Hunger Games Finnick - Tumblr Posts

a finnick fic is on the way yall 😌🩷

thinking about finnick odair a lot these days

it is mentioned that you were taken at the capitol but that’s all

Finnick who braids tiny little braids in your hair

Finnick who collects shells and brings them home for you

Finnick who felt like me couldn’t breathe when he found out that while he was safe at district 13 you were in trouble at the capitol

Finnick who gives you he biggest and longest hug when your back from the capitol all bruised and broken waiting for him to help put you back together again

Finnick who helps with nightmares you have when your back

Finnick who doesn’t go on that one last mission because all you did was look at him with those teary eyes and had a quivering lip

Finnick who just needs you to stay sane

𝐄𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐭.𝟐 (fem reader) 𝟗.𝟕𝐤 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤. 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞. 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐢𝐭, 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞-𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐲, 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐇𝐞'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲, 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐚 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲.

As the words leap off the tip of my tongue, I freeze. Time stills, and all that I can hear and feel is the hurried beat of my heart. The tips of my fingers begin to prick, just like on that day.

I'm taken back to an icy, cold, windy day. Some of the water at the harbour had frozen over, large shards of ice hitting against the wooden structure. We were carrying large nets filled with all kinds of creatures; fish, crab, lobster, abalone, the whole lot. The children would often come to help out, as the work was long, tiring and difficult, stretching out until it became pitch black outside.

Me and Annie had been helping my mother out with carrying the nets, as she had been pregnant back then, her stomach too large to let her do anything but sit and debone the fish, or pack it away into freezing boxes that were to be transported straight to the Capitol.

On that day, the excess water that had been brought by the creatures had dripped heavily onto the wooden flooring, freezing over. Everyone was aware of it, some going out of their way to warn the others. I listened, focusing on the floor beneath my feet. It creaked heavily, and Annie had to catch me by my arm a couple of times. 

I remember it like it was just yesterday; the water was scalding cold.

It pricked at my skin with invisible nails, burning every inch of it through my coat. The water had instantly gotten through my throat, and then it began to freeze my lungs over. My hands felt like burning icicles, but I did my best to swim my way up, panicking for air. Gurgled screams escaped my throat.

I didn't swim for long enough, as my limbs began to become numb. I had ceased all of my movement, convinced that I was gonna to die. Feeling too worn out to continue swimming, even though just a mere moment ago I was ferociously fighting for my life. 

The cold was engulfing me like a spikey blanket, wrapping around every crevice of my body as my lungs sputtered out water, though more replaced it in mere seconds. My entire body kept twitching, but the icy water kept burning me. 

My body began to slowly sink, exhaustion taking over as I inched further down, surrounded by darkness.

Then, in the far distance, I saw it. The splash.

I saw it from the corner of my eye, a figure swimming towards me. At first it was just a blur of bronze, but then it became slightly clearer. Arms extended, it reached out to grab a hold of my hand and pulled, and I floated up after it towards the surface, arms latched loosely around his neck. My eyes slowly closed, too exhausted to stay awake.

I don't remember anything after that. All I know is that it hurt, and I almost died. I struggled to walk for a while, the stinging pain reappearing from time to time.

That's how I felt in this moment; legs frozen, heart pounding violently, lungs burning. I guess it took me too long to keep moving, as I quickly felt a pair of hands harshly grab my arms from each side, ushering me up and onto the stage.

"Wonderful!" Sylvia Borgnino exclaims, reaching her pointy gloved fingers towards me. "What is your name darling?" She asks in a heavy accent, her breath lightly fanning over my face as she leans in close. I clear my throat, looking between her own honey-brown eyes and the audience. "Y-Y/n..." I stutter, feeling my hands tremble.

"Y/n?" Sylvia asks, her eyebrows raised questioningly, nudging me on.

"Y/n Montford." I finish quietly, my throat has dried up, my voice coming out croaky and timid. I look around, noticing the shocked faces of the people around me. Some of our school friends have taken Annie to the side, consoling her with hugs as they all solemnly stared at me.

Suddenly I feel a light squeeze on my forearm, and look up to see Sylvia looking at me gleefully. "Our most recent tribute in District 4! Let's give her a round of applause, everyone!" She excitedly speaks into the microphone, clapping her gloved hands. Some people in the audience join, not out of excitement or joy, but rather out of respect. Or so I assume. I wouldn't know.

Clearing her throat, Sylvia begins, "Thank you! Now, onto the male tributes." She says gleefully, stepping over to the other glass bowl, repeating the same actions before dipping her hand in, fishing around for that one piece of paper. Once she found it, she walked back over to the podium, leaning over slightly. "And the male tribute from District 4 is... Beau Murland! A round of applause for him, everyone!" She shouts excitedly, clapping her hands once again.

Some people form an empty circle around a young boy, he must be no older than 14. He was stuck in place, his wide, innocent eyes staring ahead at the stage. Someone in the crowd poked him, fishing him out of whatever trance he put himself into. With small, timid steps, he made his way over to the stage, hugging himself.

Now that he was closer, I could see his features clearer. He had big, bright blue eyes that stared into your soul, soft wavy caramel hair, and sun-kissed skin. He just barely reached the height of my shoulder. He looked skinny and frail, like he barely ate. Sylvia quickly begins asking for any tributes, but no one speaks up. The mayor quickly takes over, beginning to speak out a memorised essay on the Treaty of Treason, as he does every year. It goes by quickly, and before I know it, me and the boy are being asked to shake hands, before the national anthem begins to play. From there, we're escorted by peacekeepers into the Justice Building, led to separate rooms before the doors are closed on me.

I sighed loudly, the initial shock having washed away like a morning breeze. I turned away from the door, and was welcomed by a grand, red room. The windowsills seemed to be lined with gold, glazing lazily in the sunlight that streamed through. There were curtains that extended all the way to the ceiling, probably made of some expensive material. In the middle of the room there was a couch and two armchairs, a coffee table separating all three. Further down, against a wall, a big chimney rested, but there was no fire crackling.

I seat myself down in the middle of the couch, gasping quietly at the sheer softness of it. To be honest, I have never felt such luxury. What was it? Velvet or something?

With a loud creak, the big wooden doors slid open, and I was greeted with the sight of my teary-eyed mother and trembling little sister. As the peacekeeper closed the door behind them, I stood up, not daring to move in fear of my legs trembling. Hali ran up to me, and her slender arms encircled my waist. Her tears stained my dress, but I didn't mind. 

My mother stayed a bit back, a pained expression present on her face. Her hand was covering her mouth, though I could tell there was a scowl on her face, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"Why-" She paused, taking a deep shaky breath. "Why did you volunteer?" She asked quietly, yet still loudly enough for me to hear. I shook my head, closing my eyes as I felt tears well up. 

"I- I don't know. I had to." I respond, and my chest begins heaving up and down, and I begin to hiccup. "Annie has- she's helped us so much... I owe it to her." I say quietly, my hand caressing Hali's head. A loud sob escaped her lips. 

An exhausted sigh leaves my mothers' lips, and she sniffles.

"You don't owe her anything! It's normal for everyone to help each other out, that's how we live!" My mother shouts, hiding her face in her hand. "Y-you're just throwing your life away... If you hadn't volunteered, you'd be free." She says quietly, more to herself than to me. Her legs slowly begin moving, and she's quickly pulling me into a bone-crushing hug. 

The three of us stand there for a bit, just embracing and crying. Hali's sobs began to quieten down, but she's started biting down on her nails. "Hali, stop it. You'll hurt yourself." I mutter quietly, taking her hand into my own, squeezing it reassuringly.

She shakes her head, and more tears spill out. I pull away from my mom, and lead them to sit on the couch on either side of me. 

"Take care of yourselves, okay?" I asked, looking between the two as I caressed Hali's head. My mother nodded, her hand coming up to hold my cheek. "We'll be okay. And so will you. You have Finnick, he w-won his games right?" My mother asked, stumbling over her own words. I nodded my head, before leaning into her hold.

"I'll be okay..." I whispered brokenly. We sat there in silence for the remaining few minutes, exchanging hugs. As the peacekeepers escorted them out, I shouted 'I love you's' to them. My mother opened her lips to respond, more tears escaping her eyes but the door was slammed in my face before I could hear what she said. A strangled sob left my lips, and in a combination of frustration and stress, I kicked the door, slamming my fist against it with a strained scream.

After a minute or so, it opened again. 

I saw her fiery red hair first, bouncing up and down as she ran over to me, tears streaming down her face yet again.

"Y/n! Why?! Why did you volunteer for me?!" She shouted at me, shaking my shoulders. Her nails dug into my skin, and her eyes looked desperately into mine. 

"You didn't have to and you know it! What if something happens to you?! What if you get seriously injured or- or killed?!" Annie continued, leaning her head on my chest. Her voice was strained and hoarse. I held her in my arms, gently stroking soothing circles into her back, as I always would. After a while, she looked up at me, her eyes teary and her face flushed.

"I'll look after your mom and sister, I promise." She said quietly, resting her chin on my shoulder. "When you're in there-" She paused, taking a shaky breath. "You won't need to worry about them, okay?" She asked, her hand caressing the back of my head, the other caging me against her body.

I nodded my head, looking up to the ceiling as tears began to prick at my waterline, "I'd appreciate that, thanks." I say, my voice tender, barely above a whisper. 

I squeezed her tighter, and we sat there silently comforting each other until the peacekeepers returned, escorting Annie out of the room, just like they did with my mother and sister. For a minute or two, the room is completely silent. My breaths are shallow, and I've successfully stopped the tears from falling.

I won't cry. I can't cry.

I sit there for a while, and soon the doors open once again. For a moment I believe that the peacekeepers will take me to the car, but I'm faced with a much more disappointing sight.

"What are you doing here?!" I screech, my lips forming into a disgusted scowl. The sight of him made me sick. He was a tall, skinny man. His skin was saggy, hanging onto his body, and he was permanently stuck looking tired and sickly.

He took his hat off, twisting it between his hands. He sighed heavily, smacking his lips. For a moment, he said nothing. But then he began. 

"I- I came to wish you luck. Sweetheart, I know I hurt you, but you must know I still care about you." He said quietly, keeping his distance. "I know you don't want to see me, but I had to give you this." He said, stepping closer as he extended his hand to me, something green and golden glinting in his palm. I know what it is- 

"It was your grandmothers... I kept it after she passed away," He pauses, stopping in his tracks. His gaze shifts from anywhere, to my eyes, and I can see the pain in them. "She wanted you to have this, so take it, it'll keep you safe." He insisted, and had come close enough to place the bracelet into my hand. My heart swelled, and I became overcome with pain. 

After my grandmother passed, my scumbag of a father had packed his bags and left for another woman, leaving no trace of himself or my beloved grandma in the house. 

"I hate you..." I said quietly, my heart hurting too much to even be angry. I spun the bracelet in my palm, though slowly and gently, I was suddenly afraid that it would break if I held it too hard.

"I know, I know you do. But I needed to give you this. No matter how much you hate me, I still love you." My father says quietly, looking into my eyes hopefully. 

I shake my head, looking away. "Get out."

A gasp escaped his lips, and I raise my voice. "Get out!"

I can hear his footsteps moving away, but I'm not looking. Instead, I stare out the grand window, my arms crossed over my chest as my thumb massages over the bracelet. I can hear the door opening and closing, before I'm completely swallowed by a deafening silence. 

I swallow thickly, and a lone, strangled sob escapes my throat. I refuse to cry though, as he doesn't deserve my tears, or sympathy or gratefulness. I continue to stare out of the window, at the beautiful garden behind the Justice Building, until the peacekeepers come to retrieve me. I put the bracelet on though, afraid that I'll lose it otherwise.

The peacekeepers reappear after a short time, and escort me out to the car. When I arrive, the other boy is already sat there, twiddling with his thumbs, head hanging low. Next to him is sat Sylvia, the announcer and District escort, looking at a notebook as she busies herself with ticking something off. I seat myself next to her, and the door is promptly shut on me.

No words are exchanged, and the car ride is short and swift. 

The cameras are relentless and blinding. The crowds of cameras are thick, and refuse to make way for us. I look at the train ahead, patiently waiting for us to board it. And then I catch a glimpse of myself on a large TV screen. 

I look confused, shell-shocked. My eyebrows are scrunched together, the corners of my lips tugging downwards. The boy next to me, Beau, looks absolutely terrified. It is clear that he has been crying, his cheeks are freshly stained red, his hair unruly and tremors gloss over him from time to time.

The cameras continue to bombard us with clicking sounds and flashing lights, taking pictures of every angle until we reach the doors of the train. Sylvia instructs me and Beau to smile and wave, and even insists on me blowing kisses into the lenses. 

Eventually we're let onto the train, the doors behind us zipping shut. I have to take a moment to adjust to the barely-lit train cart, as I can still see the colourful lights flashing in my vision. I'm quickly pushed into another cart by Sylvia, who doesn't give us a moment to recollect our thoughts. 

Finnick and Mags are already there, sat waiting at a dining table. Sylvia ushers us forward, her heels no longer making that daunting clicky-clacking sound as she walks over a soft carpet. Finnick turns in his seat, his gaze instantly catching mine, observing.

I don't lift a finger, don't utter any words. Instead, I shift my gaze to look over the interior of the cart. There are large, crystal-clear windows, thick mahogany curtains embracing the edges, and golden ropes keeping the curtains bound to the sides. The carpet itself is also red, with golden lining travelling parallel on both sides as it extends into another cart. Most of the furniture is silver; chairs, table, sofas, cupboards. The wallpaper is a faint blue, with diamond shaped-patterns stretching out across the expanse of the cart.

A voice rips through the air, struggling. I look to the source of it, and notice Mags trying to speak. She gestures for us to sit down, and we reluctantly do so. Beau takes the empty seat next to Mags, whereas I have to sit next to Finnick. 

"So," Mags starts, taking in a breath, "How are y-you two feeling?" Her voice is quiet, croaky, and her accent is much more noticeable than mine or Finnick's.

I look to Beau, who stares at his hands. I look back to Mags, and manage a faint smile. 

"Not so good, but does anyone feel good after realising they're taking a train to their death?" I ask quietly, my smile faltering as I look away, rubbing my arm. She heaves a heavy sigh, moving around a bit. 

She coughs quietly, and it's evident that she is struggling to speak. 

"Me and Finnick are going to do our best, okay you two?" She asks again, her hand shakily moving to hold Beau's in a tight grip as we both see that the boy has started to tremble.

Beau takes in a deep, shaky breath, and shakes his head. "I don't want to die, I can't die. What will happen to my sister?" He asks, his free hand coming up to wipe away his tears. Mags has a big frown on her face as she moves her chair closer to Beau, holding him in her embrace. "You'll be okay, child. When Finnick was your age, he won the games. You can do the same." She reassures, clearing her throat as she shakes her head.

I look towards Finnick, and notice that his eyes are slightly puffy. His gaze is fixed on Mags, and he doesn't acknowledge me or Sylvia.

He's silent throughout the rest of the interaction, but his hand eventually inches downward, his fingers tracing the silver framing of my chair, dancing over it. I look down at it as Mags, Sylvia and Beau talk to each other, digging into their food that the kitchen staff had brought for us. All of a sudden, his fingers wrap over the framing, and pull on my chair until it's close enough for our arms to touch. Though it doesn't ease the constant ache in the pit of my stomach, it feels nice to have his skin brush mine, even if it's not romantic whatsoever. It's still enough to make my heart rate spike, and my breathing to become shallower. 

I turn to face him, looking at his eyes, but he's not looking at me.   

If he were to turn his head to look at me...We'd kiss.

I force myself to look away and towards Mags as I feel the heat suddenly rush up to my cheeks.

Turning to the trio, I tune in on their conversation. Mags was speaking quietly, just barely above a whisper. She was asking Beau about any special talents that he may have, and at that, Beau straightened up, dropping his cutlery, his face flushing instantly.

"I... I can sing." He responded, his voice as light as a feather, and a small, barely noticeable smile tugged at his lips. At that, Sylvia's eyebrows rose, and she looked up from her food, intrigued. "Well then, can you sing for us?" She asks, placing her cutlery down, placing her elbows on the table as she locks her hands together. So now she's paying attention.

"W-well, I don't know that many songs!" Beau exclaimed, an unsure laugh leaving his lips as he scratched the back of his head. "My mom taught me a few bits and bobs, b-but that's it really!" He continued, looking between Mags and Sylvia, before he turned to me, diverting their attention.

"Do you have any special skill? Uh-" He asked, pausing a little as he looked away, scratching at his chin. "Y/n, was it?" He looked to me, his eyes glinting with uncertainty. I nodded my head, biting down on some duck meat. I take a moment to chew, before replying with, "Yeah, uh, I'm not sure if it counts as a 'special' skill but..." I paused for a second, thinking of my answer. "I'm quite good at playing the guitar." I continue, looking down at my plate. 

I had gotten myself a rather large portion of a duck, some mashed potatoes and greens. I opted for a simple combination, as the chefs had brought more food than any of us could eat. It was so much better than any meal I have ever tasted, the duck was juicy and tender, melting away in my mouth. The potatoes were smooth and soft, with a hint of salt in them. 

Though I can confidently say it doesn't beat my mothers fish stew. Nothing beats home cooking.

 I feel Finnick shifting next to me, and from the corner of my eye I can see that he's looking at me. For a moment, I doubt that he'll say anything.

"I believe I've made up a plan." He says curtly, reaching for my hand. He takes hold of it, pressing the plush skin of my fingertips, scarred by numerous hours of practice, feeling how it springs back. Everyone's attention has turned to him, and nobody speaks. 

"For now, I believe that the best way to gain sponsors is for the two of you to stick together," He pauses, looking between me and Beau. 

"Beau. You're small, you're adorable. During your interview, Caesar will lead the conversation. It would be a good idea to offer to sing for the audience, if you're nervous." Finnick pauses, waiting for some sort of response from Beau. 

The boy nods, his big eyes gazing up at Finnick from underneath thick eyelashes.

Finnick then turns to me, his hand having shifted from my fingertips to the bracelet I was given just a few hours prior. He spun it slowly around my wrist, his eyes fixed on the object.

"As for you, Y/n, I think Caesar will be willing enough to make some... Accommodations." He states, his thumb glazing over the bracelet, tracing its' golden lining. 

"I'll speak to him beforehand, and ask him to prepare a guitar for you, so that you can play a song. It'll create a kind of 'connection' between you and Beau, the audience will love it." He finishes, looking up into my eyes. 

"How are we going to do that?" I ask, swallowing the shame I feel as he rests my hand on his thigh. "It's quite simple, really." He quickly replies. "With your guitar, you and Beau can work on a song together. I'm sure the editors will make a montage of sorts, pairing Beau's singing with your guitar. It'll make the audiences go wild." He finishes, and for the rest of the evening doesn't say add on much else, leaving the planning to Mags and Sylvia, with Beau and I occasionally butting in.

After all of us finish eating, and the conversation dries up, Mags quickly ushers me and Beau to our chambers, mumbling about how we're going to have a busy day tomorrow.

The silver doors once again zip shut behind me, but this time I'm left all on my own. All on my own to process the days' events, emotions and weariness. In my room, there is a simple bathroom, it is adorned with a pretty white porcelain sink, a cubed shower, and a large mirror.

There is a whole collection of soaps and shampoos to choose from, and I decide on a honey-scented soap, and a chocolate-scented shampoo. Chocolate is some sort of dark brown, squared treat that nobody in District 4 has even dreamed of. 

The walls are tiles in the colour of a deep red, and the ceiling light casts a golden glow on the interior, creating a false sense of comfort.

I stare at myself in the mirror as I strip, observing my skin, the different marks, moles and bruises that decorate it. I look at my face, noticing the deep shadows, or rather eyebags, that hang on the crease under my eyes, painting the area a darker tone of my skin. My hair, once a beautiful picture-perfect net impersonation, is now a tangled mess, and I hiss in my pain as I tug at the knots in it. This will be a long night, I think to myself.

A shiver runs down my spine as I step into the shower. The small cube-shaped space consists of clear doors, a porcelain seat of sorts and a tiled floor with a drain situated just below the showerhead. The water is at first scalding hot, burning my skin before I'm able to adjust the heat. After that, it's all bliss and comfort as I dip my head under the water, the droplets feeling like a warm summer sprinkle. I've never had a shower; those are only accessible to the wealthiest.

Usually, at least in my area of District 4, we have showers just outside of our houses, sheltered away from curious, and perverted, onlookers by four wooden walls and a roof. There is a pipe that connects to another pipe that connects to some treated water, and although it's freezing cold, it is much better having that than sea water. After spending hours on a boat fishing, or working at the harbour, many people grow to hate the salty wrinkles that take hours to completely disappear, only to reappear the next working day.

But this water is so much different. Warm and gentle, it detangles my hair, and cascades down my back, easing my sore muscles. I've never felt such luxury. Does everyone in the Capitol have access to this?

I lather my hair with the sweet shampoo, and have to fight off the urge to taste it. My fingers move across my scalp, rubbing the liquid into the roots. It takes a while to wash out, but I eventually get out of the shower, brushing through my hair with my fingers.

After I leave the bathroom, having washed myself and brushed my teeth, I feel as though I just left heaven. My muscles feel relaxed, my head is in a state of bliss.

As I sink into the bed, I am welcomed by the soft material of the sheets. The sheets wrap around me, my body melting into the soft mattress, swallowed by warmth and fuzziness. For a moment, I am stuck in that blissful state, but then my mind wanders.

Do Capitol citizens have access to this? Do any Districts have access to this kind of luxury? Is it 24/7, or do only the wealthiest have access? It doesn't seem fair. 

But I shake those thoughts away. After all, I will most likely be dead soon. It won't matter anymore, whether I suffer or not. Another tribute will probably kill me quickly and swiftly, ending my short-spanned life. 

The least I can do for myself now is enjoy the luxury that is being thrown so viciously at me. For the first time in my life, I've been able to go to bed with a full belly. For the first time in my life, I feel relaxed after washing myself. For the first time in my life, I can go to sleep without any pain, or hunger, or anything. Just bliss. Just comfort. Just luxury.

But that doesn't last long either. Oh, I forgot. Materialistic luxury is fleeting, sleep is the true luxury. But even now, as I'm trapped in this rich-laid room, I cannot afford the luxury of sleep. I twist and turn in the bed for what feels like hours, unable to sleep. 

My stomach twists into knots, and I soon have to take the duvet off of me, as I'm drenched in sweat. The stillness of the room allows my thoughts to wander. 

I'm scared. I'm absolutely fucking terrified. I just willingly threw myself into the hands of death. What was I thinking? That I can win the Games? That I can kill someone, let alone a child? Children?

I take in a deep breath, feeling as the air enters my lungs, and a shiver runs down my spine. The heat I was feeling just moments ago has dissipated, and I'm left a trembling, cold mess. 

I wrap the duvet over myself again, trying to contain the tremors. I'm shivering uncontrollably, my legs and arms twitching as I pull the duvet impossibly closer.

I start thinking of Hali and my mom. Of Annie, her tear-stricken face, the mess her flaming hair had become in her panic. I think of Finnick. Was he disappointed by the fact I had volunteered? Was he angered by it?

I couldn't tell. But it didn't matter in the end; I couldn't let Annie go into that arena. She was too kind, too gentle, too fragile. If there is a world full of those who deserve to be put into an arena, fighting to the death like wild animals, Annie isn't a part of that world. She took care of me after my deep-dive into the icy waters, helped my mother nurse me back to health, she took care of me when we were kids, provided me company and listened to all my secrets and grievances, helped me deal with my fathers sudden abandonment. And now has even promised to look after my loved ones as I willingly shove myself into a gruesome bloodbath.

I could never repay her. I could never repay her for all the things she's done for me and my family.

With a loud sigh, I sit up, clutching the bedsheets tightly in my fists. With the back of my hand I wipe away a few stray tears.

A cup of water sounds nice. 

I put on a bathrobe that has been hung in a fancy wardrobe, still shivering, I put on my fluffy slippers, and press a button. The doors in front of me zip open, shaking lightly as the train passes over something rough.

The corridors are dark, as only a single light shines. I trudge through the cart, sliding another door open. It's even darker in here, this cart being much longer than the one that carried Beau and I, and I think Mags and Finnick and Sylvia have their rooms in here. I quietly walk through, looking at the doors. Maybe Finnick is behind one of them, and if he is, then it's just my luck.

His silence at the dinner table was unnerving. I need to know what he was thinking.

There's two doors on my left, and one to the right. Any normal person would assume the left is for the ladies, right? With that, I gently knock on the door to my right, and I hear someone shuffling about, before the doors slide open and I'm standing face to chest with a shirtless Finnick Odair.

At my height, the tip of my head reaches just the top of Finnick's shoulders. Goddamn, was he always so freakishly tall? I slowly look up to him, my neck bending slightly. He's already staring at me, though there is haziness in those beautiful green eyes of his. 

He doesn't utter a word, and instead reaches for my hand - his skin is scalding hot against my icy hands - and he swiftly pulls me into his room, the doors sliding shut. I bump into his chest head-first.

"Are you okay, Y/n?" He asks, his voice as warm and sweet as honey. I almost melt on the spot, though the shivers continue travelling down my whole body. It takes me a whole minute to compose myself. He definitely knows I like him. My lips open and close, no words leaving, and I'm stuck. What did I come to him for again? With a sigh, Finnick gently takes a hold of my hand and leads me to his bed. As he sits me down on it, I notice that it is far bigger than mine. That's unfair. Though he is the 'Capitol darling'.

"C'mon darling, I'm waiting." He says softly, again. He stands in front of me, and I finally realise that I'm gaping at him like a fish. 

I take a sudden, sharp breath and shake my head. "Uh... I- I needed to talk to you..." I whispered, blinking slowly like a child. A soft smile tugs at his lips, and I instantly know that whatever mood he was in earlier, it's definitely gone now.

"So? To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" He asks, sitting down next to me. He sits criss-crossed, his knee digging into my side. He pulls me closer, rubbing my arm with his hand, muttering something about how cold I was. 

He sure was muscular. What did he do all day? Exercise? I doubt it.

I think for a moment, trying to finalise my words, but with a shake of my head, I decide to shoot straight. "Why were you so quiet at the dinner? I thought you'd be helping out more," I say softly, unsure of whether to continue or not. I look up into his eyes, and see a glint of softness shining in them, "I mean, I know what you're like... But- But it made me nervous..." I finish, looking away and instead choosing to focus on how the skin has begun to peel from my cuticles.

Finnick sighs quietly, his free hand reaching to hold my own.

"I wasn't angry with you, nor disappointed if that's what you're thinking." He states softly, and I swear my heart will collapse if he continues to be so sweet and soft. "It's just that-" He pauses, casting his gaze elsewhere, "I just couldn't imagine what you felt, when you volunteered." He says, gently stroking my hand with his thumb. "You're so good to Annie, you'd do anything for her. And I think it was really selfless." He finished. The words bounced around my head, the meaning completely avoiding any sort of understanding.

Another tremor goes through me, and I tuck my legs against my chest, teeth chattering.

My eyebrows scrunch up in confusion. 

"What do you mean? Annie's the amazing one, not me." I scoff. I shake my head, looking up at him. Just how delusional is he? Me? Selfless? Somehow I can't see how the two mix well together.

Finnick's grip on my hand tightens, and he heaves a sigh. "See, you don't actually realise just how kind you are. I mean- Y-You literally provide for Annie and her father. You helped me out so much, you listened to me when I needed an ear." He says, his tone shifting to a more annoyed one.

I look at him in disbelief.

"You're kidding, right? I mean-" I pause, releasing a shaky breath. "Y-you're the one that saved me. Annie's the one that took care of me. You think I wouldn't do everything in my power to repay you?" I asked, tugging my hand away. "You're being ridiculous, Finnick." I quickly add on, but Finnick completely ignores me, instead opting to change the conversation. 

I don't know if I'm genuinely upset by his words, or if it's the adrenaline that's rushing through me. I rub at my arms, frantically attempting to warm up.

Finnick doesn't reply for a moment, and as I stare at him, I notice how prettily his hair falls over his forehead, a few strands extending over his lash line. 

He sighs quietly, and turns to me again.

"We're not going to argue about this. I see no point in it, and you're clearly too anxious." He says, pulling me closer to his chest. I don't resist or pull away, instead I lean into his warmth. 

"I-I couldn't- I couldn't sleep." Softly I admit.

"I thought so... It would be weird if you were completely fine." He responded, his voice was like honey, dripping sweetly into my ears, warming my heart.

"I know it's weird of me to ask, but... Can I stay with you? Just for tonight, I promise." I ask, my gaze fixed on a hair strand that stuck out in front of my face. I don't hear a response, but Finnick doesn't waste a second to lift me up, moving the duvet before placing my body down on the bed, joining after.

"C'mon then, we don't have all night." He gestures to me, a cheeky smile on his face. That's the Finnick I know. I nod silently, and clamber further up the bed. Finnick pats the empty spot beside him, and as I join, he drapes the velvety duvet over the two of us, before his toned, muscular arm slides beneath my neck. He brings me in closer, and my face rests against his hot chest, the warmth radiating off him as if he was the sun. My own, personal sun.

"We're gonna be cuddling?" I ask, giggling slightly. The shivers have eased, though my hand is still quite shaky. Unsure of where to go, I rest my hand on his toned stomach, fingers itching to glide over his skin, to feel every crevice and stretch of skin that he can offer. I've never been this close to him... Am I going feral? What the hell?

Finnick chuckles in reply, and I feel him shifting slightly again. I look up to him, and notice that he's already staring at me, a toothy grin stretching through his lips. "If you have a problem with it, then I can sleep on the floor. That'd be more favourable, wouldn't it?" His voice is low and gravelly, but also husky and comforting, his hand softly stroking circles into the skin on my arm. I shake my head with a smile and thank him.

We sit like this for a while, just feeling each others warmth. It's much better than sleeping alone, that's for sure. Finnick's natural scent has long since invaded my lungs, but I feel myself becoming drowsy, enamoured by his every characteristic. The hand that was stroking my arm eventually stopped, but he never ceased to hold me tight to him, his nose stroking against my hair as he breathed softly.

No words were exchanged, and we laid there for hours. I would often drip in and out of consciousness, startling the two of us awake with a loud gasp. He would comfort me, realising that I was constantly having nightmares, and he would lull me back into sleep with his honeyed voice, whispering sweet nothings into my ears.

Eventually, Finnick moved positions, turning his body sideways, pulling me even closer into his chest - if that was physically possible. Now, with my face flushed against his chest, I could fully relax. It may have been a bit much, but I lazily draped my leg over his own, not thinking in my drowsiness. Though it seemed to help, as my breathing steadied and I almost lulled myself back into a dreamless sleep. Better than nightmares, at least.

Finnick's soft voice gently awoke me, but it sounded as though he'd also been dosed with the natural sleep syrup.

"It's just like back then, isn't it?" He asks sleepily, his voice raspy. His body had slid further down the bed until my nose rested against his neck, inhaling his sickly-sweet scent. I nod my head lazily, grunting out a throaty 'mmm' in response. I earned myself a chuckle, and a quick 'I'll let you sleep now', before I completely drifted out of consciousness.

I don't wake up again on that night, but slowly rouse myself awake as I feel the sunrays poking at my closed eyes. 

I can't move, as Finnick's arms grip my body, keeping me close to his own. For a while, I lay there, content with just laying with my eyes closed with Finnick holding me.

But the growing anxiety in my stomach gnaws at my nerves, and I can feel my pulse in my ear.

Though I try to fight it, I eventually raise my head, peeking over Finnick's broad shoulder. Still sleepy, I act before I can think. Placing my hand on his waist, I lean in close enough so that my nose nuzzles against his bicep, inhaling Finnick's sickly-sweet scent. It comforts me enough to settle my nerves. 

It's a surprise that I'm not sick of it already.

My eyes slowly flutter open, and I have to blink a couple of times to adjust to the light. The train is still moving, though now we're passing by a grand lake, surrounded by some mountains. Wherever we are at, it sure is beautiful. I look down to Finnick, and a startled sound escapes me as his eyes are already boring into mine, though tiredly. No matter the time of day or night, Finnick Odair will always find it in himself to dish out sarcasm. "Having fun, sweetheart?" He asks, though by the look in his eyes, I can see that he needs no answer.

I shake my head, feeling my cheeks flush out of embarrassment. Did he really just lay there? Whilst I literally nuzzled my nose against him? Am I crazy?! Or... Is he?

I can't form a single reply, and my mind goes blank. May the arena take me already.

"What? Cat got your tongue?" He nudges further, that toothy grin making a reappearance as the sun lazily glosses over his skin. I shake my head 'no', though still can't form a single sentence. I swallow heavily, and take a deep breath.

"Isn't it- Isn't it time?" I ask, feeling my brain short-circuiting.

"Time for what?" Asks Finnick, shuffling lightly. His voice is gravelly and husky from sleep. My fingers gently grip at his flesh, unknowingly. "That tickles y'know." He says, chuckling under his breath.

"What?" I ask, confused.

He doesn't say anything, but instead his gaze points towards my hand, his eyebrows rising slightly. My nails are lightly digging into his skin. I blink once, then I blink once again. As if he just burned me, I retract my hand instantly, hiding it behind my back. I take a deep breath, focusing on letting it out slowly. With an accusatory tone, I ask, "How long have you been awake?"

Finnick laughs, crinkles of skin appearing at the outer corners of his eyes, paired with the dimples that form whenever there is even the tiniest hint of a smile. "Long enough for me to feel you sniffing my arm." He admits, still amused. My face grows red, and I could swear steam was coming out of my ears. A shiver runs through me.

Before I can ask any further questions, or even think of a reply, someone's knocking on the door. Then, a panicked Sylvia Borgnino is speaking.

"Finnick? Finnick are you awake?! You better be!" She shouts, and Finnick swiftly gets out of the bed to open the door. His back is muscular and toned... Wow.

The doors slide open, and he asks, "Sylvia? Did you need anything?" Leaning lazily with his body against the doorframe.

"Yes! I did. I went to wake Y/n but she's not answering the door! Come and-" She pauses, as her eyes catch onto someone in Finnick's bed. "Is that-" She pauses, her fingers reaching up to massage her temple, taking a deep breath. "Is that Y/n?" Finnick slowly turns his head, locking eyes with me, he winks, before he nods, and turns back to Sylvia.

"Yeah, it is." He confirms, his head resting on the doorframe. "Did you need anything from us? 'Cause if not... Then I'll get back to what we were doing." He says, his voice raspy from sleeping, yet still soft and melodic. I can almost hear him smirking.

I can hear a gasp, followed by a, "Where are your manners, Finnick?!" Her tone is accusatory as I see Sylvia eyeing Finnick up and down, a clear scowl on her face. She huffs out a breath, and tiptoes to see over his shoulder.

"Hi...Sylvia?" I ask carefully, my voice light and high-pitched as I'm uncertain of what her reaction will be. Her eyebrows are scrunched up in disapproval, and she doesn't respond to me. Instead, she turns to Finnick, glaring at him with a glint of danger in her eyes. "You two better be ready in 20 minutes! If either of you are late I-" She exclaims, but pauses as she deliberates on what to say. "I'll make sure you two regret it!" And with that she leaves, her footsteps thumping down along the corridor.

"She seemed... Pretty angry." I say quietly, meddling with my bracelet, unsure of Finnick's own mood. Though he is quick to reply, an amused smile tugging at his lips. "She certainly is, she won't let us forget this for a while I don't think." He finishes, scrunching his nose at me, a smile now prominent. The crinkles beneath his eyes deepen with the scrunch, and his dimples make an appearance. I laugh quietly, covering my smile with my palm.

"No, no don't cover yourself honey. You don't need to hide your smile from me." He says, his voice hushed yet soft, as he crawls on the bed towards me. He maintains steady eye contact, and neither of us are willing to look away. If I were to look away now, I'd feel as though I've lost a battle.

I feel myself slipping away, drowning in his sea-green eyes, unable to escape. His gaze is hooded, his long eyelashes lazily fanning over his eyes. I blink rapidly, feeling my breathing becoming heavy. His voice, as sweet as Sleep Syrup, whisks me away back into the present. "Well then, shall we get ready?" He asks, now having laid his chin on my outstretched legs, his hands sturdily holding onto my calves.

I gulp, and nod my head, though neither of us move.

Finnick continues to lay still, his eyes boring into mine. I gently nudge him with my foot, which seems to get a reaction. He slowly rises back onto all fours, and proceeds to get off of me. He walks up to my side of the bed, hand outstretched. He wiggles his fingers, and that toothy grin returns.

"C'mon, I'll take you back to your room. Once you're done, I'll meet you in the dining room." He states, and I lend him my hand. He swiftly pulls me up and we proceed to my room. The walk isn't long, but I'm unwilling to let him go, fear flushing over my body like a wave.

"Finnick..."

"You okay honey?" He asks, not sparing a moment to think to respond to me, it felt very much instinctual. I hesitate, and decide not to pursue the topic. "Nevermind, it's okay. I-I'll see you in a bit." I smile unsurely, waving him away, although he remains still, his eyebrows scrunched up in concern.

"If you wanna talk, if there's something on your mind, you can tell me, Y/n." He says, his voice having taken on a serious undertone. I nod my head with a small smile and thank him, before I step into my room and the door slides shut, separating us.

I take a quick shower, the warm artificial rain slightly easing my nerves, I brush my teeth and change my clothes before I take one last look in the mirror. My hair looks fine, my teeth are clean, but I can still feel the rattling of my heart, the shakiness ghosting my legs, and the pricking of nails at my hands.

I shake my head, taking a deep breath. This is not the time, I think to myself, and exit my room.

The train is eerily quiet as it travels. It is much different on the inside than it is to the outside. Whenever I got to see a train, I was overcome with fear and anxiety, as it would travel awfully fast and make tons of noise. It would make me terrified and anxious, and although I'm on the inside of the train, those same feelings are now making an appearance.

I continue on, my feet shuffling towards the next cart, though I feel them becoming numb.

There is loud chatter coming from the room, and as I come closer, I can hear Beau telling a story, and soon I can see Finnick and Mags listening intently, giving their breadcrumb opinions on the matter at hand. As I enter the room, Beau exclaims a loud, "Y/n!", and everyone turns their heads. Mags greets me with a strained voice and a gentle smile as she smothers a piece of toast with a clumpy liquid, Sylvia and Finnick turn to me with smiles. 

"We've been waiting for you, Y/n. Come, sit with us." Finnick says as I make my way towards him, and I notice his smile from earlier is now gone. 

"We've been discussing the games, and everyone agrees on what course of action we'll take." Bringing up a steamy cup to her lips, Sylvia says before sipping on some black liquid. 

"If you want me to play the guitar then I'm gonna need to know what song I'll be playing to." I state quietly, lathering some toast in jam. 

My stomach twists and turns as I'm reminded of what's to come. 

The Games. The bloodbath. The paparazzi and the flashy cameras. I'm gonna be put up on display like a wild animal. I'm going to be placed in that arena, forced to fight to the death against twenty-three other tributes. I feel my stomach drop, and one of my legs begins to bounce up and down rapidly under the table. 

I might as well step off the metal plate before the gong sounds and blast myself to pieces. I remember watching a tribute in the Games a few years back. She was fiddling with something in her hands, trembling so much that she dropped it. It was far too late for her to catch it, because as soon as it hit the ground, she was blasted into pieces. 

I pitied her, though now I considered sharing the same fate. How ironic. 

Either way I'm trapped. I'm trapped in this train, I'll be trapped in the Capitol, and I will be trapped in the arena. 

The only means of escape is death. 

Finnick continues to discuss the plan with the others, and I'm able to get the gist of it. It's enough for me to realise he wants me to help Beau in the arena, which I don't have an issue with in and of itself.

The issue will be when we have to split up, or if we both end up getting through to the final showdown. What will we do? Fight each other? 

I lean back into my chair, abandoning the jam toast on a porcelain plate, barely having taken a bite out of it. I can't eat anymore, I don't want to. I swallow thickly, but notice how dry my throat has become. 

I take in a deep, shaky breath, and think of reaching for some water. 

Water. Water sounds nice. Reaching for it shouldn't be too difficult to do... Right? The bouncing of my leg has increased in speed. I feel goosebumps travelling down my arms.

I can't.

The cart feels so much colder now, so less spacious, and my hands and arms feel numb. I tune out the conversation in front of me, instead focusing on a faraway, high-pitched noise. Was that the train screeching against the tracks? Isn't it supposed to be silent? 

It starts off slowly; the trembling. A couple shivers here and there, but it soon turns into full-blown chills. They really must've crammed the air conditioning up. I look to everyone, from Beau to Mags, Sylvia to Finnick. But they all seem fine? Maybe- Maybe it's just me. My hands feel clammy, sweaty. I try wiping them on the long sleeves of my shirt, but the clamminess doesn't go away.

I need to get out of here. 

The walls feel too close, and my head feels heavy. I close my eyes, lifting a shaky hand to massage at my temple. My breaths are shaky. My leg doesn't stop bouncing. The shivers continue. 

Get up, get up, get up, get up!

My legs don't listen, and I bite down harshly on my bottom lip. Tears start pricking at my eyes, and I have to blink rapidly to get rid of them.

I hear a voice. 

It feels so close yet so far. 

The tears are now fully welled-up in my eyes, on the verge of falling. I bite down harshly on my bottom lip, feeling the skin crackle under my teeth. 

The iron taste of blood sits on my tongue.

I look around, anywhere. But I catch the gazes of everyone around me. They have stopped talking between themselves.

They've stopped talking? 

Why aren't they talking?

I look down at my lap, heaving in a shaky breath. It sounds as if I'm wheezing. 

"Y/n?" It feels distant, and I'm not sure who the voice belongs to. A warm hand nudges me, and I look up, seeing Finnick's sea-green eyes boring into mine.

There is a clear concern glinting across them, and his mouth is slightly parted. 

I can't breathe. I can't get enough air into my lungs. Why can't I breathe? 

Calm down, Y/n. Calm down.

But I don't calm down. Instead, I begin gasping for air, my chest shakily heaving up and down, the tears escaping like water from a broken dam. My cheeks flush, and I try to supress my sobs. I bring a shaky hand up to my mouth, shaking my head in the process.

I feel arms wrapping around me, and soon I'm scooped up into the air, my head resting against a sturdy chest. It's Finnick. 

In any other situation, I'd try to sniff his scent, or focus on the heat radiating from his body. But now, all I can do as I try to breathe, is cover my mouth. The sobs grow louder, and more tears slide down my cheeks. 

"Fuck... Fuck, fuck fuck!" I wail out, my knuckles aggressively wiping at my eyes. I'm not supposed to be crying. I'm supposed to be strong, I'm supposed to be tough.

My body bounces up and down as Finnick runs through the carts, eventually leading me into a room.

Finnick soon lays me down into some silky sheets, although I can't tell who's room I find myself in. 

My chest is aggressively heaving up and down, but I can't catch my breath. 

My chest feels tight.

I supress another loud sob. 

The room suddenly becomes dark, and I find some comfort in that.

"I w-wasn't-... I-I wasn't supposed to cry!" My voice is sickeningly high-pitched and drawn out, and I cry out, covering my face with one hand as I turn on my side, gripping the sheets tightly in my other one.

I can feel Finnick's hand softly caressing my hair, but I continue to cry.

His arms wrap up around me, and I can hear him telling me 'It's okay's'.

I manage to supress my sobs and wails, though my lips are tugged downwards in a scowl, my eyebrows furrowed and I'm pretty sure I look pathetic. Not strong, or tough. Just pathetic. And Finnick is witnessing all this.

"Get out..." I say quietly, a small sob leaving my throat. 

"What?" Finnick leans in closer, unable to hear me coherently.

"Get out!" I exclaim. "P-please get out!" I shout, though it's not as loud as I convince myself it is. "I don't want you to see me like this..." I insist, my voice hoarse and small. 

More sobs break out through me, and I feel more tears welling up in my eyes.

"Please... Just leave me alone-" I continue, wrapping my arms around myself. 

Finnick shakes his head, repeatedly saying soft 'no's'. I ignore him, my hands pushing away at his chest. 

Without a second thought, he scoops me up into his lap, forcing my face into his chest. My sobbing only becomes stronger, but it soon eases into soft hiccups as Finnick begins humming a lullaby, stroking my hair with one hand, cradling me with the other. 

I focus on the sound of his voice. 

His voice is so lovely... So soft.

I close my eyes again, grimacing as I let the tears flow.

It takes a while of Finnick humming and caressing me, but my breathing eventually steadies, with occasional, throaty sobs making me hiccup. I continue wiping aggressively at my eyes, but the longer that Finnick hums, the more I let them cascade freely, until eventually they stop and I feel the wetness of my eyelashes against my cheeks. 

We sit like this for a who knows how long, long after my crying has ceased. A scowl remains on my face, but I continue listening. It has been a long time since someone has comforted me like this... 

The last person I remember doing this... Is my grandma. 

She was a wonderful woman, though strict at times and painfully honest, she never failed to show me just how much she loved me. Guiding me through meltdowns as a child, in just the same exact way as Finnick is now.

"I'm tired..." I softly mutter to Finnick, hiding my face further in his chest. My voice is raw from crying, and my eyes slightly burn from all the salty tears and rough knuckles. Finnick's shirt is damp with them, but I don't think he minds it too much.

"D'you wanna sleep? I can stay with you if you'd like..." He whispers softly, his large hand coming down to caress the side of my face, his thumb lovingly stroking the apple of my cheek. I nod my head gently, and feel the tears trying to return, but I blink them away. "Okay, we'll take a nap, and then we can talk about what happened, okay honey?" He continues, his voice sounding as sweet as honey tastes. I sniffle quietly, and nod my head again, doubting that my voice is steady enough to talk more. 

Finnick lays us down on the bed, and drapes the duvet over me, his chest presses against my back. I close my eyes, and feel the drowsiness slowly lure me into a dreamless sleep.

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𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (fem reader)

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑

𝟓.𝟏𝐤 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 (𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬) 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏, 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 𝐀𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐥, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜? 𝐀𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐈𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐂𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐚𝐫 𝐅𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬..

Crystal water swallowed me within its' jaws, rubbery kelp fluttered against my body as I swam through, observing the numerous bubbles that toppled their way towards the surface. I felt a childlike laughter erupt within my chest, and as I let it out with a cheshire grin on my face, I was met with a surprise.

Normally I'd have to swim back up to the surface, refill my lungs with oxygen before I could continue cruising away, but not this time. As the air escaped me, I didn't feel myself suffocating, didn't feel that familiar burn. Instead, I breathed the salty seawater in, as though it was the freshest, crispiest air I've had the pleasure of coming across.

Though the initial shock wore off quickly, and I soon found myself freely floating, spinning around, exploring deeper and deeper until I felt the grainy sand rub against my feet, wafting upwards as my feet dug into it momentarily.

In the far away distance, a speck of gold caught my attention, lingering just behind a boulder. It flowed in the water, casting some sort of spell on me.

As I neared it, a pair of emerald eyes came into view, inspecting me with a tinge of inquisivity.

The closer I got, the more I could see, and subconsciously I knew who it was; I just couldn't recall his name. It felt as though I had known him all my life, and yet I've forgotten him.

His tan skin glinted in the green hue of the water, his grin revealing a row of perfect, pearl-white teeth, his hands gripping onto the boulder which separated us.

I swam closer, placing my hands gently against the cool surface, nearing my face to his with a smile. Our noses almost brushed against each other, his hand coming up to cup my cheek, eyes searching mine lovingly.

A sudden shadow swept over us, and he no longer had that smile plastered on.

His eyes lost that starry spark, and were instead filled with an empty void.

I looked to him, his name leaving my lips, but I couldn't hear it.

I couldn't hear my voice.

I couldn't hear myself.

A burning sensation erupted in my chest, pricking against soft tissue like needles on skin; pricking and tearing.

I looked to the boy, my heart rattling against my chest as the burning intensified. A wildfire under water.

My limbs moved on their own, searching for the source of the sun rays, and my body moved upwards, until he gripped my ankle.

I didn't dare to look down. My feet were kicking violently, arms thrashing as I tried to swim, coughing and inhaling more salty water.

The grip on my skin began to crush at my bone, bruising the skin in shades of pinks and purples and yellows as though it was a canvas. My gaze slowly dropped down, eyelids fluttering as I felt the temperature drop, embracing my body in an icy hold.

"Y/n..." A honeyed voice whispered to me, resonating within the stillness of the water.

I could no longer see the sand, or the kelp. Only those eyes, his eyes. Swallowing me into a void filled with nothingness, my screams and thrashes more futile with each pull.

He pulled, and pulled, and pulled. He pulled until my body was trapped within his steel embrace, his nose ducking to hide in my neck, his hands gripping at my arms until all my thrashing ceased, until my eyelids fell over my eyes, darkness falling over me like a frosty sheet.

"Y/n? Wake up." His voice reached my ears, and my eyes snapped open. My breathing laboured, palms sweaty, heart startled.

"Hey, you need to wake up now." Was that Finnick? Why did he sound so... nervous?

I turned around, towards the direction that his warm, soft hand came from, and saw that he was leaning over my body, concern rippling across his features.

"Finnick? What's wrong?" I muttered, bringing a lazy hand up to my eye. I felt my gut twist, and my heart dropped as I remembered. "Are we there yet?"

Finnick confirmed with a nod, his lips pressed thinly together, hand holding me still. His mouth opened, and closed, like he was at a loss for words. With a shake of his head, he released a tired sigh, rubbing his hand over the side of his face.

"We're almost at the Capitol, Mags and Sylvia need you to be dressed and ready," He paused, inhaling deeply, "They want you and Beau to go wave at the citizens."

At that, a snort left me.

"You're being ridiculous. They want to parade us before the show's even started?" I asked, raising my eyebrows at him.

"Yes, yes they do. That's what I did, and that's what the two of you will do." Finnick confirmed, a tint of annoyance lacing his tone. "I need you to get dressed, alright? You think you can do that for me?" He continued, lowering his face so he could keep level eye contact, his voice a low baritone drumming against my ears.

With an uncertain nod of my head, I released a sigh. "Look- Finnick, I- I'm sorry for- you know, for earlier..." I said, stumbling over my words as I felt another emotion get added into the swirl in my gut.

Finnick's hand rose up to wave me off, and he refused, insisting that it was 'fine' and 'totally understandable'.

"Anyone in your place would have done the same." His voice soothed me, his hand giving me one last squeeze before he rose from my bed, heading towards the door. Just before he was going to leave, he halted, his hand lightly pressing against the door frame, eyes casted down and away from me.

Then, he turned to me again, the glint in his eyes hardened over like stone.

"Look, I will do everything, and I mean everything, in my power to help you. To bring you home." He said, quickly turning back to the door as he pressed a button, the medal doors sliding open. 

"For Annie."

He didn't mean for me to hear it, but I did. And my heart felt as though it was about to shatter into a million pieces as I showered, the warm droplets of water covering my own, thick, salty tears.

The ride to the Capitol didn't take as long as I had expected; it was rather mind-numbing.

As soon as the train had breached through the stone gates, my eyes were bombarded with a flurry of colours; vibrant pinks, oranges, yellows, and so on.

It was ridiculous, the citizens looked almost delirious as they hollered and cheered when Finnick appeared, his face displayed across every single TV screen at the station.

The train had significantly slowed down, enough for some brave citizens to stick their unnaturally coloured hands on the crystal clear glass, leaving smudges and wet, sloppy tear stains as they chased after Finnick, screaming, begging and pleading for at least a glance.

Finnick, of course, didn't disappoint.

Flashing a pearly-white, toothy grin, his dimples on display, his ember eyes had looked directly at the cameras, his body being put on film as the cameras scanned down from the tip of his luscious golden locks, to his torso and more.

This was all just part of the plan. Part of the games.

I had looked up at him in that moment, noticing how that toothy grin, the one I loved so much, hadn't reached his eyes at all.

Maybe if Annie had been there, maybe if he could look after her, he'd seem more joyful.

Or worried.

I remembered how he'd smile so brightly every time she'd enter the room; as though she was the moon to his sun. He never failed to make some form of physical contact with Annie, whether it was pretending she had something in her hair, or holding her hand as he would lead us somewhere, me being left behind, of course.

Maybe if Annie was here instead of me, Finnick would have a better support for his own struggles. 

Not that Annie would be completely okay, but the two were much better together than apart. During my long friendship with them, I have come to learn that they often snuck out together, going on long walks on the beach, or simply walking around the edges of town, to avoid detection.

I remember seeing the two together as I was on my way home after another visit to the seals. 

They were laughing so, so loud,  it was a surprise that no one had heard them. They were causing a ruckus, splashing one another with water, golden rays of sunshine illuminating their bright, infectious smiles. 

That day, I witnessed the two almost kiss, though Annie had prevented it. From the treeline, I could just about make out the furrow between her eyebrows, and the way her lips moved so animatedly. Finnick had responded with a shake of his head, and I almost pictured a cartoonish question mark pop out of thin air, right above his head.

I didn't linger long enough to listen in on their conversation though; my mind was swirling with stormy rain clouds and thunder.

I always knew the two would fall for each other, but I guess a small part of me still hoped for Finnick to return my hidden affections.

Oh well. 

That evening, on my way home, I had released my anger, my frustration, and most of all, my pain, by kicking a boulder until my ankle had swollen over with excruciating pain.

Whatever. 

It didn't matter anymore, I was going to be dead soon enough anyway.

With a shake of my head, I pushed the memory away, my heart stinging just the smallest bit more, tears pricking at my eyes as I side-hugged Beau, putting on my prettiest smile for the cameras.

The rest was a blur, and as I sat in the cold, grey room, all that my mind could focus on was the strange sensations on my skin.

My prep team, who were no better than your average Capitol citizen, had smothered my body in sticky, sweltering wax, mercilessly ripping out my hair by the roots.

They wore sinister grins, their voices an unnaturally high pitch, gasping at the amount of hair they'd managed to rip out in one go.

They had pricked at my eyebrows with a small pair of tweezers, cut my nails, washed and brushed my hair, and then lathered my body in expensive-smelling oils. They eased the burning and dry sensations that the wax had left, flooding my nose with the faintest scent of lavender.

Once they had deemed me to be ready, they left the room in a flurry, leaving me shivering in a paper-thin blue gown.

Like a sitting duck, I took a moment to observe my surroundings; grey stony walls, a surgical table, and an empty stationary table. My prep team had taken great care to take all of their tortuous equipment, leaving me completely and utterly defenceless.

What if my stylist was dangerous? What if they tried something, and I defended myself?

Capitol punishment.

The grey walls seemed to have cracks all over them, expertly hidden under the dim lighting of the room. Had previous tributes tried to break free? Had they smashed everything this small room could provide?

I could imagine some of them, the tallest and the strongest, flipping the strange surgical table I was sat on top of, into the nearby walls in a fit of rage.

In a fit of panic, of horror.

Of helplessness.

A shiver ran down my spine as I imagined the previous years' largest and highest rated tributes, reduced into raging balls of fear and anxiety, clawing desperately at any semblance of security. 

Or maybe they weren't raging or violent, maybe they were simply diminished into cowering marbles of apprehension.

The doorknob clicking open had caught my attention, my head turning to follow the sound. 

A young man came through, a stone-cold expression gracing his features. His jaw was sharp, pulling in smoothly to his plump, peach pink lips, his nose almost as sharp. His eyelids sparkled, and his eyes had an unnaturally honeyed tone, each blink of his eyelids uncovering amber stones. 

"The name's Hazel, I'll be your stylist for this year's Hunger Games." His voice was velvety smooth as he quirked an eyebrow, looking me up and down with an almost patronising gaze. 

I thanked the heavens above for not letting my mouth droop open as I gaped at the man. I had never seen anyone like him, so glamorous, so.. Confident? I couldn't tell whether it was confidence or pure assholery as he finished looking me over, turning to look back as the door opened once again.

"C'mon, hurry up now, I don't have all day for this." Hazel snapped out, a vein popping on the side of his temple as he scolded a pair of peacekeepers, totally unfazed by the heavy guns that they were carrying in one hand each.

The other hands were preoccupied with carrying a large, raven suitcase. From how they heaved, I could tell it was packed with heavy tools. 

As soon as the suitcase touched the floor, Hazel barked orders at them, telling them to get out. 

And once the door had closed, he turned to me, his lips no longer pulled into a purse, and his alluring eyes all the more softer. "Now honey, would you like to come help me get this up?" He asked, his tone smooth like butter.

With a small nod, I got up, helping the man bring the suitcase on top of the table I'd just been sitting on. 

"Holy Mary, what the hell is in that bag?" I looked over to him, my eyes wide and unblinking, arm numb at my side. Hazel huffed out a breathy, snappy laugh, ignoring my question as he reached to open the suitcase.

"This, my dear, is a sewing machine, and those are my fabrics." He pointed with his finger, leaning over to rub the numerous coloured fabrics between his thumb and pointer finger. "You'll see what kind of hocus pocus magic I can do with these soon enough."

My eyes trailed over the fabrics, the different types of needles and threads, all in various colours that I had only seen on rainbows and TV screens, never on the clothing that we had in District 4. 

"Now tell me, are you scared of electricity?" Hazel asked, having leaned his face closer to mine, his sharp eyebrows and hooded eyelids casting a dark shadow over his golden orbs. 

"Hazel never ended up telling me his plans for my parade outfit," I spoke softly to Mags and Sylvia in between spoonful's of a creamy seafood soup, the familiar and yet strange taste of crab lingering on my tongue, "But he did choose out 'Lilac purple' and 'Electric blue' fabrics for my dress." I said with a shrug, eagerly reaching over for a fancy piece of bread called a 'garlic baguette'. 

It was heaven on Earth for my rumbling, exhausted stomach.

Hazel had kept me in that room for longer than I thought, having matched different colours to my skin tone, exclaiming excitedly about how different colours and shades had brought out the best or the worst features on me. 

"So you're telling me he didn't utter a single word to you about what you'll be wearing?" Sylvia asked, rubbing her pointer finger over the plump skin of her bottom lip. 

"Oh, he did ask me if I was scared of... Electricity?" I asked, hesitantly, my hand faltering in the air as I stopped eating the soup. My eyes wandered between the creamy, white liquid, and Sylvia's clouded eyes. 

From the corner of my eye, I could see Beau scarfing down his food, traces of a chocolate liquid visible on the corners of his mouth, his fingers lathered in some sort of oily liquid as he chomped down happily on a piece of deep fried chicken.

A small smile tugged at my lips; the boy was absolutely adorable. His curly locks had been tied into a small, palm-like ponytail to avoid it getting in his eyes, or worse, his food. He wasn't defensive or protective over his food, but his pearly blue irises shined with a newfound eagerness to try out all of the dishes that the Capitol had to offer.

Finnick himself joined in on the conversation once he had finished eating, his cheeks puffed up and stuffed with food, like that of a hamsters'. 

"I assume it will be something similar to what they have in mind for Beau, right?" Finnick asked, looking between everyone seated at the table. 

Earlier, he had muttered something about not having the stylists here and how it was so strange, though it hadn't mattered 'too' much, he had said sarcastically. The business of the stylists could only either make or break the tributes, after all. 

"I- I want to... T-to sleep." Mags rasped out, her voice strained and throaty as she massaged her throat, clutching her armrest to stand up. Finnick rushed to her side, his hands gently offering support to the woman, a warm smile gracing his face and a glint of worry in his eyes.

I took in a deep breath, lifting the bowl of soup to my lips to ensure I finished the whole thing, before I looked to Beau. "C'mon little man, let's go sleep now, alright?" I asked, though my voice seemed to sound so foreign to my ears now.

Beau turned his head to me, eyes looking up in confusion. 

"Y/n? Are you okay?" Concern laced his tone, and the boy placed down his fruit desert, wiping his hands on the table cloth. 

His concern was valid, as I felt dizzy as soon as I stood up from my chair, a numbness made my legs sway like the dessert I had back in the train cart, jelly. 

"I-I'm fine Beau, come on, let's go." I said, my hands gently taking a hold of his shoulders as I led him to his room. My head swayed, and I found myself leaning on Beau for support instead. My chest heaved up and down, and it felt as though there was a certain weight squeezing my lungs. But it didn't... Hurt?

The sound of footsteps made its way to my eardrums, but before I could move my head to look, a voice followed, and I instantly recognised it as belonging to Finnick. "Beau, what's wrong?" His voice seemed so close, but so far away as I felt him place a warm, reassuring hand on my shoulder.

Whatever Beau replied with, it had caused Finnick to place his other hand on my forehead, his eyes shooting me a concerned look as Finnick muttered something. 

"D-Don't... touch me." I muttered, taking my hands off of Beau's shoulders, which proved to be a bad decision as my legs instantly crumbled underneath me, my bottom landing on the carpeted floor with a loud 'thump'. 

"Ow."

"Come on Y/n, let's get you to bed." Finnick muttered, his voice now right by my ear, his breath fanning over my cheek as he lifted me into the air, moving towards my temporary room.

"Come on Beau." He said, his chin nudging against the top of my head.

"Put me down, F-Finnick. I can... walk-" My breaths became heavier, and it became all the more difficult to speak. My head lolled from left to right, right to left, and so forth, until it finally slumped against Finnick's collarbone, spots of black dancing in my vision as my eyelids drooped. 

I could hear the door to my room sliding open, and soon enough Finnick had placed me on a mattress, unwrapping his arms from my body. But now that I was suddenly so tired and sleepy, I remained latching onto him, having a newfound strength to grip onto his bicep.

"You can't go now.." I muttered, my head swaying lazily to the side as I opened my eyes, though droopily.

A quiet laugh escaped his lips as Finnick shook his head, that beautiful toothy grin gracing his features once more.

"Love, I need to get Beau to his room now, okay? I'll come back, I promise." He muttered, his voice husky and laced with a sweetness only I seemed to experience. My heart fluttered lightly at his words, and with a soft nod, I slowly set Finnick free.

His large hand came down to caress the side of my head, his thumb caressing my cheek lovingly. Was it lovingly though? It may have been forced. Who knows.

"I'll come back, honey." He whispered, and his hand slid down to give my hand a reassuring squeeze, before his touch left me and I was embraced by the chilliness of my room.

The last thing I heard was the sound of the door opening, and Finnick's honeyed voice muttering 'goodnight Y/n', before everything turned black and I fell unconscious.

The cheers and screams of the citizens shrouded me in a haze of puzzlement and anxiety, my thumb and pointer finger twirling and tinkering with the thin, golden bracelet enclosed over the wrist of my dominant hand. 

I wasn't with the other tributes yet, instead, Hazel was still fixing my dress, fluffing it up and ensuring the string of lights attached to the soft fabric was working and had no faults in it. 

'If one light breaks, the rest will not light up.' He had stated, pursing his plump lips again as his eyes narrowed, glaring at the remote switch. 

"As soon as you emerge from the lobby, I want you to flip the switch on, okay?" Hazel asked, his eyebrows raised high, his eyes staring into my soul almost threateningly. 

It was difficult to tell whether he cared about me as a person, or as a tool to reach more fame.

Though as the stylist of numerous tributes in the annual Hunger Games, with vast amounts of success, Hazel had climbed his way to the top and earned respected amongst the best of the best. 

So to be honest, he was probably most concerned about his reputation. 

"Do you remember how to turn the lights on, Y/n?" He asked, his tone gravely and gaze unrelenting. 

Swallowing down a forming lump, I nodded, my eyes unchanging as I refused to let my anxiety show. 

Hazel sighed, seemingly satisfied as he nodded and squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. 

"Now stop fiddling with that bracelet, it makes you look nervous. It makes you look weak." Hazel spoke, adding extra emphasis onto 'weak', though his gaze had turned mellow and buttery, his hand patting down my hair. 

He led me to the elevator, a hand placed on my shoulder as we stepped into the metal box.

"I won't be set on fire will I?" I turned to him, gaze worried, my hands clenched into fists as they fell to my sides. 

A warm chuckle escaped his lips, and Hazel shook his head, his features almost unmoving. The corners of his lips had risen slightly though, so I knew he was amused.

"No, these are battery powered, so you'll be okay." He said, pointing to the lights scattered over my dress, glinting under the bright lightbulb above our heads.

I nodded my head in understanding, and turned to face the doors, heart beating wildly in my chest.

The elevator soon came to a stop, and I felt my stomach churning as I heard the machinery whirring above and around us, a sound coming from the doors.

"Now go show them all who's the boss." Hazel spoke softly into my ear, his hands giving my shoulders a soft push as the doors fully opened, and I was greeted by the sight of fifteen other tributes, all coming to a standstill, all heads turning in my direction.

The screams and hollers of the citizens had significantly risen in volume, and I fought hard not to look up in awe, as well as terror.

"Don't let them see that this fazes you honey." Hazel's voice softly muttered, even though he was a good distance away from me to be able to hear. He was carrying the flowy end of my dress, ensuring that the delicate, lavender fabric does not touch the ground ever.

A blue shawl hung from my shoulders, the tips reaching my knees as I strode forward, my face unmoving, chin pointed in the direction of my carriage, although my eyes were scanning over every other tribute present.

Most District partners were already at their carriages, stood on the vehicles as they watched expectantly. Some other tributes and I had certainly taken our time, but time and effort were essential to ensuring we get sponsors.

The boy from District 2 was eyeing me up and down, a scowl present on his face as he turned to his partner, his lips moving animatedly. I think his name was Geralt, or something, and he was just two years younger than me, though possessed a much stronger, much taller figure.

I had watched him carefully during the replay of the reaping, and he never showed any hint of fear, or dread or anxiety. He clutched his District partners, Amelie's, hand proudly, fisting them into the air before the screen had switched.

As I approached my carriage, I looked further ahead, noticing the stocky ginger girl from District 7 looking my way, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. 

I think her name was Ophelia, I think.

It was her body that took me by surprise; she was awfully muscular. And yet, still just as skinny as most tributes present. Maybe less so than those from Districts 8, 10 and 12, but nevertheless, she was intimidating as fuck. 

Her hair was long and thick, some strands had been tied into braids, which flawlessly fell over her shoulders, reaching her hips. She was wearing an ember green dress, which was accentuated with golden lines and swirls, travelling all over the expanse of her body.

"Quit staring." Hazel's voice ripped me out from my thoughts, now much closer as I was aided onto the carriage designated for District 4. For me and Beau. 

"I wasn't staring." I hissed out, fighting hard not to scowl at Hazel's accusation.

Why would I be staring?

I'm supposed to be the star of the show, in his words.

Hazel didn't respond, and instead, looked around, searching for Beau and his styling partner, Melina. I hadn't yet seen the woman, but Beau's eyes sparkled like stars when he described her thick, curly pink hair. 

She had said that she would dress Beau as a young fisherman, to which nobody objected. 

Minutes passed as Hazel and I waited, more tributes filing into the lobby, until finally, Beau, Finnick, Mags and Melina came into view. 

Beau wore a straw hat that seemed way too big for his head, his golden curly locks peeking out slightly under the hat, his dark blue overalls and checkered shirt fitting him adorably. Before I could move an inch, I felt Hazel's sharp gaze on me, and I remained still, wishing to pinch Beau's cheeks. 

"Y/n! You look stunning..." Beau said, his eyes widening in amazement as he looked over my dress, his hands extending as if to feel the fabric. 

Hazel's hand extended out, and he took a tight hold of the boy's hands, shaking his head in disapproval. "You can look, but you can't touch." He said, his tone as sharp as a butcher's knife. 

Beau visibly gulped, nodding his head as he tugged his hand free of Hazel's grasp.

"Hazel! Don't be mean to my little pumpkin over here!" Melina scolded, slapping the man's hand away as she shook her head at him disapprovingly. Hazel furrowed his eyebrows, tutting at her as he ignored her. 

The woman gasped, her pink-dyed eyebrows raised comically as she moved her head to the side like a snake, making her way back into my stylist's view. "You will not be ignoring me, do you hear me?" She asked, waving her pointer finger from side to side in front of his face.

An annoyed groan left Hazel's throat, and at that, Melina laughed, her body shaking animatedly. 

"You're as cute as ever, Hazel dear!" She shouted, smacking his back with the force of a god. 

Just before the man could reply, he was interrupted by an announcement,

"The tributes shall now file out in numerical order, please, give a round of applause to Geralt and Amelie from District 1!" A man's voice shouted over an intercom, followed by loud cheers and hollers from the citizens.

"Come on, Beau. Hop on that cart." Melina said, and wasted no time in grabbing the boy under his armpits, heaving him up next to me.

I turned to Beau, giving the faintest of smiles as the boy gripped the carriage with a newfound anxiety.

My lips opened as I was about to speak, but I was interrupted by an all too familiar baritone of a voice.

"Y/n?" Finnick asked, popping into view at the last second. I looked down at him, not sparing another smile his way as my heart palpitated in my chest. "You look- you look gorgeous." His voice was soft, husky as his eyes gazed at me as if I was the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. 

I mentally thanked Hazel for the layers of makeup he had lathered onto my face, as I knew they would hide my blush. What betrayed me though, was the soft 'oh' that I let out.

I'm gonna kick myself for this later.

Just as I was about to utter a 'thank you', our carriage began pulling away, and with one last glance back, I saw an unknown emotion swirling in the green sea of Finnick's irises, as well as the way a soft, toothy grin that made its way onto his face.

"Show them who's boss!" Melina shouted, and just before I fully turned to face the oncoming audience, I saw Finnick and Hazel send me a 'thumbs-up'. 

With a deep breath, I straightened my back, raised my chin, gripped my fists onto the carriage. The horses that pulled us trotted slowly, entering the long stretch of lights, cheers and screams. A sea of colourful bodies welcomed us, and my eyes widened as I remembered the switch.

As if on cue, a man's voice, this time I recognised it to be that of Caesar Flickerman's, boomed through numerous speakers.

"Please, give a round of applause for the Tributes of District 4; Y/n and Beau!" His voice shouted, and I took that as my cue to turn on the switch. Instantly, Beau and I were engulfed in a swirling sea of lights, all twirling around my dress as I felt the back of it flowing in a gentle breeze.

I looked ahead, taking in slow, deep breaths through my nose.

I felt Beau's hand reach for mine, and I looked down to him, casting a soft smile as we held each other's hands, squeezing reassuringly.

"Beau, show them who's the boss." I said softly, and the boy looked at me with a small smile, followed by a nod of his head.

"Show them who's boss, Y/n."

Tags;

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the only thing that matters.

pairings. finnick odair x fem!reader

about. finnick is the only one to have ever gotten past your quiet and stoic shell, but neither of you think it’s for the good.

warnings. eh idk

ricky rocks. the hunger games series is honest to god one of the best to ever touch screens.

johanna hated watching you and finnick. it killed her.

since day one, johanna, like all of the others were closely fixated on you and every move you made. you were alluring solely due to the fact that you were silent and completely detached from the destruction of your reality. there was a large admiration for you and whether it was due to your great skill in combat or ability to keep an unwavering face when under the worse of pressure, no one could choose. you were a mystery.

johanna couldn’t figure you out; not for the life of her, and it was absolutely frustrating. especially when her greatest competition did.

of course. of fucking course it was finnick. she wasn’t surprised the more she thought about it—finnick could get anybody to talk. so of course it had to be him who would unravel you like a ball of yarn.

he was prying, and had no problem with being a pest if that meant he got what he wanted—and he always got what he wanted.

it was astounding to say the least.

“they’re sickening aren’t they?” katniss almost jumped at johanna’s jarring words that interrupted the silence.

it took her a moment to realize that the girl was talking about you and finnick and johanna had caught her staring.

“i don’t know… i think it’s interesting,” katniss bit the inside of her cheek as she watched finnick smile genuinely while watching you speak. the two of you were the only thing keeping the group from not seeming depressive. “they seem like polar opposites and yet this is the first time i have ever seen her smile… and it’s because of him.”

once you had gotten out of the blood rain with johanna, crossing paths with katniss and finnick and the rest of their group—you had begun to clean yourself off in the water before finnick had dunked you with reunition. there was no reason, and katniss had thought you would kill him once you came back up, but there you had been; gut laughing, trying to catch your breath while also attempting to return the favor.

johanna chuckles, “he’s a fucking dickhead for that,” she tsks, shaking her head, still watching the two of you, “but i guess it’s sweet in some fucked up way. both found each other amidst of all… this.”

she hated watching the two of you, because it reminded her of something she couldn’t have, something she lost, and something the two of you could so fastly lose as well with any wrong step.

“this is where we finally die, isn’t it?” your eyes watch the calm waves as they slowly wash up further onto the shore, just enough to kiss your feet.

your words make finnick narrow his brows, almost frowning real hard as he looks over to you. you feel distant, out of body and too far for him to reach and yet you were more than close. he feels uneasy at the tone of your voice, like you were almost ready to give up.

“far from it…” he slightly tips his head to look at your face, but he sees nothing, receives nothing despite his hope that you’d be in touch and full of emotion like all other times the two of you have been together. “hey, why?”

his hand holds your shoulder, almost reaching for your face, but you meet his eyes before he could further do so. the concern melted into his face made you inhale sharply, feeling slightly bad for causing the borderline stress in his eyes, “finn, i didn’t mean it… like that.”

“you ready to give up on me?” his eyebrows raise, trying to curve his lips in a accustomed smirk, but you can still see the worry.

“not yet,” you shook your head, almost scoffing as you look back out to the sun sinking into the trees, “just thinking.”

“think more logically, y/n,” he settles more comfortably and over the panic, using his index finger to lightly you tap on the side of your cheekbone. “if i die, who’s going to be your friend? keep you alive?”

you rolled your eyes, mumbling, “we both know i’m more than capable keeping myself alive.”

“we do,” it wasn’t the answer he was looking for. “but outside of the games, what’re you going to do with yourself?”

you shook your head at his silly scenarios, now looking to him with something he didn’t like, “we just try to die together then.”

“she’s the only thing he cares about,” johanna stares harder than katniss was, watching the way his hand clasps the back of your neck while pulling you closer to him. “truly.”

“this is unlike you. since when is death a concern to you?”

“since i met you,” you purse your lips, almost in shame that an obvious dent was made in your principles when you met finnick. “you make me feel so helpless.”

he chuckles, shaking his head at the words coming from your mouth that some could find offense in, “oh, i know you love me.” but it was finnick, and he knew your meaning behind them and he knew exactly how you felt.

before, you were both considered some of the capitols top killers with nothing to lose. but now, everything seemed to not be in your favor the moment you met each other. you had everything to lose now and you both knew it.

“we’ll be the death of each other, y/n.”

navigation.

@transias @cc13723things @thehuntress09 @afidiofobia @savedbythegraceofsoutherncharm @demigirl-with-problems @nyx3028 @missaryasstuff @hizziestial @ritz-hell-hotel @kayalect @mystic-writings @stitch-flo @ancientimes @s0urw00lf @straightzoinked @i44nishi @falcvns @alexxavicry @grxcisxhy-wp @lupinsluvbot

hi! i am writing a finnick odair fic if anyone wants to readl! i just posted chapter five :)

Wattpad

nightmare | finnick odair

◞ 🍞﹆ NIGHTMARE ( finnick odair ) ␥ ◟ in which - cordelia calico won the 72nd hunger games. she is one of three living...

Hunger games Finnick

I’m actually crying rn bc I never realized this 😭

Finnick is so unserious 😭

-Finnick Odair x reader

{Quiet moments between you and Finnick when you can’t sleep}

I hope you enjoy my lovelies! 💕

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Winter was in full force, with harsh winds that nipped at your skin. Not even the fireplace could fend off, let alone the fluffy covers that you’ve layered upon your shared bed. Perhaps it was the cold chill in the air that prevented sleep from capturing you, or maybe it was something else entirely… you decide to not let your mind wander to what that could possibly be.

You sit up wrapping your cotton shawl around your shoulders tightly as your eyes scan across your room, dimly lit by the small sliver of moonlight that peaks behind the curtains and stretches across the floor trailing along the wall.

Finnick doesn’t stir with your movement which means he must be exhausted because he’s often a light sleeper, although you’re not surprised with the busy day he’s had. You smile softly down at him, the way his cheek is smushed against the soft pillow. You gently push his hair away from his closed eyes as you admire him, you’re glad he’s found comfort beside you.

The thought crosses your mind to wake him up, he’s always told you that if you can’t sleep to wake him up, he wouldn’t mind. But looking at him now, you just can’t bring yourself to do it, you’d feel far too guilty.

Instead, you decide to make your way to the kitchen, but not before putting on a pair of thick socks, after all, the tiled floor always felt much colder in the dead of night. Perhaps a warm drink would help lull you to sleep? You think to yourself as you fill the kettle.

You cringe slightly as the water begins to boil, squeezing your eyes shut at the sudden loud noise. Finnick had brought all types of different teas with the hope that one of them might help you get a good night's rest, he’d do anything if it meant you were happy.

You remember when he brought them home, two whole bags full of boxes with different kinds of ‘sleep treatments’ it brought tears to your eyes.

Finnick was always sweet to you, it shows in the way he looks at you, the way he holds you, and the sweet nothings he whispers to you whenever you feel down. You start to miss him, even though he’s only in your shared bedroom, the room next to the kitchen, fast asleep.

You pour the hot water into the small ceramic mug, the same one Peeta had gifted you as a congratulations for your engagement, he had hand painted them, beautiful flowers that swirl around the cup.

Soon enough the sweet smell of the tea reaches you, soothing the restless feeling that builds up within your chest. You take a small sip of the warm beverage as Finnick wanders through the kitchen, eyes heavy with sleep.

“It’s freezing out here honey” his voice is rough despite the softness of his tone, exhaustion hangs on his every word. he shuffles closer to you, bringing his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as if he’s trying to protect you from the chill that lingers within the air.

A sigh falls from your lips when he presses a kiss to your forehead, his hands soothing against your back as you rest against him. Even in the safety of his arms the guilt still bubbles up within you, “Did I wake you up?” You ask, pushing your face against his shoulder.

“No, was already awake” he’s lying but you decide not to fight him on it, far too distracted by the warmth of his hands as they slip underneath your shirt, fingers splaying across your lower back. “Can’t sleep without you anyway” he says, pulling back to get a better look at you, the truth of his words are shown through his eyes.

“M’sorry” you mumble into the soft fabric of his shirt, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me” The words come out much heavier than you’d like and it strikes a cord within Finnick, one that pinches his heart.

He tuts softly as he leans back slightly, holding your chin with his finger and thumb. “Hey,” he whispers, tilting your head to look at him. His eyes immediately soften as yours find his, “Don’t apologise, honey, it’s what I’m here for, yeah?” He smiles, seeming more awake than he was just mere minutes ago.

“I know, I just- I don’t want to be too much” The words feel silly as they escape your lips but your chest feels lighter for it. You know deep down you shouldn’t feel like this, Finnick has never made you feel anything but loved.

“Too much?” He repeats after you as if you had just said something that had completely baffled him, and it did. “There’s no such thing, sweetness,” he tells you, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I love you- so much” he whispers against your lips before kissing you, not letting your mind wander elsewhere for even a second.

“I love you too Finn” you exhale, eyes closing as he rests his forehead against your own, your noses bumping against each others slightly.

“Come on, it’s warmer in bed,” he says, unwrapping his arms from around you as he picks up the tea you had made, “I got this, you go get into bed honey” he smiles and you know better than to fight him on it, so you do as he says, climbing back into the cosy bed with Finnick following shortly behind you.

He hands you the warm beverage before joining you, his hand slipping into your own as you take small sips of your drink. He talks about the market, how they're starting to sell that one specific seasonal bread you like, and he even begins to make plans for the weekend with you. his voice clams your nerves, it brings peace.

"Thank you, Finnick" you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder as he pulls the blankets over your legs.

He brings your hand up to his lips, pressing soft kisses to your knuckles, “Always for you” he says, voice heavy with sleep once again. You set your mug on the bedside table before turning back to him, and for the first time tonight, you start to feel yourself drift off as you lay in his arms.

Finnick could admire you forever without wanting anything, study every ‘imperfection’ and fall even more in love with you. He would pour his heart out to you right now if he wasn’t so tired so instead he settles for a simple, “G’night beautiful” with love dripping from his tone, and soon enough you both find sleep.

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The Hunger Games Masterlist

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Finnick Odair-

Sleepless

Finnick says those three special words

Sweet giggle

Reuniting with Finnick

Peeta Mellark-

Baking

Katniss Everdeen-

Returning home

-Finnick Odair x reader

{Finnick says those three special words}

He’s so boyfriend! 💕 enjoy my lovelies

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The sun is setting, casting hues of pink and orange that shimmer along the ocean water. It’s a mesmerising sight that you can’t seem to stop looking at, despite the fact that you and Finnick come to this beach almost everyday.

He watches you with a soft smile, his heart hammering inside his chest at the way the afternoon sun kisses your skin making you glow in the most prettiest of ways. His eyes take in the shape of your lips and the curve of your nose. He’d study you for hours upon hours if you’d let him.

“You’re staring” You smile, turning your head to the side to look at him. His face reddens slightly with embarrassment, trying to cover it up with a smirk.

“I’m just enjoying the view” He replies with a playful wink, chuckling at the way you roll your eyes.

The sea ripples at your ankles as you dig your fingers through the sand looking for seashells. You have a small collection consisting of only three shells; one for the time you and Finnick went on your real first date, another for the day he got reaped and one for when he came back from winning his games.

All of them are different shapes, colours and sizes sitting neatly on your bedside table. They were the only things that got you through the days where he was gone, the memories of him live through the groves of the shells and the sound of the sea that’s trapped within them.

“This one… this one is perfect” You tell him holding up the small shell. It’s chipped slightly at the top but besides from that, it’s in great shape. You hold the shell up to his eyes nodding your head softly.

Finnick frowns ever so slightly, eyebrows pulled together in confusion as he watches you press the seashell up to the side of his face. “What are you doing?” He chuckles softly looking over at your hand.

“It matches your eye colour” You whisper as you study the different shades of greens and blues, how some are darker and lighter in areas and how they come together to mimic his eyes.

Finnick thinks you might’ve just broken him, the teasing words die on his tongue and suddenly he’s finding it hard to breathe.

“You’re gonna add it to your collection?” He grins softly as you nod, making a comment about how you’re gonna start a shrine dedicated to him and he doesn’t bother hiding the blush that dusts his cheeks.

He does the same thing, his eyes glancing up to yours and then to the sandy floor in search of a seashell. He picks up one, then another and holds them up to your eyes, his warm hand grazing against your cheek as he does so.

“You’re so beautiful” He whispers, taking notice of how the sunlight hits your eyes. You tilt your chin down to your chest as a breathless giggle falls from your lips and Finnick wastes no time in holding your jaw gently, making you look up at him.

“Why’re you shying away from me honey?” He smirks and you curse him silently because he knows damn well what he’s doing to you, especially when his thumb begins to soothe against your cheek and the space just under your eye.

“I’m not shying away” You breathe glancing down at the seashells that lay in his palm. “Have you found a match yet?” You ask before he can continue with his teasing.

Finnick looks down at the shells with a smile. “Hmm?… oh yeah, this one” He says as he hands you the seashell that matches your eye colour, it twists into a cone and the end is chipped off.

They both sit in the palm of your hand, one that resembles his and one that resembles yours, and there’s something about it that melts him, the thought that no matter what happens you’ll always have a reminder of him.

“I’m gonna add them to my collection” You smile as his eyes meet yours, full of love, an overwhelming feeling that bleeds into his chest and he just can’t seem to get enough of.

The words fall so effortlessly from his lips and he doesn’t hide away from them. “I love you” It’s such a simple declaration but the way he says it takes you back. His tone is soft but passionate, dripping with affection. A soft gasp escapes you as the words linger in the air.

Before Finnick can even begin to question himself you’re already wrapping your arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly. “I love you too Finn” You whisper against his neck, the smell of sea salt lingers in his hair.

It’s all he’s ever wanted and more, stored in those special words and now he’s said it once he’s never going to stop. He rests his forehead against yours, his hand against your cheek as he kisses you softly, noses bumping against each other’s slightly.

“I love you so much” He says once more, against your lips with a smile. You whisper the words back in between sweet kisses that soon taper off, breaking slowly as the pair of you smile uncontrollably. He glances down at the shells in your hand, the same ones that’ll sit on your bedside table for years to come.

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-Finnick Odair x Victor!reader

{Finnick strives to make you laugh for the first time since you’ve won your games}

Enjoy my lovelies💕

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Words were a hard thing to get out of you recently, you were so closed off… skittish, almost as if you were afraid of your own voice. Finnick couldn’t blame you in fact there’s not a bone in his body that could ever be mad at your recent behaviour, he understood better than most people.

He watches you with a soft expression as you sit at the kitchen table, losing yourself in a new puzzle. He admires the calm look in your eyes and the way you shift the pieces into the correct places with gentle hands whilst he prepares dinner, his eyes flicking over to you every now and then to keep a close eye on you.

The faint sound of rain pattering against the windows only seems to add to the tranquillity of the evening. Then the silence breaks, and your voice softly reaches his ears, “I’m stumped.” It shocks him a little, it’s evident in the way his eyes widened slightly.

“Stumped?… lemme take a look, honey.” He replies back to you, keeping his voice hushed as he walks over to you resting his palms against the wooden table to lean over you. His gaze flickering over the puzzle, studying the pieces with narrowed, concentrated eyes.

It takes only a second for him to pick the piece you’re looking for, gently snapping it into place with a smirk on his lips. “Oh… thank you.” You whisper softly, looking up at him with a small smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. He leans down to press a kiss on your forehead.

There’s a certain patience in Finnick, never condescending in the way he speaks or looks at you. If anything he’s the glue that holds you together, constantly there to anchor you back to reality whenever your mind drifts further than you can reach.

The memories were the worst part, you seemed to have a difficult time remembering what was real and what was fake… which caused you to forget a lot. Those special moments you shared with Finnick before the games are now tainted with a stain you couldn’t clear off.

Although there are moments where it flickers back slightly like embers of a fire that leaves a tingling warmth across your skin. The smallest things set it off, music for example. Soft notes of a familiar tune echo through the kitchen, there’s a sense of safety within the lyrics.

Finnick knows you remember the song and the moment you shared with him. It’s in the way your eyes glisten with fondness and that ever-so-small smile that begins to crack at the corner of your lips.

The pair of you glance at each other simultaneously as the gentle notes ricochet through the room. Finnick smirks over at you, extending his hand to you with a soft nod of his head. He waits for you to take him up on the opportunity, never forcing your hand.

He watches patiently as the hesitation flickers through your expression and relief washes over his expression as you stand up from the chair, your hand slipping into his slightly rough one.

“Do you remember this song?” He asks with a teasing edge to his tone although his expression soon melts with tenderness as you nod your head shyly and he takes this moment to place his hand against your hip.

Finnick brings you into him before gently swaying you both side from side. “I could never forget.” You whisper back to him and your words only fuel him to hold you closer.

Your shoulders relax and a sigh escapes your lips as you rest your head against Finnicks chest, the scent of sea salt and firewood sits against his skin and lingers within his clothes. It’s homely… warm within his arms, nothing can hurt you and those painful memories of the games take a backseat in your muddled-up mind.

The pair of you continue to sway gently, taking it one note at a time as you let the music carry you both. You feel Finnick’s chest vibrate slightly as he lets out a soft chuckle and before you can even ask why you’re suddenly being spun around, your breath catches in your throat as he pulls you back into him.

His hands fall to your hips and then he hears it, the sweet giggle that you let out and he freezes in place. It’s a sound that sends a familiar warmth blooming within his chest. “I love you.” He whispers, his hands caressing your hips and then up to your waist.

Your smile widens slightly at his words and you can’t help but wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him to you closely as he starts to press kisses all over your face. “I love you too.” You giggle in between the ticklish kisses.

The sight makes his heart swell with devotion. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen you like this, so at peace and so happy, he makes a silent promise to keep it this way for as long as he possibly can.

Eat Your Young | Finnick Odair

Warnings: nsfw, exhibitionism, oral (f receiving) fingering, pet names

(Inspired by Eat your young by Hozier)

MDNI | not proofread 💔

Sitting next to Finnick during dinner was pure agony. He had eaten his food with one hand as his other was occupied on my inner thigh, up my dress, and toying with the fabric of my panties. I was panting as his thumb rubbed circles on my clit.

From the moment we sat down, his hands were on me. He was subtle about it though. The Capitol provided a four course meal and had just so delicately prepared our food.

I couldn’t eat much as my stomach clenched and my thighs trembled under the table with so many people surrounding us.

Finnick and his unoccupied hand ran over the crystal glass cup in a suggestive manner as he made direct eye contact with me.

Other than the lewd interaction under the table, we didn’t speak at all…until we got to our rooms.

Once dinner was over Finnick grabbed my hand and politely declined small talk with others. He quickly rushed us to his temporary bedroom and shut the door behind us.

“Finnick!” I say breathlessly, “what was that?”

I was completely soaked.

He smirked, it was completely evil. The way he could bring me to the edge…so so close to coming with dozens of other people around us and then just give me that charming, innocent smile. Evil.

“Mmm, sweetheart” he groaned, tipping his head back slightly. He now watched me through his eyelids half shut. “You just looked so good for me tonight”

Finnick grabbed my hips and squeezed the fat to pull me closer. I felt myself getting hotter.

“So good” He repeated with more emphasis.

Finnicks hands made their way back down to my thighs and swiftly pulled the dress off. I felt exposed infront of him as I was now in nothing but my undergarments. On the other hand, he was fully dressed.

“Finn…” I shut my eyes and his soft lips make their way to my neck. He licked and nipped at the skin under my ear, on my collarbone, and on my jaw.

“What is it, darling?” He asked, still kissing my neck. He began to kick his shoes off and lead us to the bed.

Feeling him against me was I feeling I’ll never get sick of.

“Want you.” I say. He lays me on the bed and we collectively pull of his shirt. His body, oh God.

“You have me,” Finnick smiled and gives my lips a small peck. “You always have me, baby” he teases and starts to kiss down my chest and to my stomach.

My hips twitch as he gets lower and lower. His lustful eyes look up at me and he pulls down my underwear. “I’m starving, darling”

“You just ate, Finn” I laugh and spread my legs around his head ever so slightly. A silent welcome.

“I wanna put my lips to something” Finnick squeezes my thighs and starts to plant kisses along them. He kisses all the way down to my calf as he starts to sit up and pulls me towards the end of the bed by my thighs.

My legs are now dangling over the floor and he gets down on his knees. What a sight to see. He grabs each of my legs and starts to massage them.

“Finnick,” I whine, pushing myself towards him. He had kept me on edge all night and still wasn’t providing me any relief. “Please.”

He laughs mockingly and puts a finger to his lips with his eyebrows raised, “Please what?”

“Please touch me!”

“Aww, so needy” Finnick teases as he kisses back down to the area I need him most.

My back arches as he gently lays a kiss onto my clit. “Fuck!” I cry and watch his eyes look up to me.

His tongue starts to lick up my slit and then he directs it to my clit again. He draws shapes and letters with his tongue. F I N N I C K.

“You taste so good…like candy” he moans into me. His fingers were previously squeezing and gripping my thigh as he worked his mouth on me. Now they are thrusting inside of me, hitting a spot that makes my jaw drop and back arch.

I grip onto his hair for support, running my hands through his curls.

He brings me closer and closer to the finish line. My eyes roll to the back of my head. I look and watch as Finnick licks and sucks on my cunt like a starving man.

“F-Finn! m’ close!” I moan, pushing his head closer to my pussy. If that’s even possible. He stares up at me with his green eyes and that was all it took.

His fingers pump at an even faster pace and he continues to suck on my most sensitive part as I clench around him.

“Cum on my tongue, sweetheart. Wanna taste it” he says.

The wave of pleasure rushes over me and I grind my hips against the rhythm of his fingers to work myself through it. I moan from overstimulation as he continues his movements and moans against me.

He pulls himself up and his face is glistening with my arousal. He puts the two fingers that were inside me now into his mouth and sucks them clean. “M’ sorry sweetheart, just taste so fuckin good” he laughs and kisses me.

I laugh and look and the bedsheets, slightly wet from my arousal. I want to return to favor. Make Finnick feel as good as he makes me feel. But I reach for his pants and notice a stain on the crotch.

He turns a shade of pink and lays next to me. “Even eating your pussy makes me cum” he says and laughs. I roll over and give him a kiss on his right dimple.

“So pathetic, odair” I tease back and lay on his chest. I see a pleasant reaction on his face from my comment and decide to ignore it. For now.

_________________________________________________

Lowkey a little vanilla but it’s my first fic so pls stop yelling at me im just a girl

Finnick Odair x reader

And I fell to the ground… I couldn't discerned the environment around me as my eyes could barely stay open due to the sun's rays.

Not far from where I lay helpless, there was the body of the tribute from the second district, without his head.

The fight had been to the death and that feeling of numbness, caused by I don't know what, hadn't helped me at all. I don't even know how I managed to raise my sword, since I was on my knees in front of him partially unable to breathe, and manage to complete a blow that managed to decapitate him.

Before entering the arena I would never have considered myself capable of carrying out such an atrocious action, but once you’re inside you can't wait to leave, but in my case dying was not allowed: my family is waiting for me at home, the last wish of a little girl from the seventh district was “Please, live your life for me too”, and lastly I promised someone that I would come back for him.

15 days ago

“Don't you dare leave me alone, there, without you. I'm begging you, darling. I can't live without you anymore.” My hand caresses his cheek; he is sitting in a chair with his arms around my waist.

“Finnick, you were a wonderful experience…”

“You were everything, you are everything.” His hands caress my back; I approach his lips and kiss them.

“I'll do anything for you, Y/n. My sweet girl, my sweet Y/n…”

“But please, not that… I don't want you to do that kind of things, Finn. Please, I wouldn’t forgive myself if you give yourself to someone who doesn't deserve you, neither your body. You’re gold… they don't deserve you.”

“And I don't deserve you, my love. I don't deserve you..."

“Don’t say shit… instead take me, Finn. Take me in your arms until the sun rises…”

“I was wanting for it for all this time, Y/n…”

We moved to the bed where we remained until the next day, the day we would have to separate without the certainty of being able to see each other again.

He was lying on his back and I was with my head on his chest.

“I think I love, Y/n.” I didn't react to those words; I didn't move an inch. I couldn't say I loved him because tomorrow I won't wake up knowing that he will be by my side but knowing that tomorrow will be either a goodbye or a see you later...

“Finnick…” I whisper softly and with a trembling voice.

“It's okay, honey. I said I think I love you… I'm not sure, yet.” His little laugh penetrated my heart… «I do love you» this was all I wanted to tell him but I wasn't brave enough.

Before it was too late, they took me from the arena and I was brought back to the Capitol, fresh as a rose: they had washed and restored every single remnant of the island, as if those 15 days had never happened.

My head stopped spinning, my eyes could see clearly again, my belly was intact again...

“We're here,” a woman informed me.

I stood up and felt neither fatigue nor pain, yet my right leg was torn until a few hours ago.

When the door of the plane opened, I almost rushed down, looking only for those sea green eyes that have encouraged me several times even from afar.

We had landed right on the roof of the building where I had been staying in the days before the Hunger Games.

As soon as I looked out of the plane's steps, a voice shouted my name.

“Yn!”

I turned towards his voice and saw him: a Greek God, breathtakingly beautiful, looking only in my direction.

I started running, feeling the need to throw myself into his arms.

How I missed… my mentor. Even if within a few days he had become something more and I had only understood it in the arena, when at the end of my strength his gifts fell from the sky, always accompanied by a note: “you're doing great, honey. ” “Keep fighting, sweet girl.” “Survive, baby.”

Every time I've got his messages I couldn't help but smile like a child.

Finally the meters separated us disappeared and I was finally in the safest place I could wish for: in the arms of Finnick Odair.

“Thanks, Finnick. You saved my life..." I whispered against his chest: his hands were one around my hips and the other immersed in my hair.

“No, you saved my life by winning that fucking game. How could I live without you?” He said leaving a kiss on my forehead. I lifted my head from his chest and looked into his eyes: beautiful but a little shiny.

“Finnick…”

“Yes, honey?” His hand moves to my check.

“I'm glad you're here.”

“Always, baby. I will always be by your side from now on, Y/n, I promise.”

Our embrace melted after a while, his hand took hold of mine and we went inside.

“Would you like to spend the night with me?” He said hesitantly, his confidence had disappeared: and he was only acting like that because he didn't want to force me to do anything.

“Of course, I wanna be with you tonight and the days after tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that… forever, Finnick.” A dazzling smile lit up his face: his lips placed a kiss on my hand which he held tightly in his.

“I love you, Y/n. You don't know how much.” My heart melted and I pulled him close to me, wrapping my arms around him. But he, with incredible speed, lifted me off my feet, placing my legs around his hips.

“You're coming into my room tonight, little girl.” Whisper in my ear “You want this, right?” I nodded. There was nowhere else I wanted to be but with him…

So I was carried into his room.

“Would you like me to kiss you?” He wisher and all I knew was that all my body was going on fire.

“Finnick, I'm yours, do to me what you want, I love you.” And this was the phrase of affirmation that man, as beautiful as the sun, needed to free himself from all that tension that he had to endure in those long days.

His lips ran down on my neck licking and sucking it. His hands reached up and unhooked my bra from over the sweatshirt I was wearing. My hands slid under his shirt, lifting it up, revealing his defined muscles.

“Do you like what you're seeing?” My response was only a muffled moan which, however, made him more excited.

While he continued to kiss my neck, he pressed me against the wall, I couldn't breathe: my desire for him was palpable and he was eager to have... me.

I took off my shirt and he threw away my bra, taking one breast in his hand: he squeezed it and rubbed his finger against the already swollen nipple.

Our mouths were one inside the other, and with his tongue he was devouring me: he sucked my lower lip, bit it and I tried to keep up with him but it was useless... I wasn't on his level.

Suddenly from the wall I found myself lying on the bed with Finnick pulling down my pants... caressing every inch of skin that he discovered little by little.

Once the trousers were off, he threw them across the room. He returned to my lips, careful to make his cock touch, hard, against my vagina.

I started lifting my pelvis moving it left and right, feeling his erection getting bigger and bigger.

“Careful, darling…” Finnick grunted, lifting his head and my movements became faster.

A guttural moan escaped him from those lips on which I rushed to devour them. His fingers reached the elastic of the panty and snapped it.

“Beg me…” And I wasn't even able to breathe let alone talking.

“Finnick, I want you, please…” with his palm he rubbed me underneath and I opened my legs more. I wanted every single part of my body.

He walked away from me, undid his belt, and took off his pants and boxers. He came back on me, leaving a nice mark on my collarbone as I raised my pelvis to touch his member.

“Stay down, Y/n.”

“Finnick…” his name was like a prayer, a cry addressed to him to speed up the process… but he didn't seem to care about my inability to hold back any longer. I've been dreaming about this moment for weeks and he was making me suffer before satisfying me, filling me up.

His cock moved away from the center of my legs and Finnick positioned himself right there.

“Let's see..." his finger traced a vertical line from bottom to top. "How wet you are, good girl." His head lowered and the contact of his hot tongue against my wetness made a cry escape my mouth...

“Yes, baby, let me hear you…” he said making me vibrate. He pinched my clit with his teeth and my hand dipped into his hair, pushing him closer and closer.

After exploring the entire area with his tongue, he began to make circular movements: fast, insatiable.

“Finnick…”

Between various moans and whispers of his name, I felt his finger entering me.

“Honey, you're so tight…” he said this time raising his head.

“I love it…” he smirked and started to move his finger up and down, curling it. Meanwhile, with the other hand he took care of the clit: rubbing and pinching it.

“More…” I wishered.

“As you want.” He put his middle finger to his lips. “Will you do it for me?” I nodded and took him between my lips, sliding my tongue along the length of him.

“Nice technique, love.” He smirked and finally I had two fingers of him in me.

I could easily come if he will keep going like that…

“Fin, please, I’m… close.” Another prayer came out of my lips. He just smiled and, finally, removed his fingers and brought his cock against my entrance.

It was so big, so bulky. I wasn't even sure if I could have him in me.

“Tell me to stop if it's too much painful…”

I wasn't scared at all, even if that was my first time and he knew it, all that I wanted was him.

Finally I felt his length in me, he entered slowly and his movements were the softest. As my walls adapted to his presence, he increased the intensity of the movements and I began to accompany them with my hips. And just when we reached a certain speed, my body contracted with numerous shocks and I came between moans and crying of his name.

As soon as my juice wet his member I saw a sparkle in his eyes and his movements became harder, more violent. My fingers gripped his back and I screamed his name over and over again. We both moaned and my legs trembled, but he didn't seem to get tired, in fact his movements, accompanied by the squirm due to the fact that I had come, were more and more violent but I didn't want him to stop, on the contrary...

Suddenly he exploded inside me, making me arch my back and fall my head onto the bed; filling me with him.

He fell on top of me, still inside me.

Our breaths were ragged and both our bodies were hot, quivering.

We didn't say a word until we were clear again.

Yes he slipped out from inside me and dropped onto the bed. His hand slipped underneath me and turned me onto my side.

“Are you okay?” He asked me gently and in a way that I just adored.

“I feel epic.” He laughed and that sound was all I needed to be happy.

“I love you, Finnick Odair.”

“I love you too, my loudest girl.”

Hii could u do a smut where reader calls finnick ‘Finny’. Like she moans it out while they’re yk and it absolutely makes him feral. And he’s all like:

“What was that sugar? Say it again.” Etc.

Say it Again

Pairing: Soft dom Finnick x shy fem!reader

Notes: Dom/sub themes, voice kink, praise kink, p in v, slight corruption kink, Finnick Odair is such a munch. Minors DNI

A/N: I haven’t had the motivation to write and I’ve still got a few requests in my drafts, I’m really sorry if they’re yours. Hope I hadn’t lost my touch

————————————————————————

Finnick was your first everything- first relationship, first kiss….the first one to break you in- and quite frankly, he intends to be your last too. He loves how he gets to be the only one to teach you all of these things- to be the person who corrupts your innocence, explores different ways to give you pleasure, and work your body better than you can.

Finnick is always sure to praise you during sex to ensure you’re fully comfortable with him. Sex was never really an intimate or enjoyable thing for him before he had met you, so Finnick wants to make sure you are given the experience he never did. More than anything else, Finnick would like to hear your be more vocal during sex.

Although you occasionally make a few noises here and there, letting out small moans and soft whimpers (because let’s be real, it’s impossible to keep quiet when the Finnick Odair is railing you), you often try to conceal your sounds because you feel a bit insecure about your voice. Unbeknownst to you, Finnick would like nothing more than to hear you moan out his name and to tell him how good he makes you feel. If only you know the ego boost it would give him and how his heart would race at a single comment.

This night, Finnick has you laid out on your shared bed, the mattress soft yet supporting underneath you two as he thrusts deeply into you at a steady pace. His warm mouth is latched onto the crook of your neck, sucking and nipping, sure to leave love marks on your skin as one of his hand reaches for your clit to trace lazy circles. The sex, as usual, is phenomenal and your back is arched in pleasure, legs folded as they hang over his sculpted shoulders.

A few soft whimpers fall from your mouth involuntarily at the undeniable pleasure you’re feeling and you bite down on your bottom lips to control your noises like always. Finnick cocks his head, his mouth momentarily detaching from your neck as his lips form that signature smirk which you are so familiar with. You’re confused as of what Finnick is doing but you’re way too cockdrunk to care. His thick and lengthy cock is pounding into you so well, grazing over your cervix with every thrust and you’re surprised that it isn’t bruised by now.

Finnick grabs a pillow from the side of the bed and swiftly places it under the small of your back as he lifts you up and places you back down with ease. Your mouth falls open and you forget about controlling your volume, a loud moan mixed with a gasp leaving your mouth. The pillow has put you in an even better position, raising your hips slightly so that each of Finnick’s thrust is angled to hit that spongey spot inside of you which makes your toes curl in pleasure and back arch further.

“Hmm honey, you like that, huh?” Finnick teases after seeing your reaction, and you can only nod as you attempt to babble something incoherently.

“F-fuck…Finny, s-so good” you mumble, your mind in a state of haze right now.

Hearing your words and the nickname that just fell out of your mouth, Finnick’s eyes immediately light up and an even bigger smirk replaces the former one on his face. Although you don’t realise in the moment that Finnick has bitten his lips at your comment, you sure can feel his reaction to it as his thick cock pulsates in arousal, causing your warmth to tighten around him, feeling every vein and curve.

“What was that sugar?” Finnick chuckles both smugly and proudly, “say it again for me”

“I-I….”

Only then do you realise what you’ve said and your cheeks immediately turn pink, a flustered look appearing on your face which Finnick finds so, so adorable. You struggle to find the right words to say, only blinking shyly as you attempt to cover your face, but Finnick pulls your hands away as he stares down at you with the same smirk.

“Don’t be shy honey, your whimpers and moans are music to my ears……besides, your voice turns me on so much, you have no idea.”

Finnick whispers into your ears, and you feel a tingling sensation in your stomach, ‘butterflies’ Finnick calls them. You blink, not knowing that that is what Finnick feels about the sounds you make, and it makes you feel better.

“Now..I’ll ask you again, sugar, what is it you called me, hmm?”

Finnick hums as he cocks his head with a small teasing smile, waiting for an answer.

“…Finny. I called you Finny..”

“Good girl.”

God save Finnick Odair from the things he is going to do to you.

———————————————————————————

A/N: to whoever had requested this, hope this is what you had wanted <3 Once again, all likes, reblogs, and follows are appreciated, so are comments!

-space song; blurbs

finnick odair f!reader

finnick odair who can’t say no to you- sure he’ll go along with it as long as you’re their with him. finnick odair who braids your hair after a day at the beach. finnick odair who sneaks you gifts when he comes back from the capitol- handmade or stolen. finnick odair who’s large hands find the small of your back when he knows you feel indisposed. finnick odair who stops what he’s doing, at any time, to brush the small piece of hair that’s laying in the wrong spot. finnick odair who, away from all the grossing ears and cameras- rambles to mags about his plans of making you his wife. finnick odair who hugs you frol behind, smelling the salt water in your hair, tracing the curves of your body and kissing your neck. finnick odair who’s eyes light up when you talk about something you’re interested in- even interrupting every now and then with a laugh that tilts his head back and shows off his perfect teeth.

A LITTLE DEATH !

kianna’s masterlist

☾angst, ✩ fluff, 𖦹 smut

finnick odair;

silver soul☾

you’ve been reaped for the 68th annual games,as you say your goodbyes you realize the ocean is not the only thing you are leaving behind.

I don't know why I bite☾

few years after winning his games, finnick endures the trials of being a victor and all he needs is a helping hand

if you built yourself a myth☾

finnicks failure of being able to save you and bring you to district 13 will eat away at him until he is blessed to see your face again.

sea, and the rock below☾✩

you and finnick mentor your tributes before their games. yet only finnick can understand your unease.

on the sea, we'd be forgiven☾

you have had everything drained from you- family, body, dignity but there is one thing the capitol cannot take from you and it's the love you and finnick share.

babydoll𖦹

finnicks a tease, so mean. but there's nothing more he wants to hear in his life than your gratifications.

hidden prayer ✩

finnick realizes he loves you. and after all, there's only one thing in this world keeping him sane.

kiss it off me ✩

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

ride cowgirl 𖦹

a slow kiss with finnick has a twist of fate- mores a twist of positions.

knew the game & played it

PART TWO —> KILLS TO KNOW

finnick has to let you go to save you- he can’t simply see you off if he still has his teeth sunk in- he has to make you hate him.

believe me now? ☾✩

finnick odair, to love you- to protect you, battles it out with tough love that you can’t quite see.

winnners prize 𖦹

tough love turns to rough luck, mentor!finnick cant help but worship you, and victor!reader can’t wait to have him. (continuation of believe me now?)

female robbery ☾

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

one for the road ☾

you’ve been finnicks since the moment you met, after your interviews you break- who can fix you better than him?

pity party ☾

finnick odair is a man of many fortunes, all he wish he didn’t posses- red, hot, and irate he lets it fool you.

-FEVERS !

a finnick odair series.

0. PREFACE

blurbs!

space song✩

honeymoon w/finnick ✩ suggestive? (𖦹)

finnick & hijacked!reader☾✩

finnick & hypergirly!reader☾✩

married life w/finnick

more to be added soon ;)

requests open on account profile!!

if u steal my writing i’ll turn into a psycho crazy bitch zombie ok! - kianna :)

i simply cannot decide what to write tomorrow!

pls vote!! also please use my inbox and send requests or hc u wanna see i’ll love u forever!!! kiss kiss

A HIDDEN PRAYER !

pairings; finnick odair x f!reader

summary; finnick realizes he loves you. and after all, there's only one thing in this world keeping him sane.

contains; FLUFF, no established relationship, lil smooches, pre quarter quell, lil bit of angst (just finnick beating himself up over not realizing sooner) physical touch and words of affirmation.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

your bodies were soaking wet, having splashed around in the water previously.

finnick had appreciated you up until now he liked having someone who understood him, someone who would do so much as run out to the sea at midnight because he couldn’t sleep. a nice companion.

ever since he’d won his games he only kept a few people close, a few people to remind him he wasn’t losing his mind. you were one of those people- you always had been.

now, the waves creep up to your ankles as the two of you rest on the shoreline. you could hear the rise and fall of his chest- you didn’t mind. you were calm in his presence, in moments like these you didn’t need words to understand how he was feeling, vice versa.

you get a shiver up your back, your shoulders shake. finnick internally scolds himself, stupid me. why would i let her get in the water with no extra layers? there’s nothing he can do now except pull you into his chest- this time, you don’t think you can sit in silence.

your cheeks are hot. your shoulder feels numb in contact with his chest. finnick doesn’t realize the intimacy of his act until he felt you stiffen against him. he doesn’t regret it- but he has not a clue what to say now.

amidst all of his panic, he catches your eye- you look up at him- and he doesn’t know what for. all he can focus on is you. have your eyes always been that pretty? is this his first time getting lost in them? your skin is glowing in this moonlight and your hair, this must be a curse.

who’s to say he can’t have you? that you can’t be his? when he would give so much for you? his eyes are heavy on yours you feel as though it’s too physically taxing to pull your eyes away from his, how could you when they were so full of something you never saw before?

you turn to face him now, the words are lost in your throat. you want to speak- he sees that, his hand is running along your face as if it’s something so fragile- so precious.

he can recognize the look in your eyes, only because it mirrors his own. so confused, so dazed, so scared of this new feeling.

finnick hadn’t known love his whole life, he was stripped of love so many times before, but then again- he was familiar with the idea of it.

and instead of this innocent love being taken away, it felt like it was poisoning his mind this time.

“finnick,” your mouth opened once more to say something, anything. there was so much running around your head yet, your mouth was dry.

his eyes were still so full, so adoring, “i know.” no words were spoken, nobody had spewn love from the depths of their brain- but yet a mutual understanding was formed.

his lips were on yours in seconds, not rushed, not desperate, not messy. simple soft, trying to soak it all in, to remember this moment. the moment of your clothes being completely soaked through, his sleep shirt being lost in the sand, his hair tousled, yours dripping wet, sand stuck to your knees and elbows, so flawed, but all intact.

-