ashlyn brooke

21 | autistic | BA in criminal justice

[helaenaluvr]

· · · · · · · · ·

𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘭𝘺𝘯𝘯𝘦 :: 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 ,, 𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐄 ⸃⸃ 𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺-one

𝘵𝘢𝘶𝘳𝘶𝘴 )) 𝘽𝙐𝙏 𝙄 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙔𝙊𝙐 ┊ 𝘦𝘴𝘧𝘫

៹ 𝙐𝙉𝙏𝙄𝙇 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙀𝙉𝘿 𝙊𝙁 𝙏𝙄𝙈𝙀 ࿔*:･ 𝘤𝘳𝘫𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘫𝘰𝘳 ⸃⸃

⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣

𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙤𝙣 ,, 𝙢𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙞𝙣 𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙚 ,, 𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙢 𝙖𝙙𝙫𝙤𝙘𝙖𝙘𝙮 ,, 𝙡𝙜𝙗𝙩𝙦𝙞𝙖+ 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 ,, 𝙗𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙩𝙚𝙭𝙩𝙨 ,, 𝙘𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙨

[driften-sea-snake]

broke: ormund dyed daeron’s hair to protect his identity

woke: ormund dyed daeron’s hair to be more like a pure hightower, rather than a “savage” valyrian

bespoke: ormund dyed daeron’s hair to make him look more like his previous grooming victim, gwayne

[nobodytellyouhow]

“Futuristic race mixing” never made any sense to me because race mixing doesn’t make you or society raceless but also if we want to look at it from a canonically perspective, who’s to say THG truly takes place so far into the future?

There has been people who believe THG takes place in the far future with dates theorizing as far as around year 3000. But THG’s setting is not some made up land, it is in America. It’s not just dystopian fiction, it is speculative dystopian fiction. And it seems to likely be speculation on what could’ve happened if nuclear damnation had occurred during the Cold War. Possibly the 50s when hydrogen bombs were invented. Appalachian Coal Mining begun around the 1850s (but ended in the 1950s in our time) and Katniss says in chapter 3 they used to mine in District 12 for centuries but two centuries is still plural putting THG’s as early as the 2050s.

Sure the technology of THG has invisible force fields but we literally landed on the moon due to the Space race from the Cold War so technology likely was still evolving fast due to War never truly ending.

[ilguna]

“josh hutcherson says he’s not a fan of taylor swift blah blah blah cancel him”

fuck that bitch rn. she can’t even stand up for herself and tell trump and ice to kick rocks. had a lot to say a couple years ago, even CRIED on a documentary about it. but now she’s silent cause she’s dating that trump loving football player 🤮

sorry i’ve been holding this in and i can’t anymore. i’m gonna have to rebrand my fucking masterlist.

[ultralightpoe]

Whispers In The Rain - Finnick Odair

Dreamweaver's Note: This is a Comet Post ☄️, it's apart of my everyday for a year writing journey. Every day I open this prompt book to the next prompt and let the dice pick a character I write for into a small blurb. Good luck star travelers -Ultralight

⚠️Fae-Bound Triggers: Angst, brief mentions of prostitution, bad writing.

⏳Length of the Spell: 3.6k+ words

✨What the Stars Foretell: Daily Prompt..... 'Look up at the sky, what's the weather like today?'

✨Starlit Archive ✨ Stardust Inbox ✨Cosmic Events ✨

Enjoy!

It was raining the day you fell in love. 

A downpour, the type that left people stranded in their homes watching the streets of District 4 turn to rivers. It never took long for them to get used to it, if the districters had their way they would already be paddling along the river streets and going about life to earn the money they so desperately needed. 

It was the capitols soldiers that couldn’t handle the water, it was them that installed the lock-ins until the weather would ease up. It was them who never had to worry about their families starving as you had to. 

You had been good for the first 2 weeks, that is until your mother formed a fever and the rations your family stored up were withering away to nothing. You had already turned everything you could into meals and even tried pushing it further than that. Bone broth. Fish fins. Stale bread. But now there was nothing and you had to leave the confines of your home. Peacekeepers be damned. 

You had done a good job of staying out of sight, sneaking into the town square and swimming down until you found the lower shops at the end of the path, climbing through their upper windows where they were safe from the flooding and did their business. You bought enough food for another 3 weeks and tried not to flinch at how much you spent, but it was raining and you took that as a sign of good luck while you decided to splurge and get your mother some medicine. 

You were halfway home when you saw him. 

A dead boy floating in the water, right to you. 

It took you longer than you’d care to admit to realize he wasn’t actually dead, merely relaxing like one of those extinct starfish you had read about, and you pushed forward in the water to tap his shoulder when the light of a peacekeepers flashlight startled you both. 

The boy before you lunged before you could scream, pulling you beneath the surface as the light roamed to where you had just been. 

You tried holding your breath, a deep sort of panic setting in that the boy before you must have recognized, making him push forward to place his mouth against yours for air. 

Your first kiss was under the water of a river street with a downpour happening. 

His name was Finnick Odair, a deeply charming boy that managed to steal your heart too quickly not that you had complained. 

It rained on your first date, sneaking out to the docs to watch the rain hit the water. 

It drizzled the day he met your parents and grandmother. 

It flooded the night you both snuck out for a late night swim, making you laugh and follow the current of the water wherever it led you. 

Countless storms, countless rain showers and hangouts.

Yet….. It was sunny the day your boy was reaped. 

You had known something was wrong the second you stepped out of your family home to feel the dense heat sinking into your skin, feeling that uneasy anxiety on your entire walk to where Finnick promised to meet you that morning. 

‘It’ll be fine.’ He had murmured to you, but you could see right through his expression, could read him well enough to know he was lying to protect your own feelings. 

You kissed him hard that day, not the normal sweet kisses you normally shared, but a passionate kiss in attempt to remember every second of it. 

The sun beat down harder when you lined up for the reaping, and your hands shook while others around you began trying to hide their weeping and whisper their prayers. 

You whispered your prayers as well, just for the rain to come. 

You told yourself that even a small droplet could make a difference, maybe even a little stormcloud. 

Nothing came, except the sound of his name being called out to the crowd as your heart shattered into dozens of pieces. 

“NO!” You sobbed out, your voice a useless sound in the thunder of the crowds disapproval. Everyone was yelling, everyone was upset. But Finnick merely stood tall, not looking back as he kept his head up and walked himself to the podium. 

You tried calling to him, tried anything to change the fate. 

The skies were clear as day the day Finnick Odair winked into the camera as if he owned it, not a drop of rain to be seen the entire time he was led away until he could see visitors to say goodbye. 

It was a warm sunny day when you begged the peacekeepers to let you in, a blissful sunniness covering your skin when his parents came out sobbing and telling you he didn’t wish to see you. 

Some would even say it was perfect weather the day the train took off with your lover inside pretending you didn’t exist. No goodbye, no longing glances. Nothing. 

There was a heat wave when you watched him in his games. 

The heat was so bad you could barely stand it…. Or maybe it was the screen before you that was making you ill. 

Your head was constantly blaring, feeling like it was splintering one cell at a time and your body was on fire. 

Your job took up most your time and you tried to ignore the games completely. Tried to ignore the sound of Finnicks screams and shouts of pain. Tried to ignore the heat of the days sun. 

  Tried. 

It was a windy day when the Victor came home.

You had been called off work, as had most of District 4, to stand as another body in the town square just to be one more face in the crowd to greet the newest Hunger Games victor.

The youngest winner in history, securing his district a year of food. The most charming, earning himself the title of Capitol Favorite. The most sponsored, rewarded with a glittering trophy to match his winnings.

He hoisted the trident high as the crowd swarmed him, spinning it for the cameras with practiced showmanship while arms wrapped around him as though he were a hero.

His return had been delayed longer than most Victors, a gap that gnawed at you with questions you would never find answers to.

The wind tugged at your hair, teasing it into the air, when his eyes finally found you. For a moment, something in his expression cracked into a torn and raw sort of emotion. He even took a step forward before freezing, turning back to the crowd as though you had never been there at all.

The cheer swelled around him as he continued his show and you slipped away, vanishing into the gusts like a ghost carried home by the breeze.

It was clear skies the day you told the Victor you hated him.

It wasn’t fair, you knew this. 

After what he just went through, everything the world had seen done to him and seen him do to others…. You should have some understanding. You should be able to at least try. 

But when he shows up at your families home with a basket of fish and bread and jams you are already thrown into suspicion. 

In your defense he hadn’t been seen outside of his Victor home in the month he had been back. And you hadn’t spoken to him since before the reaping that took him away.  You had reasons to be on your toes. 

Then he told you to stay away from him. 

A funny thought, considering he was at your door. 

“What?” You had laughed, the sound bitter and confused in the same go as the wind chimes near the side of the house rang out with the breeze. 

“You need to stay away. From me. Forever.”

“I was doing that.” You snapped out, an embarrassed sort of anger flushing through your body as his hands kept a tight hold on the handles of the basket. “Not like you were giving me a choice but I was already doing that, Finnick.”

The name feels like a slap, considering you normally had always taken to calling him Fin growing up. 

“I…. I am a figure of the Capitol now and you can’t be seen with-”

“I hate you.” The words rush out as the tears began welling up in your eyes. “I hate you.”

You didn’t mean them, of course you didn’t. But you felt as if you didn’t say them then he would continue to break your heart on your own porch. 

“I don’t care that you’re a Capitol figure, cause honestly I don’t care about you. You don’t want to be seen with me? The District Scrum you left behind to live out your Career pack dream? Fine.” The tears are falling freely now, and you nearly get sick off the the taste of salt from them. “But I don’t need anything from you. Not the pity food or…. Anything. So get the hell off my porch.” 

He tries to leave the basket anyways, avoiding your gaze until you stomp forward and kick it off into the road below before turning back into the house with a slam of the door. 

There was a rainbow the day you were reaped. 

You knew, of course you knew, the second you laid eyes on it that morning. 

It had been a year since the last games, two years since Finnicks, and there had been too many changes for this not to happen. Your mother passing, as well as your grandmother. Moving into a cheaper hut on the other side of town with your father since there wasn’t as much income. 

You had been devastated about your family, but there was brightside in the fact that the Victors Village sat on the opposite side of the district now, far away from the Victor that had taken a liking to strolling about your neighborhood as if on a normal walk. 

It kept you far away from the boy that greeted you with a ‘good afternoon’ everyday after work as if you were a coworker and not the one whos heart he stomped on. 

Honestly it was a form of relief when you saw the rainbow. You didn’t have much to live for anymore, but you were worried about all the younger girls with the chances of being picked. 

You didn’t really care when your name echoed through the crowd. You didn’t really blink when you walked up to the stage and waited for the boy to be called. You gave a fake smile when you shook his hand and you made sure to give your father a tight hug when you said goodbye. 

The rainbow was still shining bright when you boarded the train without a word and took a seat next to Mags until the Victor you knew too well took the seat across from you and uttered your name in a broken sort of plea. 

You didn’t bother making an excuse when you stormed off, laying in the bed provided as the rainbow disappeared from sight along with your district. 

You tried listening to the virtual rain to help fall asleep in the Capitol. 

You weren’t allowed outside, the last time you smelled fresh air had been the parade where you had been dressed up as some water nymph. 

Mags had doted on you like it mattered, rubbing your cheek and trying to hug you to keep warmth in the costume while you waited for the parade. Your district partner had made some complaints about how revealing both your outfits were to the stylists who had treated you like a pet. 

And the victor? He hadn’t said a word since he laid eyes on you, merely kept glaring at every passerby with a tight jaw and a devastated gaze. 

The chariot ride had gone smooth, and you swore you could smell rain coming before you were whisked away and you hadn’t seen any more weather since. 

So you took to the false weather options in your room in hopes you could get some sleep, it never worked. 

Instead you were being thrown around the mat like a rag doll against your District partner. 

Over and over and - “ENOUGH!” Finnick shouts, drawing both your eyes to where he and Mags stood on the edge of the mat. 

“If the other districts see this display it will make you both easy targets. They will know you can’t fight and that he doesn’t have an ally.”

“She doesn’t have an ally.” Matteo scoffs, shaking his head. 

“Matteo you will train with Mags on survival. You need to practice everything in case the terrain is something you haven’t seen before. She will practice with me.” the victor explains, taking his jacket off and climbing onto the mat as Matteo stormed off muttering something about favoritism. 

The minutes of warming up pass in silence as the room empties, but his gaze never leaves yours as you prepare your stance. 

“I’m sorry for missing evening meals.” He blurts out, getting into his own stance. “The Capitol calls me for busine-”

“I didn’t ask.” You manage to snap out before lunging at him. He catches your first strike without any hesitation and throws you against the mat in a swift move that makes you blink widely. 

“There is so much I want to explain before you…..” He stops short, like he can’t even get the words out as his thumb grazes across your cheek. “Please.”

You don’t give him an answer, merely pulling out of his hold and standing to prepare your next position. 

It was a fake hailstorm the day you almost died. 

The Capitol was creative, you would never deny that. 

The hail, sharp jagged pieces of ice that shocked you with every touch, poured down with the rain as you kept huddled in a ball under a tree. You had gone as far as to cover above you with a tarp, sensing rain coming, but you had never imagined this. 

A piece of hail hit the ground, bouncing into your soaked form with an electric shock that made you scream out as your body jolted from it, scrambling further into the tree in hopes that it would be over soon. 

You had been prepared for the storm with the tarp, yes. But you had bad timing. Had gone out to get rations when it hit. Starting with the rain before the hail began and the electrocution. 

You had burns and welts all over your body, and there were puddles beginning to form around your tent like electric shock landmines waiting to strike. 

You could do nothing but beg, and sob, and stay hidden as you closed your eyes and let the pain take you. 

Your memories flashed before you, the panic you were feeling now that had once been eased by the swift kiss of a stranger underwater. How he decided so easily to give you the air from his own lungs. 

You wanted him in this moment. 

You wanted to thank him for the air, and the kisses, and beg him for the answers on why he pulled away. 

But you would never see him again, this was it. 

Your partner from District 4 was already long gone, had been taken out by the kid from 11 while he was too distracted with choking you to death to see him emerge. Everyone else had been taken out one by one. 

You were one of the last ones out of three, and you were sure this was it. 

Until the sound of thunder….. No wait….. A canon. That had been a canon….. Followed by another. Those were far too loud to be thunder. 

Then the rain stopped, the electric hail with it. 

The music followed quickly after, an announcement about a Victor that rung blankly in your ears as you stayed laying there feeling empty and cold 

There was a real hailstorm the day of your party. 

The Capitol was pleased, very very pleased, with the weather outcome. It was fate wasn’t it? The girl who won by the hailstorm getting her very own the day of her celebrations? 

You weren’t as pleased. 

A week in the hospital, all your scars and welts gone which left you feeling as if they hadn’t been real in the first place even though the pain that woke you up in screams every night felt real. And the Capitol felt as if they had a right to your body it seemed, they pet at you with astonishment and amazement at how smooth your skin was and how lovely and silky it felt. 

They talked about how pristine and perfect your body was, as if it hadn’t been altered by the Capitols surgeries after your games. 

It was the phantom pains and the pettings that made you understand him a little more. The nausea building in as you finally began to process where he went every night on your tour with a nod from Snow. 

Yet, he always found his way back to your room so that when you woke up with the burning or the sobbing or the outright trying to hurt yourself, he was there with his arms around you already trying to ease your pain. 

“I’ve got ya.” He’d whisper.  “Never letting go.”

He would never judge or give you a pity look when you emptied your stomach into the toilet every night, but merely hum an old district song as he took a cold washcloth to wipe away the cold sweat. 

You never had to say thank you, and he never had to explain himself. 

It was foggy the day it all came to light. 

You hadn’t seen him enter the terrace, more so felt him near you just as you always had. 

You were both a couple years older, a couple years into the game of the Capitol now and even worse as skirting around the truth of everything. 

Neither of you ever talked about it, talked about the tasks that Snow would send you both on or talked about the bath sessions you shared as you both tried to rinse away the memories and the sins of it. Whispering to each other as the only lifeline you had, trying to keep your voices down so that the snow would never freeze the storm building between you. 

“The fog reminds me of home.” He admits, coming to stand beside you as he placed two drinks on the ledge you were leaning on as the crowd inside yelled about something on the games…. The very same games you couldn’t stand to watch at the moment. 

“I miss home.” You blurt out, not tearing your eyes from the weather before you. 

“We’ll be back soon. Once the next victory tour starts.” He says emptily, shrugging a bit even though he knew that wasn’t what you meant. 

You didn’t miss home as in the empty victor village house that you despised with all your being. You missed home. 

Rainy nights swimming with the young boy you fell in love with. 

Fresh fish you had caught, giggling as your father cooked it up and your mother shucked the oysters you had brought home. 

Now home was a little different. Mags house in the Victors village had turned into the house for all. You did nightly dinners and played pretend. No games, no prostitution. Just food and family and poor Annie always losing at the games you made up even when you all tried to let her win. 

“How are the games?’ You ask, voice tight.  The young girl you mentored this year was already gone, taken out in the bloodbath by her own district partner. 

“Interesting.” Finnick admits, reaching a hand up to fix your hair and rub his thumb along your cheek. “District 12…. She’s got something….”

The girl on fire. You hoped she won. 

“I need to say it.” Finnick blurts, his voice strained as you turn to catch his eyes. “Please just let me say it.”

“No.” You snap out, turning away from him in hopes to hide the tears. “We talked about this and-”

“I love you.” He gasps out. “And I just needed to say it once because I felt as if I was going to burst….. And I know Snow is busy with the games so who else to hear it but just you and me in this moment.”

You can’t respond back, too scared and too hurt. But you grab his hand, and that’s all he needs to know for your answer. 

Your son is born during a rainstorm.

The type that makes everyone else shut their homes in fear as the streets begin filling with water in a familiar flood. 

You however keep all windows open so you could hear the sounds of the thunder and feel the cool embrace of the rain hitting your skin. 

Not a fake capital rain, but real rain, the rain you knew. 

Finnick is right there in flashes of thunder, lighting the room as he eases you through it, giving you breath during the storm. 

Only when it clears up and the brisk breeze fills the room you let the truth sink in, holding your baby boy closer to you as the ghost of your love is nowhere to be seen…. But you know he’s there every time it rains. Everytime you smell a storm coming, or feel the wet droplets of rain sink into your skin you know Finnick is near, never really far from you.

✨Starlit Archive ✨ Stardust Inbox ✨Cosmic Events ✨

[humptymp3]

Peeta: (has eyelashes and is nice)

Katniss: he is so diabolical it’s unreal. He’s trying to KILL me.

[mockbat-deactivated20260714]

“He never lets go of Annie's hand. Not when they walk, not when they eat. I doubt he ever plans to.”

[trolliworms]

I think the most depressing thing about sunrise on the reaping is how it shifts everything we know so far. We spent so long feeling bad for Katniss and Peeta just to find out they didn’t even have the worst of it. The original hunger games trilogy was just the tip of the goddamn ice berg.

I rewatched the first movie and I cried so much harder than usual because I know this was not the first Prim. Not the first Rue. Not by a long shot. And we have no clue the depths of the cruelty.

[hereforhappystucky]

So we all know the 75th Quell wasn’t just for Katniss now, right??

It was - get rid of Finnick, people tell him too much and like him too much

It was - get rid of Mags (she’ll volunteer to save anyone), she’s always been too much of a rebel and cares more about the tributes than the games (i.e. hiding Finnick from cameras)

It was - get rid of Beetee, we’re finally done with him (I want to know why he’s suddenly disposable though). But let’s make it as awful as possible and remind him every day what his son was feeling in his own last days

It was - get rid of Wiress (and also show the world what she’s become) because she never should have won (and we’ll show people what happens when you think you’re smarter than the Capitol)

It was - get rid of Johanna Mason, we killed everyone she loved and it didn’t break her enough so now we can’t control her

And of course, it was - get rid of those rebels from 12

But it wasn’t just punishment for Katniss. She had no idea how influential and volatile of a group they were.

Honestly, I feel like the 3rd Quell might have actually worked if the Capitol hadn’t decided to just send all the most rebellious and threatening victors into them. You can’t put 10+ people who rebelled in their own games back into an arena (and this time they’re all together) and expect it to go well for you???

[itsluckylolita]

The Art of Weakness | CHAPTER FIVE

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Summary: When you were a child you had a best friend, a little blonde boy who you used to do everything with until the reaping came and he was stolen away from you. His face is muddled in your memory now, his name a whisper on the tides you roamed in District 4 until his horrible fate became your own. Katniss Everdeen was not the first girl to volunteer for one she loved. This is the story of a girl and a boy, a tribute and a game, a victor and a rebellion;

This is your story.

Pairing(s): Finnick Odair x District 4!fem!reader

Warning(s): MDNI! Canon typical violence, descriptions of gore, a less kid-friendly take on the Hunger Games universe, mentions of SA and forced prostitution (Finnick is the love interest guys bfr), future chapters contain smut, read the hashtags for the rest!!

Word count: 3.2k

𐙚⭑𓂃──────────────────𓂃⭑𐙚

Training the next day was easier, everyone knew where the stations were and the careers had stopped trying to ‘befriend’ you, much to your delight. You played the part of the innocent volunteer well, case in point being your current predicament.

“You’re gripping the blade improperly.” Your instructor chastised, pulling you up from where you had fallen back on the training mats. You knew how to grip the stupid fake blade, but acting like you didn’t was surprisingly harder than you thought.

“I just — I’ve never held a blade like this before…” You whimpered. Out of the corner of your eye you saw the line of others waiting to practice, saw their cringing faces or mock laughter. You hated that you had to make yourself look like a fool in order to win the games, but you promised to trust Finnick’s judgement, so you continued to lose to your instructor until your time was up.

“Why don’t you go whine somewhere else, princess.” The tribute who was next in line scoffed, and you whipped your head around to see the girl from 8, Ruffle, standing there with her hands on her hips. Her dark hair was slicked back in a severe ponytail, pupils constricted in her shimmering irises. Silver, who stood behind her, chuckled at her comment. Guess they found someone to replace you in their alliance.

“Sorry.” You simpered, meekly walking off to find another area you could practice at. You decided to go to the natural poisons station, since you had absolutely no experience in that regard, and try your hand at it. You could’ve screamed by the time lunch rolled around. You were still barely halfway through being able to identify what species would kill you when Atala beckoned the tributes to eat. You cursed under your breath, getting lunch and sitting down with a sour expression.

“Something bothering you?” Blythe asked a few minutes later when he slid in beside you. He had no problems showing off his skills, proving to be adept at archery and spear-throwing over the past twenty-four hours. Mags and Finnick must have given him different advice from you.

“Yeah, I just spent half the day trying to figure out what plants will kill me and didn’t even scratch the surface.” You sighed, although you perked up when a familiar figure blocked your view of the lunchroom exit.

“Can I eat with ya’ll?” Magnolia Blue stood before you, looking like a nervous puppy as she smiled at you both.

“Of course, sit down.” You welcomed, and the girl put her tray down in front of yours, sitting on the opposite side of the table.

“This is Blythe, by the way. He’s from District 4 as well.” You introduced and he waved, smiling gently.

“Nice to meet you…” He trailed off, waiting for the girl to say her name. Blythe knew her name already, practically every tribute was vaguely familiar with each other, but you appreciated the sentiment when the girl’s eyes lightened.

“Magnolia Blue — or Magnolia if you don’t wan’ a mouthful, and Maggie, but only my momma still calls me that nowadays.” Magnolia Blue rambled out, and Blythe shot you a quick look, one which said; we told you not to be friends with her. You gave him an equally scathing smile which said; I don’t care.

“I saw that girl giving you trouble earlier, I’m sorry about that.” Magnolia Blue scowled, looking to where Ruffle sat with the careers.

“It’s no problem, I know I’m not the strongest but that's why we gotta look out for each other, right?” You nudged Blythe, the boy letting his eyes roll aggressively.

“You mean an alliance?” Magnolia whispered it like the thought was scandalous, as if it was an impossible idea. You leaned in, whispering back. 

“Exactly like that. If they get to do it, why don’t we?” You shrugged.

“But my…” She paused, biting her lip in deliberation, before she came out with it. Blythe leaned in at that, the girl speaking in low mumbles.

“My mentor said that if I…if I get into an alliance I won’t win.” She gulped, rapidly tapping her foot under the table. You screwed up your nose at that.

“Your mentor sounds like he’s bad at giving advice. Listen, if we all partner up at first, we can keep each other alive and then separate after the big dogs are taken out — no hard feelings.” You suggested, looking at Blythe.

“That’s how it usually works with alliances, isn’t it?” You urged, wanting their word. You knew with Finnick’s plan that you would need an alliance early on, a small trusted group you could rely on until…until…you tried not to think past that. Blythe opened his mouth, however he was stopped short by the conclusion of lunch.

“Lunch is over.” Atala announced, forcing your conversation to come to an abrupt end.

“Think about it.” You said to both of them, slipping past the other tributes and back into the gymnasium. You decided to go to a more familiar station, falling back to the old comforts of District 4. It was the ropes and snares station, where an instructor was patiently waiting beside the demonstration screen. You found it slightly odd that the bomb-rewiring station had no instructor yet this did, but the way they decided what was instructor-worthy and what wasn’t continued to elude you. You weren’t the only one with the idea to refocus on more practical skills rather than combat training, as Claudius and Annabelle — the girl from 11 — came up on either side of you before the instructor spoke.

“My name is Tula, and I am here to teach you everything you need to know about knots, ropes, and traps which can be used both on animals and tributes. First, I want us to begin with a basic overhand knot. Follow my lead, and if that's too confusing there are further visual instructions on the screen beside me.” She said, taking a piece of rope into her hands. The three of you did the same, taking one of the pieces you were given and completing the simple knot with ease.

“Good, now onto something more important — and difficult.” She changed the slide, the visuals becoming confusing to the untrained eye, however to you most of these knots and repetitions were familiar. They were docked at ports and woven into tapestries, used as entertainment for children during the summer months and bestowed to bind husband and wife. They were you.

“A snare can entrap an animal as easily as another tribute, and in situations such as forests or meadows a snare can be invaluable when taking out an enemy.” Tula began, picking up a different rope piece. The three of you mimicked her, following her instruction as she taught you how to make a simple snare. At first you worked quickly, with the type of experience that time and exposure gives a person, until you realized that your peers were further behind. You paused, cursing your mentor, before pretending like you too were struggling. 

“Y/n from District 4, right?” Claudius’ ambitious baritone asked, turning your gaze towards him. In your peripherals you saw Annabelle’s head twitch, a giveaway that she was eavesdropping.

“Yes.” You smiled gently, continuing your fake struggle. Looking back on it, you felt it then for the first time — your mask slipping on, your curated image that hid the real girl underneath morphing onto your face like a second skin. The mask of Y/n Crawford, innocent pearl, pure-hearted sister, debated lover of Finnick Odair.

“Shouldn’t you know how to do this, then? Ropes and knots, I mean.” He hummed, clicking his tongue as he swung one end of the rope to weave over another.

“Seems like this should come natural to you.” Claudius peered at your hands which worked at a steady rate, not fast but not slow — average, non-threatening.

“It should, shouldn’t it?” You laughed, not giving into his obvious attempt at intimidation.

“I don’t come from a fishing family, though. I was adopted when I was eleven into the Mayor's house, so I never really had to learn how to work with ropes and all the knots that come with it.” You lied, of course even the mayor's children learned the trick of the District’s trade, it would be a disgrace not to. You remembered Finnicks words, though, about how the careers were more often arrogant and underestimated their competition. Hopefully he would go back to his allies and tell them all about how the girl from District 4 couldn’t even use that to her advantage, how she should be ignored in favour of taking out stronger opponents first.

“What a shame. Guess I can’t blame you, though, not with a pretty face like yours.” Claudius winked when he caught your eye, making your face heat with flattery and embarrassment.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You feigned ignorance once more, noting the way Annabelle’s breath hitched beside you.

“Oh, nothing really, I’m just saying how I can understand why your mentor has taken such a liking to you.” Your gaze snapped towards him at the unsavoury comment, your mouth blubbering as you sought out a comeback.

“I’m done.” Annabelle piped up to Tula, ending your conversation with Claudius and making the two of you focus more intently on finishing your snares. It took the two of them nearly an hour to master the types of knots you’d known since before you could toddle, and you almost gave up on pretending until they finally got it.

“Good job you three, you’re fast learners.” Tula complimented, inspecting your work. You let your eyes drift up from your snare, making fleeting eye contact with Annabelle who’s ears darkened with a rush of blood when your gaze acknowledged her.

“Now if you would like to learn how to make sturdier knots, feel free to stay.” Tula encouraged, and when the three of you didnt move, she began to teach you how to make knots that would support your body weight when tightened. The rest of the day you allowed yourself the comforts of home within knots, ignoring the cutting looks you earned from Claudius and trying your best to avoid any further eye contact with Annabelle until the familiar ring of Atala’s formal tone echoed throughout the gymnasium.

“The day has concluded, please find your escorts and return to your apartments!” Atala ordered, and you felt like you could finally breathe when you found Blythe by the wrestling station, the boy sweaty and panting. His freckled cheeks were bright pink, rusty waves stuck to his forehead as he used a towel to dry his exposed skin. His instructor looked the same, worse for wear despite Blythe’s unassumingly lithe frame.

“Good day?” You asked, and Blythe wiped sweat away from his top lip.

“Yup.” He breathed, both of you walking towards the exit until you were stopped by Magnolia Blue, the girl tapping your shoulder. You turned around, your change in direction drawing Blythe’s attention.

“I wanna be allies with you,” She blurted out, “but only if Lark can join.”

You and Blythe looked a few steps behind her, where the boy from her district stood with his arms wrapped around himself. He was taller than Magnolia but shorter than you, and he put on his best smile as you looked over at him. Blythe made eye contact with you, communicating his hesitance silently. You gave him an exasperated expression back, and in his eyes you saw the shift, saw him surrender to your will as he realized there was no changing your perspective. 

“Okay, you have a deal.” You held your hand out to her, and she took it happily before bounding back to Lark, both of them speaking quietly while you and Blythe took your leave.

“I can’t believe we’re allying with them. They're going to get us both killed.” Blythe gritted out, flexing his hands.

“Don’t they deserve a chance to live too?” You asked, and Blythe shook his head.

“I thought you made a promise, Y/n.” His statement struck you deep, stunning you to silence as Filly waved you over from where she stood. 

“It looks like you really showed your stuff out there, hm?” Filly teased Blythe, and you kept quiet. In fact, you kept quiet for the rest of the night, eating dinner silently while Mags and Blythe spoke and Finnick scrutinized you with those gorgeous sapphires of his. You only spoke above a mumble when Finnick caught you in the hall after dinner, grabbing your arm to prevent you from entering your room.

“Hey, don’t take a shower yet. We have work to do.” He said, and you scrunched up your face.

“What work? The day is over, I’ve done what you’ve asked — I’ve made myself into a fool, I’ve made stupid alliances, what else is there?” You nearly growled, and Finnick blinked a few times. You knew you weren’t exactly yourself right now, but you couldn't contain your resentment for your situation in the face of the man who planned it all.

“The work of turning you into a weapon, honey. If you’re not training during the day then we need to train you during the night for the next two days until the interviews.” He told you, and your eyes widened.

“In combat?” You questioned and he let a quick rush of air out of his nose.

“Yes, sweetheart, in combat.” He raised his brows, motioning to where his room was, and you clenched your jaw. He began to walk and you followed him, the two of you slipping into his room without much fuss. You noticed that on the floor the soft carpet had been overtaken by training mats, where they came from you had no idea.

“You’re not going to be as strong as some tributes, but you’re not going to be as weak as others. You’re a nice middle ground.” Finnick explained, shedding his cardigan to reveal a short-sleeve black shirt underneath, the compression outlining the muscles of his torso which had been sculpted by years of work and training. You hadn’t seen him without a few layers on until then, and you realized that his lean bulk filled out most of his clothing rather than the fabric itself, chorded musculature flexing as he picked something up from beside the mats.

“My eyes are up here, shortcake.” Your gaze snapped up at that, seeing Finnick standing with batons in either hand and a wide grin showing off his pearly teeth.

“Don’t call me that.” You said as he tossed you a baton, rolling your shoulders as you walked up to the mats. He joined you, twirling the baton effortlessly in his grip before abruptly stopping it and taking a sturdy stance in front of you.

“Call you what?” He pouted before pointing down at your legs, which were positioned comfortably.

“Widen your legs and plant ‘em, you need to be able to take blows and give ‘em with proper force.” He leaned forward, pushing your legs apart with his baton and waiting for you to resettle yourself. 

“What exactly is the scenario here?” You asked, trying to mimic the way you saw Finnick standing.

“I am another tribute with a…” He regarded the baton for a moment, “…machete, and you don’t want to die.”

You had no time to react, no time to even strike your weapon before Finnick lunged forward and had his ‘blade’ at your neck, his face a hair length away from yours. He tutted and lowered the baton, tilting his head slightly.

“Gotta work on your reflexes, shortcake.” He chuckled, turning his back so that he could return to his starting stance. Oh, so this was how he was going to be? Alright, two can play that game, you thought. You launched from your place, using the element of surprise to swing your baton into his shoulder however Finnick dodged, turning around in time to jab his baton into your ribs.

“Aah!” You cried out, clutching your side.

“Like I said, reflexes.” He chastised. You gritted your teeth, returning to your firm stance and trying again. Finnick trained you past exhaustion, forcing you to repeat the same motions until you had perfected them and only allowing you to rest once you’d memorized a series of combat sequences and bested him at least twice.

“Good job, shortcake, finally got there in the end.” He panted, a light sheen of sweat bathing his skin in a soft glow.

“Why do you keep calling me that?” You tossed your baton to the ground, using the collar of your training uniform to dry your face. You sat down on the mats, hiking up your legs and resting your arms on your knees. Finnick grasped the back of his neck, looking up at the ceiling with a groan.

“I thought you said you were gonna trust me on this one, Y/n.” He sighed, picking up your baton and opening a wardrobe which your room didn’t possess. When he did you saw where the training mats had come from, as a few more were stacked neatly beside where Finnick deposited the batons.

“I trust you, but we don’t know each other. Isn’t it a bit odd that you know my childhood nickname?” You chuckled and Finnick sat down across from you, crossing his legs and leaning back on his arms.

“So who told you? Was it Celeste Kane?” You remembered once in school a friend of yours, Celeste, had come back bragging about how she got to go to the Victors Village in order to help her mom clean their houses. She wouldn’t stop talking about how Finnick Odair had complimented her necklace, which she wore for eight months straight after that.

“I have no idea who that is.” Finnick said, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Mayor Payne let it slip, then?” You could imagine a world where Thestus accidentally let your nickname slip when speaking to the victors, perhaps he embarrassingly explained why he would call you that and it stuck with Finnick somehow. Finnick cracked a smile, pointing towards you.

“You got it.” He grinned, clapping his hands together. Your eyebrows raised, surprised that you actually guessed his reasoning so quickly.

“Damn, and here I was thinking you wouldn’t find out until after the interviews.” He whined, and you felt days of tension leave your body.

“The Mayor had mentioned you during prep for a reaping a few years back when strawberry shortcakes were served to us victors, said he had a little girl who loved ‘em so much she got a nickname from it. Wasn’t hard to put two and two together when you volunteered.” Finnick cleared his throat, pushing off his knees in order to stand. He offered you his hand and you took it, the man hoisting you up with relative ease.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, dusting yourself off.

“Sorry for teasing you so much, I was just having a little fun while it lasted, I’m a real jerk.” He winked, walking you to his room door.

“Get some rest — real rest, tomorrow is a big day. It's showtime for the big bad gamemakers.” Finnick’s faux gasp made you smile a little and you did as you were told, going back to your room and taking a long shower. You snuggled up to be as comfortable as possible under the covers because you knew what tomorrow was. It was your only chance to solidify your persona aside from the interviews and land yourself somewhere in the unassuming middle amongst tributes. Not low enough to be hopeless but not high enough to be a threat, just talented enough that you had a shot.

It was score day. 

𐙚⭑𓂃──────────────────𓂃⭑𐙚

Taglist (Request to be added!): @leptitlu @luffypixie @backgroundreader @lyraea @x-gabrielle-x @lovingly-insane @happiness2112 @xoxpetals @shines-in-the-night @martygraciesversion381

A/N: Let me know what you guys think of the story so far!! I love reading and replying to all your comments they keep me motivated to write <33

[highladyofterrasen7]

"You're so funny."

Thanks, I first read finnick odair's death at the age of 11 and never fully recovered.

[monochrome-sunsets]

rereading catching fire and i just about burst into tears at finnick's introduction

tribute and victor at fourteen, being romantically pursued by capitol people "old or young" since sixteen....

the last time i read this books, i was about 13, one year younger than finnick when he was a tribute, and now i'm 22, two years younger than him in catching fire, and it's such a different fucking experience

i feel sick

[ellecdc]

Matched

Finnick Odair x fem!victor!reader who are constantly introduced to each other [1.2k words]

CW: people trying to introduce Finnick and reader, Capitol behaviours (body modification, eating-purging-eating, no sense of propriety), fluff, a surprise

You’d come to expect a lot of things to happen when attending a party in the Capitol.

There would be people dressed to varying levels of near insanity. There would be people literally eating until they were sick, then forcing themselves to be sick so that they could continue eating. There would be people approaching you, asking you questions, and running their hands over your clothes or hair or jewelry or body as though having seen the most traumatic moments of your life aired on TV from the safety of their homes made you friends.

And there would always be people trying to introduce you to or set you up with their favourite victor; the Capitol’s darling.

“There you are, darling!” A rather reptilian looking woman you knew to go by Komoda greeted you as she approached; arm aggressively interlocked with another’s who didn’t appear to be all that willing to be there. “There’s someone I’d like to introduce you to.”

You plastered on your show time smile and offered your hand to Capitol Darling Finnick Odair who accepted it readily, bowing his head slightly as he met your gaze.

“Lovely evening, isn’t it?”

“It always is in the Capitol.” You volleyed, smiling back over to the Capitol citizen who seemed very excited to be seeing two of her favourite victors intermingling. “Finnick and I have met a few times, actually.”

Komoda seemed rather bemused at the fact that the two of you had met and not immediately jumped each other's bones. “Oh… oh! Really?”

You hummed in the affirmative.

“Every year when we mentor new tributes.” Finnick explained.

Komoda tried to laugh. “Well, I just think that the two of you would get on rather well.”

“We get on fine.” You continued, feigning ignorance.

“The two of you would make a very handsome couple!” One of her friend’s chimed in, earning him nods of approval from the quickly forming group of spectators.

“Well, looks aren’t everything, are they?” You tried, and a few of the more…altered individuals seemed rather perplexed at the thought. “The two of us might not have anything in common.”

“That’s very true.” Finnick agreed. “Let’s see; how do you feel about the beach?”

“Too much sand; I’m shaking it out of everything I own for far too long afterwards. What’s your favourite pastime?”

“Swimming.” He answered.

“I never learned how.” You continued with pursed lips. “Least favourite season?”

“Winter. What’s your favourite holiday?”

“Christmas.”

Finnick hummed in displeasure before continuing. “Favourite animal?”

“Cats. Yours?”

“Dogs.”

You hummed in displeasure. “How do you feel about white chocolate?”

“Love it.” He replied easily; you scrunched your nose at him before he carried on. “What’s a dealbreaker for you?”

“People who like white chocolate.”

He pressed his lips into a flat line and nodded his head in understanding. “Very fair.”

You looked back over at Komoda and her friends to see them all gaping at the two of you.

“Sorry to disappoint, folks.” Finnick apologized with a shrug of his shoulder. “It’s apparently just not meant to be.”

“But…” Komoda started, looking rather crestfallen. “I…I was so sure!”

“You’re not the first to try to set us up.” You placated, placing a gentle hand over the scale-like jewels on the shoulder of her gown. “You probably won’t be the last, either.”

“Maybe the 29th time will be the charm, hm?” Finnick offered you with a wink, causing you to roll your eyes at him.

“Don’t hold your breath, Odair.”

“I can hold my breath for a very long time, sweetheart; I’m a world class swimmer, afterall.”

“Oh, you’re something alright.” You laughed as you turned to walk away, deciding then to begin your rounds of goodbyes before heading back to your suite.

You held the towel to your face for a few seconds, just taking a moment to breathe and enjoy the quiet, warmth, and serenity of your post-party ritual.

You were just about to pull the towel away when you felt gentle hands slide around your waist before you were being embraced between two strong arms.

“Long night?” He murmured into your shoulder before pressing a kiss to it.

You hummed in agreement and pulled the towel away from your face, smiling at Finnick in the reflection of the mirror.

“It always is in the Capitol.” You replied.

He offered you a knowing smile before pressing another kiss to your shoulder.

“Missed you.” He said before reaching around you to grab some makeup wipes to begin removing the work his own stylists put into his appearance tonight. “Anything interesting happen?”

You hummed noncommittally as you smoothed cream over your skin. “Not really. Someone tried setting me up with this guy again.”

“Really?” Finnick asked, feigning intrigue. “Was it a match made in heaven?”

You made a so-so sound. “He was pretty cute,” you allowed, “but I don’t know if it would work.”

“No?”

“No. I mean, for one, he didn’t start drooling the second he saw me. Huge red flag I think.”

With that, Finnick theatrically slammed his hand down on the countertop and levelled you with a disbelieving look. “You mean to tell me that he didn’t immediately fall to his knees in worship?”

“No!”

Finnick shook his head; simply aghast. “You can do so much better, honey.”

Your smile turned soft as you watched him lather some of his face wash between his hands before bringing them to his face. “I think so too.”

By the time he was done with washing his face, you were sitting on the counter with Finnick standing between your legs as you massaged some moisturizer into his skin.

“They don’t know what you deserve anyway.” Finnick states suddenly.

Your brows scrunched in confusion. “Who doesn’t?”

“The Capitol people; they don’t know what kind of partner you deserve.”

You stayed quiet as you finished working the product into his skin, pressing a kiss to his lips to alert him to the fact that you were finished. You felt rather shy when he opened his eyes and you found yourself pinned beneath his sea green gaze.

“They’d be sorely mistaken if they thought Capitol Darling Finnick Odair was all you deserved.”

You smiled softly at him before pressing another softer, lingering kiss to his lips.

“I’m rather fond of this Finnick Odair.”

You relished in the slight pink dusting of his cheeks as his smile grew wider before he pulled you in, cradling you to his chest.

You’d come to expect a lot of things to happen when attending a party in the Capitol.

It would take your stylists three hours to prep you for the party. It would take you forty minutes to disassemble yourself after the party. The outfits and jewelry you wore would cost more than most District families saw in years.

And there would always be people trying to introduce you to or set you up with their favourite victor; the Capitol’s darling.

The best part was that no one knew you and Finnick Odair have actually been dating behind closed doors for four years now.

[lady-corrine]

Thinking again about how Suzanne esentially subverted the "beloved famous man that is actually a horrible person in real life" with Finnick, who is the complete opposite of that.

Finnick has this whole image costructed around him by the people that abused him for years: the Capitol's darling, their golden boy, the sex symbol of Panem, the man that has countless lovers but leaves them constantly and doesn't look back etc. And you would expect, initially, to meet a man that retains at least a part of that persona in his day to day life. But Finnick doesn't, not even one bit.

You see instead a man that is deeply in love and completely devoted to the one woman he quite literally adores, a man that protects Mags, his old mentor and his mother figure, as much as he can, a man that wouldn't leave Johanna behind, a man that gathers whatever strenght he has left to speak publicly about the abuse inflicted upon him at the government's hands; the opposite of what the Capitol's media and reputation made him out to be.

[targaryenluvs]

OH BABY!

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader, young!naive!tribute reader

summary: finnick found you to be as cute as ever. but you aren’t exactly the smartest in the room according to him. luckily, finnicks more than happy to help his sweet baby succeed, and he will not let you forget him.

warnings: AGE GAP (18 - 23) smut, FILTH THIS MAN IS DOWNBAD, possessive, corruption, pervy finnick, violent thoughts/intrusive, exhibitionist? degradation, oral (m & f), p in v, overstimulation, praise, mirror kink? spanking 👀 rough sex? tummy bulge, my first time writing smut be kind 😭

word count: 5k - this is literally the longest fic ive written.

a/n: this is what happens at 6am and i can’t sleep, thoughts are thunk -UPDATE HOLY CRAP THERE IS GONNA BE A NEW MOVIW AND BOOKKKSJSNABS

taglist: @coolchick333 @doublesideeye

“and the female tribute for district four, y/n l/n.” your eye involuntarily twitched at your name being called. the people around you, distanced themselves from you as a path was carved to your own hell.

as you walked to the platform you kept your head down. you were actually hopeful that you’d get through this reaping, your last and then never see the inside of the arena. but of course fate was against you. as you stood in front of the people you couldn’t help the silent tears that fled down your face.

your mothers face was tired and drained, she had a feeling you’d get picked. mothers intuition? your father was pissed, his little girl, his sweetheart, being thrown into an arena to die? and worst of all, there wasn’t anything he could do.

you felt alone, as if no one could help you. and as you said goodbye to the life you knew, you could only pray for safety, and a quick death.

as you were escorted to the train you fiddled with your sweater sleeves. pulling them down, rolling them up, just to focus your mind on something. it was chilly, most likely the air conditioning on the train and sometimes you had to hold down your skirt.

finnick couldn’t take his eyes of you once he saw you on the train. you looked so tiny in the chair and he couldn’t help but smile.

he practically had you all to himself.

“y/n?” your head shot up at your name being called and you were met with finnick odair in all his glory. “finnick? finnick odair?” even calling his name you sounded so unsure, so he smiled and nodded.

“i’m your mentor, and i promise to try my best to get you to win.” he sat down in front of you, spreading his legs and you felt your face warm up. he found you adorable, with a cute white sweater and a short black skirt. you had your hair down with the front parts tied up with a bow. his own personal present.

your shy demeanour reminded him of your young age, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. you were looking everywhere but at him and he loved it.

“do… do you think i can win?” god no. the tributes would eat you up alive, but he’d try his best. “i do.” with just two words of encouragement, you smiled at him for the first time.

finnick wanted you to smile at him forever.

“are you hungry?” the rumbling of your stomach answered his question, as you ducked your head in your hands in embarrassment.

he moved your hands aside, tilting your chin up, "it's okay to be hungry sweetheart, come on." he held his hand out for you and he laughed at your hesitance. "i don't bite, not unless you want me to.” the last part of his sentence came out hushed and you averted your eyesight from him.

there were so many foods laid out before you, and it wasn’t as if you were poor, but god, it all looked nice. the eclairs took your attention away as you reached for one, your finger sweeping cream off the top before placing it in your mouth. it was sickeningly sugary but you had a sweet tooth, you retracted your finger with a pop! and you somehow didn’t hear finnicks groan.

how on earth were you not realising how dirty it seemed? and it was there finnick realised how pure you were, “its so good,” you flashed him a toothy grin, “you'll have some won't you finnick?" you offered it up to him with two hands and how could he resist? the two of you spent the rest of your time on the train eating and talking, finnick utilising his time to get to know you.

you’d spent a day getting settled and were now to get ready for your interview.

after being prepped and readied, you were shuffled into your dressing room where analise, damian and sarah awaited. a range of compliments were thrown your way.

“oh isn’t she adorable?”

“i could pinch her cheeks forever!”

“you are precious!”

they were so nice to you and you loved it, but you barely ever learned how to take compliments so you ended up just nodding your head. “she is gorgeous,” you snapped your head up to the doorway and there stood your mentor, in all his glory. his compliment felt heavier than the rest, like he truly meant it, and you looked down at your hands as you fought off the blush threatening to rise on your cheeks.

in an hour you’d been through a whirlwind of makeup, dresses and jewels. orange, blue, black and all, you loved each one but for some reason after the four of them discussed you’d always be taken out of it.

it wasn’t until you were placed in an off the shoulder, floor length, white dress that you remained in it. and as you looked in the mirror you couldn’t help but stare. your hair was pinned up again, and small flowers were placed throughout. you felt like a princess and finnick agreed. you hadn’t even noticed that your stylists were gone until you heard the door shut.

it was just you and finnick.

“you look incredible.” finnick whispered, he was behind you now. his hand had a mind of its own as it placed a stray hair behind your ear. you turned your head his way, “really?” your voice was so soft and doused in disbelief. if he wasn’t next to you he wouldn’t have heard you. his hand trailed along your neck as he placed your hair behind, he nodded. “i have something for you.”

he pulled out a small seashell, and your eyes lit up, “oh finnick.” you sighed as he placed it in your hands. “it reminded me of you, small, gorgeous.” you looked up at him with doe eyes and he felt like grabbing you and taking you away.

you were breathtaking and you looked at him as if he was god.

“thank you finn, do you mind maybe putting it in my hair?” he took the trinket and placed it above your ear, entangling in with your hair. your heels were on but untied so finnick got onto his knees before patting his knee. he grabbed the straps before tieing them. his fingertips worked quickly and his face was concentrated. he was done and he looked up at you before turning you to the mirror.

finnicks hands were on your shoulder as he leaned in to whisper, “all done, you look perfect sweetheart.” you turned before reaching up on your tiptoes, “thank you finnick!” you kissed him on his nose before turning back and finnick grinned, “aren’t you cute?” he stood behind you, attached like a shadow. your skin felt soft underneath his fingertips and he couldn’t help but wander. down your arms, to your waist, he could feel you tensing up underneath him and he could feel his face trying to fight off his smirk.

“finnick?” you breathed out, “what’re you doing?” your voice was small, and unsure. “tell me to stop.” you should. you should tell him to stop. but all you could think about was finnicks hands and how good they felt.

“it’s time!” damian shouted out as you peeled away from finnick to open the door. damian was all too happy to see you as he clapped his hands together. “ah, my special girl you are truly an angel.” finnick knew that. finnick has already said that. finnick had you in his arms and oh so close and this idiot took you away. his sweet girl.

finnick was wondering where his trident was so that he could impale him through the stomach.

“come on y/n.” he ushered you out the door but you managed to slip another look at finnick and all you saw was pure rage.

the interview went well, in your eyes at least.

caesar was as upbeat as usual and it did mostly centre around your dress and looks but you felt you could try your best to use it to your advantage.

the audience was enamoured and you felt you did your best. “and y/n, tell us, what’s your secret strategy for the games? any tricks up your sleeve?” you patted his knee before pointing at him jokingly, “well caesar, it wouldn’t be a secret if i divulged now would it?” everyone loved your answer and caesar doubled over, “aren’t you cheeky! isn’t our diamond here so playful? but a sweetheart nonetheless!” the crowd agreed loudly.

“now, since you came out i think we’ve all been wondering where that seashell came from. it doesn’t exactly match the theme of your outfit.” you could hear the murmurs from the crowd agreeing with his words.

“am i right in suspecting a certain blonde mentor of yours?” you pursed your lips and a giggle began to form as caesar pumped his fist in the air, “i think we got it! can we expect the two of you together once you win?” you’d never even had a boyfriend and here you were being put together with the finnick odair, you were sure everyone could tell how giddy you were.

you felt as if you had a million eyes on you, your whole body was heating up as you buried your head in your hands. “ah we caught her out! someone’s got a crush! but then again it’s finnick odair so don’t we all?” a bunch of cheers erupted as you beamed.

“well it was a wonderful to meet you, truly! our diamond here, y/n l/n!” screams and shouts directed your way came in full force as you waved at caesar and blew kisses to all. as you walked back you bumped into someone.

“y/n right?” the boy from three, theo.

you nodded and stuck your hand out, “nice to meet you!” he looked down at your hand and back up at you before laughing, “very formal, i like it. i’m theo, your dress is nice but i think the girl wearing it is breathtaking.” you giggled before tucking your hair behind your ear.

finnick stood with the other mentors and held himself back from shoving haymitch out the way to get him to stop rambling on. his grip on his glass was solid, so it wasn’t a surprise when it shattered. “oh my!” effie yelled out as finnick apologised before someone came to clean it up. he stepped around the person before excusing himself to get to you.

you were laughing, hard. what in panem was so funny?

you were wiping tears away from your eyes as finnick joined the two of you, his hand on your back as theo nodded at him, “finnick.” he hated him. why the hell did theo speak as if he knew him personally? his smug face was unbelievably irritating. “finnick! how’d i do?” and the second you spoke he felt the anger dissipate, he adored the way you waited for his response as if it held all the answers.

“you did well.” finnicks answer felt snippy and made you feel as if you’d done something wrong. “we should get going.” he directed you away from the boy as you shouted out, “i’ll see you around!”

the entire elevator ride was, to put it lightly, awkward. it left you feeling confined in what little space you and finnick had. “finn? are you okay?” you placed your hand on his arm and stood in-front of him. you were hoping he’d explain what was wrong but what you didn’t expect was to be pushed against the side of the elevator and finnick kissing you. his hand was on your waist again and he shuffled your dress up, slithering underneath.

you moaned in his mouth, his hands playing and gripping at your ass. in reaction, your fingers thread through his hair and your grip tightened, “finn- not here.” the elevator was glass and you were scared of people seeing. finnick found it hard to care, drunk off your perfume. in a panic, you pulled away from him, your hands cradling his face to make him listen. “i’ve… never,” the whisper hung over the both of you, the tension in the air thick and hot.

instead of being met with judgment, he murmured, “i’ll make it good for you, i promise.” finnick had finally gotten a taste, and he could only crave more. his lips met your neck, his warm tongue painting wet desire into your skin. it was almost too much for little old you, letting out quiet whimpers as he explored you. his sleeves were rolled and you needed to ground yourself, your nails dug into his veiny arms. “finn-” you protested but he could tell you didn’t want to. just a little longer and he could get you to give in. “just let me feel you.”

the elevator stopping brought the two of you back as you fixed your dress and finnick fixed his own hair, running his hands through it. he directed you out of the elevator and nodded in acknowledgment to the people entering. as you walked onto your floor you were met with servants, stylists and others. it seems damian and analise had taken it upon themselves to invite some friends and you were eager to meet them.

whereas finnick wanted to rip your dress off and take you till the morning.

the same dainty hands which were running all over him were shaking others and waving as you all sat down to eat. as everyone feasted away you couldn’t help but play with your own meal. you were flushed and all you wanted was to kiss finnick again. he was sitting next to you and wasn’t hungry for food, he wanted to eat something else.

your dress didn’t hide much of your chest and when you reclined in your seat, crossing your arms and pushing up your breasts?

finnick needed to see more.

the clattering of his fork on the floor drew the attention of some, but they went back to their conversations and bets. “i’ll get it for you.” you pushed back your seat and got down to your knees, flicking up the tables sheet and searched around for it before hitting cold metal. you reached your hand out with the fork to finnick. his cock was throbbing at the image of you on the floor, chest on display and a sweet smile on your face. he bent down and grinned, “you look good on your knees sweetheart.”

his words went straight down between your legs and your mouth fell open at his words.

such vulgar words from such a beautiful man.

his hand came down to close your jaw. you felt, weird. as you sat back on your chair you felt warm? but a good warm? it was tantalising. you wondered if it was normal.

finnick would tell you right?

“finnick.” his head turned your way, “what is it y/n?” you leaned closer and so did he, your hands cupped around his ear, “i feel weird.” his eyebrows shot up as a sign of interest, “oh? what’s wrong honey? where do you feel weird?” you gulped, your throat felt dry and for some reason it felt dirty to talk about.

your eyes drifted downwards and as you looked up finnicks eyes seemed darker. “here?” his touch was soft on your thigh underneath the table as you gasped.

“everything all right dear?” sarah questioned as you nodded. it felt so good, his touch. but it wasn’t exactly where needed, his hand trailed closer and higher, until it was gone. your head snapped up at him as he smirked at you, mocking you.

for the rest of the night he didn’t even pay attention to you. and you had no clue why.

you couldn’t sleep after the day you had and all your mind was thinking of was finnick. finnicks hands, his arms, his mouth, his words.

“i don’t bite, unless you want me to.”

“yes, here.”

“i’ll make it so good for you.”

“just let me feel you.”

“you look good on your knees sweetheart.”

your room was too quiet, making it unchallenging for your thoughts to run wild at the anticipation of finnick odair. you couldn’t bear it, so you left to the busiest room you could think of.

your leg was shaking up and down and your mind was pacing whilst your body couldn’t. the butterflies were practically knocking around in your stomach and you hoped perhaps finnick could help. he’d help you right? but he didn’t before. maybe he was just tired? you were so desperate for help and answers that you’d forgone knocking and walked right in.

only to be met with an extremely wet finnick odair.

by your luck your eyes were probably poking out of your head at the sight of him, you couldn’t help but stare. it was your first time being in the same room as a man so, naked? for the lack of a better word, he still had a very short towel wrapped around his bottom half. was it small? or did he make it look small?

“see something you like sweetie?” god his voice was so saccharine, how the hell did his voice work you up? “i- i wanted to t-talk.” and you were stuttering, great! he walked closer to you and you stepped back, all the way into his wall. “yeah? does my pretty girl wanna talk?” you nodded along dumbly as your breath quickened. “words sweetie, use your words.” you swallowed, “yes.”

his thumb caressed your cheek before brushing along your lips, “you sure you just want to talk?” and there they were, the butterflies. you shook your head, “no? what do you want?” you played with your night dress, “you?” it was a soft murmur and finnick wanted you to beg. he’d been pining after you since the second he saw you, it’s only fair right?

“where do you want me?” his words were hot in your ear, his body was wet and your white night dress was suddenly see through. his hand rested on your ass, “here?” you shook your head, “no?” his thumb brushed over your nipple as your nails pressed into his neck, pulling him into yours. your breath was heavy and he was unrelenting.

his hand moved from your ass to cup your front as you gasped, “here?” you nodding along dumbly, “please finnick, i’ve been wanting you for the whole day, i’ll be good for you i promise.” your words were music to his ears, “yeah? you’re gonna be good f’me?”

“yes, yes, yes.” you whined as you wrapped your arms around his neck. standing on your tiptoes as you bit your lip. “you gonna let me use you yeah? do whatever i want?” you were practically jumping up and down at this point, your tits with you. your straps were pushed down as your dress fell down to the floor. his cock was throbbing at the sight of you, he’d been waiting for this.

“then on your knees honey.” you were quick to obey as he pushed you down to the cold floor, his towel quickly ripped off, courtesy of you.

it was your first time doing anything sexual so any cock was bound to be big in your eyes. finnick loved the sight of you on your knees, innocent as ever. fully nude, hands slotted nicely between your thighs. he wanted to ruin you. he ran his hand along his dick, pumping it before resting the tip on your lips.

as if you were on auto-control, your lips parted to let him through. a salty taste flooded through your mouth as he cooed down at you.

“you’re doing so well for me.”

“pretty baby on her knees, who knew you’d be such a slut?”

your eyes flickered up at him as you moved your head forwards on your own accord. “fuck.” he groaned as you replaced his hands with yours.

he wanted to go easy on you.

but kitten licks at the tip and soft kisses weren’t doing it for him. you opened your mouth again, gaining confidence and feeding off of finnicks praises. his large hand placed on the back of your head, fingers spread out as he thrusted down your throat.

the sounds that filled his room were lewd. squelches and groans as you tried your best to keep going. your cheeks hollowed out as finnick guided you, “relax your throat, try breathe through your nose. if it’s too much just tap my thigh sweetie.”

you retracted, catching your breath as you gazed up at him whilst simultaneously blinking away the tears in your eyes but a few fell free. he couldn’t help but moan. your messy mouth mixed with your saliva and his pre-cum. “you think theo’s this big? you think he could make you choke on his dick?” you shook your head immediately.

his member felt cold without the warmth of your mouth, but he was feeling nice so he let you take a break. “too big for you sweetie?” you shook your head furiously, “naw is my baby tough?” you giggled as you wrapped your lips around him again, your tongue flat against the underside of his dick as he eased himself in. “ah- fuck.”

but he can only hold out for so long as he began to fasten his pace, chasing his high. your fingers dug into his thighs right under his ass, for some reason you seemed to have something to prove as you took him all the way. your moans egged him on as his hips thrust forwards, “so good f’me, my s-sweet girl.” his praises fueled you on as your nose met his naval. salty tears fell down your cheeks and finnick was in his right mind to lick them all up.

god you were better than he’d imagined. and trust him, he’d imagined a lot.

“swallow for me yeah? be a good girl and open wide.” thick cum coated your tongue as you gladly accepted. finnick proudly gazed upon your painted face. watery eyes, sticky face. all for him. you gulped it down before wiping off the remaining waste on your face, eyeing finnick up before licking it off your fingers.

“what happened to the diamond? only a whore for me right?” your fingers were wet as you pulled them out. “uh-huh.” your agreed as he pulled you up. “do you even know what that means?” he teased as you puckered your lips before shaking your head. “thought so, you wanna be good for me?” you nodded, “on the bed baby.”

you sat down on the bed as you waited for finnick to join you. he situated himself between your legs, running his hands along them. “lean back for me. you took me so well, you want me to make you feel good too?” your eyes widened at the idea, “yes please finn.” his hands reached up and rested under your breasts, “i don’t know if you’ve earned it honey.” your lips twisted into a slight frown, your waterline glazing over.

“i was! i did what you asked finn, please.”

he palmed your breast, massaging it softly as you threw your head back, “please. please keep going.” your begging was more than enough for him, his baby asked so nicely no?

“yeah? you like me playing with you?” incoherent babbles fell from your lips as finnicks mouth kissed your breast. his hand trailed down to feel you, and he was met with warm wetness. the moan you let out was ungodly, “finnick please! oh god it feels so- so good.” he couldn’t help admire you, eyes screwed shut, hands clutching the pristine white sheets.

“oh baby, can you be quiet for me? quiet for finn?” a string of ‘uh-huhs’ came from your mouth as finnick slid a finger into you, a tight fit. “oh my god!” you yelped before slamming your hand over your mouth. he was knuckle deep as he worked his finger in before curling it, then another, then another. his free hand was pushing your hips down into the mattress as your hips lifted upwards with every move he made.

“finnick, finnick. you feel so good.” you cried out as he retracted his fingers before curling them upwards. he knew exactly what to do, where to be, what to say. his name fell from your lips like a prayer and your nails raked down his back as he grunted.

now, finnicks fingers were one thing, but his mouth?

his tongue pressed against your clit and you swear you saw god, finnick was probably the god. his tongue flicked over your clit as his fingers entered your cunt again, the pressure in your stomach was building so high you were afraid of the fall.

a wave of pleasure fell over you as finnick talked you through it, “that’s it baby, let go.” he hovered over you as his fingers worked your cunt. your nails had bloodied his back, scratched raw. as you moved your fingers finnick hissed into your ear. “m’ sorry, m’ so so sorry.” your head was spinning and you wanted to rest, but apparently finnick had other ideas as he lowered himself to your core. your mind was hazy as your hand clutched the pillow your head laid on, the other twisted in his hair.

“what’re you doing?” finnicks green eyes pierced through you as he raised his head from in between your thighs. featherlight kisses trailed upwards to your pussy as your thighs twitched and closed around his head, still sensitive as ever. “just want a taste, clean you up.” he mumbled as he tongue breached your entrance and you were back where you were before.

this man was driven youd give him that.

“finn s’ too much, please.” your words were slurred as he delved inside. he couldn’t find it in himself to let up, you were so sweet, he just wanted a taste. so he kept going, his tongue, his hands, his words. if there was one thing you knew about finnick it was that he could talk anyone into anything. so you found yourself squirming underneath his strong arms, forearm pinning you down to the bed as he made your back arch and your toes curl.

“sweet baby, so sweet.” all attempts of getting away, only caused him to get annoyed with you, can’t you just lay down and let him ruin you? at this point it was for his pleasure rather than yours. your thighs were practically squeezing his head and neck but he kept going. you didn’t know where to put your hands, pulling his hair was no good. your hand somehow ended up on your clit, moving in a circular motion as the other palmed your breast.

each time he made you come you rested your head, energy depleted. but again he ended up between your legs and pathetic pleas from you did nothing to make him stop.

“wanna make you feel good.”

“just one more, you can take it sweetheart.”

when your fourth rolled around you were so far gone. “pretty baby, not a single thought up there huh?” you couldn’t even bring yourself to respond, and he didn’t expect you to. he brushed away the stray hairs from your face and kissed you passionately. “you did so well f’me honey. made me proud, you got one more in you for me?” it wasn’t a question, his dick was painfully hard and he only knew of one solution.

you tiredly shook your head, “no more finny.” he grinned, “no? you don’t want my cock?” your breath hitched at his words and you knew you were fucked. “mhm. want it.” you were reduced to one to two words in a sentence.

“yeah you do. on your knees baby.” you tiredly rolled over, situating yourself on your knees and the palms of your hands as finnick kneaded your ass. his hands grazed over the skin before-

smack!

“think you should be able to see yourself baby.” his hand yanked at your hair as you found your reflection glaring back at you. “so pretty, aren’t you?” finnick knew you were horrible at accepting compliments and he was more than happy to use it against you.

smack!

you’d taken too long to answer, but based on finnicks smug expression you could tell he was hoping for it. “you have to answer baby.” finnicks arm came across your waist, pulling you up, flush with his chest as his hands pawed at your chest.

“you wanna be my baby yeah?” you could only manage moans and finnick was not happy. he threw you forwards as you caught yourself with your hands infront of you.

smack!

“fucked you so good you can’t even talk.” he taunted you as he dragged his cock in between your drenched folds. finnicks groans were deep, and so hot. “you know how long i wanted to fuck you baby? in that short skirt on the train? when you licked up that cream? my girls dirty huh?” you didn’t respond and it only fuelled his fire, he’d wanted you for so long and now you had the audacity to ignore him?

he thrusted into you without warning and you screamed out. “want to act like a slut? i’ll treat you like one. fuck!” your walls were squeezing down on him, sucking him in and he was more than happy to oblige. his hips snapped against your ass as you gripped onto the sheets for dear life. his grip on your hips bruised, leaving a fiery impression in their wake. finnick had stamina for days, he was strong and built. you were small and fragile, finnick was glad to be the one to break you in.

he pulled you up to him again as he kissed you frantically, capturing your bottom lip in between his teeth. he was relentless in his pursuit for his high, he marked up any place he could as he continued to drive into you with determination.

“bet you dreamed of this, of me.” his hand gripped your throat, his eyes bore into your own, finnick was inescapable. every touch, every thrust, all him. you were enveloped in his being and he worshipped yours. finnick continued to pound into you harshly, cock gliding easily against your inner walls. he was deep inside but he wanted to be deeper. “yes! yes! harder!” you cried out.

his hand pressed down onto your stomach, “feel that?” his breath was prominent by your ear, “oh god!” you exclaimed, it felt as if you were filled to the brim as he bottomed out in you. thick, hot cum released into you as his and your moans were raising in pitch and his hips began to stutter.

the room was filled with the sound of slapping skin, the promise of silence forgotten. “let go baby, you’re close. let go.” the two of you had eachother and it was more than enough. his groans were deep and animalistic as he spilled himself inside you. your hand reached behind you to caress his neck. thank yous spilled out from you, your whole being was ignited, you never knew you could feel so good.

the two of you lied together, entangled in sheets and a mess of limbs. you couldn’t tell where finnick odair began and y/n l/n started. all you knew was that he was yours, and you were his.

you’d fallen asleep a bit ago, your chest rising and falling steadily. finnicks arm curled around you as you rested on his chest. from the moonlight spilling into his room he could view the bruises tattering your smooth skin. as he traced over them he couldn’t help but grin, he could imagine you limping in the arena.

you sure as hell weren’t forgetting him anytime soon.

[endless-ineffabilities]

the other side of the door (1/2)

Ewan Mitchell x bestfriend!reader

a/n: so there was this, and now you have this. bish bash bosh.

main masterlist

The cast has gathered in Tom's apartment for the night, drinks and conversation flowing freely. Ewan brought you with him, as he always does. You've been his constant plus-one — to parties, premieres, and even group holidays.

You've been around them so much, that the cast members already consider you as their good friend.

When they first met you, they had mistakenly thought you were Ewan's girlfriend.

But no, he profusely fended off such allegations, clarifying that you were his "bestfriend, and other half." Doesn't he know that calling you his other half kind of makes it worse?

Because you want them to be right.

You've been in love with him for a while now.

And he doesn't feel the same. Talk about the sob story of your life.

Not too long ago, you and Ewan were a tangle of limbs on your couch, covered in layers of sweaters and duvets to keep warm. A film played on TV. It used to be one of your favourites, but not after that night.

One glass of wine led to another—a kiss on the forehead, a peck on the cheek, brushes of skin against skin.

And suddenly, you were kissing him.

And he was kissing you back with just as much fervour. Just as much love.

Or so you thought.

"Wait, love," he panted, pulling away, his forehead still pressed against yours. His every exhale fanned warmth over your face, and he was all you felt. All you saw, all you smelled. He was all around you.

"What?"

"We can't," he whispered, and you strained to hear him. "We can't do this."

Your chest tightened, and judging by his worried expression, he can see the distress clear on your face.

"Why not?" you asked meekly, your hands still clutching his chest.

He smiled sadly, brushing your hair away from your face. "We're best friends, my darling. I don't want to ruin this. What we have—it's good. Don't we keep saying that it's forever? I mean that."

"I know," you replied, shaking your head slightly, "but we've known each other for years, Ewan. Did you never think... about us? And how we could be... We could be good together."

"We are good together," he insisted. "Which is why we shouldn't change this. We're only going to mess it up."

"But I—"

"And," he cut you off, "I don't think I want to get into something like that right now. My career's just taking off, and I want to pour my entire self into it." He laughed dryly, as if infusing casual humour into the situation and trying to make it seem like it's not a big deal would make it all better. "Hell, I can't even think about dating anyone."

But I'm not just anyone, you wanted to say, but you kept it in. You know Ewan, and once he has his mind set, there is no changing it. Not without great effort and cause anyway.

You did your best to avoid him for an entire week after that, ignoring his calls and his extensive voicemails, but he eventually wore you down, showing up at your door with a bouquet of flowers and a massive tray of your favourite dessert.

A peace offering. You're his best friend and he can't bear to have a rift between the two of you, he said.

He was right.

You want—need—him around. No matter what. Your true feelings can take the back burner.

This is meant to be forever, after all.

The hour is late and you feel exhaustion setting in. You think of heading home, but you can't find Ewan anywhere, and you have been searching for the last ten minutes.

"Hey, girly!" Phia cheerily says as she stumbles upon you in the hallway. "You alright?"

"Yeah, just a bit tired. Have you seen Ewan?"

"Oh, I don't know," she immediately replies. "He's not in the living area, last I checked. Maybe he's in one of the rooms upstairs? Taking a breather?"

"Oh, could he be?" He normally doesn't leave you all alone during these things, so if he's nowhere in sight, he must really need a minute to himself.

Before you can protest, Phia loops her arm around yours. "I'll come with you, love. Let's go and have a look."

Phia chats your ear off and you are grateful for the distraction, but nothing could have prepared you for what comes next.

You hear hushed voices from inside one of the rooms. As you near the one farthest from the staircase, the voices become clearer. The door is open just a crack, but the guest room is tiny enough that even the softest sounds are amplified in it.

There's a man's voice. Ewan's, as distinguishable to you as your favourite melody. Followed by a lilting, high-pitched giggle.

"I'm serious, Lou," Ewan says, raising his voice a tad, "I think I've had enough to drink."

Louise, the twins' cousin, groans playfully. You hear some shuffling. A mattress creaking under weight. "You're such a lightweight, Ewan."

"Hey! I'm not a lightweight," Ewan counters, humour seeping in his tone.

"Oh yeah?" Her voice drops to a sultry drawl. "So you're sober enough to come here and kiss me then?"

Your stomach lurches. You've only had one drink, yet the room tilts, and the walls seem to spin around you. You catch Phia's eye—her expression mirrors your disbelief, wide-eyed and incredulous.

She is about to push the door open, when you catch her wrist and shake your head vehemently. You whisper urgently, "Phi, let's just go."

"What? But he—" She pauses when the first smacking noises resound from the room. Louise moans against Ewan as she kisses him.

As he kisses her.

So much for him claiming he didn't want to date anyone. Maybe he just didn't want to date you. Let alone want you the way he clearly wants her—the way he's having her behind that door.

"What about the girl you came with?" you hear her ask.

"What girl?" He breathes, actually sounding confused. You feel nothing more than an afterthought. Just some girl he can't even remember.

Certainly not his forever. You're not even his 'right now'.

"Fuckin' hell," Phia curses under her breath.

"Oh," Ewan says, as it finally dawns on him, "she's... she's just my friend."

"Phia, let's go please," you repeat, more insistent this time. She hears the desperation in your tone and takes your hand comfortingly, pulling you along downstairs.

Fabien stands near the foot of the staircase, absently nursing his drink while scrolling through his phone. His gaze shifts when he spots the two of you, eyebrows lifting in mild curiosity.

"Whoa there," he says, his eyes scanning your face with concern. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing—"

But Phia interjects roughly. "We're beating Ewan up later."

"Phia, come on," you mumble, growing embarrassed, "It's not a big deal. He can do whatever he wants."

"But he told me—"

"Wait," Fabien says, catching on, "Ewan's up there doing what with who?"

Before Phia can go on a passionate tirade, you exhale loudly, "Look, you guys. I just want to go home. I'll say bye to everyone and get out of here."

Fabien puts his drink down somewhere. "I'll go with you," he offers, without giving it much thought. "Since Ewan's occupied, and we hate him now apparently—"

Your brows raise, while Phia merely gives a thumbs up.

"—someone needs to see you home safe."

You smile gratefully. "You sure, Fabs? I don't want you to miss out on the rest of the party."

"Ah, don't worry about it," he smirks, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders as you head to the main room. "Knowing Tom, there'll be another one of these things next week."

Ewan stumbles down the stairs, his steps unsteady from the weight of too many drinks. But there's something else, a deeper unease twisting in his gut that he can't quite shake.

He needs you to make it all better, but where are you?

When he finds Phia pouring herself a glass of water in the kitchen, he asks for one too.

But she icily responds, "Pour yourself one."

"What?" He asks, but he doesn't dwell on it. "Do you know where—"

"She left," Phia shrugs, and Ewan wonders why she said that smugly, "not too long ago."

"What do you mean she left?" Ewan straightens, growing alert despite the haze of the alcohol.

"She was tired. Wanted to go home. She came upstairs to get you, but you seemed busy. So Fabien offered to accompany her, the sweetheart that he is."

The flood of information overwhelms him, but it's nothing compared to the hollow ache of your absence.

"I... I wasn't busy..."

"We heard you, Ewan," Phia says, disappointed. She watches the realisation dawn on his face for a full minute. The dread. The self-loathing. "I mean, it's none of my business. But maybe wipe that lipstick off your neck. It's bloody gross."

[ophelieverse]

“i was abed” yeah sure😒