Imbrued
imbrued

(finnick odair x reader)
cw: stab wound, vomit, mentions of prostitution, murder, blood, death
link to the request → reader and finnick are in the quell together and reader gets injured. finnick does everything he can to protect her
open to submissions/asks !!
You never expected to be back.
Why would you? After winning the 68th Hunger Games, you thought you were free from the torment, but that was never the case. After winning and gaining the favor of the capitol, you were immediately thrust into the spotlight, being sold off to those who could afford you. You were given a slot each week on television, showing off baking recipes that you had no interest in making.
And now, your name was called once more from the pool of victors, placing you back to where you started when you were just sixteen years old, only this time with your boyfriend Finnick by your side.
The events of the weeks leading up to the start of the Quarter Quell passed in a blur. Things only start registering with you when you’re finally in the arena, eyes searching frantically around your surroundings to try and figure out what’s going on.
You can see water immediately in front of you with trees just beyond it, which is more than ideal since you’re from District 4. In your first games, you had to trek through fields of tall grass for miles before there was a place to take shelter.
After you find your bearings on the platform, you immediately begin to search for Finnick. You spot him across the water, the distance upsetting you, but Johanna is on your other side which is slightly comforting.
When the gong sounds, you immediately head for the Cornucopia. You thrived in the bloodbath in your last games and you plan to do so again. Finnick didn’t want you to put yourself at risk, but you have a reputation to uphold. You know the only way that you’re going to get any sponsors is if you put on a show.
Due to your strong swimming skills, you and Finnick get to the golden Cornucopia first. You barely have time to send a smile his way before you’re grabbing weapons- small knives to strap onto your body and a metal spear to hold. You feel a sick sense of satisfaction when you’re forced to use your newly acquired spear on another tribute, proud that you protected Finnick from a man that was going to kill him.
It’s only when you are finally forced away from the Cornucopia by Finnick’s strong hold on your upper arm that you have the time to talk to him. You can tell by the slight frown on his face that he’s not very happy with you.
“What were you thinking? I told you not to go to the Cornucopia.” He’s still holding onto your arm as you make your way through the jungle, Katniss and Peeta in front of you.
You roll your eyes and smile at him. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
Finnick only frowns at you more. “I’m trying to protect you, here. Something bad could have happened.”
You actually laugh at that. “I know you remember my games, Finn. The Cornucopia was mine in the last games. Don’t worry so much about me.”
He sighs, but drops the subject. The two of you fall silent.
The next few hours are terrible. Peeta’s near death, the acid fog, the monkey mutts that killed the poor morphling from District 6 and claimed your spear. The Quell is moving at a much quicker pace than any of the games have in the past and it’s worrying you.
Things only start to look up after Katniss uses Wiress’ cryptic words to discover that the arena is set up like a clock.
Finnick, ever inquisitive, says, “I’d like to go to the Cornucopia and watch. Just to make sure we’re right about the clock.” You all decide that it’s a pretty good idea and walk the short stretch over to the golden horn.
The others begin to talk mindlessly as you and Finnick branch off into your own conversation while you patrol the border of the Cornucopia. “It’s interesting that there’s nothing but weapons here this year. They’re really trying to get this over with,” you comment.
Finnick nods. “They want us dead. Good thing we know how to fish,” he smirks.
You shake your head in slight amusement, carefully toeing closer to everyone else. As you get closer to the group, you look up from your feet to see Gloss creeping up on the rock wedges, getting closer to an unsuspecting Wiress.
“No!” You scream, pulling a small dagger from your belt. “Wiress, move!” You try to close the gap between you and her.
But it’s too late. You watch in horror as Wiress’ throat gets easily cut by Gloss. Without much thought, you finish the sprint to Gloss, your blade swiftly leaving your hand and ending up in his neck. His eyes widen as he grabs at the handle but before doesn’t pull it out, instead he jumps towards you.
You almost don’t realize what happens. As Gloss lands on top of your body, the same knife he used to kill Wiress ends up in your lower abdomen. You scream, but in the chaos of trying to kill the rest of the careers along with the rapid shifting of the Cornucopia and surrounding waters, the sound gets lost.
It’s only after Finnick grabs your hand and begins to drag you off the island that the reality settles in. You were stabbed in the abdomen and you are losing blood. You put your hand over the wound and keep walking.
“Are you okay?” Finnick asks you once you are back on the beach. “Are you hurt?”
You debate lying for a second. The last thing anyone needs right now is another injured tribute. Beetee is barely hanging on as it is and Peeta is constantly slowing down the group, there doesn’t need to be another liability. But Finnick knows you and he would know if you lied to him.
“I think Gloss stabbed me,” is what ends up coming out of your mouth. You almost wish you lied when you see Finnick’s reaction.
His face twists up in a look of sheer panic, pupils blowing. His hands run across your body until they meet your own hand, holding firmly onto the meaty flesh of your lower torso. “Here?” He asks, gripping your red fingers. “This is where he got you?”
Tears welling up in your eyes, you nod. You can’t help but feel like a disappointment. You thought you would be able to absolutely dominate in these games based on your last ones, but you completely overlooked the fact that everyone else here is a victor, too.
“Okay, baby, let me look,” he gently commands. His eyes turn even wilder when you shake your head. “I need to look. I can’t help you if I can’t see it.”
Your hand drops from your side. Finnick wastes no time in unzipping your jumpsuit, pulling it below your sports bra and to your hips. He bites his lip as he assesses the damage. With a gentle hand, he prods at the tender flesh. A second later, you push him away and throw up.
You can hear him cursing behind you as you continue to retch. You don’t know why you’re sick, but you know that it cannot be good.
When your sudden sickness is over and you turn back to Finnick to assure him that you don’t know what that was, that you’re fine, you see the rest of the group staring at you, Katniss hands Finnick a mound of what looks like moss in one hand and a small tube.
“I know this isn’t the best option, but it’ll help. I’m sure someone will send us something better soon,” he sends you a small, still panicked smile.
You just nod your head. You’re embarrassed and tired and you want everyone to stop staring at you. You allow Finnick to lead you to where the spile has been hammered into a tree, rinse your wound, apply the medicine, and pack it with the moss. After a few minutes, you feel as good as new.
“Thank you, Finn,” you smile at him. He wraps his arms around you tightly.
“Of course,” he breathes into your hair. “Anything for you. I can’t believe I almost lost you.”
You press a kiss on his collarbone. “That was nothing. I’m not going anywhere.”
“We need to get out of here. You need a real doctor.”
You nod into his shoulder, not too worried anymore. “Soon.”
“Soon,” he repeats back.
And he keeps his promise. The rest of the plan plays out, although not perfectly. You and Finnick are both evacuated and he makes sure you see a doctor, for both the stab in your stomach and the gash in your arm where you cut the tracker out.
You know there’s still more to do, but you feel safe knowing Finnick will be there to protect you.
-
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More Posts from Queuestarter
powerful and cold president! coriolanus who is feared by the rest of his colleagues until one day his wife visits him at work and she’s all sunshine and rainbows basically the exact opposite and she plops right down into his lap and everyone is like ???????? bc they forget snow has a private life and would’ve never expected him to allow- let alone welcome- something like that and the whole rest of the time his wife is there everyone’s just ogling at them bc it’s their first time seeing snow actually enjoy someone else’s presence
i love this concept!!
like imagine being more naive and innocent so you never really catch on to the stares that you get when you go visit coryo at work!! i could see you always trying new things - trying to find the hobby that suits you and will fill up all your free time since coryo wants you to be his pretty little housewife <3 - and somehow you stumble on baking.
you try lots of different things but always seem to mess up on cookies! each time you bring them to coryo in his office though he’ll eat as many as he can get through and pretend they’re the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. it’s not hard given his past; food is food to him. he just wants you to be happy so he’ll play along and has you believing your the best cook on the planet. one day one of his coworkers managed to snag one off of the plate and coryo watched as he spat it out everywhere and is like mr president these taste like trash?? let’s say he didn’t last long at his job after that.
but imagine how excited you’d be when you finally, finally get it right! you know yourself that they’re the best you’ve ever made and you have to get them to coryo as soon as possible so they’re still warm. and in you go in your pretty little sundress with your baked goods and coryo is just so uncharacteristically smiley because of how excited and pleased you are. sits you up on his desk in front of him and listens to you ramble on about what you did differently this time and what you’ll try next! in between bites of his cookies he’s pressing kisses to your knuckles and everyone is just watching through the glass at the phenomenon that is president coriolanus snow with his love <3
mirrors

(finnick odair x reader)
cw: mentions of sexual abuse and prostitution, talks of self hatred, ambiguous ending
→ reader comforts finnick when he's having a rough morning
open to submissions/asks !!
You know what kind of day it’s going to be as soon as you wake up.
Finnick’s not in bed anymore, which is unusual for him. He usually likes to stay in bed until well after you both have woken up. He likes to hold you against his chest, likes to whisper in your ear about everything and nothing. He likes knowing you’re there.
So when you wake up during sunrise and don’t see him next to you in bed, you can instantly tell something is wrong. You’re not worried or hesitant, you are more upset than anything.
Both you and Finnick have experienced the Hunger Games, so you’re no stranger to the nightmares that stem from it and bud out into real life. But when Finnick has nightmares, he tends to want to stay in bed rather than leave it, so you know that his terrors must not be what woke him up.
You sigh, getting up from the bed yourself. You smooth out the sheets and the duvet before grabbing your and Finnick’s mugs with old tea dregs in it to deposit in the kitchen sink. A pang of sadness hits you when you don’t spot Finnick at all during that time.
After throwing on one of Finnick’s knit sweaters and making two fresh mugs of tea, you set out to find your boyfriend, once and for all. It doesn’t take much looking- you find him sitting on the back deck overlooking the water.
“Finnick,” you say quietly so as not to startle him. “I brought you some tea.”
He doesn’t turn to look at you but by the way he flinches you know he heard you. You frown at his subtle action.
“Go back inside. It’s too cold out here for you,” he eventually says after a long moment of silence. “I’ll be in soon.”
You don’t listen, instead choosing to sit on the step directly next to him, placing his mug on the table in front of you. “The tea will warm us both up.”
He finally turns his head to look at you. You try not to stare at the sight of the bags under his eyes or the way his frown has left a crease on his cheek.
“What are you even doing here?” He asks, catching you off guard.
You don’t let the question faze you for too long before you respond easily, trying not to set him off. “I wanted to see you.”
He shakes his head before returning his gaze back to the water. “Not here, here. What are you doing with me?”
This question does cause you to raise your eyebrows. You set your mug of tea down next to his. “I’m here because I love you. You are the most perfect man in the world to me.”
You catch the way his face seems to melt at your words, how tears immediately come pouring from his eyes. Despite how hard it is, you don’t comfort him in fear of making his breakdown worse.
“I’m not. There’s nothing perfect about me. I’m dirty and used up.” He buries his face into his hands.
You’re speechless. You and Finnick have been together for a long time, and while he’s had moments where he feels like he’s not enough or that what the Capitol put him through made him less than, he’s never said anything like this. After a moment of processing his words, you try to soothe him by rubbing a hand up and down his back.
“Everything about you is perfect to me, Finn. And you are not dirty,” you say vehemently. “What they’re putting you through has nothing to do with you and everything to do with them.”
With his face still buried, Finnick cries out, “then why am I like this? Why can’t I live with it?”
You grimace. Every word he says resonates with you. While you were never sought after in the Capitol after your games in the same way Finnick is, you’ve seen the aftermath of the attention. You can’t do anything to change the past or what’s to come, but you can try to make things more bearable for him.
Afterall, he’s done so much for you.
“Can you tell me what happened, honey?” You dare to ask, hoping he’ll let you in.
He lifts his head up and turns back to face you. Your heart breaks at the sight of his watery eyes and red cheeks. “I just… looked in the mirror and hated what I saw. I hate my face for what it’s caused me.”
At this point you can’t help your own tears. “Finn,” you whisper. “There’s nothing wrong with you. There’s nothing wrong with your face, or your personality, or anything about you. Those people are the ones that are wrong. The people in the Capitol who are too evil to see the hurt that they’re causing.”
He nods. “Yeah.”
Not knowing what else to do, you wrap your arm around his shoulder and hold him until he tells you to stop. And when he does want to get up and go inside, you still say nothing as you make oatmeal for the two of you.
There’s nothing you can do or say to stop his torment. All you can do is promise to always be by his side.
-
───★



𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐜𝐬.
𓇼 finnick odair who snorts with tears of laughter welling in the corners of his eyes when he laughs too hard. when you two share jokes and bring up funny moments you had together.
𖦹 finnick odair who loves flustering you with pickup lines and snarky comments, but covers his face with the palms of his hands when you get him back. behind those hands is a pretty, dimpled smile and blushed cheeks that scream 'i love you.'
𓇼 finnick odair who finds comfort in holding your hand. tracing little shapes on your knuckles with his calloused yet soft fingertips.
𖦹 finnick odair who bought you a surfboard that matches with his for your birthday. he customized it to fit you, with little drawings of pearls and sea stars that remind him of you along it. when not in use, it's on full display in your shared bedroom as your prized possession.
𓇼 finnick odair who loves play fighting with you. who lets you jump on him, giggling, and every now and then knock him down. who lets you straddle over him and playfully punch his shoulder. it makes him happy to see you having fun, not to mention he has fun too, laughing and manhandling you off of him.
𖦹 finnick odair who always wants you there with him when he's taking a bath or shower. he finds comfort in water itself, so it's only fitting that he gets to have his pretty girl with him. he always finds a way to make it fun when you two bathe, sitting on opposite ends of the tub and shaping little creatures out of the bubbles.
𓇼 finnick odair who can't even pretend he doesn't like it when you wear his clothes. it makes his heart swoop when he sees you walking around in one of his tee-shirts, especially when in public.
𖦹 finnick odair who randomly picks you up to kiss your lips whenever he wants. you two could be in a meeting in thirteen and he'll wrap your legs around his waist to get as much of your lips as he wants. it causes glares from haymitch and coin, but does he really care if you're right there with him?
𓇼 finnick odair who will always be there to be a shoulder to cry on. more than that, even. he'll comfort you until the end of time. finnick will always and forever be there to support you, help you after your nightmares, to kiss your forehead with passion and wrap has arms around your shaking body, acting as a shield from whatever horrors were brought by the capitol.
───★
ʚ © this subject is copyright to liseytopia. : do not copy, translate, or steal my writing. ɞ
daybreak

(johanna mason x reader)
cw: none- just two girls in love
link to the request → grumpy x sunshine during training for the quarter quell
open to submissions/asks
You watch from across the room as Johanna strips off her training uniform and begins to rub oil all over herself. You shake your head in amusement and refocus on the conversion you’re having with your district mate and close friend, Beetee.
“I wonder what the reason they put the forcefield up this year is,” he comments offhandedly while observing a piece of wood as he attempts to figure out how to start a fire. You sit opposite him, not having much luck either.
You didn’t win your first games by fighting or learning survival skills. You won by appealing to the audience.
“Maybe someone attacked them. Or maybe one of the Gamemakers fell over the balcony,” you giggle, throwing down your two sticks as Katniss walks over to you.
You’ve never met her, but of course you know all about her. Who doesn’t at this point?
“Hello,” you friendlily greet her. She stands over you and Beetee awkwardly. “Do you know how to make a fire with two sticks? We’re awful at it.”
She sits down at the station with you. “Yeah, but I haven’t done it in a while. Let me see…” she grabs some sticks and begins to rub them together.
For the next ten minutes that you three spend at the station, a friendly rapport grows. You talk about many things, like the forcefield, productivity in your districts, and a few other topics. Eventually, she starts asking if you’re going to join any alliances.
“I think so,” you say hopefully. “I know me and Beetee are going to stick together. Johanna, too.”
“Johanna?” Katniss asks, raising her eyebrows.
You smile, finding your girl across the room. She’s arguing about something with Finnick, shoving his shoulder and getting shoved back in response.
“Yeah, she’s great. She’s just really, really great.” You can feel a blush growing on your cheeks which you hide behind your hands.
“I didn’t feel that way when I met her.” You furrow your eyebrows at Katniss.
“Oh. While I’m going to go see if I can try to make a lure with Mags. Beetee, want to join?” You want to be nice considering she doesn’t know about your relationship with Johanna and your girlfriend does come off as rude sometimes.
“Oh, yes. That could be very helpful,” he comments, getting up from his seat. “Thank you for helping us, Katniss. Maybe we would keep up that trend in the arena?”
Katniss nods, getting up as well. “I should see what Peeta is doing.”
You don’t talk to Katniss again until the next day of training.
You’re sparring with one of the trainers, having decided that it might actually be important this time around to work on your physical skills rather than just relying on your brains and public appeal.
When you finish the spar and are bent over trying to catch your breath, you feel a hand cup your ass. You let out a gasp of surprise.
“Johanna!” You shriek as you return to an upright position. Ignoring the shocked gazes of the people around you, you wrap your arms around her neck and pull her in for a quick kiss. “You can’t just scare me like that when I have a deadly weapon in my hands!”
She looks beautiful with her signature smirk on her face. “I just wanted to let you know how good you were doing. And let everyone know that you’re mine.”
You giggle uncontrollably, holding onto her for a few more seconds. With one final kiss to her smiling lips that end up more on her teeth than anything, you back away from the sparring station to allow other people to enter, namely Finnick and Katniss. Katniss has a look of disbelief on her face.
You say a quick ‘hello’ to them before Beetee is calling your name from across the room. “Can you identify the metal that comprises this beam? It seems to be steel but the density is all wrong.”
As you walk across the room to help out Beetee, you can hear Johanna talk to the two others, none of them being too quiet.
“What a woman,” she says, causing you to smile once more.
“You two are…? Her?” Katniss practically hisses.
“Why not?” Finnick teases. “Johanna needs something good in her life.”
“Shut up!” You turn your eyes back towards your girlfriend just in time to see her try to knock Finnick over.
This is what it means to be in love
-
lionfish, seahorses, and dolphins, oh my! | f. odair

masterlist
anon's request: noo bc i've been thinking about this for a while (all the time) imagine the reader from district 8 who's with finnick always sewing random fish patterns into his clothes or any cloth-related items bc of his district!!!
warnings: just some cutesy fluff, very very mild suggestive themes
notes: i couldn't not write this request it's so cute. very rushed because i've got another fic in the works ;) stay tuned my beautiful readers <3
word count: 800
Finnick would always invite girlfriend!reader to District Four because this man has major attachment issues, so you practically live at his house and are both attached to the hip. And one day he would find this little lionfish embroidered onto the cuff of his favourite sweater, which oddly resembles the colour of his hair.
His first instinct would be to call out to you. "Sweetheart?"
And you would respond with a "Hm?" from another room in the house, sneakily sewing something onto another item of his clothing. He would be curiously inspecting the little creature that had taken up residence on his shirt as he padded through the house to your whereabouts.
Just as he entered the room you were in, he would begin, "Why is there a—"
He'd cut himself short as he looked up and saw you sitting comfortably in a lounge chair, legs tucked beneath your body, a soft, knitted blanket draped over your lap, and a sewing kit lying on the side table. In your hands were a pair of his pants.
One of his eyebrows raised. "You've got my pants."
You looked up to find him standing in the doorway. "I do," you replied.
He took a step closer. "And you're sewing them."
"I am."
Another step. "And there's a fish sewed onto my sweater..."
You simply smiled at him—an adorable proud little smile. God, you looked so cute he genuinely felt to urge to lean down and pinch your cheeks between his fingers, but then he remembered he was your boyfriend, not your grandmother.
"Not that I'm not in absolute awe of your sewing abilities but—" He chuckled, shaking his head— "why?"
You shrugged, piercing a sewing needle through the waistband of the pants in your lap. "You're from District Four; fishes are kind of your thing, are they not? Plus, it's pretty," you said, then your voice lowered to a soft murmur. "Like you."
His stomach fluttered and he almost giggled like a little girl at your words. Once he got close enough, he kneeled beside the chair you were sitting in, watching as your delicate fingers manoeuvred the needle and yarn into the outline of a seahorse. He smiled to himself.
"Do you think I should start weaving clothes for you? Considering your district's all about making clothes and stuff," he said with a smirk.
"Like a dress made out of netting? It wouldn't leave much to the imagination."
"You won't hear this mouth complaining," Finnick said, the image of you walking around the house clad in a black net dress overcoming his mind.
Your cheeks warmed with a horrible blush and you decided to focus your attention entirely on the seahorse in the effort to overcome the sudden lewd thoughts involving his mouth.
Finnick continued watching in amazement as you managed to turn a few colours of yarn into a beautiful seahorse on the waistband of his pants. He wondered how many other pieces of clothing of his you had managed to infiltrate with various sea creatures. When his eyes caught on a bright blob of colour on the underside of the shirt sleeve he was wearing, he smiled, knowing he had gotten his answer.
His gaze flickered back to you, observing the look of concentration on your face as you sewed—the gentle crinkle of your furrowed brows, the subtle curl of your lips, and every now and then, the small twitch of your nose like that of a bunny, the pink of your blush adding to the image.
He couldn't help but prop his folded arms on the arm of the chair, chin resting on his forearms as he shamelessly and blatantly admired the changes in your facial expressions. He noticed as your eyes began to occasionally flicker toward him, your attention increasingly beginning to drift.
A few minutes later, you exhaled a heavy sigh. "You're so distracting."
"You're so adorable," he replied almost dreamily.
There it was again. The humiliating pink flush of your cheeks.
He grinned, humming a quiet laugh as he rose to his feet to plant a kiss on the top of your head.
"Can I make one request?" he asked.
"Perhaps."
His eyes fell to the lionfish on the shirt in his hands, eyes sparkling with child-like joy. "Sew some of these onto your own clothes so we can match."
A wide smile stretched across your lips.
Within the next week, you and Finnick were a giggling mess, sporting matching sweatshirts embroidered with big blue dolphins, each one's blowhole featuring a small red heart just above.