’s suit jacket that’s still around my shoulders. I straighten up and put my hands in my lap. I look at the people to my right and left, making sure not to stop my eyes at the man sitting in front of me. 

There are only tables for two people everywhere but I see some same sex couples. It’s very frowned upon at 10. I am not sure if other Districts allow those kinds of relationships. I know people were sentenced to lynching in 13 for that. I learned about it at the secret school my dad enrolled me in when I was a teenager.

The thoughts of my home taste bitter when I look at the splendour and resources wasted here. 

I think tables like the one we’re sitting at are kind of special for the people here. We’re sitting far away from the entrance but even from here I can see colorful people at the door pointing at the same tables as ours and starting arguments with the staff. I sit in some sort of huge armchair that seems to come straight out of the wall under the window while the ones on Finnick’s side are club chairs I think. There’s a television program that focuses on home furnishing. I always found them irritating. It’s one of Capitol’s ways of letting us know about the things we will never be able to afford.

I watch the couples sitting around us. Many of them are bored or fighting which takes me by surprise. I thought people here could choose their partners, why bother being with someone you don’t like? Then I remind myself what Finnick and I must look like to other people. I’ve been avoiding his eyes for the past few minutes while he - well, I don’t know what he has been doing. I take a look at him and he is watching me over a glass of wine with a curious look on his face. Where did he get wine anyway? 

- You want some? - he must have noticed what I was looking at.

- I think we both can agree it’s not the best idea when it comes to me.

I put my right forearm on the table, hand up trying to copy the couple three tables to my left. They look like they are in love and I think this is the way we should carry around each other if we want to sell the whole thing. Finnick puts his left hand over mine and presses two of his fingers over my pulse point.

-Yeah, - he says like he’s trying very hard not to laugh. - I kinda got the vibe even before you pulled the handle, honey.

The pet names have to stop. I am going to melt and be a wet stain on the floor if they won’t.

- Sorry, - I say, ashamed. - I just really don’t know anything and ummm…. - my words fail me. - I don’t know you? And I just…

Finnick looks like he’s angry for a moment. I cannot help but blame myself for it. He must hate that he is forced to spend my time with me while I act like a damsel that needs saving all the time.

- No harm will come to you from my hand. - Finnick says. There’s something dark in his look still but he moves his hand from my pulse and starts playing with my fingers instead.

- So you like pockets? - he asks casually and the atmosphere becomes much lighter.

- I adore them. I mean dresses with pockets. - I correct and laugh. - And pigs. And I like to think that Antonia’s hair looks like a long-haired sheep that ran to the stage when my name got pulled out.

Our dinner arrives and the waiter talks about the courses we will eat. All of them are District-12 inspired but the plates are very small. I doubt it’s because the restaurant wanted to show the hardship people there have to face. I just ordered dumplings with goat meat but the table is covered with dishes that I guess are all for Finnick but he surprises me by putting some things on my plate all the time. I let him talk about his life here. He spends every two weeks in the Capitol and comes back to his District for two weeks. 

I wonder if I will be able to travel there with him. I need to find a way to make sure Plutarch sends me there too, I’ve never seen the sea. I’m sure he’s going to agree if I play my part well enough. If not then I can say I have to double-check there to make sure we can trust Finnick. 

- A penny for your thoughts? - Finnick says when he notices me smiling at the mental image of myself asking Plutarch if he can stop his serious shenanigans because I really want to see the sea.

- This whole experience is much nicer than Haymitch warned me. - I decide to tell him instead.

- You should be really careful about what he tells you. - Finnick says and slides almost the whole plate with katniss towards me. - He’s a very intelligent person but the alcohol has a strong grip on him and he loses himself more often than he would like to admit. 

We finish our food and the empty plates are taken away. I watch as the couple I copied earlier stands up to leave. I try to remember their movements.

- Seeing something or someone you like? - Finnick asks and there’s this playful tone in his voice that I’ve heard so many times on the tv when he was about to make everyone swoon. - because I’m sure I can do better than whoever you believe you want now, sweetheart.

.I know my eyes turn big and round but the kind of face I’ve made at Finnick sends him laughing so loudly that some of the people start looking much more openly at us.

- Sorry, - he says, sounding anything but. - It’s just that your face is terribly expressive. 

The waiter sets some kind of fancy drink in front of me in a high glass shaped like a flower with four petals. The liquid is dark violet and it’s covered with a white foam and some pink hydrangea flowers. I bring it slowly to my lips so as not to spill it. It tastes divine, not too sweet and has nothing bitter in it. I moan when it slides down my throat.

- There’s alcohol here. - I tell Finnick when I set it down. I almost drank the whole thing at once before I realized.

- I thought it couldn’t be that bad to let you have something small.

He has this amused look on his face. Like he is ready to pounce on me and drag me back if I stray too far away. 

The waiter comes with some kind of a delicacy he puts in the middle on the table and puts two forks down. It’s round and dark blue with some sort of white cream inside. It’s sprinkled with something gold and shiny but bigger than glitter. A tiny crown sits on top of it.

- It’s our special dessert reserved only for our truly extraordinary guests. Inspired by the first couple to ever win Hunger Games. Blueberry macaroon with goat milk cream filling that represents an image of true love in unprecedented and hardest times.

I push my fork into it hoping it will shut him up. It’s extremely sweet, while the games tasted like pain and blood even to me. Broken friendships and nightmares. Vomit and urine and shit on the bed after. Hands I never wanted on my body touching me when I could not fight. People mocking me that at least thanks to Games I lost those kilos that were too heavy on me.

Finnick taps my ankle with his shoe when the waiter asks me what I think about it. He sends me a look over another glass of wine. I think it’s a warning to be nice.

- I think it mixes too much with the drink I just had but I like how light it is. It fits well with everything we ate. However, - I put the last pieces with the crown carefully on the fork and bring them towards Finnick. - I believe a true connoisseur should be the final judge.

Silence falls around us, I can see people sitting at the table behind Finnick actually put their forks down to watch what’s happening at our table. As for the man himself, he takes my shaky palm in his steady one and slowly wraps his mouth around the fork in my hand. I can hear people inhale when he moans.

-Delicious, - he says. - tastes almost as good as my beloved.

The waiter is blushing as I must be for sure. Finnick stands up and suddenly we’re leaving. His arm is around me again and only now do I notice how respectful he has been acting the whole night. His hand never wanders too low, he stopped touching my stomach, monitored my alcohol intake and had my hands in his in the car when I was terrified. He leads me around the room making sure I don’t trip accidentally on any steps. 

He does not bring up the fact I almost gave up on the whole act in the cinema. After the first wave of panic left me I realized he may have things at stake that do not allow him to walk away as easily.

I want to thank him somehow and play my part better now. I hope to mimic the couple I saw earlier and when we step outside and the first flash goes off I hope my finger around one of his belt loops to slow him a little. He turns around with one of his eyebrows raised and I kiss him quickly in the space under his chin and close to his ear. Someone shouts and Finnick kisses the corner of my mouth. 

- Yeah, no more alcohol for you. - he says laughing and leads me to the car.

Jasmine, I realize, is definitely a fragrance for gods.

Actions

[pedropascalluv]

when you know, you know.- Finnick Odair

You and Finnick have always had a bond. It was undeniable. Many were jealous of the love you two shared as best friends, even if they always thought you two had something more going on you both denied it every time. Now that The Hunger Games are officially over, you and Finnick decided to stay around District 4 (Other than going to visit Peeta and Katniss) this was where you two grew up together, it was your home.  

The front door closes and you know exactly who it is as the footsteps get closer to my room and there he is giving you the big smile you love so much “You reading?” he lays next to you the smell of the sea becomes stronger “yup, did you catch anything?” you breathe in the salty aroma “Yes ma'am I did, how about we cook and then you can catch me up on your book?” you drop the book now staring at him “That's just about all we do”

“We live a simple life”

“That we do” he gets up 

“I’m gonna go take a quick shower”

“I’ll start preparing the food”

you decide to play music while you get started and because you did that you didn't hear Finnick coming up behind you, his hands moving to your waist "Can you not scare me when I have a knife in my hand, I will stab you." he laughs “you would never do such a thing” he grabs the knife in your hand placing it on the counter and bringing you close to his chest “Finn you know I’m a shit dancer don’t even try it” of course this doesn’t stop him, his hand resting on your lower back “come on just feel the song” you tried, you really did but feeling one hand moving the hair out of your face and the other was trailing up and down your back it was quite distracting 

“I love you” you smile squeezing his hand  “I love you too” his face is serious more serious than you've ever seen on him “No I love you in a way a best friend shouldn’t, you are my whole life and I’m sorry if this is a lot all the sudden but this war is finally over and I should’ve told you years ago but I- I didn’t want to lose you. I can’t keep acting like I’m not completely in love with you” You pause your head spinning as the grip on his hand has gotten even stronger.

 “You're in love with me?” 

“Yes” there was nothing but silence in the kitchen "I don’t know what I was-” he stops talking and starts to walk away but you grab his hand. 

 “You remember when we kissed right before I went into the games the second time?” he asks you nod the smile on your face not faltering “was that real, did you mean that or was it just a in the moment type thing? because I understand if it was” he was looking at the ground you cup his jaw his eyes meeting yours “It was real. I couldn’t even form a sentence sitting in that room with you. I didn't know how I was going to say goodbye to my best friend, the guy I've been in love with since I was a little kid. I knew you would go back into the games, and you might not be coming back. I couldn't lose you” his eyes glossy with tears threatening to escape “God I love you so much Finnick” Within a millisecond your lips were on his, the distant memory of when you first kissed him back when they announced that Finnick would go back in for the 3rd quarter quell the familiar feeling made you smile against his lips he pulled you away briefly his smile beaming back at you, he leans in your foreheads now touching 

“I love you more.”

“You are so competitive.”

“I am. And I always win” you roll your eyes at him 

“I take it back I don’t love you and your cocky ass.”

“No taking it back your stuck with me darling” he shrugs kissing your forehead "I love you more end of discussion" you say running to your room Finnick not far behind you go on the other side of your room he grabs you and throws you on the bed hitting you with a pillow you laugh covering your blushing face "I love you more" before you can say anything else he kisses you with more passion and hunger.

I guess when you know, you know.

-I might make more with Finnick but I will be posting something about Sejanus from tbosas so get ready-

[wifeofsnowbaird]

[guys its the prologue, i did it so fast! also if you don't know what a bard is, they're poets from medieval times who sang for the king and/or queen]

You Can't, You Can't Catch me Now I'm coming like storm into your town

Part I/Part 2/Part 3/

Masterlist

[ mentor!coriolanus snow x time-traveled hg-era, district 9 tribute!reader x toxic! finnick odair(in the peacekeeper era)]

Warning: violence, serious injury, death, physical assult, gun and knife violence, possibly non-con...maybe.

Summary: You are a rebel, the last chance of the rebellion against President Snow. You're told to go on one last mission to kill the man who massacred Panem. It took you years to understand your mission when you became [name] Lily Baird, starting from the age of five till before the reaping day of the 10th Hunger Games.

The day you began your plan to destroy President Snow before he became the villain he was meant to become.

'Both sisters, Lucy Gray and [Name] Lily Baird are a part of the Covey, and though they have been chosen as tribute for both District 12 and 9 because of our own mistakes, we hope they will stay safe.'

You knew about [Name] Lily Baird, named after her because your mother was inspired by her fiery personality and strength, but now you realize that you were transported to a time before the Baird sisters died, one of sickness and one because of Coriolanus Snow himself.

'I will kill you, President Coriolanus Snow.'

‘Remember what he has done to your family, [Name]. Snow is nothing but a manipulator.’

You laughed before grinning over to Haymitch as he sent you a worried glance.

‘Well, I better remember this. The only time Haymitch Abernathy is serious and not seriously drunk.’

He grinned, a wide smile covering his face.

‘Take a video! Then you could see it and I could prove that I can be serious!’

You both laughed before sighing as Haymitch glanced at you sadly.

‘Believe in me, [Name], I’ve heard about women who were sadly obsessed with him. I just don’t want you to get hurt. Kill him, fall in love with a man you’re destined for, and live a happy life with no Snow in your way.’

You shook your head, Snow couldn’t be that handsome and since you know what he will do, you’re strong enough to fight that feeling.

‘I promise.’

They led you to the table, letting you bask in the warmth of the heater in front of you since you had been outside in the cold.

Katniss, Peeta, hell even Gale had said goodbye to you.

It made you feel…like…people cared…for you…

But the person you actually wanted there...refused to talk before you-the last hope-left.

Before the Covey had left for District 12, a woman named [Name] Lily Baird had gained a deadly virus. In the life where you had lived, she died the week of the reaping day and wasn’t chosen as tribute for District 9, but this time, you will be alive and manage to kill the man who ruined your life.

You will die, President Coriolanus Snow.

*cough* covid *cough*

[libertyybellls]

FEMALE ROBBERY !

pairing; finnick odair x dist4!victor!f!reader

summary; meeting finnick at your capitol victor party, he is nothing short of entranced.

contains; fluff! just pure fluff, innocent- sweet, comforting, brief mentions of forced prostitution but no detail.

a/n; i was lowkey turning into anakin skywalker when i started writing about how much reader hates sand but it adds personality ok…

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

you were shivering, teeth practically chattering. the wide doors that led to the back of the luxurious party-mansion were wide open. your dress offered little warmth and neither did the people around you- their arrogance and bright colors offered no heat, no coziness, no reminders of home.

your wearing a corset dress- low cut, your chest on great display, you feel like the short hemmed bottomed makes you out to flash everyone at this party.

your hair has braids scattered about- your original hair texture is long gone with the amount of heat styling they’ve done on it throughout your victory tour and interviews. bows adorn the ends of each small braid that lays on your now, flat- straight hair.

the meaningless conversation, and congratulations throughout this party is enough to drive you mad. you need air- oh-so cold but nonetheless you needed more air. you’re feet are moving past people- people who grab at you, yelling praises, trying to get a passing word with you.

but you’re mind is racing, you need to sit in silence and breath.

you find a garden- you don’t have enough greenery back in your district, more ocean, too much sand, too much heat.

the sand got everywhere. you couldn’t complain about the ocean- oh, how you loved the water. but once the sand got in your hair, your shoes, your towel, your clothes- it couldn’t get out. it seemed sand would never leave you alone- president snow reminded you all too much of sand.

it felt like an infirmary sentencing, a life estimation. once the words ‘capitols doll’ left his mouth, ‘desirable’, ‘young, sweet, and pretty’ you felt sick- you’d live your life in misery until another innocent tribute would come along and take all of the heat. but you’d always be in a hotel room, in the capitol, entertaining the people like a puppet on a string.

you don’t think you’ve been warm since you heard those words, you don’t think there’s been enough air- but now, in this garden, everything seems okay.

you sit on a bench, rose bushes surrounding you, a few flowers you can name but never seen- only in books.

your hands are in your lap now, fingers playing with one another- your deep breathes began to lower your blood pressure.

until you hear footsteps nearing on the cold- crunchy grass that’s been frozen over from the weather.

he’s tall- shirtless. what stylist would do that to someone in this nippy weather? but you think your stylist would send you off to these parties naked if he had no decency, too.

he’s finnick odair. even the wind flirting your eyes can recognize that. how couldnt you? the poster boy of your district, sex symbol of panem, but you don’t comprehend any of it.

“you’ve found my spot.” he’s smirking, you can understand why people in the capitol swoon over him- not even six seconds and your body rushes with warm blood.

then you process his words, slowly scrambling to grab your clutch and rising to your feet. he puts his hand up, signaling for you to halt your movements.

“it’s nice to have company.” and so you move your bag over , allowing him more room to sit on the bench.

you don’t speak, atleast you don’t know what to say- you don’t ask questions or say something stupid. finnicks voice breaks the thick barrier of silence; “nice party they gave you.”

he’s joking, and his slight laugh makes you laugh. you’d won nearly a month ago- many sleepless nights covered with makeup and fake eyelashes. “yeah, i’m so grateful for them all.” you breathily laugh off.

the playfulness of this all is refreshing. it almost makes you long forget about your grim past and even darker impending doom.

he turns his head towards you, scanning your face- then to the rose bushes surrounding the both of you- then back to your face. “too many roses every where, i’m starting to hate the smell of them.”

you pick up on his small talk, and you almost laugh a little- he’s acting like a grade-school boy. “i’m beginning to think it possibly the ugliest thing natures created now.”

“mags told me about how mentoring you went, we were all relieved when you won.” you wince when you think about that, he knows that better then anyone here. the heart sinking feeling when your brain slips up for a second- that you don’t let yourself think to hard about, nor too long.

“thanks.” he doesn’t even know you yet, but he know that even if you don’t speak too much the ones you do vocalize have meaning, no vacancy in them. “are you cold?” you can’t help but voice your curiosity.

he looks down on himself, almost as though his body brings him guilt in a way. like he’s ashamed to own it, you’re sure you’ll understand soon.

but within seconds his guard is back up, back to the capitol darling. he simply places your hand on his shoulder, he’s forcing your body to move but in the most genuine way anyone has ever done so.

you feel your cold finger tips merge with his radiant shoulder, like a hypothermic to a heater.

finnicks aura is simply heat, not a touch of coldness. you wonder if it’s his insides pouring into his physical being. does he not have any cold feelings in his heart? is he genuine? “how are you warm right now?”

he only laughs as you try to remove your hand from him in the least awkward way you can, placing your hands back into your lap. there’s so many things you want to ask him, tell him. his soul is like a confession booth, that you’ve heard before. all the secrets he knows, all of the words only he’s been told.

“does it get better? even if you’ve been told something that doesn’t make you think it will?” he can only imagine what your last words mean, and now his heart drops. no- not someone like you? so young so unsuspecting, but weren’t they all?

“if you have someone to lean on, you’ll be okay.”

you frown at this, despite your fear of making yourself seem like a complete and utter loser to the golden boy of panem- you say; “and if i don’t?” you can’t help but think about your overworked tired parents, never home, never cared too much. your friends who you don’t see all too much.

“if you don’t,” he looks up from his lap now, eyes locked onto yours, only your eyes ever- not your exposed chest or the dress that rides up your thighs. “you have me if you’re willing, i think we’ve gotten on well.”

this makes you smile to yourself, you can’t look into his eyes any longer you think you’ll get lost. you feel like a school girl, unable to breathe around the presence of your crush. “i don’t know you all that well, finnick odair.”

he shakes his head, “haven’t you read the news, y/n l/n?” he’s mimicking your words, almost in a sing-song way.

“i don’t tend to make premeditated decisions on who someone is based on what the capitol news says. i prefer to get to know them instead.”

“well, let’s get to know eachother then.” his body turns toward you. flattening his hands onto his lap. “favorite color?”

you look at the grass before you, the stems of the flowers around you, the feeble, poor excuses of barely full bushes that line the sand before the water in district four. “green, not a dark green. something in the middle.” your eyes flick back to his, almost the perfect green you were talking about. “and you?”

“blue.” his two fingers pick up the bows at the end of your hair, you almost roll your eyes at this. too charming you could laugh.

“what are you scared of?”

he thinks about this one, taking a moment to relay his thoughts. it wasn’t death, no. he wouldn’t be scared when his time came, he would just hope the people he loves would be okay, that they’d get through it without him.

“becoming one of them.” he nods his head back to the people scuffling about in frilly dresses and skirts around the main party center. “so moral-less, so demanding. so many things i don’t want to be.”

you shake your head now, “i don’t think you could ever be one of them.” to anyone else this would be an insult, being apart of the capitol was little girls and boys dreams. to live so lavishly and carefree. but once you’ve seen it all, you just want to be by the ocean- at peace, unbothered with those who meant the most to you. “you’re much too good for that.”

finnick believes you, it’s like all he’s needed his whole life was your words that had no hint of second meaning. only pure, true, clean. “if it means anything, i know you couldn’t be anyways. no matter how many bows they put in your hair.” he laughs again, that charming chuckle that sends a butterfly to your stomach. “you have a good heart, i hope that it stays that way.”

it’s all so honest , the whole interaction. but you’ve been away from your own party far too long and you’re almost scared to upset people. “i have to go. i’ll see you around, finnick.” his name is foreign to your tongue almost, but its welcome.

finnick then stands quickly, “when will i see you again?” he almost looks worried.

“soon. we live in the same village after all.”

-

inspired by my favorite, @mrsnancywheeler ‘s fic

masterlist

inbox open!

[underoospeterparker]

Omg you write finnick so perfectly!! I was wondering if you could write something about finnick dating somone with POTS syndrome and how he reacts to it? 🫶🫶

thank you that is the best compliment! and thanks for requesting!! i think this is one of the best things I've written tbh

fyi: POTS (postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome) is a medical condition that can lead to an increased heart rate when standing up. it can cause lightheadedness, dizziness or fainting.

finnick odair x reader with POTS, set during catching fire (reader volunteered for annie instead of mags), 0.6k words

You were sitting on the sofa, curled up in Finnick's arms while the two of you rewatched Ceasar's interviews with the tributes for the 75th Hunger Games. Finnick played with loose strands from your ponytail while you fixated on the television, despite your oncoming headache and lightheadedness.

"You okay, lovely?" Finnick asked, concerned. He had always been sweet to you, a fact that hadn't changed when you'd told him you'd been diagnosed with POTS a couple years ago, and still didn't change when you had volunteered for Annie in the place of Mags. In fact, he'd grown even more protective over you.

You nodded, but the movement made your vision blurry. Pausing, you tried to turn around to Finnick. "I don't know," you whispered, a slightly panicked tone in your voice.

He frowned, and he shifted under from you, trying not to rock you too much. "That's okay. Can you just stay here for me, just for a second, honey? I'll go grab you some water."

When you gave him a thumbs up, he got up quickly, resting a hand on your shoulder for a second before heading into the kitchen. It took him a while to return, or at least, it seemed that way to you.

You grew worried, anxiety building up in your throat even though logically, you knew nothing would have happened to him. "Finnick?" you called, a croak in your voice. When he didn't respond, or you didn't hear it, you got up and immediately regretted your decision.

He rushed into the living room just in time to set down the glass of water and catch you as you fell, almost hitting your head on the edge of the coffee table. "Shit," he murmured, the expletive hot under his breath.

Finnick placed you gently back onto the sofa, a pillow under your head to keep it elevated. "Honey, c'mon," he said, his hands desperately cupping your cheeks. "Wake up for me, yeah?"

You blinked your eyes open, straining against the bright lights and he took notice of that, quickly shutting them off and returning back to your side. "Hi," he whispered, clearly worried about you.

"Hi," you whispered back, attempting to sit up. Finnick pushed you down with a firm hand to your chest. "No," he said sternly, a tone in his voice that dared you to defy him. You did not.

He reached to the table where he'd set down the glass and lifted it up to your mouth, watching intently as you gulped down a couple of sips. "That's it," he said, moving the cup when you finished.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asked. Finnick looked distraught. You felt the strangest urge to comfort him.

You gave him the biggest smile you could muster, and since you were exhausted, it wasn't big at all. He looked almost constipated as he reciprocated the smile. "I'm okay," you muttered, a small reassurance in Finnick's eyes.

He let a breath of air he'd been holding release, and he climbed onto the sofa next to you, pulling you into his chest. You gladly went inside, feeling the remnants of your dizziness dissolve as you pressed yourself deeper into his body.

Finnick reached his hands up to your hair, kneading gently at your scalp. His movements were soothing and they helped calm down your aching headache. When you sighed in pleasure, he let out a surprised laugh, muffled by your hair.

Soon, you fell asleep, accompanied by the sound of his deep breathing and his soft scratching of your hair. You dreamed of the sea, the ocean, and Finnick, and you clung onto the dream for as long as you could, because you knew that when you would wake up, everything would be different.

[mrsnancywheeler]

the lakes (4) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

previous chapter / next chapter

midnight rain

2.6k words

warnings: angst, fluff, mentions and allusions of trafficking and sexualization of reader/finnick by capitol, manipulation of someone's feelings, allusions of past break up, allusions to death/violence, playful banter, no use of y/n, UNEDITED, me trying to write peeta, trauma, allusions to mental illness, survivors guilt

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The couch in all its neon greeness had been the same over the last 6 years. With the same garishly neon blue pillows in obnoxious shapes and as you stared at it it brought back when you and Conway had anxiously sat on it. When you began nervously sucking up to him, playing his sensitive side.

“I'm worried about you." Finnick popped a grape into his mouth as he sat on one of the velvety seats at the table. Honesty was his new approach, to tell you exactly what he was thinking especially if it was about you to force you to do the same. You were only a couple hours into the morning and this was evident.

“Why, Finnick?" You sighed, not in annoyance, well maybe a little bit in annoyance, but mostly the sigh had been one of love.

“I know we've both been back before, but not as tributes. You're going to start thinking about your games again as we go through the same steps. I'm worried you won't stay grounded."

“Yeah, well, I have you and as long as I can be in your arms I'll be okay."

He nodded observing you carefully, to make sure you weren't repressing anything deep within you, but he seemed satisfied for now. “It's not just you, I'm sure we're all going to be thinking a lot about the first time we were in this position." Finnick shrugged, grabbing another handful of grapes.

“Are you gonna be able to stay grounded?" You asked, putting down the knife you were using to butter your toast.

"I've managed this long.” He smirked, leaning forward, "Plus I've got you, angel.” 

You rolled your eyes,"You're so cheesy.”

"What? So it's cheesy when I do it, but not when you do it?”

"Exactly.” You laughed. "Second day of married life and you're already catching on!”

"I'm a fast learner.” He raised his eyebrows, grinning.

The door opened and in came your escort. “Good morning, you two! Glad to see you've broken no more glasses, Finnick." She tutted, her dress was an eyesore to look at. You loved color, but her clashing bright ones made your head hurt.

“Nope, I've remembered my manners, Koalema.” 

"Well that's good! Oh look, we're so close to arrival.” She kept babbling about something probably nonsensical. Koalema, why had you never been able to recall that name? You felt bad for not remembering, but it was so hard when she was flurry of chaos and overstimulation. 

Finnick stood up and held his hand out for you, “Well here we go, angel. Be ready to put on that beloved smile and have those tears ready to spill. They love that about you." You took his hand and pulled yourself out of your seat.

“You don't need any instruction from me, always the charmer."

“Yeah, well I've had longer." The two of you prepared to greet the vultures waiting to eat up upon arrival. Standing in front of the window, hands tightly clasped together ready to gracefully swoop up your audience in their desired fantasy for the final time. 

To smile at the people who had taken everything from you and completely controlled every aspect in your life. How people saw you, your relationship with Finnick, your relationship with yourself and your body, anything that you could think of they had somehow pulled strings in it. All of your life was under their thumb and you realized the lengths you would go to stop that, what would life be like when all you had left was memories that never needed to be reopened?

              𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It was beautiful. There was more food than you'd ever be able to eat and not a single scent of the salty seafood you were used to. Bright colors etched into your brain and everything was so modern, so clean. You had no idea what you'd expected, but it blew you away.

“This is where you two will be staying on our way to the Capitol! Isn't it beautiful? No expense has been spared, District 4 has a pretty good reputation of course and we'd like to keep that! So be in awe, but not so much that you forget about that." The garish woman said so cheerfully you were convinced you misheard her.

“No we wouldn't want that." Conway muttered and the woman gave him a sharp smile.

“Make yourselves at home, I do believe the two of you are very lucky and get the one, the only Finnick Odair as one of your mentors this year. Let me check on that and possibly, Odine." Her heels clicked out the room which inexplicably opened just as she stood in front of it.

Home. You'd never see home again, never swim in the comfort of its waters, see your family, lay in the warm sand. Yes, you would if you could win this, but you couldn't. And Finnick, how were you supposed to think about strategy when he would be right there?

“Are you okay?" A soft hand landed on your shoulder and Conway's deep, brown eyes spoke as much comfort as they could for you. Of course you weren't okay, how could you be? But saying that wouldn't endear him into you, so you melted into his touch.

You shook your head, closing your eyes, and sniffling. “What about you? How was your family?" 

“Well at least I'm here with you and they'll be okay, at least they have each other too." Yes, at least you had someone you knew, yet also didn't that make it more difficult? He didn't ask about your family though, maybe if you kept a tally you'd feel less guilty by the end.

“Yeah, I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have someone I trusted. I'm just so scared, Conway.” With that you'd erupted into tears and he pulled his arms around you. They weren't stiff, but weren't comforting, not that you really needed his comfort.

“It's okay, we've got each other."

You already hated yourself.

With that the automatic door slid open, but you didn't tear yourself away. You knew who it would be, but he wouldn't believe you if you jumped from him. So you slowly moved your hands to wipe your face and made your voice shake as you let out your sweetest, “Thank you."

He nodded eagerly, he didn't say of course but you could see it in his eyes. A warm, but brisk voice interrupted the moment. “Glad you've already decided to ally with each other, makes it much more difficult when the tributes won't talk to one another." Finnick’s honeycomb sweet voice finally drew your eyes to his.

“Yes, it's an easier angle to work with." A tall woman beside him agreed, you recognized her from the screens, Ondine Afron, she sounded more tired then you'd remembered.

“We’ll be your mentors, teaching you with our experience the best ways to survive, how to get sponsors, and whatever else could help." Finnick grabbed a sugar cube from the bowl by the teapot, examining it before tossing it into his mouth.

Yes and him being a mentor could throw a wrench in your plans. Conway had heard every bit of the emotional rollercoaster that had been Finnick Odair, how could you convince him you loved him instead when the man of all your affections was right there.

“Nice to meet you both." Conway said curtly, he let himself glare slightly at the other man. Usually you'd scold him for this, you weren't the type to want tension, but you needed him to trust you. So you leaned into his side, looking up at him as innocently as you could. Willingly him with every molecule to believe you and for Finnick to leave you alone enough to make your performance more outstanding.

Later that night when you'd wandered the train's halls in a nightgown with a softness like you'd never experienced before, you'd passed by Finnick who had nothing but praise for the plan we could tell you were hatching. Of course he could tell, he knew every morsel of your being. 

“You're so smart, angel, the way you came up with that in a matter of seconds. Being good on your feet like that could save you in the arena." He'd whispered, softly above the mechanical noises your brain had hyper fixated on since your arrival. 

“Don't call me that." You muttered.

He sighed, looking down, “I'm sorry. I'm just-"

“Yeah, I know."

“You know I'd do anything to keep you safe, even if I haven't always been able to tell you what and now I've failed, but here you are, I mean the way you manipulated your eyes like that was brilliant. The audience is going to be under your finger just keep doing what you're doing." Suddenly his hands were around yours, a movement so familiar it made you shudder.

“Finnick, please don't." You tugged your hands, half-heartedly, not really letting them escape his loose grip.

“I'm sorry, I know you don't understand why I hurt you, but it'll all make sense once you win this thing."

“Yeah, sure." You rolled your eyes, this was a tiring waltz between the two of you. Him claiming it was to protect you while you couldn't know from what, even now when you were on the brink of inevitable death.

“I promise." He stilled all his shifting and movements, sea green eyes boring so deeply into the depths of your heart there was no choice but to trust him. You couldn't help yourself and leaned in, delicately letting your lips graze his cheek.

“I have to go find his room. You know, do what I can." There was slight laughter behind your tone and Finnick nodded, softly smiling.

"My smart girl.” He muttered, glowing in the lamp light. I miss you, your brain screamed as you gazed at him, suddenly the tears you were trying to force up to sell your act were easier to conjure up. So you left him in the dim lights of the train car to convince Conway of how badly you needed his comfort now that you were away from home.

               𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“Secret wedding is all anyone can talk about." Your designer, Cambrie, sounded like bright citrus, drinking orange juice for breakfast. “Especially those seaweed rings, so bolstering for my ideas to run their course!" She smiled, clearly full of anticipation for her idea to be revealed to you.

Truthfully you couldn't care less about it, you wanted to be back at Finnick's side. As the years passed being alone with people from the Capitol no matter who they were or what they intended nauseated you. “Oh come on, Cambrie, I'm going to die of anticipation!" You proclaimed with as much drama as you could, pouting.

"Oh you're adorable.” She clapped like you were some sort of performing dog and pinched your cheeks, actually pinched your cheeks. The infantilization made you want to retreat but that would never be an option. “Reignbaugh was going to go with a fishing net to look for Finnick to pay homage to the District of course, and similarly with you I was thinking to draw it together, but the seaweed combined to call back to the rings. Everyone will eat it up, and oh I have a lovely pearl headdress you are going to be stunning!” 

You gushed to her, but internally felt your stomach turn. This really meant she was going to try and show as much as you off as she could. Of course this turned out to be true. The outfit could have been beautiful if in reality it wasn't so dehumanizing. The seaweed running through the fishing net dress that adorned you barely covered your nipples and much of your body was clearly visible to those who stood close enough.

"And of course for the Capitol Princess.” Cambrie announced, placing her elegantly made crown, you had to admit it was beautiful. The way each pearl shined between the seaweed. Although you did think the seaweed usage was over the top, the choice of it for the rings hadn't really been significant, it was just there in a place you both loved. It was marketable though. Her and your other stylists had also gone to great effort to make your eyes look as watery as possible, even adding pearly effects to make it look like you were crying them. It was too all too much, but you oohh’d and awed which they adored you even more for. 

“Don't you look handsome." You remarked all too sarcastically as you approached Finnick and his bare chest. 

“Oh just smile and wave, angel, they're savoring the last time they'll see either of us like this.” It was lighthearted and he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, but it did comfort you. Eventually your body would simply be yours again." There she is.” He whispered, your eyes followed him to her, Katniss Everdeen.

“Well you better go make your introduction then."

“Well ladies first." He gestured, expectantly.

“No, I don't think my first introduction should be like this." You pointed up and down the outfit. "You go, it'll seem perfectly on brand for you.”

Finnick nodded, you could tell he had more he wanted to say, to lecture on but there wasn't much time. You looked around the room, toying with the fishnet nervously before you heard someone call your name and looked in the direction.

"Didn't expect you to be the type with nerves.” A voice quickly caught your attention. Peeta Mellark.

"Only at the worst times.” You grimaced, shaking your head. 

Peeta smiled, "Well I'm glad to know I'm not the only one who gets them.” 

"Oh far from it, I bet you 75% of the people in here are trying not to throw up right now.” 

“Which one's are fine then?" He stood by you observing the occupants.

“While obviously it's neither of us, I'm thinking District 11 too many years in for either of them to be worrying."

“1 & 2?"

“Bingo!" You announced, tilting your head.

“Surprised you didn't say Katniss." He remarked.

"Surprised you didn't say Finnick.” You countered.

"The thrills of pretending to not be shaking.” He shook his head with a smirk.

"Masters of that game. In fact she looks like she might just kill him now.” You tried not to laugh at how Katniss looked at Finnick who you knew was trying desperately to work his charms.

"Well, I'd best go save him then.”

"Oh, yes it would only be mildly entertaining.”

"It was nice meeting you, considering the circumstances.” Peeta exuded kindness in a way you could only aspire too, it genuinely hurt your soul.

“Yes, a mind numbing extravaganza thrown here would have been much more enjoyable, as horrendous as that is to say." 

"I only ever attended one and just from that, I ever so gravely attest to that. I better go break the two up before she attacks.”

"Oh please do, can't have him squabbling already.” Peeta smiled and soon enough Finnick was stalking back your way.

"She'll come around.” He assured before you could even open your mouth as the two of you stepped into the carriage.

"I'm sure she will. Peeta and I could feel the tension from a room away.”

"Everybody likes me.”

"I'm sure talking like that is exactly why she doesn't.” You nudged him playfully.

"Oh shut up.” He rolled his eyes.

"That's no way to talk to your wife, Mr. Odair.” 

“I apologize, Mrs. Odair." He pulled you in for a kiss just as the carriage came into the bright sunlight, the screaming proved its effectiveness to you. It was sure to leave an impact on them when they looked back on the tribute parade. 

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you all again for your continued reading and support, especially since I feel like this is so slow paced but there's so much I want to get in there. if you enjoyed feedback, comments, likes, reblogs are all much appreciated, as always my inbox is wide open for any thoughts y'all have! so excited for getting into the training parts and some rebellion planning in the next part. love y'all so much, thank you again 💕💋

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[motelofmermaids]

based off of this request! (I have never written something like this before, so i hope y’all enjoy!)

what i would imagine finnick odair like as a dad.

༄ after the first few months of bringing your son home, it was stressful. there was no doubt that you and finnick had your moments where you wanted to scream into a pillow and wander off to a week long slumber. but when finnick would be sitting in a chair, gently rubbing his pinky finger up and down your baby’s nose to calm him down, you’d be awake as if you’ve never missed a single moment of sleep. you could watch him forever, and finnick would look up at you with a proud smile that he got the once screaming baby to fall asleep.

❥ around the age of three, finnick would start taking him to the beach to collect seashells and play in the water. you’d bring extra blankets and little snacks you made—you ate the scraps in the kitchen, because you couldn’t help yourself, you were a lot more hungry with the constant chaos of moving. your son had made you more active than you could have ever thought, despite the fact you’ve been in the hunger games twice. instead of saving yourself, though, you and finnick had the responsibility of saving your toddler… especially when finnick one time found him up on the wardrobe in his room, crying and unable to get down.

༄ by the age of seven, finnick introduced him to fishing. he gifted a small trident to him on his fifth birthday, but you thought that was a little too soon for a kid to handle a weapon like that. with his own trident, finnick would be in the water with him. “aim right there! you can do it, take it easy now,” he’d say, like the proud father he’s become. sometimes you couldn’t help the little giggles that came out when finnick would say the most dad thing you’ve ever heard. he’s even started making the jokes. “finnick… that joke doesn’t even make sense,” you’d laugh out with a hand over your mouth. to which your over enthusiastic son would say, “but dad’s funny! he’s the funniest man alive!” and you and finnick would smile at each other with a look of ‘i love you.’

❥ “i can’t believe we made someone like him,” you started, head resting on finnick’s shoulder as you watched your 10 year old son sleep. “we made the best versions of ourself into him,” finnick whispered out, thumb gently caressing your hand. “i’m so glad he will never get to experience what we did, he’s allowed to be,” you mumbled with a wobble in your voice, “free.”

༄ when your teenager brought his first significant other home, you and finnick were more than delighted to make a feast. finnick wouldn’t pry, but he’d still be a dad. he’d ask questions, crack a few jokes here and there—which he’s improved quite a bit over the years. he’d hold your hand all throughout dinner, give his son little winks here and there. he’d offer privacy to the young couple to see the stars on the beach with a bottle of wine, to which you kicked his leg under the table because ‘he’s too young.’

❥ when you and finnick were in your sixties, waiting for your son to arrive later in the evening, you’d look back on all the memory albums you’ve created. “i’m so proud of the man he turned into,” finnick would say, “i’m so proud of the person we raised.” you gently nodded, fingers gently brushing over the photos. “i don’t think i could have ever done it without you… you grounded me. you turned me into a good person,” you sighed. reminiscing on the life before snow had died, you hated it. that you were just a kid turned into a cold-blooded murderer. “hey, hey…,” finnick repositioned to look at you, “we might’ve not been able to be free, but that doesn’t mean we weren’t good. we fought, and we gave our son the best life imaginable.” you nodded, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek. he was right, your son is living the best life he possibly could, due to the both of you.