Accomplice.

accomplice.

pairings. jason todd x fem!reader

about. in which a day at the country club proves to be more exciting than jason originally thought

warnings. swearing, catcalling/harassment

ricky rocks. 😎

“nice shirt.”

jason slapped down his newspaper on the table before bruce, his eyes scoping out the country club around them. it made him shake his head at the ridiculousness of the privilege just seeping out from the sand traps. jason had never seen anything like it aside from bruce’s charity balls, but then, people were actually throwing their money around for a good cause, not just for the benefit of themselves. 

“good to see you made it,” bruce put his own newspaper down, looking up at jason through his dark sunglasses, slightly surprised. it was always a guessing game with jason, a game bruce always seemed to win, but not this time. bruce knew country clubs weren’t really jason’s thing, causing him to doubt the appearance of the boy until there he was, in all his moody glory. 

“yeah, yeah,” jason waved him off, still looking around and out past the balcony that they were seated on. golfers and tennis players filled the green around them, slagging around with their noses held high, “where's the rest of them?”

“well, tim and dick should be teeing off right about now with the company of alfred. as for your lovely sister, she should be around here somewhere,” bruce craned his neck, looking around despite actually not looking around. 

“finally done with her violence strike?”

“ended about a five hours ago after i offered her the keys to the old cadillac in the garage.” 

“thought you were giving that to dick,” jason pulled out the chair across from bruce, finally content with his analyzation. 

“i’ll buy him a keychain.” 

jason nodded, taking a drink of one of the full glasses of water laying out on the table. sometimes bruce was tolerable enough for jason to enjoy, despite him not wanting to admit it, they were similar in a few variety of ways. 

a relationship wasn't exactly something jason loathed for with bruce. maybe towards the beginning of it all but that had slowly all melted away as time continued on and he begun to take the matters of gotham in his own hands. he didn't... hate bruce as much as he thought he did, in fact he found him a bit more enjoyable after he adopted you, softer, and more... understanding. 

“hey, daddy,” you had pressed your lips against bruce’s cheek, welcoming him with more affection than bruce had probably received from all his other kids combined. it made jason look away and back at the course, shifting uncomfortably.

you were probably one of the brattiest girls jason had ever saw. you put up the front that you were innocent and simply didn’t know any better about half the shit you did. jason could see right through you and always wondered if bruce could. sure, the man was the king of seeing through psychological manipulation, but he had to of been the most whipped jason had ever seen him. buying you clothes that you didn't need, driving you to school himself, spoiling you unconditionally, and even giving you a car that wasn't yours.

bruce truly loved being a father to a girl who didn’t want anything to do with the vigilante life, that way he could worry less about you and make sure to make more time with you doing things that had nothing to do with batman or robin.  

“hey, jason,” you smirked at him, strutting to sit next to him. 

he resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he pressed his lips into a thin line, eyeing you skeptically like he always did. he was sure you knew he could see right through your facade by the way you teased him every time you saw him, poking at him, smiling at him with that stupid smile that said you knew everything, but you didn’t care. 

jason gulped down his water. 

“how was the green?” “hot,” you mumbled, pinching the front of your thin white blouse before waving it up and down as if allowing more air to touch your chest, “but i think i’ll head out again.”

“you should take jason with you.”

you smirked suddenly, your head gliding to face the side of jason face where he slightly froze, looking to bruce, “that’s a great idea.”

jason shook his head despite the pointed look bruce was giving him. fucking A.

you suddenly stood, grinning widely, “i think we should go now before it gets too crowded,” you looked down to jason who was avoiding your eyes, his jaw clenching at the fact he couldn't get out of this one. 

you begun to walk away after giving bruce’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze, then making sure to sway your hips a bit more, knowing just where jason’s eyes were, watching you. yes, you were bratty. you wore those stupid short and tight golf skirts specifically because of the fact it made your ass pop more than in a usual pair of shorts or skirt. 

and the blouse, the thin material also being slightly translucent, highly sporting your black bralette. it was the first thing jason saw and he wished it wasn't. he wished he could have taken it as an innocent move made by you, but he knew that was false by knowing exactly who you were. 

“go, join her.” 

“i’m not here to babysit, bruce.”

“jason,” bruce gave him a pointed look even though he knew fairly well that he couldn’t make jason do anything he didn’t want to do. “spend some time with your sister.”

“oh for fucks sake,” jason pinched the bridge of his nose before shoving himself up and out of the lounge chair, pointing at the older man. “you owe me a car for this one.”

**

“you ever feel bad?”

“bad for what?”

jason had his arms crossed while watching you practice your swings within the tee box. he watched you carefully while finding this interaction completely useless in the fact that he had no purpose of being there right then.

“for sucking bruce dry of his money.”

you rolled your eyes to yourself, “funny, you act like you never took advantage of the rich kid opportunities.”

“that’s because i didn’t.”

“i don’t believe you,” you swung your club, sending the ball far out in the air.

“it’s the truth.”

you let out a sigh as you walked back to where jason stood, switching out your clubs, “you’re telling me you never had a moment where you thought ‘i deserve this’ and just accepted an expensive item?”

jason frowned, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, “i mean yes, but those moments didn’t turn into shopping sprees.”

“you’re just mad he actually makes time for me,” your club once again smacked against the clean white ball, producing an impressive shot that even jason admired.

“maybe i am-“

“nice shot, sweetheart.”

jason’s voice was overlapped with the sound of an older man who was two boxes over, smiling strangely. you ignored him just as jason did after staring at him for a moment before walking back to your golf bag in search of a tee.

“hey, i said nice shot.”

“i heard you,” but you didn’t look at him.

jason stared down to you, watching you struggle to find a tee as you aggressively dug through one of the side pockets before finally finding one and pulling it out with a sharp jerk, “happen a lot?”

“almost every time,” you mumbled with an irritated tone. “they usually leave me alone when dick’s with me—i think they think he’s my boyfriend and prefer not to get socked in the face.”

“not tim?”

“you think they’re scared of tim?”

“fair enough,” jason shrugged.

“you’re awfully rude.”

jason could see you visibly tense just as you were about to line yourself up. he glanced to the man who seemed to have drawn nearer, making it easier for jason to guess that the man had to of been around bruce’s age, maybe older.

“maybe accept the compliment.”

“maybe just lay off her, buddy.”

he scoffed, “who are you, her boyfriend?”

jason felt slightly offended that there wasn’t an instant strike of fear like there apparently was for dick in this man. this caused jason to straighten his posture better to bring light to how big he was.

“and what if i was?”

the man doesn’t say anything more, but rather turns away back to his own business.

“you don’t have to do that, they usually tend to bore themselves after you ignore them for awhile.”

jason quirked a brow, “it shouldn’t be a problem in the first place.”

“well that just means you’re not club material, jason todd.”

smack, another incredible shot.

“you ever think about playing in tournaments?”

“i’d say another great shot, but you’d probably insult me again, wouldn’t you?”

“hey, buddy, piss the fuck off,” jason twists from his stance that was relaxed, now practically barricading your body from sight the man had on you. “get a fucking life or prey on some other underage girl.”

the man scoffs, “yeah okay man, i was just offering the girl a compliment, but it seems neither of you can take it.”

the man unnerved jason as he stared at him like he was some idiot. it took everything in him not to sock the man in the face, but jason kept it cool and didn’t let his feelings effect any nerve in his body.

he stood there until the man finally left before shifting away from your body, “you ever tell bruce about these guys?”

“eh,” you shrugged, once again adjusting your posture, “what’s bruce going to do, stare ‘em off like you and dick?”

“no, he’d probably get the guy kicked from the club.”

“he doesn’t care that much.”

jason rolls his eyes, hard, “that’s the most bullshit sentence i’ve ever heard. you’re bruce’s fucking angel.”

“doesn’t mean anything,” jason could hear a level of uncomfortableness itch through your throat as you tried your best to act inattentive.

it made him sigh before walking over to your golf bag and hauling it over his shoulder, “let’s go for a walk, i can feel that guys eyes drilling holes through your ass.”

you sighed reluctantly before shoving your driver into your bag, joining jason’s side, “it’s not that big of a deal.”

“yeah, okay,” he rolled his eyes, obviously taking zero consideration into your words. gotham was full of freaks who loved women half their age, it had to be a high percentage of people jason beat up. “tell that to the thousands of girls who get sexually assaulted each year.”

“i’m not getting sexually assault, jason.”

“yeah, but you’re being harassed by a man double your age.”

“lay off,” you rolled your eyes, “if you want to be helpful, help me put my clubs back in bruce’s car.”

“you need to take initiative at least once.”

“shut up.”

the first time you had ever met jason, you had felt a strange draw to him. he was full of anger, but kept it buried down into his soul. there were times he could barely control it, but you still felt a tie. seeing him made you feel anxious but glad until an unknown repulsion stemmed from him, and you couldn’t help feeling the same over time.

but today, today was strange. this new side of sympathy coming from him threw you off and you didn’t know how to feel.

“that’s his car,” you stopped suddenly, causing jason to almost run into you.

“how do you know it’s his car?”

“because he tried to pick me up like a hooker once,” jason’s brows narrowed by the way you said it so nonchalantly with a blank stare to the nice blue beamer—douche bag car.

“what’re you doing?”

“taking initiative,” he glanced at you as you pulled out one of your clubs from the bag he still held.

“what’re you doing?” he repeated but knew exactly what you were doing as you marched to the front of the nice car before drawing back and slamming the driver onto the hood creating a clear and ugly dent.

he should have stopped you. he knew it. but there was just some satisfaction watching you repeatedly slamming the club into the car over and over till it didn’t even look remotely distinguishable. he smiled.

“this will be quite the dent in bruce’s bank account.”

“what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” you mumbled, shoving the club back into your bag, “and no one will ever know if we don’t get caught.”

“we?”

“that’s right,” you now walked on, not looking back to see if he was moving with you, “you’re an accomplice now, todd.”

“of course i am,” he shook his head, but couldn’t help but smirk as he now found you a little bit more standable than before.

navigation.

i love ur page :))))

thank you love !

in love w ur page & ur writing

thank you ❤️🦖

sending u dino love lol ?? !

thank god it was nancy and not my boy steve.

also the scene where max was looking through the binoculars to get a look at steve— 😭

perfect match.

pairings. steve harrington x fem!reader

about. steve has a little crush.

warnings. gif not mine, foul language maybe

ricky rocks. send me an inbox message 🫶🫶

steve always felt like he was trapped in his own body after his world got flipped upside down when unexplainable things invaded hawkins as well as his own life and getting into college was no longer his biggest problem.

—and of course, when nancy broke up with him. and what was once home, was now just a shell that carried him around from one place to another.

everything he found fun before didn’t strike him with the same excitement. he suddenly became hyper aware of everything and where his life seemed to be heading toward; which wasn’t bad, just something nobody really wants—a cookie cutter life that resembled exactly his parents.

until he met you.

you were a lot different compared to a lot of girls he had met and put himself into social situations with. you were smart, sarcastic, witty, and actually had things going for you; hobbies, a job, things that mattered in the long run.

you were exactly what steve needed—according to dustin. and he wasn’t wrong; steve just wished he had realized that a lot sooner.

“harrington, i didn’t realize you still came to parties,” the first time he really saw you was when you were leaned on your forearms as you came to fill your red solo cup with the red punch placed on the island as an offering to all. steve stood on the other side, staring off into space while thinking he should have never came until your slight sweet smile came into sight.

“yeah, me too,” he sighed, sounding sorrowful as he took a drink from his own solo cup, trying to pay attention to who was speaking to him—he almost thought it was his own conscious reminding him there were better things to be doing.

“you’re too cool for all this now?”

“something like that.”

you hummed, finishing up the pouring of the punch. you had honestly hoped to get more out of him, but his mouth was practically a steel trap and he didn’t seem exactly present, so you walked off with a nod.

it took him awhile to recognize you, and your name didn’t hit him until it was too late and you had already crossed the room.

**

a month later steve was parked outside of dustin’s house, tapping his fingers lightly against his car, humming to the song on the radio patiently waiting for dustin to come outside when you were walking to get your mail and your eyes caught onto the familiar burgundy BMW parked across the street. you slightly grinned from where you stood.

maybe you could get him this time.

“hey, stranger,” you slightly tipped your head as you bent down to see him properly through his rolled down window, smiling once he turned his head, almost shocked to see your face. “didn’t know you hung around here.”

“oh-i don’t-i-i’m just picking up a friend.”

oh he was already starting off so rough.

“right,” you leaned back to your normal posture, looking to the henderson house for recognition. “didn’t know you ran with the middle schoolers now.”

he nervously laughed, already knowing this would eventually happen; someone would find out that he was practically best friends with an eighth grader—really his only friend at the moment.

“don’t worry i won’t tell,” you winked just as dustin came stumbling down his front lawn to steve’s passenger seat, already taking note of you.

you were already beginning to walk away with your hands shoved into your jackets pockets and steve suddenly felt a rush of embarrassment almost, “it’s not what it looks like.”

“i’m sure it isn’t,” you called back to him.

“really, there’s more to it.”

“maybe you can tell me all about it sometime.”

steve sighed seeing you were already on your own front lawn—therefore too far to continue to explain himself without seeming like a douche.

“who’s that?”

“huh?” steve almost forgot about dustin as he turned to face him.

“that girl, who is that?”

“oh, just some… girl who’s in my physics class,” he was already having a hard time trying to explain it. he felt caught.

“just some girl?” he quirked a brow, not believing the shallowness of the statement.

“what?”

“dude,” dustin already had that blunt look on his face that steve hated so much—something that made him feel dumb as he stared back, waiting for the explanation to his dumbfounded voice. “that’s not just some girl, that’s like.. some girl you want to take home.”

“what?” okay, now he was really lost.

“what’s her name?”

“i don’t know, y/n?”

“you don’t know?”

“yes, i do know, it’s y/n.”

“good,” dustin shook his head, “because you gotta get on that, man.”

“what, no,” steve’s face screwed up, slightly caught off guard with the suggestion. “no way.”

“what do you mean, steve. did you not see that, she was flirting with you.”

“you’re on something henderson,” steve shook his head. “she was not flirting with me.”

“‘maybe you can tell me about it sometime?’” dustin repeated your words, hoping to lay it out better for him, “dude, steve, if that doesn’t mean ‘let’s have a candle lit dinner’ then i don’t know what does.”

he has to think about it for a minute, his head slightly turning as he leans on his wheel, thinking over the conversation the both of you just had ten seconds ago, “oh, she was definitely flirting.”

“see!”

“there is no way you’re giving me advice on girls right now,” steve shook his head, now moving the car into drive. “there’s no way.”

“hey, someone’s gotta give it to you,” dustin shrugs, “you’re losing your touch, harrington.”

“shut up.”

**

it seemed now everywhere he went you appeared. and you were no longer initiating the encounters, it was more of steve’s eyes wandering and they happened to stumble upon you walking down the hall. he cursed himself for noticing you first and your eyes not being there to meet his.

he didn’t understand the feeling eating at his chest as time passed and he thought about you more and more and with barely knowing you. he really wasn’t even sure if the name he had for you was correct.

“thinking about her?”

“jesus, henderson,” steve slightly flinched as dustin fell into the seat next to him on the couch without warning.

“thinking about who?” robin’s ears perked as she suddenly took interest to the conversation just starting.

the three of them currently sat in steve’s basement for a movie night that had been constantly requested by both dustin and robin until steve finally caved—and was now deeply regretting.

“y/n y/l/n.”

good, he was right.

“really?” robins eyebrows raised in surprised. “not the typical bimbo you go for, this is new for you steve.”

“what do you mean.. y/n’s not a bimbo--i don’t go for bimbos.”

“my point exactly, it’s a little concerning,” robin slightly shrugs, “but i’m sorry my friend, you do in fact usually go for bimbos.”

“i do not-“ steve raises his hands before looking over to dustin for help but the boy only nods, having to agree with robin. “okay, whatever, i don’t even like her.”

dustin rolls his eyes, “who were you just thinking about then, huh?”

steve’s cheeks turn red and he can’t help but roll his eyes, “shove off, henderson.”

he begins to giggle, shoving an accusing finger into steve’s face, “you like someone.”

“yeah, yeah, don’t get too excited,” he slaps dustin’s finger out of his face but it doesn’t stop dustin from continuing to sing in mock.

“that’s a first,” robin huffs, “you sure this isn’t just another kelly situation where you think you’re in love but it’s actually just her butt?”

“who said anything about love, or like for that matter? you guys are just jumping ahead of yourselves.”

dustin continues to sing in the background as he hops foot to foot, making robin give him a pointed look, “match maker here seems to think it’s serious.”

“he’s delusional.”

“well,” robin slightly tips her head, “you have seem really distant recently, steve. and y/n y/l/n, whoo, i’d say she’s definitely an improvement from any past love interests.”

“you’re both delusional.”

**

“we gotta stop meeting like this.”

steve almost jumps, looking up through his car window to see your face. once again, you had caught him in the midst of your neighborhood and outside of dustin’s house.

“jesus,” he looks up to you, a lopsided smile twitching onto his lips, “you a stalker now, y/n?”

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you, harrington,” you smiled, shaking your head, standing up to your real posture. “i think you’re the one stalking since you are the one parked right across from my house.”

he scoffed, “you live right across-“

“from your eighth grade best friend?” you raised a brow, making him roll his eyes. “a little weird.”

“do you have anything else better to do than to be making fun of me?”

“no, not really,” you pressed your lips together in a thin line, shaking your head.

he sighs, slightly shaking his own in thought, not knowing if he was about to regret what he was going to do next. he thinks, biting his lip before tilting his head, “get in.”

“excuse me?“

“hop in…my car?” he nods his head toward the passenger seat once more and it takes a minute for you, with your own thoughts, to decide whether or not this was a good idea. you think not, but you still round the car and get into the seat.

“this how you treat all your girlfriends?”

“maybe.”

“funny,” you shook your head, slightly smiling.

“what?”

“just never thought i’d be sitting in steve harrington’s car outside of little dusty henderson’s house.”

“now, why not?”

“oh, you’re too cool for me,” you say sarcastically, looking over to him.

“really, me?” he quirks a brow, smiling, but you could see confusion tainting his expression—he didn’t know if you were serious or not, or even what to make of your statement.

“really, you,” you nodded, “everyone worshipped you, steve… but then you just like disappeared, and even then people still worship you.” you frowned, not understanding the reverence of high school.

you liked steve, you didn’t mind him and had no problem with him, but the obsession some people had with him, you didn’t understand and you almost found quite annoying.

his disappearance and lack of attendance at parties and functions that “popular” kids attended to was something strange and unlike him. he was missed; you didn’t really care, but a lot of people did.

“yeah… right,” he sighed, looking down to his lap for a moment, thinking of all that had happened in the past year before looking back up to you. it seemed his mood was suddenly struck down at your sentence, but you didn’t understand why.

“why?”

“i don’t know,” he shrugged, “there just seemed no point in them anymore.”

“right.”

“what, you don’t believe me?”

“not really.”

“wow,” he says, “and i suppose you find them so much fun, don’t you?”

“well, yeah.”

he narrowed his brows, “girl like you? there’s no way you do.”

“what do you mean by that?” you scowled at him, taking offense.

“i don’t mean it in a bad way,” he’s quick to defend, throwing up his arms, “all i’m saying is that… you seem better than that, y’know? i’ve noticed you before, and you’re not like… a lot of those girls.”

“thanks?” you don’t know if you should take it as a compliment, but you love the way he seems flustered, trying to explain, almost embarrassed.

“yeah,” his voice is low, barely above a whisper, almost not wanting to unsettle the awkward silence. he know turns to look at you, “you don’t-“

he’s interrupted once you lean forward, pressing your lips against his.

he’s surprised, almost not processing what was happening until it hit him like a rock all at once and he finally kissed you back. you couldn’t believe yourself. never had you ever been this bold, but it was now or never, and you had been waiting to do this for awhile.

his hand clasped the side of your face, his other placing on your waist, pulling you further and closer to him till some part of you that isn’t your lips, was touching him.

he smelled of soap and laundry detergent and whatever product was in his hair. he smelled good and you didn’t want to pull away, especially since he was a good kisser, a real good one.

the rumors weren’t wrong.

he moved slow, like he wasn’t worried about time, and his lips were perfectly in sync to yours. but steve was almost overwhelmed, worried that he’d mess up even as this was one of the things he was good at.

you now pulled away, breathing shallowly but smiling as you look to him with a sparkle in your eye. he smiled back, but was finding it hard to keep consistent eye contact.

“are you blushing?” you smiled, slowly pulling away from his body. “is the steve harrington blushing?”

“shut up,” he smiled, his tongue poking into the side of his cheek as he glanced to his lap. “you’re not looking so hot either.”

“shut up, harrington,” you rolled your eyes, lightly shoving him. “i’m getting out of the car now.”

“wait, why?” he’s eager now, watching you shift in your seat.

“because i’m pretty sure your boyfriend just got a show,” you jerk your thumb to dustin who’s standing on his porch with a wide smile. you look back to steve who curses under his breath. “don’t worry,” you get out of the car now, “we’ll see each other again… maybe.”

“oh, c’mon now,” he calls out to you as you round his car, making your way back to your own home, “don’t be like that… call me!”

“so,” dustin is suddenly in his front seat, grinning from ear to ear, “are you two a perfect match, or are you two a perfect match?”

navigation.

promise.

pairings. finnick odair x fem!reader

about. finnick has been saving you ever since you’ve known him, but he can’t help you this time.

warnings. murder, does not follow original plot, foul language?

ricky rocks. this is kind of an L fic because it's short, but i missed writing for bae.

“you were always the best. killing your brother like that on screen with no hesitation… indeed a performance, one of the best ever seen,” snow sat across from you, his voice calm and precise full of awe. “beautiful.”

he looked off, as if reminiscing about you on screen with blood coating your face and soaking your clothes from days on days of barbarism.

you clenched your jaw, pressing the tip of your tongue into the inside of your cheek as he spoke. your eyes meet the gravel ground of the greenhouse, thinking back to the hot nights and days that were filled with fear and no thoughts but to survive and kill.

your brother kept you safe for as long as he could, that was a mistake. you wish he would have ditched you to fend for yourself, but he stuck by your side like a leech, ultimately leading to his death.

him or you, and he wanted it to be you.

“i always thought you were so brilliant, even at such a young age,” you were twelve, he was seventeen. you were too young, you had life left to live, therefore you did not deserve to die. “and you grew up… wonderfully.”

“stop,” you shook your head, shook the memories and red images from your mind, “stop talking.”

he did. he leaned back, watching you think. watching you struggle within your own head to come back to reality, to find yourself again. he found it amusing, watching your skin crawl from where you sat.

“he’d be so proud of you: rafe,” he smiled at the visible sudden stiffness in your body. “everything you’ve came to be.”

“don’t say his name,” you shoved yourself up, hauling towards his seat. “you do not get to say his name.”

he shifts and you swear you see a look of uncomfortableness strike his eyes, looking you up and down, observing the anger that radiated off your skin. you wanted to kill him; you wanted him to feel pain.

“he is dead because of you. you don’t get to say his name when you don’t know what he went through. what i went through,” you were leaned over him, clenching your fists, clenching around a blade.

you wanted to kill him. you were going to kill him.

you pulled the silver knife from your sleeve, pushing it to his throat, “i want you to feel it.”

he smiled beneath the pain, his fine white teeth staining with red as blood seeped up from his throat, looking up to you, daring, not believing that you’d do it, “oh, y/n, if you couldn’t do it then, you can’t do it now.”

“watch me.”

**

he knew.

you didn’t know how but it seemed the moment you walked out of that greenhouse, his eyes were on you and he was tracking you down as you tried your best to get away from the scene, unnoticed—which didn’t work out.

“what’d he say to you?”

“does it matter?”

his body was practically shoved against yours as you tried your best to keep walking, hopefully toward an exit. but he was making it difficult, he always did, but you couldn’t blame him; you were a walking hazard when mad, especially now after the rebellion had fully absorbed panem.

everything was off and the sudden break from routine and fear of the capitol eyes watching you; it was weird and you couldn’t help but be weary of something bad happening.

“no,” he mumbled, grabbing onto your forearm to slow you and pull you away from other onlooking eyes, “but i would like to know what led to you having blood on your hand.”

you clenched your jaw hard as he now had your hand pulled up, showing the crimson colored liquid staining your hand. an aching feeling overcoming every part of your body as the look on finnick’s face begun to get to you, “don’t.”

“don’t what?” his voice was low, his eyes beginning to haunt you with a look asking you something that he wasn’t going to speak aloud; what have you done?

he couldn’t protect you from this. what you had just done, was not something to come back from. he couldn’t understand why. all you had to do was wait. just wait and the whole situation would have taken care of itself.

“he was going to die anyways,” you pulled your wrist from his grip, continuing to walk away, hoping he wouldn’t follow.

“it wasn’t your job to do it,” but of course, he strides after you. “it was planned, y/n, coin is not going to-”

“let me have this, finnick,” you turned fast to face him with anger still built up and ready to spill, “the only thing that they’re going to be mad about is the fact that they didn’t get a show like they’re always fucking given. including coin.”

“she’ll have your head.”

“she’ll stay away from me. coin is just as bad as snow, and you know it.”

he stayed silent, his eyes wandering from your face as he thought. you were right. the bombing at the capitol gates single handedly showed that coin was as power hungry as snow and it didn’t matter if it costed lives.

“i can’t save you from this.”

“i don’t need you to save me, finnick.”

lie. you both knew it.

since the day you met finnick he had been saving your ass, even if you didn’t need it.

many times from snow trying to profit off your body, many times in the eyes of aggressive capitol people and lurking faces, many times within the arena, and during the rebellion.

he kept watchful eyes on you ever since your youthful face replaced his prideful accomplishment of youngest winning victor of the hunger games.

“look, even if snow’s life ended the same, his killing was meant for a crowd,” his voice was a whisper as he pushed you slowly inside and against a wall. “it was going to be coin’s big introduction with katniss doing what she does best. you took that away, if she is anything like snow, you know that won’t go unpunished.”

“what’re you trying to say?”

“you need to leave.”

“then let go.”

he internally winced, wishing he could do more for you other than amp up your fight or flight reflexes. he didn’t want to leave you hanging, leave you to their jaws.

“finn,” you yanked at his sleeve lightly, “you need to let me go.”

his body hovered over you, seeming so out of it—drunk. his aroma was throwing you off, you just had to get away, because if you didn’t now, you probably wouldn’t anytime soon.

“promise me something then.”

you exhaled, blinking up through your lashes, “what?”

“live long enough to let me save you at least one more time?”

“no promises.”

navigation

@transias @cc13723things @thehuntress09 @demigirl-with-problems