#N Sanity Beach
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radiantrookie · 2 months ago
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N. Sanity Beach: Team Bandicoot's Home (And Ripper Roo's)
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thedestinysunknown · 2 years ago
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Crash Bandicoot - N. Sanity Beach:
“Let’s revisit the world of our favorite orange furball, Crash Bandicoot. This is considered one of the hardest games in the series, so let’s find out why. We start out with a simple but good level to start. It’s a perfect start for any beginners, so you can get used to Crash’s...awkward movement.”
PS: the gameplay used for this gifset is not mine. The original video belongs to the user: Thegamerwalkthroughs, on Youtube.
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etherical-angel · 1 year ago
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oh yea in 3 days its gonna be my 1 month anniversary of being in japan???? it literally has barely felt like a weak wtf(<- going thru the horrors)
#def forming some..new alters from this lol#been journalling abt my delusions most of the time just to stay sane(which is what i'd do at home anyway)#i always say shit like 'yea i cant talk to my alters' which im coming to terms with not entirely being true#its just not as much as it used to be. but the more isolated i am the more i notice it#(i was supperrrrr isolated during that og period which is why it got the way it did)#but i think it just comes with getting used to it. its more mixed n blurry when 2 alters are fronting so it makes it less distinct#but there is dialog happening. whether it just be back and forth or a helper coming in to get me thru the night.#'me' being whoevers fronting obv#like. i am in a small room that only fits a bed n a small desk n fridge. the air conditioner kills me stimulation wise. but i need it on.#outside its 29 degrees(hot) at NIGHT but i fight thru it just so i can go on my nightly sanity swings. i cant see the stars.#theres been a cold going around for weeks and i cant do anything about it.#at least the anticipation anxiety for my potential apartment has died down a bit..not entirely but its easier now#idk. even tho i know i'll probably only get the apartment for like 4 months(IF i get it) i have to tell myself its for my benifit#its not a fix all forever home. its a place to finally chill for a bit. to go to the beach. to go on hikes in the forest.#to have a bigger enclosure all to myself#godddd i need to buy a water filter i hate having to go BUY WATER everyday(<- doesnt trust the tap water. per usual.)
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29121996 · 7 months ago
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lewisvinga · 9 months ago
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forza madrid | carlos sainz x fem! bellingham! reader
summary;, when posting about being a ferrari fan gets y/n bellingham invited to a grand prix where she meets carlos who is shocked by her last name.
fc; tyla
warnings; cursing
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1
notes; requested ! omg i love this sm, real madrid and f1 , ahhhhh, esp carlos and judeeee! and i decided to do a race instead bc of the spanish gp n stuff yk
masterlist !
ynbellingham uploaded to their story !
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[caption 1; what i do while getting ready before someone’s… match, forza ferrari ! scuderiaferrari] [caption 2; i know you scored a golazo but put a damn shirt on judebellingham…..]
judebellingham replied to your story !
judebellingham but if i was one of your ferrari boys, you wouldn’t be complaining 🙄🙄🙄🙄
ynbellingham shut the fuck up you will never be carlos sainz.
judebellingham WOMP WOMP i’ll meet him before u #madridprivilege 🤪
ynbellingham yeah OKAY SURE we’ll see
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liked by judebellingham, carlossainz55, and others !
ynbellingham: tysm scuderiaferrari for giving me the opportunity to go to the spanish grand prix! 🫶 it’s a dream come true to see a race in person and meet the amazing ferrari drivers 🥹 forza ferrari❤️
tagged; scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc
scuderiaferrari: we loved having the coolest bellingham in our garage !
ynbellingham: YOU HEAR THAT judebellingham jobebellingham ?
jobebellingham: u have admin at gun point stfu
scuderiaferrari: we ❤️ y/n too much sorry😅
judebellingham: so that’s why you didn’t come to your dear little brothers match this sunday 😒😒
ynbellingham: u scored womp womp, ferrari is cooler
judebellingham: wow…. WOWW… ok i see how it is
camavinga: that’s how it always is with you two🙄
username: the bellinghams are all fine asf what the fuck
username: Y/NNNN😍😍
username: omg carlos and charles 😣
vinijr: wow you didn’t take me🙄
ynbellingham: u had goals to score, vinicius.
username: the way she automatically got close w the squad bc of jude and how pretty she is is so funny
charles_leclerc: it was fun to have you visit ! liked by ynbellingham !
carlossainz55: wait, you’re a bellingham? like jude bellingham’s sister??? and no one told me?
ynbellingham: yes unfortunately i’m related to the tap in merchant
judebellingham: FUCK OFF how’d u meet an f1 driver before me
carlossainz55: ferrari admin said she’s the coolest 🥸
judebellingham: carlos sainz….. as a madridista ur supposed to like me more
ynbellingham: go away, pude pellingham
judebellingham: it was one penalty..
username: let carlos shoot his shot w her damn jude liked by carlossainz55 and ynbellingham !
ynbellingham uploaded to their story !
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[caption 1; ❤️] [caption 2; red at the beach bc ferrari double podium today 😁]
carlossainz55 replied to your story !
carlossainz55 liking spain ?
ynbellingham is the carlos sainz of ferrari liking and replying to my stories ???🤭🤭🤭 give me a second to fangirl
ynbellingham but yes lol, i’ve been staying w my brother and it’s amazing, i prefer madrid though, i’😁
carlossainz55 madrid’s the best part of spain
ynbellingham says the madrid native
carlossainz55 and why do you prefer madrid ?
ynbellingham touché
ynbellingham my brother plays for real madrid and he’s bugging me to tell u he says hi🙄
carlossainz55 tell him i said hi and thank you for saving us 😁 he’s been amazing it’s crazy! the amount of times he has saved me from going crazy with his goals😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨
ynbellingham literally how is my brother saving my sanity when he’s been making me lose it since the day he was born 😀😀
carlossainz55 quick question, have you been to best parts of madrid ?🤨
ynbellingham i go wherever jude goes who goes wherever cama, tchou, rodry, and vini go 😄
carlossainz55 noooo as a madrid native, i know the absolute best parts😌😌
carlossainz55 i’m going to madrid tonight for a few days
ynbellingham and you want to see me🧐
carlossainz55 can you blame me? you are the best bellingham
ynbellingham why thank u carlos
ynbellingham luckily for you, i’m free all week
carlossainz55 q bueno [excellent]
carlossainz55 i’ll see you again soon 😉 liked by ynbellingham !
ynbellingham uploaded to their story !
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[caption 1; mornings in madrid ☀️] [caption 2; when bellingol buys u a dress to impress a man 🤎 thank u stupid judebellingham] [caption 3; ‘i’ll show you the best of madrid’…. makes us pasta… 😀😀 ( there were no open spots at the restaurant we were going to)]
judebellingham replied to your story !
judebellingham gross get a room
judebellingham i take it back, DONT GET A ROOM
ynbellingham ur a cock blocker btw
judebellingham Y/N????
carlossainz55 replied to your story !
story one
carlossainz55 hermosa 😍 [beautiful] liked by ynbellingham !
story two
carlossainz55 he has good taste 😉 liked by ynbellingham !
story three
carlossainz55 you liked my pasta !
ynbellingham it was delicious but i was looking forward to getting the best paella 😞
carlossainz55 are you busy tonight ?
ynbellingham are you asking me out 🧐
carlossainz55 you up for date 2 ?😁
ynbellingham give me the time and place 😌
carlossainz55 oh no, i’m picking you up, hermosa. at 5, i’ll make reservations
carlossainz55 you’ll get that paella , trust me liked by yourusername !
carlossainz55 uploaded to his story !
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[caption 1; gracias judebellingham !🤍] [caption 2; ferrari red ❤️] [caption 3; the best paella in madrid!]
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liked by carlossainz55, judebellingham, and others !
ynbellingham: my month so far; post ucl game win club fit , ferrari garage , taste testing his own lobster carbonara, wearing the dress my stupid brother got me, my stupid brother w my other stupid brother, carlos after i jokingly told him i was gonna turn into a culer
tagged; carlossainz55, judebellingham, jobebellingham
carlossainz55: hermosa😍
yourusername: and you’re guapo 🤭 [handsome]
carlossainz55: it was a pretty good carbonara though
ynbellingham: it was truly amazing
username: OMG??
username: carlos and y/n???
username: carlos already down bad for y/n iktr
username: her body teaaaa😩
username: she got a white man on her rosterrrr
username: AND he feeds her pasta & lobster 😫😫
judebellingham: u jokingly said what now…
carlossainz55: my exact reaction !
ynbellingham: u both are such drama queens I WAS JOKING
carlossainz55: amor, we never joke about liking the rivals.
vinijr: WOW y/n WOWW
camavinga: no me?
ynbellingham: next photo dump promise edu😢
jobebellingham: i don’t live in madrid and don’t see u often so that means jude is automatically the stupid one
ynbellingham: so true bestie so true
judebellingham: reminder that i buy you things all the time. BOTH OF YOU😒
username: bellingham’s and the sainz??? what in the multiverse
username: when i forza ferrari and hala madrid too hard they become forza madrid liked by ynbellingham and carlossainz55!
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cry4mina · 1 month ago
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They won’t notice
(Mina x fem!reader)
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Word Count: 17.1k
Fluff/Smut
Summary: Meeting your best friends members was always a nerve wracking though, but after the beach day you had with them...one in particular clings a little more than anticipated.
TW: Fluffy, smut, drinking, food, sex, hickeys, light choking, public teasing/sex, bruising, oral, fingering etc etc.
A/N: Per the vote that happened on my blog's 6 month anniversary, this was born. Please excuse the spacing! It was too long for me to separate it the way I prefer. I know it was supposed to just be smut but I'm in my fluffy era, I fear. Thank you to @ghostykapi for helping me put the plot together, this fic would NOT have happened without that precious human so the biggest shout out to her mwa mwa 🖤
Also @myouicieloz and @psylocke142 for helping me keep my sanity and organize my brain for this fic! I appreciate all of you so so so much! <3
Thank you to everyone who voted and who has stuck around to see what comes next! It's appreciated! Have a lovely Sunday and please, get yourself a sweet treat today! <3<3
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“I really don’t think you should be so worried, Y/n. They’re going to love you!” Dahyun spoke reassuringly from the drivers seat as she masterfully parallel parked.
“They’re just so important to you and I want to make sure it goes well so I can see you more!” Expressed with love, concern and nervousness.
Being best friends with Dahyun since kindergarten, you were siblings at this point. Always calling each other with random life updates or just to sit in the comfort of each other’s silence.
Since her trainee days, you didn’t really get to hang out as frequently as you both liked, always missing each other with your schedules and free time so when you both were off today, she excitedly invited you to the beach with her and the rest of Twice.
Not having met them before, and being a fan of the music of course, you were very nervous to make a good impression on them - even with Dahyun reassuring you that they’d love you, you couldn’t help but stress.
“Alright, let’s go!” Leaning to grab her stuff out of the back seat and shoving your shoulder a little.
“It’s going to be fine, I swear. I talk about you enough, they already love you!”
Helping her gather the chairs and cooler, you make your way to the stair case leading to the shore and walk down the wooden steps to the sand that sunk slightly with every step taken.
Sun beaming down on you as you heard a familiar voice shout to you.
“Over here!”
Glancing over, you see an excited Jihyo waving her arms above her head next to a large circular set up of umbrellas and towels, the rest of Twice sitting around each other in the shade, chatting and giggling how you would expect.
Holy shit.
That’s Twice.
AND that’s Park Jihyo.
The leader of Twice.
Flagging YOU and Dahyun down.
Stopping in your tracks, you look over to Dahyun, she smiles and ushers you in front of her.
Walking to the group of girls felt like it took years. The anxiety of not only meeting your best friend’s members but Twice was so nerve-wracking, having followed them on their journey to fame in support of Dahyun and just pure enjoyment of the music.
“Hey guys! Wait…where’s Jeongyeon, Nayeon, and Mina?” Dahyun asking, plopping the stuff down in the sand next to Jihyo.
Jihyo in a black bikini, smiles at you and waves before answering the question.
“Nayeon got too drunk so Mina drove them back to the hotel. Jeongyeon is going to stay with her to make sure she drinks water and doesn't leave the room. You know how she gets.” Giggling about the fact that Nayeon was always a little hard to handle when drunk.
“Everyone! This is Y/n!” Dahyun shouted at the girls, they all gathered around to say hello and meet you.
Sana was in a lavender two piece that fit her perfectly, she was such a goddess in person, it was hard not to be flustered.
Momo opted for a royal blue one piece with her hair tied up in a bun, chaeyoung was also in a black bikini similar to Jihyo’s but with a white see through cover over it, and Tzuyu was wearing a sun dress - seemingly not too keen on swimming.
Offering a “finally!”, “we’ve heard so much about you!”, and “it’s nice to put a face to the name!” With hugs and hand shakes.
Sana offered you a drink, a bottle of soju.
“Dahyun told me that Mango was your favorite flavor so I grabbed you a few of these!” smiling as she handed you the chilled bottle from the cooler she brought with her.
“Thank you so much! That’s so sweet!”
Looking down at the bottle, you can’t help but think you were worried for nothing. They’re so welcoming and lovely, hope and warmth replaced the nervousness that once was.
Everyone made small talk while you and Dahyun were setting up the chairs you brought and the extra umbrella to keep the sun off everyone.
Sitting down next to Dahyun and taking a swig of the soju, you finally relax a little. Listening to them discuss the tour and showing you pictures, they ask you about your work and listening very attentively with every answer to their questions.
“So what do you do for work? Dahyun mentioned something with designing?” Momo chimed as she grabbed a bottle of Soju out of the cooler, looking at it and seeing it was melon flavor, making a face and shuffling around the ice for another.
“I’m a concept designer for Lego, actually.”
Always being proud of your job, you loved to brag about it. Having a creative and well paying job was something that you never thought could be possible unless you were an idol but you genuinely enjoyed the process of creating scenes to build and being able to bring them to life with mere plastic blocks.
“Wait…you’re what? No way!” Momo and Sana look at each other and giggle, you hear Sana whisper “Oh she’s going to love you.” but before you could ask what she was talking about, Chaeyoung jumped in and asked about the sets you had designed.
“You know those floral ones? Like the bonsai trees, the potted plants, and the bouquets?”
“No way…”
“Mhm…and those little racecars too, I had a part in those.”
Everyone seems to be side eyeing each other, no one fills you in on what is happening, they just keep looking around at each other until Jihyo finally breaks the silence with a cheers.
“To meeting new family” raising her glass to you and sipping, everyone following the motions.
Curious statement but cheers to that! Being accepted by them so quickly felt like a fever dream, unexpected but lovely.
Car keys jingle behind, a shadow of a woman with long dark wavy hair and her arms crossed looms over you when Dahyun stands and offers a hug to the figure.
“Mina, this is Y/n!”
Oh shit. Myoui Mina…your ult bias.
Dahyun knows the crush you have on Mina, a little worried that she might’ve said something to her, your mind spirals for a moment, wondering if Mina knows…
Act normal, this is fine.
“Uhm, Hi M-Mina. It’s nice to meet you.” Offering a hand to shake, she reaches for it and smiles at you softly, leaning forward and bowing her head slightly as a sign of respect,
How your legs didn’t turn to pure jelly, you have no idea. She was elegant and graceful and you were gay panicking way too hard to even realize how long you held her hand for.
Seems like she doesn’t even notice, she’s looking in your eyes and seemingly nervous as well, but she’s known to be shy so it’s probably just that, right?
“Hey Mina!” Chaeyoung shouts from her chair, waving obnoxiously to her bestfriend and turning to face her.
“Y/n is a concept designer for Lego’s!” Momo elbows Chae in the ribs playfully, shushing her and whispering to her.
“What? No way!” looking over at Chae to see her excitedly beaming back, Momo is shaking her head in her hands like Chaeyoung did something wrong… this confuses you for a split second.
“That’s so cool, I love Legos!” Mina exclaims, the excitement in her eyes is just too adorable to even think about anything else.
“She designed the plants and the little cars you like to build.” Sana shouts from behind Momo, who actively swing her arm back to try and shut her up, Sana just giggles and high fives Chaeyoung.
Tzuyu and Jihyo are just laughing but there’s a silent tension building in your ribcage, a little ache that turns into a fascination…why was Momo trying to stop them from telling her your line of work? And why were Tzuyu and Jihyo laughing?
“I love those! They’re so complicated for how small they are. I just built that orange one with Jeongyeon the other day. They’re so much fun!” shying away from you, she seems to take a step back from you.
Mina has always been known as shy, Dahyun says she has her moments but is also very playful and silly. That intrigued you, wanting to see that side of the soft spoken and regal Mina.
“They always send me sample builds for the ones I design and sometimes the bigger sets that are in testing so next time I’ll save them for you, if you want.” a nervous offer, but a meaningful one.
“Really? That would be amazing!” She’s radiating pure excitement now, unable to help but admire the happiness beaming from her.
Mina sat next to you all day, discussing your line of work and some builds you were working on, even though they were confidential. She swore to secrecy before you told her about them, which you thought was cute.
Having conversations with the other members, Mina never left your side. Your Twice bias taking a liking to you wasn’t something that you expected. She was always close by, even with everyone pulling you and her in different directions.
When everyone decided it was time to go in the ocean, she made sure to swim with you and playfully splash you.
This surprised you, as you weren’t expecting to see the playful side Dahyun spoke of so quickly, but you were grateful she felt comfortable enough to show it so soon.
By the end of the day you had exchanged numbers with the promise of hanging out soon, you hoped that to be true. Though you heard from other members that she wasn’t the best at texting back, you hoped that maybe you’d hear from her again.
The car ride home was relatively quiet, both you and Dahyun exhausted from the sun beaming down on you all day. The day was lovely, so happy that you decided to come along- even with it being so nerve wracking.
“So, did you have fun?” Dahyun nudging you with her elbow and making her eyebrows dance because she already knew the answer to your question.
“I did, I did.” giggling back to her.
“So what did you think of everyone?”
“Everyone was so nice! They’re all so sweet and welcoming, I’m really happy I got the chance to meet almost everyone and hang out for a while.” smiling at the new found friendship.
“Was everyone what you were expecting?” side eyeing you from the driver’s seat like she already knew the answer to this question too.
“I mean…for the most part, yes.” knowing what she was really asking, you were waiting for her to ask you flat out ask, until them you would dance around the question.
“Seems like you and Mina got to know each other.” Dahyun has the brightest smile on her face, poking you to see what information she could get out of you.
“Yes, that was really nice.” softly spoken back to her, face blushed completely as she knew about your celebrity crush on Mina.
“Soooooo…did you get her number?”
“Dubu!” shouted in shock at her while she cackles at you, unable to help yourself, you smack her shoulder playfully.
“What?! I’m just asking you a question!” flipping the blinker and snickering to herself as she pulls into your apartment building.
“Are you staying with me tonight?” changing the subject to avoid answering the question.
“Yes! Is that still okay?”
“It’s always okay. That’s why you have the spare key, duh!” getting out of the car and grabbing your stuff.
“Sooo…did you get her number or m…?”
You put your had up, halting her sentence, and making a face at her.
“I’m not talking to you about this!”
“Why not?! I can be your wingman! Come on!” Dahyun protests against your silence in the matter.
“Oh, shit, Dubu I left my phone in your car but my hands are full. Can you go grab it for me?”
“Sure” Dahyun goes to the car and snags your phone off the front seat, noticing a notification on the locks screen, she smiles widely.
“SO YOU DID GET HER NUMBER” Dahyun is jumping for joy at this revelation.
“Oh my goodness, I can see it now…The wedding, the pictures…ugh you guys are going to be so cute!” skipping to the elevator and holding it open for you before hitting the button for the top floor.
“Kim Dahyun! If you don’t shut your mouth!”
You don’t even know if Mina is into you, not wanting to be excited about something that might not happen, you just take it at face value.
“What!? I’m just saying, Y/n! Mina barely texts any of the members back so the fact that you have 2 notifications for her here is actually insane.” her eyes more serious now, her tone a little more pointed but it’s hard to believe.
The elevator dings and you step out, walking to your front door and punching the code in before pushing it open and placing everything down inside. Sand trails through your kitchen when you head to your room, Dahyun follows.
“What if she just wants the legos? I mean I’m happy to give them to her but her texting me doesn’t mean she likes me like that!” huffing at playing devils advocate.
Wanting to believe her, you just weren’t sure. The interactions you had with Mina were relatively surface level and it’s not that uncommon to have those conversations with anyone. You didn’t want to assume they meant more then they actually did.
“Trust me, Mina doesn’t talk to strangers like that. Not that you’re a stranger, I’ve told them so much about you already. But like…she just met you and clung to you all day…that’s a big deal…she doesn’t do that at all.” Dahyun has taken her stance. The stance of when she’s trying to prove a point and she knows she’s right.
You’re too stubborn to believe her.
“I guess we will see in time.” shrugging your shoulders and turning on your shower so you can rinse the beach off your skin.
“Dude, I’m telling you! She likes you!” Dahyun is practically yelling now, waving her hands around her head in frustration and huffing as she stops out of the room.
Giggling at her theatrics, you are curious if what she’s saying is true. Just as the thought passes by. your phone goes off again and Dahyun bolts back into the room.
“IF THAT’S A TEXT FROM MINA, THEN SHE ABSOLUTELY LIKES YOU BECAUSE A TRIPLE TEXT?? SHE WOULD NEVER DREAM OF IT.” screaming with such force it startles you.
Looking down at your phone, it scans your face and you look at the banner messages.
Mina Myoui: It was really nice to meet you today! I hope you join us for more activities in the future. (6:27pm)
Mina Myoui: I would love to hang out sometime, would you want to build legos together or something? (6:38pm)
Mina Myoui: Is that too much? Sorry. (7:02pm)
“Oh? It’s Mina…she wants to hang out” you’re in a bit of shock to see her name pop up in your phone, her asking you to hang out and then asking you if it’s too much?
No way. You wished it wasn’t weird to ask her to come over right now, actually.
“SHE FREAKIN’ LIKES YOU!” Dahyun goes on her yelling rant about how Mina is never like this and how she wouldn’t even text her best friend that many times in a row and blah blah blah.
Sitting there and starring at the screen, you see the typing bubble pop up and disappear quickly. Is she staring at her phone for a response?
You: It was so nice meeting you today too! I would love to build legos with you. Just let me know when you’re free. Not too much at all :) I was hoping you’d ask! (7:05pm)
Throwing your phone on the bed, you swiftly turn around to take your shower. You can hear Dahyun screaming from the living room in absolute victory, which makes you laugh.
Rinsing the sand off your legs, you remember the conversations you had with Mina about her lego build collection and her other hobbies. She talked about her love for video games a lot, saying that she’s got a few she plays every day and some she played mostly on vacation.
Mentioning minecraft survival and how she enjoys how puzzle-like it feels to be able to gather the materials and keep your character safe when the little zombies are out and about.
Mina also mentioned wanting to write more songs but being nervous about the vulnerability of putting her thoughts into lyrics. Encouraging her to take that step and be more vulnerable, you reminded her that so many people admire her.
“You should write more if you want to! I know that a lot of people really love the song you did for the Misamo debut, I think it would be really awesome for you to do more if that was something you wanted.” nodding your head at her.
She blushed at that, her cheeks reddened as she dipped her hair down trying to hide her face.
How adorable she is when she talks about things she’s passionate about.
Finally done with your shower, you dry off to find that Dahyun had used the guest bathroom to do the same. Her hair wrapped in a towel, in comfy clothes, and scrolling through her phone waiting for you.
Flipping on a random show, you sit on the couch with Dahyun and proceed to scroll through your phone when you get another text from Mina.
Mina Myoui: I think I’m free sometime next week if you want to get together! (7:36pm)
You: Yeah, I would like that! I have a few test sets of lego’s at the house we could build together if you want! (7:37pm)
Mina Myoui: I would love that (7:39pm)
“Who are you texting? With that huge smile on your face?! IT’S MINA ISN’T IT?!” Dahyun seemed to be more excited about this than you were, and that was saying a lot considering you were literally making plans to hang out with your Ult bias.
“Dahyun! Let me exist! Jeez!” huffed at her, all she did was smile and text someone ferociously on her phone before completely changing the subject and carrying on your night like normal.
—6 months later—
Mina ended up cancelling on you because of a last minute schedule, but still texted you every day just to talk. You even FaceTimed and talked on the phone often, just getting to know each other and updating each other on the day to day.
Zipping your suitcase closed, you sigh.
Deciding that you would bring a tote with a couple tester sets of legos with you to give to the girls who saw her the most, that way when she did have a moment, she could relax with them.
“You ready?” Dahyun shouted from the front door as you picked out a few sets for Mina…Dahyun wouldn’t do it because she wanted you to do it yourself, you planned to pass them along to Chae or Momo.
“Yeah, I’m ready.” grabbing your bags and heading for the door.
“Why do you sound so sad? We are going on a winter adventure to the mountains!” lifting her arms to the sky to try and get you to laugh, it doesn’t work.
“Sorry, Dubu. I was just really hoping Mina would come too. We talk so often but I haven’t seen her since the beach day. I was just really looking forward to spending time with her is all.” sighing as you hoisted your suitcase into the car, grabbing a blanket you brought for the ride and curling up in the passenger seat.
“It’s okay, Y/nnie. I’m sure we will have fun either way.” there’s a smirk on her face, something is off but you are too distracted by your own thoughts to even want to ask.
The soft blanket you brought with you brings you some sort of comfort, keeping you warm even in the sadness.
You decide to text Mina.
You: Hey! I hope your schedules go well today! Sad you can’t make it to the vacation :/ (10:04am)
You: I am bringing some of those builds with me for the girlies to bring to you later though! I hope you enjoy them when you can :) (10:05am)
Unable to stop yourself from being disappointed, you put your phone in your lap and watch the scenes out the window pass you by.
The city quickly turned into country side, a few farms here and there, some cows you are sure to point out to Dahyun who has been surprisingly quiet the last 45 minutes.
Sighing at the lack of response, you really really wished Mina was coming to this outing. Always being bad at hiding your emotions, you knew try to hide them from Dahyun by just staring out the window.
Your phone pinging breaks your state of dissociation.
Mina Myoui: That is so sweet of you! I’ll hold onto them so we can build them together. :) (10:55am)
Mina Myoui: I wish I was coming too. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, but I promise I’ll see you so soon. These unexpected schedules they keep booking me for are really kicking my ass lol (10:56am)
You: I can imagine! Please get some rest when you can! You work hard and should make sure to take care of yourself. (10:57am)
Mina Myoui: Trust me, I’ll get some good rest this week ;) (10:59am)
This week? Like when we are in the mountains with most of the girls?
You: Please do! You’ve definitely earned it with how busy you are! (11:01am)
A sigh leaves your lips, wishing she wasn’t so busy so you could spend time with her.
Eyes drifting back to out the window, you try to muster up the courage to be excited about hanging out with Sana, Chaeyoung, Momo, Nayeon and Jihyo.
Tzuyu was with her family this week, Jeongyeon was overseeing the animal shelter while the owner was on vacation and Mina was…busy.
Pushing positivity into you brain, you list off the things that you could look forward too.
Relaxing.
Meeting Nayeon.
Hot tub and sauna in a massive rented house in the mountains.
Snow.
Hanging out with the girls again.
“Everyone is really excited to see you again, you know.” Dahyun chimes in, disrupting your thoughts.
“Are they? They’re so sweet.” Monotone in your reply, unintentional, but present.
“Come on, Y/n. I know you wanted to see Mina but there will be other times.” Reaching out to rub your shoulder in an act of comfort.
“I know, I know. We just have been texting since the beach trip and I was looking forward to hanging out with her in person again. You guys are always so busy, I thought we could…” letting the sentence end before finishing it.
“I know but trust me, we’ve got a lot of fun things planned!” Dahyun is suddenly very giddy, bouncing in her seat in excitement.
You don’t match the energy.
The countryside grows into mountains, slowly unfolding into a snow filled road lined with trees that winds around the peak you’d be staying at for the next few days.
Admittedly the scenery was beautiful, the trees sprinkled with white flakes of ice, the deep greens and browns that fill the spots the reflective chill couldn’t.
For the rest of the ride, you were trapped in your thoughts. Holding onto the text exchange from Mina about being able to see each other soon.
Your little crush developed into full blown liking her and you dreamed of the comfort you’d feel when you see her again.
Pulling up to the house, you were immediately captivated by how lavish it looked, even from the outside.
Big stone pillars around the front door, large windows that allowed you to see inside to find marble flooring, massive fancy chandeliers, and the girls laughing and playing in the living room.
Sana points to the driveway, seeing you and Dahyun getting out of the car. Watching as they all stand and run to another part of the house.
The front door flings open and everyone runs out in the snow to greet you with hugs and help you with your bags.
Nayeon walks right up to you and pulls you in for a hug.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Y/n! So sorry about last time. “ bowing her head in a small moment of shame.
“It’s totally okay. I’ve had my fair share of days like that.” smiling at her and offering some reassurance that there was no judgement there.
Nayeon grins back at you, pulling you in for a hug as if you had always known each other. There was a warmth about her that made you feel calm, less worried. Almost like a best friend that you hadn’t seen in years hugging you again.
Sana and Chae see this, scrunching their noses and looking at each other with confusion. Brushing this off, you hug them and say it’s good to see them again and you’re looking forward to spening more time together.
Jihyo walks up, slaps you on the back playfully and puts her arms out for you, waiting for you to do the same. Giggling at her and returning the hug, you squeeze her tight.
“It’s good to see you again, Hyo.”
“Right back at you, Y/n” warmly rubbing the spot she just smacked.
Jihyo and you had developed a solid friendship after the beach day. She would come over and have dinner with you, just hang out and watch movies or you’d go to hers and do the same.
There was a sense of family between you and everyone, they had accepted and welcomed you even before you had actually met them at the beach that day.
Knowing that you and Dahyun had grown up together probably helped that along, but the kindness they had always shown you was full of genuine love and safety.
Bringing the bags into the house, you couldn’t help but take in the rest of the luxury it was dripping in.
The marble counter tops matching the floors, the conversation pit in the den behind a beige L shaped couch with a huge TV hanging on the wall, the fireplace that was fancy enough to be considered a work of art, and the fact that it had 10 bedrooms with bathrooms attached was just mind blowing.
“We hung nameplates on the doors for both of your rooms, if you want to go see! But we’ve just been hanging out in the living room and just talking.” Jihyo says, making her way back to what you would assume is the seat she was in before you arrived.
“Yes, I’m going to go put my stuff down and I’ll be right back.” making your way to the staircase and taking the first few steps.
You see Dahyun and Jihyo side eye each other out of your peripherals and brush it off, you knew that your energy was noticeably off but you wouldn’t admit why.
You’re sure that Dahyun was already filling the group in on why you weren’t exactly yourself today.
Finally reaching the top of the stairs, you hang a left into the hallway and see hand painted signs hanging on the doors. All the members ones were painting in their representative colors, yours was Mint green…cute joke.
Looking around you, seeing that there was another Mint green sign…for Mina…all the members had rooms assigned to them even if they weren’t here? Tzuyu and Jeongyeon had ones also. It’s cute that they always include everyone, it makes you smile.
Stepping inside the room, you see a MASSIVE bed with a fire place across the room from it. A big tv mounted on the wall, the deep red tones of the room really provide a coziness that matches what the fireplace brings. Thinking about sleeping in here tonight makes you yawn at how comfortable you already feel.
Checking your phone to see nothing from Mina, you sigh again. Tossing it on the bed and trying to figure out how you’re going to shake this sadness you have about not being here this weekend. Placing your bags down, you opt to check out the bathroom, walking over and flicking the light switch on - it’s absolutely lavish.
The bathtub is basically its own hot tub, jets and everything. The shower is huge and natural, rocks inside and fake plants. Gasping in shock at how immaculate this bathroom was, you look up at the ceiling and notice that there’s a long spout on the ceiling behind the shower glass that just looks like a disc drive.
Seeing the buttons on the wall, you press one out of curiosity.
A waterfall starts.
A waterfall shower??? In the mountains?? Luxury is crazy but you were so excited to shower tomorrow morning.
A knock at the door startles you, pressing the button again to stop the shower, you rush over to the door to your room and open it to find Momo smiling at you.
“Mind if I come in?"
“Sure!” swinging the door open, she lays down on her stomach on the bed and watches you get settled.
“Hey, Y/n. Can we talk for a minute?” there’s some concern in her voice.
Swinging around to face her so she knows you’re present, you sit next to her and wait for her to say what she has made clear she wants to.
“You seem really nice and I enjoyed getting to know you at the beach that day. It’s seems that you will be around more, and I just want to make sure that you know how protective we are of each other…do you get what I’m saying?” there’s an inflection in her tone that you can’t shake, what did she mean by that?
“Uhm…truthfully, I don’t have malicious intentions at all. All of you mean so much to Dahyun and she’s part of my family at this point. I wouldn’t dream of harming any of you in anyway. If anything, I’m nervous about you guys not really liking me or me being like weird or something” reassurance and vulnerability gifted to Hirai Momo.
“Why would we think you’re weird?” laughing at this, she seems to have eased up in the seriousness of her last statement.
“To be honest, I’m actually a huge fan.”
“What?” giggled back.
“Yes! I’ve been following the group for years, not only out of support for Dahyun but because I just really enjoy the music too. So half the time I’m around you I’m like “Oh shit that’s fucking Hirai Momo, the dancing machine from Twice” but I know you’re a person so I obviously don’t want to be like weird about it” unable to help yourself, you laugh at what you’re saying.
She joins you, cackling with you.
“I need you to know we felt the same way! We were so nervous about meeting you because of how much you mean to Dahyun…we were worried about how we would come off to you.” offering the same vulnerability back to you.
“So we had the same thoughts, minus the “holy shit you’re twice” moment?”
“It seems that way.” smiling at you, soften up a bit at from the one on one interaction.
Momo gets up and heads for the door.
“I’ll give you some space to get settled. Come down when you’re ready! We made hot chocolate too so you’re welcome to that as well.” pulling the door open, Momo looks back to you before stepping out of the room.
“I can see what she sees in you.” disappearing before you have a moment to question what she had just said to you.
Who sees what in you?
An iced chill of worry shoots through you, matching the show that laces the ground outside the window…trying not to worry about it, you slip on something more comfortable and head downstairs to make small talk with the rest of the girls.
When they see you coming, they hush each other to be sure you didn’t hear what they were discussing. That also brings some anxiety with it but no matter, you’re here to have fun.
Letting go of the worry of what they were discussing, you just sink into the moment and jump into the conversation that Jihyo started about some of the things she was working on.
Momo brings you a mug of hot chocolate and sits next to you on the couch, the friendship being cultivated with these girls is something you would cherish- you could already tell that they were making space for you in their lives and that meant the world.
Dinner was around the corner, everyone was laying around and watching TV together in the living room while waiting for the delivery to arrive, you had ordered sushi an hour ago and expected it to take a while to get out here but all of you were waiting with anticipation for the delicious food that was about to arrive.
Checking your phone multiple times that evening to see if you had a response from Mina, but nothing…she must be really busy. That’s what you assume anyway…you wished she was here.
Jihyo’s phone went off, she smiled so widely, her cheeks could’ve fallen right off. Very excited about the sushi, I guess?
“It’s here!” jumping up and running out of sight to the door.
Looking up from your phone, everyone is side eyeing you and watching you closely. The confusion sets in, why are you being watched?
Slowly turning to make eye contact with Momo, she looks away in a panic. Sana does the same and Chae just smiles widely at you.
Uhm…this is really weird?
“Hey, Y/n! Would you mind helping me in the kitchen?” Jihyo yells from the front door, you can hear the plastic bags rustling against her arms.
“Yeah!” shouted back before you get up and walk through the kitchen door.
No one is here…?
A figure walks through the door that connects to the foyer, long dark wavy hair, a pale complexion and a big smile on her face…
“Hey, Y/n” the figure says while your eyes focus.
It’s Mina.
“Mina!” rushing over to her to give her a hug, the excitement consuming you. Heart racing and eye’s watering at the pure happiness felt with her around.
She giggles at how excited you are to see her, hugging you back just as tightly.
You realize that this is only the second time you’ve seen her in person and this might read as too much. Pulling back quickly, you offer a small apology.
“No, it’s okay. I missed you too.” placing her hand on your upper arm and sliding it down to your forearm.
Heart pounding out of your chest, you try to gain some form of calmness and look away but the blush got to your cheeks before you realized what was happening.
Mina giggles again, sliding her hand past your’s, brushing your fingers with hers on the way down before her hand is back at her side.
“I wanted to surprise you…” hesitantly leaves her mouth with hushed breath, that you weren’t expecting.
“You wanted to surprise me?”
“Well, yes. We’ve been talking so much and truthfully I-”
A crash through the kitchen doors startle both of you, Sana and Momo looking for something harder than hot chocolate to drink.
“Oh! Uhm, so sorry. We were looking for the liquor cabinet…” Sana offers as an excuse for what ruined the moment.
Momo is nodding her head, closing her eyes tightly in embarrassment it seems.
“It’s okay…Don’t worry.” Mina offers up to them as they scurry out of the kitchen.
Both of you sigh.
“I’m happy you surprised me.” smiling at her.
“Me too. And we have this whole week to hang out too!” excited leaves her lips.
She seems as eager to spend time with you as you do with her, it makes your insides warm and fluttery even if you were trying to not assume anything.
“MINA IS HERE!” Sana’s shouts can be heard in the kitchen, rumbling follows.
Muted foot steps can be heard scampering on the hardwood floors, followed by hushed giggling and whispering behind the wooden door, however the door doesn’t move.
They’re trying to hear what you are talking to Mina about.
Glancing over to Mina, you make eye contact - she knows better than you what they’re doing. A glimmer behind her eye catches your attention…for more reasons than one.
“Come with me” hushed breathless whisper leaves her perfectly pink lips, you try to process what she mouthed to you, completely lost in the beauty she radiated.
This was the playfulness Dahyun had always spoke of.
She tiptoed to the other door silently, turning around to see you still in place. She waves you over and you follow her actions of silently.
When you were close enough to her, she grabbed your wrist and snuck through the door.
Gasping unintentionally at her touch, she raises a hand to cover your mouth. Eye widened at the action, you can only look at her in shock.
Your blood runs cold but your heart bursts into flames, pounding at the touch of Mina for a few reasons.
One: because she is touching you.
Two: because her hand is covering your mouth and that always sparks something more lust driven from you, not that she would know that.
Mina leans into your ear and whispers, “…Shh until we scare them, okay?”
Nodding your head to let her know you understood the assignment, she looked into your eyes before she slowly removed her hand. Watching her as she looked at your lips and then back to your eyes.
Blush taking over your cheeks, yet again, you can’t help but smile and break the eye contact. Worrying that the tension was just you, you try to focus on being calm and quiet so you can scare the girls.
Mina looks at you for longer than expected before she sneaks around the corner, your wrist still in hand.
“I don’t hear anything!” Sana harshly whispers.
“Maybe they know we are trying to listen in?” Chae replied
Jihyo shushes them both.
Sneaking around the corner with Mina in the lead, you see everyone has their ears pressed up against the door, trying to listen to the ghosts in the kitchen.
Mina looks at you and represses a giggle, tightening her lips and trying to compose herself. The ache to kiss her builds in your stomach, how could someone be so elegant and so silly at the same time?
She steps out from being the wall, pulling you with her and sneaking behind the group, joining them as if she was always there.
“What are we doing?” Mina whispers to Nayeon, trying to see how far she can take this bit.
“We are waiting to hear if Mina tells Y/n that she likes her. Don’t you remember? We set up this surprise so we could push them together!” Nayeon whispers back to Mina unconsciously, not even realize the bomb that she just dropped.
Mina goes pale, frozen in the secret that was just exposed unwilling to look at you from the sheer panic that swept through her soul at Nayeon’s words back to her.
“I think Y/n knows now but I didn’t tell her.” Mina says loud enough for everyone to hear, startling everyone who was against the door.
They try to play it cool and nonchalant, but you and Mina had stood there too long to buy it.
“Wait so she kno-” Momo asks in confusion.
“Okaaaaay! Let’s not do that right now.” Mina waves her hands up in from of everyone to keep them from asking questions.
You just stood there and trying to process what Nayeon just said. Mina likes you? Like…likes you likes you?
“Dinner is ready so let’s go eat!” an attempt at damage control by Jihyo, it works for the most part.
“Wait…Mina, can we talk?” snagging her by the hand before she could follow the group into the den for sushi.
“Yes, of course.” stopping and turning around to look at you nervously while you spoke.
“You…like me?” shyly inquiring on if you heard that right from Nayeon.
“I…uh…yes.” her head is hanging, eyes at the ground so she doesn’t have to see your reaction. Toying with her fingers to keep calm in this conversation.
Not being used to seeing Mina in this light, you take the opportunity to be bold, placing a finger under her chin and lifting her face to meet yours.
She gasps at the action before going back to looking at your lips again, this time she makes eye contact but there’s something different about the way she’s looking at you.
Without even realizing it, you get closer to each other. Gravitating like magnets until your noses brush, startling you out of the haze but not allowing you to pull back.
Mina has an eagerness about her, being this close to her - you can see the hunger in her eyes. Tension palpable between the two of you, you can tell that she wants this just as bad as you do.
Noses brushing as you inch closer and closer, you can feel her breath on your lips and feel her hands creep around your waist only to pull you into her, finally locking your lips together.
A soft peck first, giving each other the time to process what just happened. You take a few seconds to reminisce in how soft and delicate her lips were, her touches feather light and conducting so much heat that you feel like you could explode.
“Was tha-” Cut off by you cupping her face and bringing her back to you.
Lips connecting again, this time deeper and more passionately. Her hands on your waist coasting up your sides and back before letting them drape over your shoulders.
Separating before it could turn into too much, you take a moment to feel every single drop of oxytocin that seeped into your veins. Gold laced sparks of sweetness send goosebumps across your skin in a wave of euphoria that couldn’t compare to anything you had ever experience.
“I like you too.” one last peck before you take her by the hand and lead her to the den for dinner she brought for everyone.
Once dinner is over, Sana and Momo went back to the kitchen to see if they could find the liquor cabinet with Jihyo’s help. Nayeon, Chae and Dahyun went upstairs to their respective rooms so change and get more comfortable.
You and Mina sit in the den, basking in the excitement of your confession of fondness for each other. It was all so new, but so comfortable. Existing in the same space together brought you a sense of peace you had never known, a calmness that was unexplainable other than being next to her.
“Did you actually bring those lego sets?” quietly inquired without looking at you.
“I did. I thought you’d want to build them in your downtime and I promised to give them to you so I wanted to make good on that promise.” looking over to her and offering her a smile.
“You’re cute.” Mina giggles, flushing red at the genuine care you showed her.
“Do you want to build a few while we are here? I did manage to get one of those cars I know you like building, it’s limited edition too.”
“What?! No way!” excitement now in her eyes as she finally looks at you. She must be nervous.
“Yes! I brought a few different ones, a couple of the plant ones I designed, the car, and then I got this new one that I thought you might like. It’s a minecraft one of the villages in the games…that one isn’t releasing until next year but I had a part in designing it so they sent me a tester.”
“A minecraft one?!” Mina looks like she’s about to fall over with anticipation.
“You remembered that I liked Minecraft?” Freezing in place while waiting for your answer.
“Yeah, it’s one of your favorites. Of course, I remember.”
She looks at you in a way that made your heart soar, the care and kindness displayed on her face and in her body language was enough to send you into overdrive. Willing to do anything to keep her looking at you like that, you scoot closer to her and she instinctively puts an arm around you.
“Soooooo do you want to build one tonight or do you want to wait for the morning?”
“We can do whatever you wa-”
Jihyo comes crashing through the door with a bottle of bourbon that was completely full, she shows it off like it’s a fine bottle of wine, not realize that she had just interrupted.
“Oh, yes! Such a fine bottle of bourbon Ms. Park! I’ll take two glasses please” teasingly at Jihyo.
Jihyo bows gracefully, Momo and Sana come back with glasses for everyone and Jihyo starts to pour some drinks. Momo stokes the fire and Sana takes a seat next to Mina. Nayeon, Dahyun and Chaeyoung come running down barreling down the stairs now in sweatpants, with blankets in hand.
Jihyo is passing out the glasses of bourbon to everyone, once you get your’s, you take a small sip and enjoy the warmth that fills your chest. It matches the warmth that Mina brought you, so a perfect pairing you’d say.
Watching everyone make faces at the flavor of the bourbon was hilarious, it seems that you and Jihyo are the only ones fond of it.
“Tomorrow, I’m going into town to get something that isn’t this.” Sana, still scrunching her nose from the burn, says very matter of factly.
“I’ll go with you!” Nayeon and Momo say in unison, looking at each other and laughing.
“I want to get some stuff to make breakfast sometime this week.” Momo seems to have a plan to treat us to a yummy meal.
“I’d just like to see what the stores look like around here.” Nayeon just wanting an adventure.
Jihyo gets up, shooting the rest of her glass and then makes her way to the stairs.
“I’m going to go and sit in the sauna for a while if anyone wants to join.”
“I have to see this sauna. This house is immaculate, honestly.” standing up and finishing your drink quickly.
Mina says nothing but stands with you, matching your movements of finishing your drink.
Momo and Sana get comfortable on the couch with Dahyun and Chaeyoung, Nayeon follows Jihyo up the stairs to the rooms. You and Mina are close behind, going to your individual rooms to change into bathing suits.
Once everyone is changed, you all head through the den and to the end of the hall where a light wood door leads you to the spa part of the house. There’s a sauna and a hot tub, as well as some showers. Fountains in the middle of the large room have you reeling.
This house must cost a fortune.
Mina clings to you the entire time, never leaving your side.
Everyone in their bathing suits, Jihyo in that same black one she wore, Nayeon in a bright blue one piece and Mina is wearing what seems to be a dark bikini but she’s got a see through cover that hides the true color of it. You are in an oversized t-shirt to cover up through the house, bathing suit underneath.
Jihyo is feeling that drinks as she’s getting loud and silly, being playful and flirty with everyone.
Getting ready to go into the sauna, you put your towel down next to Mina and remove your shirt, revealing your body to her but this time she’s sure to take in every inch of skin you showed her.
Eyes completely glued to you giving you butterflies and adding to the crush that you both had for each other.
Seeing her look at you the way she did, you smirk, waiting for her to bring eye contact back to you. You lean into her ear and whisper:
“You can see more later, if you want.” winking and running your hand down her arm to her hand, entwining your fingers before turning around to face the chaos that was unfolding, drunk Nayeon and Jihyo giggling at themselves.
Mina’s demeanor has changed, she’s got her hand that wasn’t holding yours on your lower back and this surprises you. You wouldn’t really take her to have the dominant vibe, but she sinks into it as if it’s always been there.
Jihyo takes one look at you in the bikini and whistles, obnoxiously checking you out.
“Damn, Y/n! Have you been working out? Look at you!” winking dramatically and nudging you with her elbow.
Playful and silly, constantly joking around with each other, Jihyo and you had become good friends but it was nothing more than friends. The thought never even crossed your mind.
Mina tenses at this, tilting her head to the side and questioning this interaction she just witnessed between the two of you.
Nayeon is in her own world on her phone when Jihyo drags her into the sauna, leaving you and Mina in the vast white tiled room with a hot tub and a fountain in the middle of the tension.
Mina says nothing, but strips off her cover - revealing her abs and strong arms. You practically drool over her, mouth agape, eyes trailing along the flow of her body and up to her smiling face.
Giggling at how your jaw drops for her, she is sure to get closer to you mimicking your movements from when you took your shirt off earlier.
“Want to see more later? Perhaps I’ll extend that invite back to you. Unless you have other plans with Jihyo…?” from sexy to snarky in a matter of second, you can’t believe the sneer on her face.
Is she jealous?
“I’m not drooling over Jihyo, am I? I didn’t kiss Jihyo earlier, did I?” thrown back at her so she can see that it’s just you and her in this.
No one else.
Mina smiles, cupping your face and kissing you intensely, like she was staking her claim to you. The creates quite a reaction from you, making you more than a little needy.
“Sauna or hot tub?” disconnecting her lips and bending forward and ushering her hand out, offering the decision to you in a manner that was the opposite energy of this kiss she just gave.
“Whatever you want” kicking it back to her, noticeably swooning at the way she took charge - despite the jealousy.
“The hot tub looks nice…” eyebrows rising, looking over to you to see if you approve.
“Hot tub it is.” Grabbing her hand and leading her to the water being disturbed by jets, stepping in and finding your spot in one of the corners.
She follows suit, sitting next to you and slouching into the warmth of the water. Sighing as her body unclenches, you look over at her…admiring the serenity that she emitted.
Her long dark hair hanging off the side to not get it wet, her eyes closed, and her face so peaceful…you leaned over to kiss her temple, unable to help yourself with how excited you were about your mutual feelings for each other.
Mina opens one eye, peaking at your through her bangs before letting out a giggle.
“What are you doing?” eyes still closed with the edges of her mouth curled into a smile as she relaxes further.
“Oh, nothing…just thinking about someone.” you know exactly what kind of curiosity this would peak in her…soon she’d be exactly where you wanted her to be.
“Who are you thinking about?” her brows furrow at the words, knowing she would get jealous again.
“Well you see, I’ve been talking to this girl for a long time…we texted and spoke on the phone a lot and I really like her.” Mina opens here eyes, sitting up to look at you with her elbow resting on the edge of the hot tub, placing her head on her hand.
“I found out today that she likes me too…and I’m really excited about it.” whispered through s light nervousness that rises through the heat of the jets.
“…are you referring to someone that’s in the room?” One of her eyebrows raises while the other furrows, the look of confusion on Mina’s face makes you chuckle at her.
The sound of your laugh makes her other brow descend, furrowing to match the other.
Is she really confused about this?
“Yes, the other person is in the room.” still giggling at her while playfully flicking water towards her.
“…like in this room? or just this part of the hou-”
“Mina…it’s you. Don’t overthink it.” leaning in and kissing her softly for reassurance.
Whipping your leg over her thighs, you straddle her. Deepening the kiss and letting out some of the passion that had built within you over the last few months of not seeing her but speaking with her daily.
Her arms wrap around your waist, coasting up your back lightly, sending a single shiver down your spine - clattering your bones with the warmth she offered to you.
Slipping a finger under the string that held your top up, the fabric tightens before threatening to fall. Pulling her arm towards you to remove that threat, you pull back from her and look her in the eyes.
The tension is so thick, even a knife couldn’t slice the pure desire that was trapped in the gaze you were locked in. Mina’s breath picks up when your hand raises to her cheek, caressing it softly before a single finger trails down to her chest between her breasts and down her stomach.
Reconnecting your lips, you drop your hand down to the wear the fabric starts on the bottoms of her swimsuit, tracing the edge of it gently just to tease her and see her reaction.
This sparks a fire in her belly and you can tell as her breath hitches and she slouches to allow you access to what you were asking permission silently for.
“Can I?” To vocalize asking even though the signs were clear.
“Please” hushed tone drenched in neediness before returning her mouth to yours, swiping her tongue at your lips and further deepening the passion playing out before the two of you.
Jihyo and Nayeon both cackle from the sauna, both you and Mina freeze.
Turning your head slowly to see if you had been caught.
The reflection of the glass shows you on top of Mina, who is bright red due to embarrassment of possibly being spotted in this compromising position.
Behind your imagine in the fogged up glass is Nayeon and Jihyo watching something on Nayeon’s phone, giggling at it and completely immersed in whatever video it was.
“They are laughing at something on Nayeon’s phone and they’re definitely drunk…they won’t notice us.” Bringing your mouth to her neck to plant a few kisses down to her collarbone.
Mina lets out a whine that would be burnt into your brain for the rest of your life. The pure need that reverberated off your eardrums caused an ache that words could not explain.
Half-lidded brown eyes look up at you, a hand slips up and around your neck to pull you closer so your lips meet once more.
The dominance in her rattles you in the best way possible, her hand around your throat to tug you closer to her sent a shot of hunger through you like nothing else ever could.
“Do it” between the soft romantic pecks she was carefully placed on your jaw, gently kissing up to your ear just to let out the faintest whimper inciting you to grind against her thigh roughly to get some stimulation.
Your hand back to where it was on her swim suit, slipping down underneath the fabric to slip a finger between her fold and gently rub her clit.
A gasp leaves her lips, the tone of yearning so present that it sent you into a spiral of just wanting to please her. A need so strong that you could not have any thoughts aside from how her face would contort when you finally gave her what she wanted.
The sound of the glass door to the sauna opening brings both of you back to the present, removing you from how wrapped up in each other you were.
“Can you believe that this is what Jeongyeon and Tzu are missing out on? This house is amazing… and the weath-…are we interrupting?” Nayeon’s eye widen, arm flying out to stop Jihyo in her tracks as they both look up to see you straddling Mina.
Bless how strong the jets were so they couldn’t see that your hand was between Mina’s legs.
“No, no, we were just uhm…talking…” trying regulate your breath so they wouldn’t catch on.
Too late.
“Sure, you were….” Jihyo giggles and takes Nayeon by the hand, dragging her out of the spa area of the house.
Looking down at Mina, her hands are covering her face in embarrassment, you lean down and kiss her forehead. She spreads her pointer and middle fingers and peaks out at you, giggling out of shock.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’re gone now…” removing your hand from where it was and taking her wrists to pry her hands off her face.
“Maybe we should pick this up later…somewhere a little more private?” she’s tugging at the strings that are keeping your bottoms from falling completely off. The smirk that is displayed on her face is one that reflects the ache inside you.
“Maybe we should.” sliding off her lap and into the seat you were in before. Mina smiles at you, giggling and trying to cover her stunning smile with her hands as she gets out of the hot tub, holding her hand out to you so you don’t slip on the steps.
“What a gentle woman you are.” it’s so hard to not blush in her presence.
“Only for you.” kissing each knuckle on the hand and leading you to where your stuff was so you could dry off and cover up before walking through the house again.
Stepping out into the den, you see all eyes are on you and Mina as you make your way to the stairs and walk up them. You’re too wrapped in each other to even care that everyone is watching the two of you walk, hand in hand, to your room.
Getting up to the doors with the name plates, you tug her into your room, closing the door behind you before pushing her up against it, gently.
“I’ve thought about this before…” Mina husks as she feels your lips against her neck.
“Have you?” between the love bites you’re placing down her neck and onto her chest.
“Mhm…but it went a little differently…” there’s an inflection in her voice that you don’t recognize, a pang of dominance that made you want to let her take the reigns…but not without a little pushing.
“Oh yeah? How did that go then?” not budging in the slightest, waiting for her to make her move.
“Like this.” Mina grabs your waist, guiding you to switch places with her.
“I take it you want to be in charge then?” tucking a lock of her lustrous wavy hair behind her ear, before wrapping your arms around her neck.
“I might” an evil grin shines back at you, unsure of what was behind the reflection of the supposedly dominant Mina.
She weaves her fingers between yours, inching closer and closer towards your face until her nose is grazing yours - foreheads pressed together and her breath on your lips.
Too focused on just breathing properly, you don’t even notice that she’s raised your hands above your head and pinned them to the door effortlessly. Being in the position with her was something you never thought possible, but here you were…being pushed against a door and trapped by Mina.
“You like this…don’t you? I bet you never expected me to be the top and I was going to let you live out your dominant fantasy but…you’re so irresistible. I can’t help but want to-”
Heavy knocks against your back startle both of you.
“Yes?” the annoyance in your tone is very much heard through the door.
“Hey…”
Mina rolls her eyes.
“Of course, it’s Jihyo.” whispered to you after removing her hands from pinning you, finding something else to touch.
“uhm…we are going to watch a scary movie if you want to join us…un- unless you’re busy…we didn’t want to start it without you” Jihyo sounds like she knows what she’s intruding on, trying to get through the sentence without stuttering it seemed.
“We’ll change and will be down in a moment!” Mina shouted through the door, probably to assert her place in your room and let Jihyo know what was happening between the two of you.
The stern tone she took sent a chill down your body, a tense sensation between your legs further developed when she ran a single finger up your thigh, dragging along the re-dampened bathing suit - gliding it along your slit while keeping her eyes locked with yours.
Blinking a few times and trying to keep collected while she teases you. One hand spends it’s time tracing the outline of your pussy over the bottoms of the swim suit and the other is making it’s journey up to your neck, gripping it and squeezing ever so slightly just to see what you’d do.
Shuttering under her touch, you heard an “Okay! See you soon then!” as Jihyo makes her way down the stairs.
Listening as the foot steps retreat, Mina pulls the strings keeping your bottoms up, releasing them to the floor, your large shirt still covering most of you.
“I’ve been wondering for so long…” Mina drops to her knees lifting your shirt to expose how wet you were for her.
“… what you taste like” sliding her tongue between your folds and taking a single long lick right up to your clit.
Wanting to collapse under the pleasure of her tongue on you, you moan. Not caring who or what heard you. This flipped a switch inside you, wanting to grab her hair and use her face in a very vile way, but the look in her eyes stops you.
“I look forward to tasting more of you later.” The sound of her smacking her lips fills the room, gazing at her as she stands up and removes the cover of her swim suit before walking to the bathroom.
Frozen in place, you try to take in what just happened and are trying to grasp why it’s not still happening.
“Uhm, Mina?” following her to the big luxurious bathroom that was connected to your room.
“Why…? Can we uhm….” stammering through what you had hoped would be full sentences.
“Why what, darling?” Turning around to face you before pulling the strings that kept her top up, revealing her chest to you.
The smack of the swim suit on your bathroom floor doesn’t even phase you as you gawk at how beautiful Mina is…even more so now that her breasts are exposed to you.
Never thinking the shy Mina you had observed and heard about would be so bold…you just stand there and try to process the fact that not only did Mina Myoui lick your pussy but she was standing there…topless…in front of you…
“Cat got your tongue?” stepping closer to you, lifting your shirt as a signal to take it off, you comply happily.
Pulling the strings from your top, she exposes you even further. Standing there naked in front of her, she licks her lips and that sends you reeling.
“God, you’re so stunning…” eyes tracing every part of your skin.
Feeling your slick drip down your thighs, you try to clench them to get some form of relief.
This doesn’t go unnoticed.
Mina drops to her knees again, stopping the dribble of wetness with her tongue and bringing herself back up to where it originated from.
“Is this what you want, baby?” taking one big long lick of your cunt again.
“oh fuck…” escapes your throat in a whimper, she smirks from between your legs.
Standing up abruptly, she removed her bottoms and is now naked with you in this massive, fancy bathroom.
“Well, we have a movie date tonight so this will have to wait.” winking at you and kissing your lips so you can taste yourself on her mouth.
This turns your legs into jelly as she walks back to the room after hanging the bathing suits up.
“Can I wear a pair of your sweats and a tshirt?”
Following her to the room, you’re in a daze. Unable to comprehend what Mina’s tongue just did to you and how nonchalant she was about it all.
“…Y/n?”
“Oh! Uhm, yes. Whatever you want.” trying to snap back to reality but the nagging between your legs was screaming for more of her.
“You’re cute when you’re flustered…I’ll keep that in mind.” pulling out a big black T-shirt and a pair of sweat pants from your bag, slipping them on with no bra or panties.
Following this, you slip on your other pair of sweats and a shirt. Just doing what you assumed to be routine and trying not to focus on how badly you wanted her to touch you again.
Everything after this was a blur. Walking down the stairs, finding seats next to each other, her resting her legs on you, and even what movie you were watching was not something at the forefront of your mind.
You could only think about Mina.
On her knees.
Tongue buried in you.
Smacking her lips at your taste.
Halfway through the movie, you’ve calmed a bit enough to take in what was happening around you. Jihyo, Nayeon, Momo, and Sana had gotten more drinks and were giggling and laughing with each other.
Chaeyoung and Dahyun were on the verge of falling asleep and Mina was laying in your lap, between your legs with her head on your hipbone and the top knuckles of two her fingers hooked around your waistband.
Feeling yourself clenching at this, you try to hold her hand instead but it doesn’t work. She simply nuzzles into you more, bringing you right back into your horny daze of endlessly craving her touch.
Feeling how wet you were, you adjust slighty. This doesn’t go unnoticed at all. Mina lifts her head up at you, big brown eyes connecting with yours before she looks around the room and surveys what has everyone’s attention.
On the couch that was positioned behind yours, Jihyo, Momo, Nayeon, and Sana are distracted with each other and on the other couch across from you, Chaeyoung and Dahyun have fallen asleep.
Looking back to you, there’s a glimmer in her eyes, a sparkle you’d never seen before. She grabs a blanket that was on the end of the couch and pulls it up to her neck.
Assuming she was just cold, you place a hand on her back and rub slow circles to try and offer some warmth.
That’s when you feel it.
Mina scoots up so her shoulders align with your hips, she tugs your waistband down under your ass, the blanket hiding it all and slips a single finger between your lips before gently strokes your folds.
“Mina, what are you doing?” hushed tone filled with anxiety as she keeps on, rubbing and teasing your clit while you’re panicked and looking around to see if anyone will see what is happening.”
“They won’t notice, I promise. Plus, I just can’t resist you. I’ve wanted this for so long…keep quiet for me, baby.” whispered seductively to you before scooting down so her face was level with her hand and slowly dips her finger inside you just to pull it back out.
Hips bucking up, they betray your words and tell her that you wanted more of this despite being surrounded by her members and your best friend.
She lets out devious smirk before her head drops down, tongue replacing her finger on your clit for a long sensual lick.
Body betraying you in more ways than one, a string of slick attaches to her tongue, only breaking when she pulls it back into mouth to fully engulf herself in your flavor.
“You taste so good, I think I’ll devour you right here.” another lick as her finger slips inside you and starts pumping slowly.
The worry of anyone finding out about what was happening now thrusts to the back of your mind.
You don’t care, you just need her and she knew that. It was obvious, feeling yourself dripping all over her finger and the shimmering around her lips.
Mina continued on, licking your clit and pressing her fingers against your g-spot as you rocked your hips with her movements.
Running your fingers through her hair as you hissed out of pleasure, both of you freeze- hoping that no one heard the sound that erupted from the couch.
“You okay?” Jihyo inquired through her drunkenness.
“Yeah, I’m fine! Just sleepy.” lifting your arms and stretching them back to try and fool her, but you had your doubts that she believed you.
Mina started licking and sucking again as soon as Jihyo spoke and through out the interaction, not even worried about what anyone was thinking, focusing on you and only you.
The idea of getting caught made you nervous but you didn’t want her tongue to leave you for even a second. You’re sure she could feel how much your body liked the way she felt against you, you only wished she could hear how good it feel.
Another soft sigh leaves your lips, this one barely audible, as your hands grip her hair. Another finger slips in as she gradually picks up her pace.
Thrusting your hips up into her, you look down at her. The grip you have on her hair tells her everything she needs to know.
Mina suddenly stops, pulling your sweats back up as you twitch from the lack of stimulation. Breathing heavy and thoroughly confused, you glare at her and shake your head in confusion.
Climbing up to lay her head on your shoulder, she leans up to kiss you and you can taste yourself on her lips again.
She must like making you taste yourself, not that you were complaining.
“As much as I want to make you cum right now…I’d rather hear you.” Before getting comfortable curled up on your torso.
Slipping a hand under your shirt, she rolls one of your nipples causing you to involuntarily thrust your hips up.
“I want to keep you like this until later…when I can have you how I want you.”
Your heart is pounding in disbelief, pleasure, and nervousness. The concoction of emotions and chemicals flooding your veins is a strange and electric feeling.
The iced chill of adrenaline from what just happened makes you tense as the movie in the background plays on, not that you were paying attention.
Focused on Mina’s touch, deciding to give you a break after hearing your heart pound, she simply drew small hearts with the tip of her finger- ghosting your initials on your chest and giving you a sense of ease.
The clock ticked on with the rhythm of her traces against your skin, the movie played on and you stayed splayed out on the couch with Mina resting on your chest, patiently waiting for it to end so that you could have the time you wanted with her.
Eyes getting heavier and heavier as time goes on, fighting every mist of sleep that touched your eyes. Wanting to see what would happen when this movie ended and only jolting awake when Nayeon’s monstrous laugh echoed against the walls.
Ultimately losing the battle against sleep while Mina aided it.
The sound of the door knob rattling pulled you out of deep sleep and into a light trance. The arms around you felt familiar but not in the way you expected.
“Thank you, Hyo.” almost being able to see Mina roll her eyes as you were gently placed on the bed, unmoving to see how this conversation would play out.
“Mina…what’s with you today? You’ve been very cold to me and I’m not understanding why.” Jihyo seems adamant about getting an answer but you can hear the hesitation in Mina.
“You’re just so close…I’ve never liked someone like I like Y/n…and with the bond you have with her, I’m worried that she would rather be with you.” sadness in the huffed explanation wrenches your heart in a way you didn’t have words to explain.
“Mina…we are just friends. There is nothing going on between us. She likes you…and with both of you in my ear about it, I had the managers move your schedules so you could spend time together…why would I do that if I didn’t want you to be together?” Jihyo seems offended at what Mina has just said to her, only further proving that Jihyo was rooting for the two of you.
“You’re right…I’m sorry.” Realization hitting that she didn’t need to be so possessive of you, the tone she took in this was genuine.
“It’s okay. I understand. I promise you though, we just get along well. There’s nothing romantic there, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Alright now go get some sleep! We are on vacation after all.”
The door closes and you aren’t sure what side of it Mina was on. That is until you felt the bed dip in next to you and the covers slither out from under you just to be thrown over top of you.
Rotating around, keeping your eyes closed you nuzzle into her neck and try to sleep again. Wrapping her arms around you, she kisses your forehead and follows you off to sleep.
The sound of birds chirping in the early morning wakes you, gently pulling you out of your Mina filled dreams to waking up next to her, still wrapped in her arms. Soft breaths from her ease any tension you would normally have, what a lovely way to start your day.
Eyes cracking open, letting in the milky orange light that was shining through the window, creating a golden hour that radiated Mina’s beauty when you didn’t think she could get more effervescent.
You could lay there with her all day and not have a single regret or pang of remorse. She was like a beautiful peace of art that was in motion, a painting come to life that you felt lucky to see with your own eyes, let alone be able to touch.
Laughing and heavy footsteps bring her out of sleep, sighing and shifting in place before relaxing back into you again. Switching spots with her, you sat up. Letting her rest her head on your chest while you mindlessly scrolled through your phone until she was finally awake.
Mina wasn’t much of a talker in the mornings, you learned. A grumpy little baby laid next to you, hiding her face in her hair and snuggling into your chest further.
“Good Morning, gorgeous.” kissing her forehead and petting her hair.
A soft smile greeted you back before quickly melting into a soft tired expression.
“You ready to start the day? We can go get coffee and start a fire.” trying to coax her out of bed with things that might actually get her up.
Mina shakes her head and wraps her arms around you tighter, signaling that she was in fact NOT ready to move at all.
“What if we got coffee…” Mina glares up at you between her bang, you can’t help but laugh at how adorable she was.
“Hear me out, hear me out! What if we got coffee, started a fire and I brought down some of those lego sets I brought for you and you can build one while enjoying the warmth? I can read a little while you do that. Sound good?” speaking in a hushed tone to allow her some time to acclimate to something other than the dreamscape she just left.
She nods her head quickly with a cheeky smile on her face, still holding you tightly and waiting for you to make the first move.
“Alright, then that’s our plan.” Kissing her forehead one last time before standing up to sort through the few boxes that you had brought with you.
Mina picked the lego bouquet of roses before she went to her own room to brush her teeth and change.
Doing the same, brushing your teeth and changing your shirt into an oversized crew neck sweater.
Grabbing the rose set as well as the specialty car you told her about, knowing she would want to build more after, and your book, you met Mina in the hallway. Making your way down to the kitchen together to get a mug of freshly made coffee.
Dahyun, Sana and Jihyo were in the kitchen making small talk as Sana flipped a pancake.
“Good Morning!!” Sana shot her hand up in the sky to wave at you boisterously, already full of energy.
This doesn’t surprise you at all. Dahyun winces at the ray of sunshine making breakfast but offers both of you a huge smile. Jihyo waves to both of you and carries on with her conversation. Nayeon and Momo are no where to be found while Chae is curled up on the couch in the living room snoring away while the snow falls outside.
“We were going to go out and build snowmen later, if you wanted to join us!” Sana seems so excited about it, it’s hard to turn her down.
“I think Mina and I are going to have a lazy day inside, but maybe tomorrow?” offering the alternative for her, knowing she would say yes.
“Tomorrow! Yes, you owe me a snowman building session tomorrow” pointing the spatula at you and then mina and then back at you before flipping the pancake onto the already made stack.
Sana serves everyone breakfast as Momo and Nayeon come down the stairs, sleep still filling their eyes.
Jihyo goes to wake Chaeyoung up and everyone eats breakfast and drinks coffee together. It’s so nice to be apart of this, it feels so…wholesome, to be brought into their little family even with a few of the members missing.
You feel accepted and at peace.
After breakfast ends, everyone but you and Mina go upstairs to suit up for the snow. Finding a quiet place in the den, you get a fire going while Mina goes and grabs you both mugs of hot chocolate.
Setting up on the coffee table, you spend an hour building the bouquet of roses lego set with Mina. Working together and adding piece by piece until it’s almost complete.
Unable to help yourself, you offer her a single plastic rose before finishing the set.
Mina blushes at the offer and kissing your cheek before finally adding the final piece to it.
“We did that so quickly.”
“We make a great team, I’d say.” nudging her with your elbow and winking.
Her face flushes again, grabbing your arm and hugging it tightly while resting her head on your shoulder, admiring the bouquet of roses make of plastic bricks.
“I did bring something else though. I had a feeling we would end up finishing this quickly so I brought one of the car sets down for you to do. I know these are your favorite.” offering her the box to a specially made Mint Green racecar with her Twice number on it.
Mina gasps, hands covering her mouth as she sees that the limited edition set. 1 of 1. Specially made per your request.
“Y/n…did you have this made for me?” Looking at you in disbelief before excitedly opening the box and dumping the bags full of pieces out.
“I wanted to get you something you’d be able to keep and know that it was yours. It was nothing, really. I just wanted to get you something special.” shying away from her as she looked up at you with an entirely new gaze.
All you can do is smile at her, you knew this was the perfect surprise for her and you were happy to see her reaction.
“It’s perfect…Thank you so much.” taking a moment to look into your eyes before ripping the bags open eagerly. You sit next to her and open your book, starting to read by the fire while Mina tinkered with the plastic blocks, building her very own Lego Race car.
A few hours in, you and Mina were just enjoying each other’s presence. Completely immersed in each other while doing your separate tasks while the rest of the girls play in the snow outside, you are completely content with everything happening.
“Y/n? Will you help me with this part?” Mina asks seemingly befuddled with what was in her hands.
“Sure!” sliding your bookmark back into the book and closing it shut before placing it up on the table.
Leaning over to see the instructions, you notice that the car is already built past that part. Raising an eyebrow at Mina, you look over and catch the spark in her eyes…
“I don’t actually need help with the legos.” smirked as she scooted into your lap, crossing her legs around your torso and locking you into place.
Mina removes your shirt, revealing a black lace bra that she had worn just for you.
Stunned was an understatement, you were gawking at her smooth chest and abs as she wrapped her arms around your neck.
“I can’t stop thinking about last night…” kissing you passionately in the middle of her sentence, gripping your hair while she does.
“…the way you tasted just…” another passionate kiss
“…I need more of you.” open mouthed entanglement leads you to lay down without removing your lips from her.
Back against the soft rug while Mina straddles you, making out without a care and just dissolving into each other. Hands land on her hips, you start to tug and push her against you, creating friction against her.
“Fuck” moaned into your mouth, grinding herself against you now before lifting up your torso and removing your crew neck, revealing no bra underneath.
Barely allowing her mouth to leave you, she keeps grinding against your thighs and you can feel how wet she’s becoming. Heat radiating from between her legs like the burn of the sun, she can’t help but thrust her hips harder against you.
Instincts kick in, hands tracing up behind Mina’s back to unhook the bra she was wearing and slipping it off her arms before setting it on the couch next to you.
Pulling her closer to you, pressing her body against yours, you try to roll her over onto her back but she stops you, not allowing you to be on top of her.
“That’s not how this is going to go” scooting down your legs and kissing from your neck, to your chest, to your stomach and eventually laying a few open mouthed kisses on your hips as she slowly brought your sweat pants down and off your body.
“I’ve been waiting too long and I’m impatient. I have to have you.” spreading your legs apart and kissing up your thighs, being sure to take her time biting and licking up to your soaked pussy.
Feeling your pulse inside yourself, heart beating so fast at the pure need that was illuminating off the both of you, and you can’t help but try to take a little charge by gripping her hair and bringing her where you wanted her.
Mina’s hands fly up, gathering your wrists while you’re too enthralled with what her mouth was doing, she keeps them in the grip of one of her hands.
“I don’t remember telling you to touch me.” the sternness in your words takes you by surprise, in the best way possible.
Dripping endlessly for her, you feel so empty without her inside of you. Already being so needy and thinking about how she teased you so much in the past 24 hours, you would so anything just to feel her lips on you for even a moment.
“Please, baby” huffed through the heavy breaths of anticipation as she inches closer and closer to exactly where you want her to be.
“Please, what?” looking into your eyes as she waits for your response.
“I need you.”
“You need me? Where do you need me?” smirking and waiting for you to say it.
“I need you to fuck me, please! You’ve teased me so much…I need to feel you on me.” as you state your case, Mina’s pointer finger glides through your drenched lips and she tastes your slick right off of it, moaning at the flavor.
“Mina…please!” about to cry from how badly you want it.
How badly you want her.
Without a word, Mina’s mouth is on you again. Taking the long licks up your pussy and back down again, teasing your entrance and clit on both passes.
Hips now thrusting on their own, you follow her patterns and whimper at every tease she has given you. Tongue swiping across your entrance and then back up to your clit, before she finally starts placing soft pecks right where you wanted her.
“Oh, fuck…Mina, p-please.” grinding down on her tongue while she keeps your wrists locked in her hand.
Her pace speeds up, lapping at your folds before latching herself onto your clit and creating a circular pattern with her tongue.
The fire in your stomach rages on, burning every single molecule of any thought you had, with the exception of her and every single pass of her tongue on you.
The ache for her inside you was earthshattering, you needed to feel her long fingers thrusting into you.
She must’ve heard your thoughts.
As you whined and whimpered for her, she let go of your wrists, wrapping one arm around your thigh, and the other gathering up your essence before plunging two fingers inside of you with ease.
The gasp you let out must’ve been music to her ears, your hips lurching forward to feel her deeper inside of you. Eagerness and need refracting off the thing sheen of sweat that was seeping through your pores, the harsh breaths that became heavier with each pump of her fingers and swipe of her tongue.
It was not long before the flicking of her tongue that had built the foundation of the orgasm that was about to shatter through you. Her digits hastily pressing and releasing inside of you was so heavenly, you couldn’t hold it any longer.
“I’m g-gonna, fuck, cum!”
Mina detaches her mouth from you for a moment, eyeing your neediness and desire for release before teasing you further. Her fingers never stop.
“You’re going to cum for me? Already?” kissing your inner thighs as she admires the mess she made of you.
“Going to be a good girl and cum in my mouth, baby?” seductively growled from between your legs before she places her mouth back on you.
This sends you into overdrive, clawing at the rug underneath you to feel some form of stability when her mouth returns to you and you become undone.
Twitching and convulsing under her as pure ethereal ecstasy sinks into your skin, veins flash hot and then cold as you feel the rush of pleasure that Mina was expertly giving you. Gasping and reaching for something to grip while you continue riding out your orgasm on Mina’s fingers and mouth before finally collapsing and just trying to catch your breath.
Mina smirks from between your legs, propping herself up on her elbows, pulling her fingers out of you, and sucking them dry. Being sure you watch her lick her lips clean.
She crawls up next to you, snuggling into you neck and laying soft, gentle kisses on your cheeks, swiping away the strands of hair stuck to your face while you lay there in awe of her.
“Myoui Mina…what a surprise you are.” between the breaths you were trying to stabilize.
“Oh, this is just round one…” proactively murmured to you, followed by a playful giggle and another peck to the cheek.
Turning your head to look at her in shock, unable to comprehend how someone who seems so shy is actually so…bold.
“Round…one?”
Mina pushes your head away from her and bites down harshly on your neck, reignited the flame she just quelled within you. Kissing your skin lightly, she gives you another harsh bite farther down your neck.
“Mhm…put your clothes on…we are going upstairs” sitting up and dragging your cloths off the couch before throwing your pants and shirt at you, watching as you put them on in a panic and scamper for the stairs.
Mina laughs and throws her shirt on, grabbing the lace bra and taking off after you- racing after you upstairs to your room.
You get to the door first, almost ripping it off the hinges and dive onto the bed- she’s laughing as she steps in about 5 seconds after you.
A grin painted on her face as she closes the door and locks it behind her, immediately removing her shirt and letting her pants hit the floor.
A black lace thong, matching the bra she previously wore, was the only thing she was wearing and you wanted it off immediately.
Sitting up on the bed, you stripped your clothes off so fast you thought they might rip, tossing them to the side and patiently waiting for her to come over to you.
Mina crawls over top of you, face mere centimeters away as she forces you down on your back again.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” Caressing your cheeks before connecting your lips again, pressing her body against you completely.
Taking the opportunity and using her vulnerability against her, you sweep your leg around her, rolling her over in the process and pinning her to the mattress without ever separating from her lips.
Pinning her hands above her, you kiss down her neck to her chest, bringing her nipple in your mouth and swirling your tongue around it briefly.
Letting go of her wrists, she’s quick to grip the hair on the back of your head, bringing you closer to her and moaning with each pass of your tongue over your nipple.
Sitting up to slip her lace panties off, Mina lifts her hips for you so you can easily peel them off of her. With this movement, you are able to see how soaked her panties actually were.
“Someone is excited, hm?” Winking up at her and tossing her underwear with the rest of your clothes.
Bringing your face down and level with her pussy, you flatten your tongue against her folds and fully taste her.
Gasping at the feeling of your tongue, she’s quick to grip your hair again, steering your head where she wanted it. It was very clear who was in charge but she was willing to let you pretend.
After a few minutes of Mina whining while thrusting into your face. She tugs your hair up, pulling you away from her, and signaling you to come up to her.
This was a trick.
She flips you over, crawling up your body and pinning your down shoulders with her knees.
Her pussy so close to your mouth, you’re drooling for it as you watch her drip onto your chest.
She grabs you by your hair and mounts your face.
“You’re going to do exactly what I say, isn’t that right baby?” Growled at you from above paired with a menacing glare.
Nodding your head eagerly, you’re ready for whatever she brings.
“Good girl, now stick out your tongue for me.”
You spend the rest of your day and night doing exactly what you’re told, in your room with the bed bumping against the walls matching the grunts and groans of pleasure that the entire house could hear…even with it being so large.
Bright rays of sunlight burst through the curtains that you slid shut the afternoon before, waking you from your peaceful sleep. Shifting a bit, you stretch and sigh as you allow your body to wake up.
Muttering under your breath at the soreness you seemed to have gathered from the night before, you stand up and head to the bathroom for a shower to rinse the sex off your body.
Stretching again once you stand, your legs are threaten to come out from under you with each step as you make your way to the bathroom, trying to be as silent as possible to not wake up the woman that made you ache in two different ways.
Leaving the door ajar so the latch wouldn’t wake Mina, you flick the lights on. Approaching the mirror, you take in the deep shades of purple and red that littered your body from head to toe.
“Oh…shit.” Pulling the skin taut and trying to plan out how you were going to hide these marks all over you.
The door swings open, a hand flies to the wall, hitting the button to turn the shower on. A sigh travels through the room before arms wrap around your waist from behind and a warm cheek lands on your back.
“Good morning,” muffled against your back.
“Good morning, my little vampire.”
“Your what?” Furrowing her brows at you while trying to understand the statement while half asleep.
“Look at the marks you made” lifting your chin up to show her.
Mina opens her eyes, peaking over your shoulder, looking at you in confusion until she sees the marks she left all over your neck, chest and thighs.
“Oh my god?!” Concern in her voice as she lets go of you to get in front of you and inspect your marks further.
Gently turning your head, looking at your neck to see big bruises and bite marks that trail down to your chest and hips.
“I’m so sorry, honey…I guess I got a little carried away…I hope the girls don’t pay too much attention to them” shying away from you, hiding in shame and worry.
“Hey hey hey,” pulling her towards you, holding her close.
“I enjoyed every second of yesterday. Even the marks, okay? And I’m sure they won’t notice them. I’ll wear my hair down so they’re covered, okay?” Rubbing her arms for reassurance.
“Besides, I think they’re my color. Don’t you?” Showing them off in a fashionable way to get a laugh out of her.
“Okay okaaaaaay, but you know that if there’s ever anything that I do in the bedroom that you don’t like…you can tell me and we won’t do that again, right?” Dragging a finger down your chest gently, biting her bottom lip before looking up at you.
“I know. I trust you. And for what it’s worth…I wouldn’t change a single thing about what happened yesterday…except maybe finishing the Lego set. But we can do that today!” Kissing her forehead and rubbing her back.
Mina flashes a gummy smile and giggles before pulling you into the shower with her to perform some morning after aftercare.
Spinning you around, Mina gently washed your hair and back, sudsing you up and letting you stand in the warm water as she rinses you off.
Sensing some tension, you can tell something is on her mind. Grabbing her hand, weaving your fingers together before she can lather your chest up with soap, you cock your head to the side.
“Everything okay? You seem a little tense”
“Yeah…I just…Can I ask you something?” shy returning, you can tell it’s taken her a moment to build up the courage to say what she wants to.
“Of course, you can ask me anything.” Reassuring her that this was a safe space to say whatever she needed.
“Would you…uhm….want to…” her eyes shift in nervousness, you find it adorable.
“…be my girlfriend?” Her eyes hit the floor, waiting for your reply.
Lifting her chin up to make eye contact with you, you admire her face, caressing her cheek before placing a romantic soft kiss on her lips.
“I’d love to.”
Mina’s gummy smile returns once again, she’s giddy at your response and your heart soars with care for this person that you had admired, who was now your partner in crime.
You finish cleaning yourselves up and get dressed, heading down stairs to get some breakfast. Both of you starving from your rigorous activities the day prior.
Momo is cooking breakfast, everyone is sitting around the table as you and Mina make your way to your seats.
Wincing as you sit down, trying to get comfortable with the soreness that was through out your body. Mina sees the discomfort in you, rubbing your shoulder to try and ease some of it.
“Good Morning, you two!” Sana is beaming and repressing laughter as she take sight of both of you.
“Yeah, good moOoOoOrning” Nayeon seems to be teasing the two of you when Jihyo walks into the kitchen and sees you both sitting there, hiding the shame of everyone knowing what you’ve been up to.
It’s apparent that she notices the dark marks along your neck and the awkward way you’re sitting in the chair.
Well, fuck.
A huge smile spreads across her face, whipping around to Dahyun’s spot at the table, she runs over and starts shimmying and jumping up and down in celebration.
“HA! Dahyun! Pay up!” Jihyo stretches her hand out to Dahyun.
“Pay up?” Questioning what just came out of Jihyo’s mouth, one brow raised at the statement.
Dahyun sighs, slapping a $20 into Jihyo’s hand before looking dead at you.
“We had a bet going. I said you would be the top and Jihyo said it would be Mina…And you LET ME DOWN!” Slamming her hands on the table dramatically while everyone around you bursted into laughter.
“Yeah right, Dubu! Mina cannot be out topped.” Momo chimed in while bringing an array of food to the table with Sana and Nayeon following with trays of various fruits, bacon, sausage, waffles and toast.
“But Y/n has always been the more dominant one in all of her relationships! I thought this would be the same!” Distraught in her words, Dahyun lays her head on the table accepting her defeat.
“Wait…how did you know we would even get together?” Mina inquired to everyone.
“That’s a joke, right? The amount you two talked about each other to us…it was obvious. We just had to push a little. Plus, Mina you’ve had a crush on Y/n since Dahyun showed you pictures of their last vacation together.” Jihyo chimed in with Nayeon giggling in the background.
“I tried to get them to let it happen naturally but SOME people…” Momo glaring at Chae and Sana.
“…wanted to push. I’ll admit, I’m happy they did.” Momo is smiling at the two of you, while everyone else is arguing about who contributed to you ultimately getting together.
You and Mina join hands under the table, laughing at the chaos around you and happy to see the support and love from the rest of the girls.
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nhlclover · 6 months ago
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𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇(𝐄𝐃) | 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒
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summary: luke finds himself caught in whirlwind of emotions when quinn brings his girlfriend to the lake house.
warnings: part two found here! angst, unrequited love, luke being hopelessly in love with quinn's girlfriend (you), couple uses of y/n
word count: 2.43k
Luke was in deep shit. Like, the deepest shit he could possibly be in.
When Quinn said he was bringing his girlfriend to the lake house this summer, Jack and Luke were excited to have a new person join in on their summer traditions, especially after how Quinn raved about you.
The moment Luke watched you step out of Quinn’s rental car, he felt a jolt run through him. Your tanned legs looked endless in your jean shorts, a stark contrast against the sleek, dark paint of the car. The sun glinted off your skin, giving you an almost ethereal glow. Your hair cascaded down your shoulders in perfect waves, catching the light and swaying gently in the summer breeze. It was as if you had stepped straight out of a dream and into his reality.
Luke's breath caught in his throat, and he knew in that instant he was screwed. Every inch of you screamed effortless beauty and confidence, and it took all he could to keep his composure. He felt an overwhelming mix of emotions—excitement, nervousness, and an undeniable attraction that made his heart pound in his chest. He understood what Quinn saw in you.
He knew how horribly inappropriate it was for him to be looking at you like this since you were his older brother’s girlfriend. But knowing didn’t make it any easier. As you walked towards him, smiling, Luke’s mind raced. His mouth felt dry, and he could barely muster a “hello” as you approached.
"Hey, Luke!" you greeted him warmly, your voice as captivating as your appearance. "Quinn’s told me so much about you."
"Uh, hey," Luke stammered, trying to act natural. "Welcome to the lake house. Hope you enjoy it here."
You thanked him, heading into the lake house where Jack was going to show her to Quinn’s room. Quinn walked up to his brother, watching his gaze follow you into the house.
Sensing his discomfort, he clapped a hand on Luke’s shoulder. "Don't worry, man. She's cool. You’ll love her."
Love her. The words echoed in Luke’s mind, taunting him with the impossibility of his situation. Throughout the week, as everyone settled in and the usual summer activities began, Luke found it increasingly difficult to focus. Whether it was swimming in the lake, grilling on the deck, or playing beach volleyball, his eyes kept drifting back to you. It was especially difficult when you all lived in bathing suits during the summer. Every bikini seemed to be created for you, perfectly sitting on your hips and perfectly cupping your full breasts.
Each laugh you shared with Quinn sent a pang of guilt and jealousy through him. He understood the sanctity of his brother’s relationship and how wrong it was for him to harbour these feelings. It wasn't just inappropriate; it was a betrayal of the trust and respect he had for Quinn. The bond he shared with Quinn was one of the most important relationships in his life. They had grown up together and supported each other through thick and thin, and Luke admired Quinn more than anyone else. This admiration made the guilt even more intense.
The rational part of Luke's mind screamed at him to pull himself together. He tried to focus on the absurdity of the situation—how he was pining for someone who was not only off-limits but deeply committed to someone he loved. The inner turmoil gnawed at him, and he found it increasingly difficult to look Quinn in the eye, fearing that his brother might somehow sense the inappropriate thoughts lurking just beneath the surface.
Realizing that being around you was too much to bear, Luke decided it was best to ignore you altogether. It wasn’t easy at first but realized it was necessary to protect his sanity. Avoidance was his primary strategy; leaving the room when you entered, pretending to busy himself with any mundane task. He even cleaned the main bathroom, something he couldn’t recall having done once. He also avoided making eye contact, fearing that even the slightest acknowledgment of your presence would betray the storm of emotions raging within him.
At first, Luke's avoidance went unnoticed, or so he hoped. He observed from a distance as you integrated seamlessly into their summer routines, laughing with Quinn, joining in on games, and sharing stories with Jack and the others. But even from afar, your presence was a constant distraction, a reminder of the turmoil Luke couldn't escape.
The summer sun had long dipped past the horizon, the stars now sprinkled in the sky. The fire burned brightly in the pit that everyone had gathered around. Trevor and Cole sat on the grass, arguing about when a marshmallow was properly cooked. Everyone's attention was on their argument, chiming in whenever one of them said something outrageous. However, Luke’s eyes were on you.
Luke couldn’t bring himself to focus on his friend's conversation while you sat across from him. The firelight danced in your eyes, your laughter mingling with the crackling of the flames. Luke just couldn’t tear his eyes away from you.
Luke hears his name come out of your mouth, bringing him out of his daze.
“What about you Luke?” you ask him
“Hmm?” he hums, his heart racing when you locked eyes.
“How do you like your marshmallow cooked?” you repeated.
His eyes danced down to your mouth, just picturing the way your plump lips would feel on his. “I uh…I…” Luke stammered, already forgetting your words as his mind raced. “I’m gonna go get a refill inside.”
As Luke rose from his seat, his movements were slightly unsteady, unable to shake the vivid image of your lips from his mind. With every step towards the door, his pulse quickened, his thoughts consumed entirely by you. Entering the home, he made his way to the kitchen and opened the fridge, letting the cool air wash over him, hoping it might clear his mind.
Clearly, his plan to avoid you in order to get rid of his feelings was failing spectacularly. The cool air from the fridge did little to extinguish the warmth spreading through his chest as he imagined being in Quinn’s position. He imagined being the one to fall asleep with you curled in his arms, being the one to be on the receiving end of the countless kisses he’d unfortunately witnessed. Luke stood there for a moment, gripping the fridge door, taking deep breaths in an attempt to steady himself. He needed a distraction, something to focus on besides the magnetic pull he felt towards you.
Luke shuts the fridge when he hears the patio door slide open and shut, the sound of feet padding closer to the kitchen.
“Hey, Luke,” you say as you enter the kitchen.
Luke tensed, his heart pounding in his chest. "Hey, y/n.”
Luke had done everything possible throughout the summer to prevent himself from being stuck alone in the same room as you. He made up excuses after excuses, pretending he had to take calls or needed to go to the bathroom — anything not to be stuck in a room with you.
It wasn’t as if you’d been oblivious to it. You noticed the way he seemed to avoid you and any possible interaction. At first, you brushed it off, convincing yourself that you were overthinking it. Maybe he really did have a lot of calls to take, or perhaps his sudden need to use the bathroom was just coincidental. But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into the full stretch of summer, his behaviour became too obvious to ignore.
You’d tried so hard to make a good impression on your boyfriend's brothers, people you knew were important to Quinn. You helped out throughout the summer, participated in every little activity that they did, and went out of your way to strike up conversations with them about their interests (which pretty much began and ended with hockey).
But with Luke, you found it hard to hold even small talk with him. According to Quinn, he isn’t normally like this.
“I don’t know, maybe it’s me bringing someone new to our lake house” Quinn suggested one evening as you sat together on the porch. You had brought up Luke’s behaviour, questioning if she had possibly done something to upset him. Quinn pressed a kiss to the top of your head, holding you close to his chest. "He’ll come around."
You tried to believe Quinn, but as the days went by, Luke’s avoidance of you became abundant. It was a deliberate, almost strategic avoidance. When he did acknowledge you, his words were clipped, his eyes never meeting yours.
There were moments when you’d catch Luke staring at you from across the room, his expression almost unreadable. Despite Quinn’s reassurances, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to Luke’s behaviour, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
You decided that enough was enough. You needed to address this tension head-on, if not for your own peace of mind, then for the sake of your relationship with Quinn.
“Why do you hate me?” you ask suddenly, catching Luke off guard.
Luke finally turned to look at you, your eyes meeting for the first time since you’d entered the home. His breath catches in his throat. “I don’t hate you,” Luke replies, you not being able to trace any hints of untruthfulness.
“Then why have you been avoiding me the whole summer?” you press, desperation seeping into your tone. Luke sighs, looking away from you, his gaze fixed on the floor. “I mean… d-did I do something, or say something that upset you? Just tell me, 'cause I’m sorry.”
“No, y/n, it’s not that. I mean you’re amazing, it’s just…”
Luke’s voice trails off as he takes a couple of steps away from you, his shoulders sagging.
“Then what is it Luke, come on. I’m trying so hard here.” you huff, your frustration bubbling up. “You and Jack are so important to Quinn and I really love him so-”
“That’s exactly the problem!” Luke interjects, his voice suddenly sharp as he finally turns towards you. He opens his mouth to say more but stops, muttering ‘fuck’ under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides.
A flicker of confusion crosses your features before the realization dawns, a gentle understanding replacing your earlier apprehension. You take a tentative step towards him, your heart pounding in your chest.
“Luke… why didn’t you say anything?” you ask.
“What am I supposed to say?” he laughs bitterly. “You wanted me to say ‘Hey there, I’m your boyfriend's younger brother. By the way, I’m completely in love with you’.”
You stand there, stunned, as the weight of his words sink in. Your mind runs a million miles a minute as you process it all. A minute ago, you thought your boyfriend's younger brother hated you, and now you learn it’s the complete opposite. The room suddenly feels smaller, the air thicker. Luke runs a hand through his hair.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” he continues, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “I tried to stay away, to not let it show, but every time I saw you with Quinn, it just… hurt.”
You take another step closer. “Luke… I’m so sorry, I had no idea.”
“It’s not your fault,” he says quickly, his eyes meeting yours again, filled with a mixture of pain and longing. “You can’t control who you fall for, right?”
Your heart breaks a little for him, nodding slowly. “But why avoid me? Why push me away instead of talking to me? Or talk to Quinn?”
“Yeah, I don’t think it would’ve gone over too well if I told Quinn I had a crush on his girlfriend.” Luke chuckled humourlessly. He presses on when he sees your serious expression. “Listen, I didn’t want to make things harder for you, or for Quinn. I thought if I kept my distance, maybe I could move on. But I think I took it a little too far and sent the wrong message.”
Luke deflects with another humourless laugh, but your heart can’t help but break for him. You see the strain etched in his features, the way his shoulders slump under the weight of his unspoken feelings. You couldn’t help but feel like this was partially your fault, your attempts to bond with Luke likely pushing him further away.
"I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable, at all. All I wanted to do was bond with Quinn’s brothers,” you tell him. Luke shakes his head, ensuring you that you did nothing wrong. “But you have to know, my feelings are completely with Quinn. He means everything to me."
Luke nodded, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. "I know, I know. He's lucky to have you."
“Quinn loves to talk about you guys. I know how great you are, you’ll find the right person soon,” you reassure him. “But from now on just don’t ignore me. I know it might be tough but it’s better than having Quinn have to pick between the two of us.”
Luke let out a chuckle, looking back up at you. You had a small smile on your face, one that was unmistakably out of pity, but it was still pretty nonetheless.
You both fell into a more comfortable silence. It wasn't the kind of silence that comes from awkwardness or unresolved tension, but rather the kind that follows a necessary confrontation and the beginning of a resolution. Luke felt a small but significant weight lift from his shoulders.
"Should we head back outside?" you suggested, breaking the silence gently. "I think they might start to wonder where we are."
"Yeah," Luke agreed, his voice firmer. "You go, I’ll be right out."
You nodded, reaching out and giving Luke’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. As you exited the kitchen, Luke stayed back for a moment longer, taking a deep breath. After laying his chest bare to you, he felt a strange sense of relief that mixed with the lingering sting of his unrequited feelings.
Luke leaned against the counter, staring out the window at the flickering fire outside. Everyone was engrossed in a dramatic story being told by Trevor, laughing and teasing each other. You were sat in Quinn’s lap, a wide smile on your face as you watched the blonde boy. As he watched you say something to Quinn, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing. Despite your conversation, Luke wasn’t over you. He might never get over you.
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sebastianstangirl01 · 2 years ago
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One Man’s Loss is Another Man’s Gain
Title: One Man’s Loss is Another Man’s Gain
Pairing: Jake Seresin x Wife Reader
Warnings: Language, Fluff, Bradley being put in his place, Protective Jake
Summary: When the best pilots in the navy get called back to Top Gun for a special detachment and it’s learned that Pete Maverick Mitchell is the instructor Bradley Bradshaw looks forward to seeing his old crush again so he can finally confess his feelings, Y/N Mitchell. Too bad Jake Seresin already swept her off her feet and made her Mrs. Seresin.
Requested: Yes!
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When you first heard about this special suicide mission it’s safe to say you were terrified for your husband and father. You and Jake had been married for around 3 years now and you’re currently 7 months pregnant with your first child. The idea of being left a widow killing you inside, but not as much as the chance of your son growing up without his father.
You and your father Pete Mitchell have a strong relationship, he was the only constant in your life for a long time after your mother abandoned you on his doorstep. Growing up you and your dad spent a lot of time with Carole and Bradley, Goose passed away 3 years before you were born and Carole and Pete sometimes joked that Goose sent you to them because he knew they needed you.
Carole was the only mother figure you ever had in your life and when she passed away when you were 16 it rocked your whole world, as far as you were concerned she helped raise you and you loved her like a daughter loves her mother.
Bradley. He was a different story, though you’re 6 years younger than him you two grew up as best friends. He was your first crush when you turned 13 and actually noticed how cute he was, but he was in college then and was always going out to parties with college girls, so you never saw him much. When you were 15 you finally realized how dumb your crush was, he was 21 and you were still basically a child playing softball and hanging out with your friends at the movies and the beach. For your own sanity you let the crush go and just focused on being happy to see him when he came home on breaks.
One day everything changed though. Bradley had written you off completely out of the blue, you tried getting in touch with him but your calls wouldn’t go through, you even tried the old fashioned way and sent him a few letters but never got a response. You tried asking your dad what happened but he refused to give you any details. As much as it hurt, you refused to let yourself feel bad and reach out over and over again when you got nothing in return. So you just stopped trying.
You went to college at UCLA where you played softball all four years and got your teaching degree in elementary education, you moved back home to North Beach where you got a job as a 1st grade teacher at Miramar Elementary School on base, thanks to a few strings pulled by your Uncle Ice to insure you’d be close to home.
You met Jake at the hard deck when you were 23 and he was 26, you had gone out to spend some time with Penny and your dad had just gotten back from a deployment so you all were celebrating. Jake had just graduated from Top Gun at the top of his class and came out with a few of his fellow graduates to celebrate. When you two locked eyes the attraction was instant.
Jake spent almost a month trying to get you to go out with him, you had heard of Jake Hangman Seresin’s reputation from your dad who heard it from Uncle Ice. So you wanted to play hard to get and make sure he actually wanted to be with you and not just get into your pants. He proved himself though when he took you out for a picnic on the beach followed up by a walk on the board walk with some ice cream.
You two dated for around 3 years before getting married, you had a small intimate ceremony with just your family and a few close friends. You two lived in a old fashioned farm house and turned it into your dream house, about a year into your marriage you adopted a golden retriever puppy from the pound named Lady and a tabby cat named Wendy and you two were fine with just being animal parents for a little while.
You spent these last 3 years of marriage building your family home. You and Jake decided to live permanently in San Diego regardless of his deployments. Jake worked as hard as he could for the Navy making a name for himself, while you worked just as hard at your teaching job welcoming kids into your class year after year who left feeling like your very own children. Maverick has his hangar around 20 minutes away from your house and you all have Sunday dinners every week without fail.
When you found out you were pregnant you were surprised but nonetheless thrilled, sure you two weren’t actively trying for a baby but you weren’t really doing anything to avoid pregnancy either. You immediately went to the doctor and got checked out learning that you were 8 weeks pregnant and left with a wide smile and some ultrasound pictures. When Maverick found out he was going to be a grandpa he just about passed out from excitement. But nothing beats Jake’s reaction when he found out he was going to be a father.
You had been anxiously waiting for Jake to get back from training, you found out about the pregnancy around a week ago and you were dying to tell your husband but wanted it to be memorable.
You brainstormed and then remembered the two things he loved almost as much as you. Your animals. You’ve seen other people use their animals as a pregnancy announcement and knew that this was the way to go.
You ordered Lady a thin sweater that read “Big Sister” and Wendy a collar that had baby booties on it since you knew better than to try to put your cat into a sweater, learning from past mistakes. You also found three of the cutest onesies at target, one read “my best friend’s have paws” the second one read “my daddy is a pilot” and the last one read “I love mommy and daddy”. You of course had to get all three, and you wanted to make a box to put them in so you got your pregnancy test and ultrasound picture and put it in the box on top of the folded onesies.
Jake is suppose to be home at 7 and it’s currently 6:50, you felt butterflies in your stomach as you sat on the couch with Wendy resting on the back of the couch near your shoulder and Lady laying across your lap asleep, with the box laying on the coffee table. You were excited but nervous about Jake’s reaction, you knew regardless he would be excited but you may have to scoop his unconscious form off the floor before the excitement hits him.
Before you could think much longer the door opened and both animals lifted their heads to look towards the door as Jake stepped inside. You quickly grabbed your phone and pressed record , wanting to get his reaction on video before urging Lady off your lap.
“Hey baby! How was your day?” You asked standing up
“It was something. I’m just glad to be home with my girls.” Jake smiled setting his bag down at the front door.
“We’re glad your home too. I have a surprise for you.” You smiled making Jake cock his brow
“What? It’s not my birthday, it’s not our anniversary, I didn’t get you anything.” Jake stressed making you chuckle
“This is for me too. Lady go see daddy!” You nudged Lady in Jake’s direction and the dog immediately stumbled towards Jake who squatted down with open arms while he was distracted by the dog you grabbed the box and held it patiently
“Lady girl! There’s my girl! What does mommy have you wearing? What is this?” Jake asked in a baby voice making you smile as he gripped the fabric to try and read it, Wendy had made her way over to the two and was rubbing her head against Jake’s leg purring. “Big Sister?”
You could see the gears in Jake’s head turning as he stared at the sweater before looking down at Wendy’s collar, his head snapped up towards you with wide glossy eyes.
“Baby? Is this what I think it is? Are you pregnant? Am I going to be a dad?” Jake asked slowly standing to his feet
“Open the box.” You smiled feeling tears burn in your eyes as you handed him the box. “Daddy.”
“Oh my god.” Jake mumbled as he looked at the contents of the box. “Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh baby!”
Jake carefully but quickly sat the box down on the ground before pulling you into his arms making you laugh tearfully as he spun you around.
“Oh my god! We’re having a baby! We’re having a baby! There is actually a baby inside of you right now!” Jake exclaimed cupping your face as your tears spilled over. “I love you so much. This is so perfect, I love you.”
“I love you too.” You smiled pulling him into a kiss
Jake has doted on you your whole pregnancy, he’s been to every doctor’s appointment, any craving you have he’s out the door to get it, any ache or pain he’s giving you a entire body massage, when your hormones are too much he holds you tight and litters your face with kisses, and pregnancy sex is out of this world.
You’d just hit your 7 month mark and felt like a whale, your ankles were swollen, your back always aches, your breasts are sore and tender, and you officially can’t stand or walk without supporting your bump because it feels like the weight of your bump is going to send you to the floor. You had recently just had a small gender reveal with your dad and some of Jake’s family and learned that you were having a little boy.
Jake has been busy training for the mission and your dad has been busy being the instructor for the mission, which has led to some long days and nights with Lady and Wendy as your company. You had heard from Jake’s nightly complaining that your estranged best friend Bradley Bradshaw is back for the mission and of course they’ve been butting heads, Jake is fiercely protective of you and after learning how hurt you were when Bradley tossed you to the side Jake made it his personal mission to be the biggest ass to him he could be.
Your dad had called you and told you about the fight between Jake and Bradley and how your name had been brought up, and that Jake bragged about how you were his. You smacked Jake on the head that night but quickly got over it when he brought up the idea of a hot bath and a back rub.
Today Penny had practically begged you to come see her, she was your favorite of all your dads conquests growing up and have always kept in touch she was more your mother than your actual mother. You hesitantly said yes, not really feeling like leaving the comfort of your bed but wanting to spend some time with her.
You took a shower and washed your hair and body, since your pregnancy makes you feel sweaty and disgusting at every moment a shower did you some good. You were feeling more energized after your shower so you even did your makeup routine and did a cute braid in your hair. You got dressed in a flowered blue sundress and some sandals and put your regular jewelry on, barley managing to get your wedding band on your swollen finger.
Since Penny loves Lady you decided to bring her with you, and Jake’s been training her since the beginning of your pregnancy to be your watch dog, a job that Lady takes very seriously. You got her in her harness and leash before grabbing your purse and keys and walking out to your white Rang Rover. You opened the passengers side door and patted the seat.
“Up Lady! Good girl!” You smiled giving her a treat and kissing the top of her head securing the leash to the seatbelt before closing the door and walking around to the drivers side.
You drove towards the hard deck with with windows down bobbing your head to your Taylor Swift playlist, the breeze blowing some of your flyaways into your lipgloss.
When you pulled into the hard deck you furrowed your brows when you saw both your dads bike and Jake’s truck in the parking lot. You got out of the car and walked around grabbing Lady’s leash and getting her out of the car before you two walked inside.
“Pen! Penny!” You called out seeing the bar empty
“Out here!” Penny called from the back deck
Lady jerked on the leash at Penny’s voice and you chuckled lightly before dropping the leash letting the energetic dog run out the back door.
“Lady!” Penny exclaimed as you walked outside seeing the golden retriever giving the woman some love. “Hey sweetheart, how you feelin?”
“Pregnant. Very pregnant.” You chuckled taking a seat beside her. “Whatcha doing out here?”
“Just taking in the view.” Penny smirked and you furrowed your brows before following her gaze to see the aviators on the beach playing football
“Oh. That’s why dad and Jake’s bike and truck are out front. I thought they snuck away to day drink.” You said making Penny chuckle
“Nope. They’ve been at it for about an hour. Jake’s already laid Rooster out twice.” Penny raised her brow and you chuckled
“That man. I told him not to be a dick, I swear he holds a grudge worse than any woman I’ve ever met.” You shook your head playing your hands on your swollen belly. “Your daddy’s a little bit of a drama Queen.”
Penny chuckled and turned her head back to the team of aviators and smiled when she saw them walking towards them.
“Looks like they’re heading this way.” Penny nudged your shoulder making you look up
Lady perked up when she first caught sight of Maverick, the dog stumbled in the sand towards him. Maverick smiled and crouched down allowing the dog to run into his embrace, licking his face in greeting.
“Lady girl! You’ve gotten so big in the last week, you just keep on growing.” Maverick smiled rubbing the dogs head
You got up with Penny’s help and walked onto the beach towards your dad, you saw Jake still down by the water with a few other pilots so you figured you’d make your way down to him.
“Hey dad.” You smiled as you walked over to him, Lady coming right back to your side
“Hey kiddo. How’s my grandson?” Maverick asked giving you a hug and kissing your forehead
“He’s being pretty lazy today, he hasn’t moved around much and when I pressed around to try to get him to move he just gave me one big kick basically telling me to shut up.” You chuckled rubbing your belly where your baby had just given you a kick, probably knowing you were talking about him
“It’s those Mitchell genes, he’s gonna be a stubborn one.” Maverick smiled gently patting your stomach
“God help us.” You shook your head. “How’s training going? I hope Jake isn’t being too much trouble.”
“It’s going. Jake’s being Jake. He’s definitely giving Bradley a hard time.” Maverick said
Jake was the one who put you back together, when you met you had some serious trust issues and were battling some depression as well. Even before you finally agreed to date him, Jake was always protective of you and when you finally opened up and let him in he swore no one was ever going to hurt you again.
“He’s just protective, you know that.” You sighed and Maverick nodded
“I know. I’m glad he looks out for you.” Maverick said looking slightly over your shoulder making you smirk
“You know, she still loves you.” You said making him snap his gaze back to you
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Maverick shook his head and you chuckled
“She’s been like my mother my whole life. I wish you’d make it official.” You said kissing his cheek before making your way towards Jake
“Y/N?” A voice asked from behind you making you pause, you knew that voice it’s one you’d never be able to forget no matter how hard you tried
You slowly turned around and saw Bradley standing in front of you, he was wearing his dads old aviators and some cut off jean shorts without a shirt. He’s grown up since you saw him last, now sporting the mustache that looked so much like Goose’s.
“Bradley.” You nodded managing a small smile, you felt Lady settle herself right on your side nearly sitting on your foot in a protective position
“Look. I don’t want any trouble. I know I screwed up so bad, cutting you out of my life was one of the dumbest things I’ve ever done. I was just so mad about what had happened that I didn’t even think that you might not of known about it I just decided that you had just as much to do with it as Mav and that was the end of it. You didn’t deserve that, I know that now.” Bradley sighed sadly looking down at your bump that you were cradling
“You’re right. I didn’t deserve that. I loved you Bradley, I honestly thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with you. You were my best friend and I know you were going through a rough time losing Carole and then your papers. But I lost her too, she was the closest thing I had to a mom and I loved her so much. I was grieving and then I lost you too.” You paused to clear your throat. “I don’t know. Maybe if you had stuck around I never would’ve met Jake, and I wouldn’t trade him and our life together for the world. I don’t want to bring my son into the world with any hard feelings, I don’t want any grudges to be passed down to him. So, I am willing to try and move past this. You were family once Brad, I think that maybe we could be that again.”
Bradley cleared his throat and looked away before looking back towards you.
“I would really like that. I’m happy for you kid, as much as I hate to say it I’m glad that you have Jake and happy that you found someone who will love and take care of you. I will spend the rest of my life trying to make this right, I promise.” Bradley said and you nodded reaching down to pet Lady when she nudged your leg
“I think we can do that.” You smiled softly one that Bradley mirrored
“Congratulations. I remember how you always talked about being a mom.” Bradley said gesturing to your stomach
“Thank you. It’s a little boy.” You smiled adoringly down at your stomach
Before anything else could be said, a familiar presence was felt behind you before arms wrapped around your waist and gently cupped your stomach pulling you back into a warm firm chest.
“Everything good here?” Jake asked leaning down to kiss the spot right under your ear
“Everything’s fine.” You nodded towards Bradley who nodded in agreement
“Yeah. Uh, congrats on the baby.” Bradley told Jake who nodded
“Thanks.” Jake said before taking Lady’s leash from your hands. “Want to get some food?”
“Yes. I’m starving.” You said and Jake chuckled taking your hand into his
“Let’s go then, I’m sure Penny would make you that burger you love.” Jake said pulling you towards the hard deck
“I’ll see you around.” You told Bradley who nodded watching as you left with Jake’s arm now wrapped around your waist
Bradley watched Jake lean down to kiss your forehead gently as he led you and your dog back towards the hard deck where everyone else was standing around the back deck talking. He watched your smile as you talked to Phoenix and Bob and as you were introduced to everyone else. He smiled softly, he fully expected to be filled with jealousy when he saw you and Jake together.
But seeing how happy you were, your bright smile and sparkling eyes as you cling to Jake’s side. You deserve the world and if Jake can give it to you then that’s enough for him.
Taglist
@daughterofthereaper02
@luckyladycreator2
@calpurniatypes
@littlebadariell
@qnfluvr
@raefoxiegirl
@maverick-wingman
@avada-kedrava-bitch
@army24--7
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antiquarianfics · 5 months ago
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Making Waves
Bucky gives you a pep talk when life’s beating down on you a little too hard.
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a/n: unedited as always. this is also just a comfort fic. just bucky making you feel better. this can be read romantic or platonic. whatever floats your boat.
warnings: sexist themes, profanity
note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.
You do not have permission to copy, repost, or translate my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and/or reblog.
»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««
“I thought I might find you out here.”
You sigh as you tilt your head up in acknowledgment of your intrusion, unsure if it’s welcome or not. In fact, you’re not sure how you feel about much at the moment. Your mind is swimming in uncertainties and insecurities that you feel a personal obligation to figure out or overcome. Nevertheless, you don’t protest the welcome/unwelcome (pick one, dammit!) company as it sits down next to you, providing a little warmth against the night’s cold to your right.
Your company had found you sitting alone on the beach, right at the shore, knees pulled to your chest, arms wrapped around your legs and holding them close, fingers anxiously fiddling with a ring on your finger, and staring at the waves as they crashed against the shore over and over again. The sea, you’d found, is calming. The repetitive nature of the ocean crashing against the shore and retreating back into itself feels honest to you. You may lie to yourself, the world may lie to you, but the sea? The sea will always find a way to reveal to you a hidden treasure you never knew you were looking for.
“That predictable?” You finally ask, responding to your newfound company.
You turn your head and make eye contact with your friend who’d come searching for you. You’re met with concerned eyes the color you’re certain the sea would be if it weren’t dark—the only light coming from the moon reflecting upon the water.
Your friend gives you a look, raising an eyebrow and pursing his lips. He’d found out the beach had become your favorite spot to run off to early on in your friendship, but he also knew you only ran for the beach when something was troubling you.
“You seemed upset,” is all he says.
“Bucky, I…” You trail off, not really sure what you meant to even say to him. What do you even want to say to him? That you’re upset by some media rumors about you? That you got your feelings hurt because a stupid clickbait article claims you’re dating a man you hate? That you feel like a failure as an Avenger, or a hero, or whatever the fuck you’re supposed to be anymore if all your worth to the public is tied up in who they think you have in your bed? You don’t finish your thought and return your gaze to the ocean.
Bucky is silent for a long while, just sitting and watching the waves with you. He is absolutely no stranger to needing to sit and sift through feelings, and he is also no stranger to unwanted media attention messing with his sanity. So, he lets you sit for a minute, but he also knows the longer that anger and frustration cook up inside you, the worse off you’ll be. You taught him that.
“Doll, you’ve gotta talk about it or it’s gonna eat you alive. You know that,” Bucky says softly. Empathetically.
“Bucky,” you whine, tired and still unwilling to talk.
“Okay, don’t talk. I will,” he says, swallowing nervously. He’s obviously out of his comfort zone, and you can’t help but look at him.
You let your eyes rest on your friend once more, and you take in his worried demeanor. His stormy blue eyes are set on the ocean, watching the waves as he gathers his thoughts. You realize, then, that he isn’t comfortable with what he’s doing—he’d much rather be listening to you talk. He’d much rather offer a small piece of advice after you talk, or maybe give you a hug and hope that fixes you. But he cares about you, and he’s trying to do the same thing you’ve done for him countless times: voice your observations about what might be upsetting your friend so that the problem is out and a solution can be found.
“You’re upset,” Bucky starts hesitantly, “because of a gossip piece that’s circulating the internet right now.”
You don’t argue with him, and Bucky takes that as confirmation.
“The gossip piece claims that you’re dating John Walker and dubs you the new “it” couple even though you hate the guy and punched him the face the last time you saw him.”
You laugh humorlessly.
“Then, that video clip from Walker’s interview started circulations where he all but confirms the rumors.”
You clench your fist in annoyance.
“That about right?”
“Yeah, that’s about it,” you say.
“I’d be angry, too,” he says.
“It’s just…” You trail off, closing your eyes tight trying to fight off tears. “It’s just that it doesn’t matter to them that I was an Avenger! It doesn’t matter that I helped defeat Loki, or Ultron, or Thanos. I’ve done so much for this city, and they don’t care. Not because they don’t care that New York was saved by the Avengers, but because the boy heroes are just better. I’m turned into an unwilling superhero eye candy, and, despite all my accomplishments, they can’t bring up my name without attaching it to a man’s. One of the articles doesn’t even mention my name! The article is really just titled ‘Mrs. Captain America?’ Like, really? I want to hit something.”
Bucky frowns, nodding as you rant and waiting patiently for you to finish. When you do, you’re breathing heavily, obviously worked up.
“You’re more than just ‘unwilling superhero eye candy,’” Bucky says, nose scrunching in disgust as he repeats your words. You can’t help it, but you laugh. The words sound so silly coming from his mouth. He smiles.
“You’re right. It’s really messed up that the public isn’t acknowledging all you’ve actually done to protect them, but you know that you’re more than that. That’s what matters. Because as long as you remember who you are, what you stand for, and what you do, then that person and her accomplishments are going to be noticed by the people who need to notice them. Do you know how many little girls probably saw you and Natasha fighting in all those fights and realized they could do that, too? When I was growing up, my sister didn’t have anyone like you to look up to. I wish she had.”
Bucky reaches up and wipes away the tears that are silently streaming down your cheeks. You reach up and haphazardly wipe away what he missed with the back of your hand. You hadn’t realized you were crying.
“Thank you, Buck,” you say. “I needed that.”
“I mean it, Doll.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead.
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incendiobrock · 8 months ago
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Boneyard Bash {JJ Maybank}
Summary: A twist to the boneyard scene where instead of JJ offering Sarah a drink, Rafe offers y/n one. This doesn’t sit well with bf JJ and a fight ensues but the gun is pulled on the wrong person.. ;)
Warnings: gun violence, language, physical fighting, drinking, smoking, slight mention of blood
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The past twenty-four hours consisted of a lot of concocting and illegal activities that you would rather not list out. You see, when John B, JJ, Pope, Kiara, and you run into a sunken ship, and the police won’t listen to you when you try to report it, matters are taken into your own hands. What started as a plan to figure out who’s Grady White sunk during hurricane Agatha- has turned into a money ring. 
“Can we please take a break from the illegal, money scheming antics? We’ve been at it all day, and I’m still dead serious about getting caught, I can not lose my scholarship!” Pope spoke, eyeing each and everyone of you as you sat around on the porch of the chateau. Kiara quickly agreed, John B and JJ almost getting caught at the motel was enough for her. 
“Either way is fine with me.” You stated, taking a hit from the joint that JJ had just rolled, blowing out the smoke and instantly feeling a sense of relief wash over you. You passed the joint back to your blonde boyfriend, allowing him to get a few hits of it as well. 
“We could hit up the boneyard?” John B suggested, a quizzical expression playing on his face. He knew that his friends never passed on the idea of throwing a kegger. 
“Now we’re talkin!” JJ cheered, his arm finding its way over your shoulders as you snatched the joint back from him. After your last hit you put out the bud, twisting the burning end into the wood of the porch, ultimately saving the rest for later. You all got up from your spots, heading over to the twinkie so you could pick up a couple kegs before heading to the abandoned part of the beach.
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The drinks were starting to hit you after downing two, and sipping on a third. Your body swayed to the music playing as a fire slowly burned in the background. You and Kiara had been dancing for awhile, talking about all the things that you never spoke of with the three boys. You were thankful that Kie was there, she was the one that made sure you kept hold of a little bit of your sanity. Out of ear shot, JJ sat next to Pope on a piece of old driftwood that had been washed to shore. His eyes watched you as you let out a laugh in response to something Kiara must’ve said, pure bliss radiating off of you. 
“Dude, you’re starring hardcore at y/n.” Pope chuckled, nudging his shoulder. JJ grinned, shaking his head a little as he looked down at his lap. He had a red solo cup in hand, also feeling the affects of all the beer he had consumed so far this night.
“I can’t help it Pope, I’m in love with her.” JJ responded, looking back up at you as the fire cast its light across your face, making you glow like a true goddess. 
You glanced over your shoulder, blushing as you made eye contact with your boyfriend from across the way. 
“Well, well, well... If it isn’t the wanna be Pogue and the Pogue princess dancing around the fire on this fine evening.” A voice spoke from behind you. You felt your smile instantly leave, recognizing who the voice belonged to without having to even turn around. 
“What do you want Rafe?” Kie asked, crossing her arms over her chest, sending death glares at the number one asshole in all of the OBX. Rafe scoffed, running a hand through his preppy, annoying, rich hair. 
“I actually didn’t come over here for you, as if that’s any sort of shock-” He spat, a red solo cup sloshing around beer as he used his hands for emphasis. “-I really only came over here to offer y/n a drink.” He finished his sentence, extending the cup out to you. 
“No thanks, I think I’m good.” You said rolling your eyes and turning your back towards the Kook. Despite you constantly trying to shut Rafe down, he would continue to talk to you any chance he got. All the Pogue’s had picked up that he had some sort of weird fascination with you, and it drove JJ mad. He hated that Rafe was constantly up your ass, despite the numerous times you told him you weren’t interested. JJ knew you could handle yourself, but it also just made him upset because you are his girl, and no one could get in the way of that.
“Oh come on... Where’s that little Pogue boyfriend of yours? Did he get himself thrown in jail yet?” Rafe pushed, causing you to turn back around.
“He’s right here you dipshit!” JJ yelled, quickly walking up to Rafe and punching him square in the face.  You and Kiara both gasped, watching as Rafe almost instantly fought back. He took ahold of JJ’s shirt, knuckles going white from the tight grasp, and throwing his towards the sand. JJ fumbled slightly, his back hitting the ground relatively hard, but he managed to get back up and tackle Rafe to the ground as well. 
“Rafe! Leave him alone!” You cried, watching as Rafe threw multiple punches at JJ’s face. He was lucky that he had been able to dodge a few of them. Before you knew it, John B, and Topper had joined in too. Each boy standing up for their respective friend but ultimately just creating a bigger fight. 
Topper and JJ were now the ones who were throwing punches left and right, John B struggling to pull them apart from each other. You had almost had enough of all the fighting, storming towards the four boys, a little unsure of what your game plan was. “Hey! Stop it!” You yelled out again, watching as JJ had once again hit Topper, his nose now gushing blood. Rafe broke away from the boys, coming straight to you and pulling you against him to where your back was flat against his chest. His left arm wrapped around your shoulders, your neck being trapped between the bend in his arm, keeping you snug against him. His right hand raised up, a cool touch of metal being placed against your temple.
Your body instantly froze, although you had never found yourself in this situation before, you weren’t stupid. Rafe had a gun. It had all happened so fast, you hadn’t even had the chance to try and fight back, and now you sure as hell weren’t going to. Who knows whether Rafe would actually use the thing or not... 
“Maybank! You better get your dirty Pogue hands off my friend! Or else!” Rafe said, the gun shaking against your temple as his voice rang out. JJ’s eyes immediately shooting over and seeing the tears forming in your eyes as Rafe’s gun was pressed flush against your head. Your hands were clutching onto the arm that Rafe was using to hold you in place, using him as support as your legs trembled beneath you. 
“Let her go man! This doesn’t involve her!” John B said, coming closer to the two of you. Panic written across everyone’s face, even Topper seemed scared. 
“Don’t come any closer! Tell them princess, if they come any closer I’ll shoot this gun right through your skull.” Your body shook, struggling to catch your breath as tears streamed down your face. Your eyes never lost sight of JJ’s as he stood and watched, trying to calculate his next move. Any alcohol in any of your systems was now long gone, feeling more sober by the second due to the severity of the situation at hand. 
“Please- just let me go...” You chocked, begging Rafe to stop. You had seen him angry before, especially towards you guys, but never to this degree. You could tell he was enjoying it too as he chuckled to himself. 
“Next time, maybe you should just be nice and accept my drink. That way we don’t have to end up in a little fight, alright princess?” He whispered in your ear, his lips brushing against your hair. You gulped, nodding your head up and down, hoping that this would be the end of his threats. “Good.” He whispered again, releasing your body from his grip and removing the gun all in one motion. You landed on your hands and knees, gasping for more air. 
JJ rushed to your aid, dropping down in front of you and cupping your face in his hands, causing you to look at him. “Oh my god, are you alright? Did he hurt you baby?” He asked, his voice breaking slightly, tears now filling his icy blue eyes. You shook your head ‘no’, unable to form a sentence. JJ helped lift you into a sitting position, cradling you in his arms. He rocked you slightly, running a hand through your hair, trying to help you even out your breath. 
“I thought I was going to lose you.” He whispered, the tears finally breaking their seal and gliding down his face. 
“I thought you were too.” You replied, letting out a strained chuckle. He smiled, relieved to hear your voice again. He took ahold of both of your hands, allowing you both to stand back up. 
“Come on, let’s get out of here.” Kiara said, coming to your opposite side, nodding towards John B and Pope. You both agreed, following her and the others back towards the twinkie. JJ held a firm grip around your waist, not ready to let you go again after what Rafe had almost done to you. You leaned into him, thankful that you hadn’t died. 
Once all five of you were back in the twinkie, and you were laying against JJ’s chest, he spoke once more, “If he ever puts a hand on you again he’s dead.” 
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theyhavetakenovermylife · 3 months ago
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Sex on the Beach (18+)
Fortnite!Michelangelo x reader
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A/N: I felt like I needed to write something for Fortnite Mikey. Just looked so empty without his name there, so here is a small one for you guys🧡
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All characters are aged up.
Warnings: Public sex, beach sex, use of daddy and baby girl.
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“You’re doing so good, babe”, Mikey groaned, watching where the two of you meet, his length disappearing and reappearing from inside of you, covered in your juices, dripping down the length of his member. Some of it was most likely sea water, splashing up against you from the calm waves, mixed with your juices.
Mikey tightened his grip on your hips, guiding your bounces on him, curling his toes in the sand, feeling the water against his angels. You were absolutely beautiful with your hair half wet, water droplets on your skin and the shining behind you.
“Shit, Mikey”, you gasped, holding on to his hands, leaning forwards, continuing your movements, bringing your chest closer to your boyfriend’s face. Mikey hummed at this, bringing his mouth to your chest, latching onto one of your nipples.
You held on to Mikey’s head, looking up to the stones behind him. Had it not been for the stones, someone would probably already have spotted you. But knowing your boyfriend, it wouldn’t have done too much to stop him.
One of Mikey’s hands went from your hip to your butt, giving it a good slap before grabbing onto your flesh.
“Oh, you’re in that mood”, you chuckled, running your fingers down Mikey’s head, down the back of his neck and onto his shoulder, making him let go of your nipple, and lean back in order to get a better look at you with a smile. He knew what words would come out of your mouth next. “Do your best, daddy”.
Mikey leaned his head back to let out a laugh that made your stomach flutter, before getting a hold on your chin with a soft grip, taking in that beautifully wicked smile you were giving him.
“You’re going to be the death of me, (Y/N)”, he smiled, taking in the way you started biting your lip.
“Nooo”, you said, faking a pout, wrapping your arms around his shoulder. “Don’t die on me. That will make me so sad!”
“Then you’ll have to keep my blood pumping”, Mikey joked, letting his hands rest on your ass once more. “Keep bouncing for daddy”.
You let out a small whimper before continuing your up and down motions on his length, the hands on your ass helping in lifting you up and down, going faster and faster, reaching deeper and deeper within you. His head reaching that sweet spongy place inside of you, creating dots before your eyes with each and every thrust into you. There wasn’t long till you would cum…
“You’re getting tight, babe”, Mikey groaned. “Are you getting close, baby girl?”
You moaned at the pet name, nodding your head almost in a desperate plea for release. “Yes”.
“You're going to be a good girl and cum for daddy?”, Mikey asked, bending his legs so that he could thrust up into you from below, making you moan even louder than before. If anybody was nearby, they would have heard you by now, and would with no doubt know what was going on.
“Yes, daddy”, you moaned, your voice breathy and strained, fighting for your sanity with each and every thrust into you.
Mikey smiled, pulling you close to his chest, his mouth just by your ear. “Then cum baby girl. Cum all over me”.
And you did. You came on Mikey’s member with a loud moan, holding onto his shoulder for dear life as the muscles of your abdomen tighten around him, as he continued to thrust up into you, chasing his own high, which came not to long after, making him moan into your ear, doing a few more lazy thrusts into you as you both calmed down.
“You’re amazing”, Mikey mumbled, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.
“You too”, you smiled, turning your head so that you could give him a peck on the lips. “Amazing, wonderful, the love of my life”.
“Watch what you say”, Mikey joked, his hand stroking your naked back in soothing motions. “Or I’ll go on you again”.
That made you sit up straight, and look at him with a devilish smile. “Don’t threaten me with a good time”, you said, before moving around in his lap, his member still resting inside of you, making him let out yet another moan with a smile.
“Like I said before, you’ll be the death of me, (Y/N)”, Mikey smiled, bringing you in for a sweet yet passionate kiss, before continuing your lovely time by the beach.
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obsidianbaby · 6 months ago
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Don't Love Me Like A Brother - Prologue
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Brothers Best Friend Series - PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1 -
series synopsis - ronnie's younger brother, tyler, is a famous youtuber & influencer and is best friends with the sturniolos. This series will be following ronnie's life as she befriends the triplets and catches herself developing feelings for a certain someone...
**series will contain smut as it develops but warnings will be added to those specific chapters
**found myself writing a few flashback chapters before present day just to build up the established friendships bc I'm impatient and don't want the slow burn to drain anyone 😭
warnings/notes - no smut in this as it's just the prologue to introduce y'all to the story.
a/n - starting this series and im very exciteddddddd i hope y'all fuck with a slow burn, friends to lovers best friends brother type beat. Buckle up mfs it's gonna be an angsty ride
a/n pt 2 - im not gonna share who ronnie develops feelings for just yet I want y'all to be on edge okok enjoy MWAH xx
__________________________________
PROLOGUE
ronnies pov
having a brother who's famous on social media is humbling to say the least.
The amount of fan girls who have followed my accounts just because they're obsessed with him makes me question many people's sanity (including my own).
But tyler is one of my best friends. And thank god for my dad, who from the jump, did not tolerate any misogynistic bullshit from my brother.
Raising two kids as a single dad after my mom passed away (before ty and I were older than the age of 5) was tough for him and he embraced the times when he needed support (like when i first got my period, bless his heart he bought almost every type of menstrual product off the shelf).
His values were the perfect structure for us to grow up following; respect, open communication, giving our best efforts to everything (even if the only effort we could offer up was a 60% instead of a 100%)
My childhood friends would always whine about how "chill" my dad was. And it's not cause he didn't care, (he probably cares too much) but he didn't want to shield us either, knowing we need to learn how to exist in the world without him constantly up our asses.
"As long as we can talk about shit at the end of the day then we're good" one of his favorite mantras he would spew to me and ty when we would get caught doing something you might call a "right of passage" as a teenager.
And since it was just the three of us, we've always leaned on each other a lot. Sunday family dinners at nans' every week, taking turns helping my dad at his shop after school (he's a car mechanic), movie nights every thursday night where my dad would close up shop early, setting up the projector in the shop garage and ordering us pizza. My brother has been a best friend to me since I held him in my arms at the age of 3 when he was born.
And of course, we have the usual chaotic fights to the death like most siblings do, him pranking me in the most annoying ways, me making fun of his dumbass, him eating all of my food, me stealing his cool clothes, him begging me to uber him around everywhere, etc.
But we also just really enjoy each other's company too; going on late night walks around town, sitting in bed staying up talking all night, playing mario cart for hours (id always kick his ass), going adventuring together to forests or beaches, hanging out at the skate park together (me laughing at him eating shit and him chasing me around trying to whack me with his board), us both ditching our friends to stay at home and yap to each other instead, us having campfires in the backyard with both of our friend groups together, working on restoring mom's 1967 ford mustang together that she left us when she passed.
So when he came to me a few years back, during the pandemic, asking my thoughts on him posting on youtube, I was in full support (after teasing him that no one would find him, an 18 year old lanky white boy about to graduate high school funny or interesting. I have to keep him humble ya know?)
But his first few videos on youtube went viral and his following kept growing daily, especially when he started posting on tiktok too.
He's had me (and even my dad) featured in his videos which i don't mind at all (since im the one that's editing them)
I can see why the internet loves him (i did help raise him of course).
But since he's hit over 3 million on youtube last year, he's been doing a shit ton of collabs with other influencers and youtubers; the sturniolo triplets, larray, emma chamberlain, jake webster, tarayummy, vinnie hacker, carrington, etc.
And these days I try to stay behind the scenes as much as possible, trying to enjoy my solitude away from the opinions of crazy fans. (why do they care so much about what im doing anyways?)
Yet he understands (thank god) and he's always inviting me to come hangout with the friends he's made through social media, and i can't lie and say i don't enjoy being in the company of such dope (and attractive) people.
END OF PROLOGUE
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a/n - hellooooo i have a few more parts already written for this but im gonna wait to see how this post goes first (because i have a dire need for validation and praise) anywaysssss thank you for reading mwah xx
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avoxrising · 11 months ago
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The Feral One • Ch 29
Finnick x Y/N
Series Masterlist Link
Ok one more chapter after this one then the epilogue! I still haven’t written the epilogue but as soon as I do the series will be published.
Content Warnings - Descriptions of killing
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Finnick left for 4 after the doctors had gotten your seizures under control and you’d commenced the rest of your treatment plan. They explained that they were most likely a permanent side effect of the capital’s experiment but you could help lessen their occurrence using a medication. You were hesitant to take any medication from the capital, but both Finnick and Beetee assured you it was safe.
All of the victors went back to their districts except for you, Johanna, and Peeta. It seems like the three of you were trapped in the capital all over again. You did have some freedoms, such as the ability to go outside and the ability to socialize freely, but it still felt like a prison.
Dr. Aurelius noticed how you were regressing in the capital and recommended the doctors release you early back to 4 where you could continue to meet with him over the phone. They were hesitant to agree but you promised to come back if your health worsened.
At the news of your release, Finnick hopped on the first train back to the capital. His project wasn’t 100% finished but he was glad you were coming home.
“Finn!” you squeal as he enters your room. Your stuff was already packed and ready to go with you to 4 in the morning.
He pulls you into a tight hug, inhaling the smell of your freshly washed hair.
“Hey love,” he smiles. “Are you ready to go home tomorrow?”
“Yes!” you reply, staring into those deep blue-green eyes you had missed for weeks.
You allow him to sleep alongside you that night, knowing that he is a safe person.
He’s your safe person, and you’re his home.
The next morning, Finnick loads your stuff onto the train and you both head back to 4. Mags and Annie were already there waiting for you.
The two of you spend the train ride curled up together on the couch, watching the scenery pass by in silence.
When you arrive in District 4, your whole world seems brighter. Paylor had pardoned you of the crimes the capital had charged you with, meaning you were no longer confined to your house. You were free.
Finnick grabs your bags and starts to pull you along down an unfamiliar road.
“Finn, where are we going?” you ask him.
“It’s a surprise,” he responds, smiling at you.
After a long walk, Finnick finally reveals the surprise.
Finnick had spent his few weeks back in 4 moving all of your things to a new house in the north of the district, along with Mags’ and Annie’s things into a house next door.
You stared in awe at the beautiful garden that wraps around the house, as well as the cobble stone path leading down to the beach.
“It’s perfect,” you grin, pulling him into a hug. “Thank you.”
“Anything for you, love.”
Your first few days home were a breath of fresh air. You went on morning walks with Finnick to help increase your strength and would finish your days laying on the beach with him, watching the last of the sunset over the horizon.
“Annie seems better,” you mention to Finnick as you both stare out towards the dying embers of the day. “She can sit in the same room as me for an hour without screaming now.”
“I always hopped you two would get along,” Finnick hums. He had watched for years as the two of you avoided each other like the plague, scared that all sanity would be lost if an encounter were to occur.
It had been hard for Finnick to convince Annie at first that you weren’t going to kill her. He remembers how terrified of you she was before she even entered the arena.
“I think that’s my biggest fear,” Annie had admitted to her mentor the night before her games. “Watching someone you cared about’s head get hacked off right in front of you.”
She had been mentally scared by the image of your kill in the arena. She remembers watching you decapitate Floyd while his district partner watched in horror, unable to stop it.
Annie never blamed you for your kill, at least not after she left the arena. But, seeing her own district partner go out in the same way left her with trauma that was unintentionally linked with you.
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pray4saint · 1 year ago
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Hello! Currently thinking about dteam and chuckle sammich honeymoon hc's! Where you'd go, what you'd do, how was IT was mm
dteam & chuckle sammy on their honeymoons
dteam masterlist & chuckle sammy masterlist & descrip. pg. 13+. gn!reader.
a/n. omg bae, i've got you! also thoughts like these are gonna be rotting my brain for the next month / nsfw versions: dteam / chuckle sammy
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dream
either hawaii or france.. idk what to tell you he's a cheeseball, sticks with the classics OR on the complete opposite, somewhere thailand (but for the sake of my sanity and writing ability we're going with kona, hawaii)
definitely picked a b&b over a hotel, he wanted the privacy for that first night as a wedded couple
leaving around 11am to go to beaches all day or go shopping
when you're out shopping, he always finds a way to not-so-subtly mention that you guys have just gotten married / he thinks he's subtle
standing in a pacsun, the cashier scanned the tags of the clothes you were buying, asking the usual customer service questions, ”how are y'all doing, did you find everything okay?” and you look up at your husband before nodding, but he still spoke up, ”doing good, we just got married, this is spouse, and yeah,” he turns to you, ”i think we found everything okay.” ”mhm.” you smile at his incessant need to announce that you're married.
tbh powerbottom!dream but in an absolutely sfw, fluffy way / how he looks at you with, essentially, heart eyes when he says something begging for your approval but also making it widely known that you're his and that you're married every chance he gets
dream most definitely has that 'nothing can bring me down' mentality while on your honeymoon
also in the evenings when the sun sets and you're sat next to him or on his lap, he thanks any and every higher power he's ever heard of that you came into his life because you're stunning and he loves you so much and can't imagine his life without you
doesn't even register if fans come up and ask for a picture until you point them out, he's just so invested in you
he also doesn't get on any of his social media except to post the occasional instagram story despite how much you told him it was fine and you didn't mind if he checked twitter or updated his snap story
”clay, aren't your fans gonna worry if you go MIA from twitter?” you set your notebook aside, turning to face him. ”no honey i'm gonna spend time with you, they can wait.” he smiles at you. ”yeah i know but-” ”no buts. they can wait.”
also he inevitably gets sick on the last day of your honeymoon, which is fine because you were getting tired of going out every day / you made him soup with the small amount of food you'd bought at the local costco and he finally took to twitter to tell them how wonderful you were being
sapnap
i think he's taking you on 2 honeymoons, the first is for two weeks in texas to spend time with his family, just so you know you can always depend on them when you need them
the other is for three weeks in greece; the people, the culture, the food, he loves it and he wants to surround you in it
probably picked a hotel over a b&b
also on all the flights, during airport security, in taxis/ubers, when waiting for flights, in the hotel, he kept repeating the same words
mrs./mr./mx. armstrong, he just loves saying it, SO MUCH
”i love you, [mrs./mr./mx.] armstrong.” your newlywed husband spins you in his arms, pulling you flush against his chest. ”i know mr. armstrong, and i love you.” you press a kiss to his lips, trying to get out of his arms to get back to unpacking your suitcase
i think for activities, lots of lunches out and dinners in
also a whole lot of museums and art galleries and ancient ruins, spending time talking about greek mythology and your own theories and opinions on it
sap also sometimes calls you bro on accident and you sometimes call him dude still and all you guys can ever say about it is 'it is what it is'
”what are you gonna get, bro?” he asks as he closes his own menu. he didn't even realise what he said, but the waiter did, and he just watched with intent, unsure of what was happening. ”i don't know dude, whatever you're having i guess.” you close your menu. the waiter speaks up, ”i'm sorry i know it's none of my business but uhm- are you two not, married?” he sounds nervous, as if he thinks he's interrupted some secret affair. ”wh- what? we're married. we've been married.” sap is the one to point it out, taking your hand in his. ”ah, it was just how you called each other 'dude', and 'bro'.” the waiter laughs nervously, walking away with the order written down. in unison, ”it is what it is.”
i also think he takes you shopping because he believes the people who gave you the best wedding gifts should also get a gift in return in addition to a thank you card
lots of hand swinging with your left hand to show off your ring, and hugging in lines, and kissing-bordering-on-making-out in public, he just has no reason not to anymore, you're married
george
george couldn't decide where you went for awhile, so he asked of your friends and his friends and ended up at first with iceland (this is george guys remember) but then changed his mind and picked italy and romania, one week in each
b&b >>> hotels with george, he prefers the privacy
he spent months before the wedding trying to learn the basics of the italian and romanian languages despite how widespread english is
definitely takes you out to eat A BUNCH, except for two nights in each country where you and him cooked dinner for yourselves
you can expect lots of late mornings and late nights with george, he just can't get enough of his new spouse
definitely emphasises your last name being davidson whenever there's a reservation or when he feels the staff is being a little too forward
”last name?” the host asked, eyes glued to the kiosk screen in front of him. ”mr. and mx. davidson.” your husband smiled at you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.
takes you to a store at the start of the trip so you have food where you're staying / bonus if you convince him to go to a farmers' market
every day of the trip you and him have set aside an hour to talk to your respective friends on the phone (he's louder)
also forgets to tell you that he booked a redeye for the first flight out of italy/romania because when he booked it he forgot he was planning for two people instead of just himself / he apologised a lot for it
”y/n i'm sorry, if i had been paying attention i would've booked it for later in the day tomorrow.” ”george, baby it's fine. i really don't mind. it's not like i'm going anywhere.” you flash him your ring with a smile to emphasise you point, to which he returns the smile before looking at his own ring.
he apologised again when the plane was about to take off
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ted
i think ted takes you to japan for your honeymoon, at least for a week to try those capsule hotels that you and him been dying to try for months
i think he wants to go see all sorts of attractions in japan; theme parks, cat cafes, boardwalks, boat tours, and maybe take you to see an anime film (my brain is rotted from wanting to see an anime film in japan im sorry)
he booked a hotel because in the moment, it felt the easiest
even in japan he would get recognised, but not nearly as often as he did in the states and he would kindly turn down any fan who wanted a picture because he was busy on his honeymoon
lots of small kisses; at the end of a boardwalk, right before you sit down at restaurants, when you get back to the hotel room, when he brings you coffee, tea, or water in the morning, just outside the restaurant when you're leaving, when you two depart in a mall for a set time of 20 minutes
i think he likes seeing the trending tags on twitter surrounding your wedding
”what'ya smiling at, like an idiot baby?” you ask him, drying your hair with a towel from your recent shower, as you walk around from where your suitcase was to where he was stood in the mini kitchen. ”'the nivisons,' we're trending honey, that's all. i think it's sweet.” ”you know coming over here and giving me a kiss is even sweeter.” his phone is on the counter and he's encasing himself around you so fast.
he definitely texted his married friends for ideas when he started to run out / also before you left he logged into your pinterest on your computer and looked for anything he could use as an idea
you guys start binge-watching a new show while on your honeymoon and made inside jokes about it (yeah you became that couple)
holds your hand when you're walking around and getting into taxis and doing pretty much anything in public because he's scared he'll lose you in a crowd
he talks to you like he would a child. ”don't let go of my hand.” ”i won't ted, don't worry.” you shake your head at his antics once he turns away.
books a later in the afternoon flight out so that you can sleep in and he can pack for you and wake you up and get you out the door slowly, without a huge rush and stress
charlie
charlie takes you to 2 places, to start, you get 3 weeks in bali plus a week in new zealand (jrr tolkien/hobbit/lotr fans are gonna love this one)
in bali, he rents a whole house, 1 bedroom & 1 bathroom with a rate of $110 (usd) a night
while you're there, he takes you to sightsee places like gunung kawi temple, pura lempuyang luhur, ubud monkey forest, tukad cepung waterfall and holy spring (tirta empul)
of course wherever you go he insists on holding your hand, just to keep you close by
”baby you gotta let go of my hand i wanna take pictures.” your husband huffs a small, ”fine.” he releases your hand, but his hands find perch on your waist while you take pictures of the water, or the shops, or the wildlife, whatever.
definitely asks if he can use some of the pictures you took for his instagram story (it's the most he's ever used his insta story) and you tell him yes but only if you get to pick them / also on the same note, if either of you snap anyone during your honeymoon or just take selfies in general, they're always of you two kissing or giving each other cheek kisses in the house or at a restaurant or at a location you're visiting
he spends a lot of time just looking at your ring and how the ring on your finger looks against his fingers and vice versa with his ring against your fingers
”charlie?” he looks up from your intertwined hands in surprise. ”hm, what?” ”whatcha thinkin' about?” ”mmm, nothin', just admiring you.” he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, making you smile and a small tint to cover your cheeks.
in new zealand it's a hotel but it's a hobbit hole hotel, complete with tours of everything new zealand could offer about the tolkien's lord of the rings/hobbit universe
more eating out here than in bali despite how much more expensive it is
(if you're not a huge tolkien fan:) lots of thank yous from him for putting up with the trip so he could enjoy it // (if you are a huge tolkien fan:) a ton of excitement for both of you during the entire trip, and lots of talking about your own theories as you learn more about the fictional world
also vlogging the new zealand trip with charlie >>>> / and cataloging the film in the airport just before your flight for you to edit when you get home
schlatt
canada. idc, canada, that's where you're going. or iceland. somewhere cold.
i'm kidding, he told you that as a prank and then took you to australia (i apologise if you can't stand the animals there but this is schlatt we're talking about c'mon)
hotel over a b&b because even he, being the big guy that he is, was a little worried about finding a massive spider in the bed
probably quite a bit of alcohol that first night as a married couple
”y'so- god sweets y'so pretty.” schlatt twirled you around with one hand, beer bottle in the other. you giggled, the alcohol affecting your words and actions. you kept one hand tangled with his while the other held a grip on your bottle of beer. ”j..y'so handsome, you know that?” he blushed, and it must've been the alcohol because your boyfriend– husband now, never got flustered over something as small as that.
there's one night where you two go out dancing and when he sees all the prying eyes of the men and women around you, he makes sure to emphasise your ringed hands, keeping one of his hands planted firmly on your side
somehow you ended up going to see some aniaml fight with schlatt and when it got a little.. gory, you'd cover your eyes with your hands and tuck your head into his shoulder or his chest
”you alright baby?” he asked, flicking his eyes between you and the fight, arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer. ”i guess. jus'wanna leave though.” you whispered up into his ear and he nodded, waiting another minute before walking out with you tucked into his side, repeatedly asking you if you're really okay.
schlatt who takes you out to dinner every other night, with the rest of the nights being used to talk to both his and your friends and watch films together
also schlatt who believes in taking turns making lunch; whether it be sandwiches (it usually is), or pasta, a frozen pizza, etc, you take turns, after all you're married now, everything is 50/50
you probably both get sick at the end of the trip from something you ate and at first you were really worried, but he got better after a day and you two days after that
i also one hundred percent believe schlatt wanted to get home as soon as possible and picked an earlier in the morning flight / him plucking you from the bed three hours before your flight so you could shower and get ready, finish repacking, etc
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pray4saint© do not copy, translate or repost my work without my express permission.
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3d-wifey · 8 months ago
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And They'd Find Us in A Week - Chapter 14
Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Word Count: 32.5k Synopsis: Here! Playlist: Listen up! Tag list: - @melancholicmelanin, @yvy1s, @glomp-me, @honethatty12, @swftlore, @hashcakes, @antoheartit, @finnickodaddy, @lilifl0wer, @antoheartit, @kermitcrimess, @persophonekarter, @aawdrea, @obaewankenobis, @xyxlyn, @meandurdaughtergotaspecialthing, @innercreationflower, @kisskittenn, @xngelsau A/N: 32.5k....uh, i...this is fucking crazy, years in the making basically. and tumblr let me post all of It!!!!
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Present (XIII)
THE ARENA; THE BEACH (4:10 am—4:23 am)
The female morphling gasps raspily in Peeta’s embrace as he soothes her and Finnick feels fuzzy, blurry around the edges. He turns his back to the display, his gaze sweeping the treeline. He can’t look—won’t look—as she takes her last breath. He doesn’t know her, but he can’t shake that feeling of helplessness. There’s nothing more he can do but watch as she dies. 
Would you have thrown yourself between Peeta and certain death just as readily as she did? Like Mags did? He grips his trident and tries to keep a grip on his sanity as well, but that’s a lot harder to hold on to than the metal in his hands.
The monkeys have all but disappeared back into the jungle. They wouldn’t come onto the beach, toppling over themselves as they snarled and spit at him. Finnick knows he’s threatening, a formidable enemy with his trident wielded as an extension of himself. Still, even he knows that shouldn’t have been enough to intimidate a rabid pack of apes with a preference for the blood of victors.
It was almost like they couldn’t come onto the beach. From what Katniss told him, the fog behaved similarly after they fell down the hill. Billowing upwards along an invisible barrier. 
She was so close to making it. Just a few more feet and Mags…
He feels his throat tighten, tears gathering behind his eyes. His nose will start running any second now, which means it’s a perfect time to collect Katniss’s arrows. He stays on guard, but there’s nothing—not one chitter or screech. He pulls blood-stained arrows out of monkey carcasses with the sound of cannon fire dogging his steps.
SECTION 6 (5:47 am—6:38 am)
You have no idea how long you’ve been roaming, but the sunlight sprinkling through the treetops tells you it’s finally morning. The sun isn't very high, yellow rays don't envelop you. Instead, you stumble under the lethargic blue hue between night and day.
You can see again, fully. That's an obvious plus. But, on the downside, the heat will only get hotter. Not that you’d be able to tell with how hot your injury has already made you. 
It’s gotten worse—you’ve gotten worse. It’s made you hazy, you’ve lost track of time. 
You escaped the blood rain, got separated, fought killer beetles, and skulked around like a fox with a lame paw, hiding in the shadows from any predators looking for an easy kill.
You left behind one of your sickles somewhere in the last mile. Having two weapons seemed like such a good idea when you had other people with you. But after being attacked, wielding them both has only been a nuisance. You could have placed it in one of the belt loops meant for weapons if it didn't pull at and weigh down your tourniquet.
You now hobble along on numb legs as you apply pressure to the wound, pressing your free hand against the blood-soaked cloth you have tied around your waist. 
Between now and the bugs, you had received a sponsor gift. Some sort of thinly sliced dried meat and a seeded roll from Eleven. You hid yourself in the thick underbrush and scarfed it all down; there was no time to savor it while you were so vulnerable.
You’re still vulnerable.
As if being alone in an arena deadset on killing you isn’t bad enough, your injury, and whatever is in it, has you moving at half your normal speed. But, for better or for worse, you haven’t come across anyone else. You know not to expect anyone from your original group, but you haven't seen anyone. Your only company is the pounding in your head, the burning in your side, and the odd little creatures that scamper in the trees. 
You thought, perhaps, you’d come across Chaff and whatever’s left of his group. You know from last night that he didn’t die in the bloodbath. The same can’t be said for the male morphling. You sigh, long and heavy. 
So much for trying to learn his name.
You remember how it felt to see Cecelia’s face in the sky. Cecelia and old man Woof, his mind hardly there but still hellbent on keeping her safe. Your throat reflexively tightens. You hadn’t thought she would make it far, but you had hoped—you shake your head. You don’t know what you hoped for, but you can’t help but think of her three children clinging to her as she was reaped and your own mother’s scream when you volunteered. 
Dropping like flies, all of you.
You stop for yet another break. Eyes squeezed tight as you gasp in the muggy air—you’re winded. Again. You wipe your forearm across your forehead, sweat wetting the dry blood. It runs down your hairline, dripping a salty mixture into your eyes and mouth.
You can’t keep going on like this. At this rate, you’ll succumb to your injuries before anything else kills you, and, had it not been for the revolution, you’d be fine with that. Dying in the arena was your plan as soon as you raised your hand to volunteer. But things are different now; your plans have changed, and you refuse to break your promise to Finnick. The only way out is through. And your only way out is by getting sponsored. 
You can’t mistake survival for self-sacrifice, which is what this is. Survival. You’ll lose no part of yourself in return for their help.
They’re not taking something you haven't already given—that they haven't already taken before. 
You lower your head, feigning exhaustion as you catch your breath, though you don’t have to act much. Subtly, you adjust your hand, ensuring any movement escapes detection. At most, it might look like your fingers are involuntarily twitching, disguising the deliberate pressure you're applying to the wound. The pain makes tears spring to your eyes, but that isn’t enough. They need to feel your anguish like it's their own. With a grimace, you dig deeper. Your body flinches away from the feeling, but you don’t let yourself get far. Your nails, trimmed and well-kept, still manage to cut into the fabric, aggravating and stretching one of the already gaping wounds. 
It's an odd feeling—the strike of pain in a place you never imagined you could feel it, fingers worming around like a flimsy stick wrapped in barbed wire. An even odder feeling to scratch at something that was never meant to be felt.
You sob, abandoning any attempt at stifling your groans and ragged breaths. Tremors wrack your body, muscles spasming weakly under your merciless touch. There's a harsh rasp in your lungs, labored breathing, a tang of something metallic. The relentless pressure sears through you, yet you persist. You continue to wiggle your fingers around until you feel the warm trail of tears tracing your cheeks.
You look to the sky and swallow your pride. You’ve done it your entire life; what’s one more time?
You can imagine how you look now. Your face streaked with tears and blood, a mix of desperation and agony etched upon your features. The rivulets of red fluid mingling with teardrops, tracing sorrowful paths down your cheeks. The pain and exertion must be painting your expression, your eyes wide and brimming with torment, the viscous liquid obscuring the once familiar contours of your face. And you top it off with a pitiful pout.
“Seeder, please—please! I need…I need…somethin’. Any—anythin’.” You hiccup, gesturing toward your likely festering wound. “I need help. I don’t wanna die.” You allow your face to screw up in anguish, really playing it up. After all, it’s not actually Seeder you’re performing for. 
"Please." Your plea, a soft sniffle, is barely audible, and it's almost comical how quickly the package arrives. They were waiting, just like you thought. Waiting for that moment of surrender.
That familiar three-note tune pings from above you. The sponsor gift floats down languidly as if it has all the time in the world, as if you aren't being slowly poisoned. 
You move closer, but it's stopped before it can reach its destination. Instead of falling before you like it should have, the package hangs precariously among the branches. You scan the mess of white, brown, and green. The parachute has gotten tangled in the lower canopies.  
“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.” You bemoan. 
You stare despairingly up at the package. It tweets that little tune, taunting you from its high perch, and it won’t shut up until you get it. It’ll only draw attention the longer you stall.
From down here, the climb seems daunting, but you’ve climbed higher than this in Eleven when you were younger, starved, and overworked.   
You touch the trunk and the bark is different than what you're used to, but it’s still firm enough that you have faith it’ll hold your weight without breaking. The bark back home is rough and sap-sticky with little to no give. These trees are somewhat slippery and damp from the excess humidity, no doubt. 
You swallow hard against the rising nausea, your fingers gingerly probing the covered wound as you attempt to ground yourself. Your arms tremble as you leave your weapon among the gnarled roots. Your side sears with a raw hurt that pulsates with each breath, made worse and reopened by your little stunt. With that at the forefront of your mind, the urgency of retrieving the parcel tethered between the two trees outweighs the agony.
With gritted teeth, you reach out for nearby branches, using them as anchors. The mud-slicked roots serve as precarious footholds, threatening to betray you with each move. Each upward pull sends fiery jolts through your injured side, but you ignore the throbbing ache, fingers finding purchase in the deep grooves. You wince, fighting against the dizzying waves threatening to overwhelm you. You realize, perhaps a bit late, that you've been overestimating the adrenaline's ability to numb the pain. You claw your way up, inch by agonizing inch. 
It’s within sight and then within reach. It hangs above you. You position yourself a little higher until both feet rest on one branch. You shimmy, your chest pressed against the trunk as you hug the tree with one arm. Your other arm stretches up, fingers barely brushing the bottom of the silver canister. You pant open-mouthed as the stretch brings your attention back to your injury, destroying the brief blissful second you forgot about it as you came upon your gift. 
You relieve the pressure along your side by pushing to your tiptoes, batting at it like a cat, before you’re finally able to get it in your grasp. It’s a dodgy hold at best. Only your thumb, middle finger, and ring finger have any real grip on it as you attempt to shake it from the branches. It’s not enough. The tendon in your forearm flexes as you rock back onto your heels, using your full weight to dislodge it, and it feels like the entirety of your abdomen twinges with the reintroduced stretch.
But the suffering was worth it. You got it, bringing it to your chest, relishing in the feeling of cold metal in your hand. Each breath is a pained gasp as tears blur your vision. Whether they’re from pain or relief is anyone’s guess. You can't help but smile, laughing with each pant. It's a small accomplishment, barely an accomplishment at all, but—"You did it. You fuckin' did it." 
You steady yourself before opening it and reading the attached note.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      
A rose by any other name is watered just the same.
You flip it around and it reads:
For the venom. Drink up.
- S
The price of medicine in the Games is nothing to scoff at. And who knows how much the prices may have inflated for a Quarter Quell. You'd like to pretend that one of your higher-end patrons sponsored this. That Seeder pulled this together through numerous donations. 
But you know better. 
Snow is supposed to be impartial regarding who survives in the arena. The president sponsoring someone is unheard of, but you know the man better than most. You know what echoes through that dark abyss he calls a soul. There’s always a way around, a way to cheat if you have enough power. It wouldn’t surprise you if he bent the rules in whatever way benefited him. In fact, you know he did. And it seems your survival benefits him. You’re no use to him dead.
Volunteering wasn’t enough to escape him. You’re alive, because he allows it—in the arena more than ever. Your life isn’t even yours to take. It’s his.
You'd throw up if you could afford to lose the food in your stomach.
You pick up the bottle from the canister. It's clear and about the size of your palm. There’s no label, no indication of what may be in it. You pop the cap and sniff it. It smells herbal, almost minty. When you bring it to your lips and tip it back, it goes down fast, leaving an oily film on your tongue. It has no taste.
You wait. You aren't expecting it to instantly fix you, but wouldn’t it be lovely if it got rid of the nagging ache in your wound and the sheen over your vision? Or maybe just your migraine? 
With a sigh, you close your eyes as you thump your forehead rhythmically against the tree, not helping your headache in the slightest. 
Something is bothering you—something you can’t understand. This antidote. Why would this even be a sponsor gift? Sure, at face value, it’s just medicine—there’s tons of medicine a mentor could send in—but it isn’t, not really. There are salves and sleeping aids—those sorts of things. Things that’ll assist a sick or injured tribute, but they won’t cure them. 
This? This is quite literally a cure. What fun would be in that? Where’s the entertainment value? Wouldn’t betting on the stakes lose its appeal if there was something a mentor could buy to instantly get rid of them? 
Did he…? No. No, he couldn’t have. But nothing else makes sense. He must have had it made after you were attacked. For the venom, he knew exactly what was causing your rapid decline—something that can’t be picked up through the camera. The only reason you know those beetles left a toxin in you is because you feel it. You doubt something like this is even available to buy in the shop. If someone else gets poisoned by those bugs, they’ll no doubt die. But not you. Because of Snow, you’ll survive something that should be a death sentence.
He’s cheating. For you.
You look to the ground and contemplate, only briefly, if a fall from this height, in your current state, would be enough to end it all. If you aim for your head or neck, would it kill you instantly or paralyze you? 
It’s because of these morbid musings that you’re able to catch it—the man barreling through the jungle through vines and low branches—but you surely would have heard him with how loud he is. You freeze like a deer, hardly breathing as he stumbles over his own feet. 
The man from Ten. 
He's not a part of the alliance. And it’s just your luck that he falls below you, crashing face-first onto the ground hard enough for you to wince. He crawls up, panting loudly as he spins in frantic circles before focusing back on the direction he came from. It's almost like he’s being chased—
Whoever is chasing him enters your line of sight like they read your mind. Not who, you correct yourself, because the thing stalking forth is certainly not a person. You see its vague, hulking shape in the low light.
You don’t know if it’s something native to the jungle, a mutation of an existing animal, or a completely original mutt. It’s bipedal, bigger than any human you’ve ever seen. Bigger than any bear you’ve ever seen. 
He’s gonna make a run for it, you can see it in his tense stance. It’s a horrible decision, but the only one he can make. The urge to warn him not to turn his back on that thing, because it will give chase, is strong enough that you have to bite your tongue, iron bursting in your mouth as your canines dig in.
He tries to run again, but, as you predicted, it easily catches up to him with its much longer strides. He dives down to grab something off the ground. A fallen branch—nothing you could have picked up as weak as you are right now. He aims it at his pursuer. 
“No! No! Stay–stay back! Back,” he swings the stick threateningly, unbalanced by its heavy weight, and you remember being in a very similar position in your first Games. Your heart seizes at the reminder. The glassy-eyed desperation in the other tribute as he ran towards your scythe, the sound he made as he held his intestines, the resistance, and then the sudden give of his neck under the knife—you barely register dropping the metal canister, distracted as you are. It tumbles down a branch before getting stuck in its leaves. 
The thing freezes and perks up at the sound, listening intently, before seemingly letting it go. Go for the kill you do have over the one you could.
The man warns it back again, and to the astonishment of both him and you, it listens. A momentary pause follows, during which the beast regards him with an uncanny semblance of animal intelligence, only to abruptly lunge forward. The beast is unnervingly silent as it moves, despite its enormous size. He tries to flee again, but this isn’t the terrain for a fair fight. From this height, it’s hard to tell if his legs get caught on vines or ensnared by a dead log, but he tumbles again. In an eerily swift motion, the creature seizes his waist, effortlessly hoisting him into the air, holding him aloft like he’s a doll.
You watch on in horror as it grabs his shoulder, claws digging into where his upper arm meets the joint of his shoulder blade, and pulls, wrenching his left arm out of the socket. His scream is blood-curdling, echoing back through the trees so clearly that it sounds like jabberjays flying around you. Despite that, it doesn’t drown out the sound of his severed arm hitting the ground.
You’ve heard a mountain lion and their vixen screech before, their mating calls that sound like a woman shrieking in pain. They could be heard from miles and miles away and you would know not to wander too far into the woods for a while. His screams put them to shame.
Its claws are like a hot knife cutting through butter as it tears through his flesh with ease. It shreds muscle and tendons with a sickening squelch. You slap your free hand against your mouth, digging your fingers into your cheek. You want to climb further up to escape having to witness the carnage, but what if it hears you?
You glance down to where you left your weapon on the ground. Why the hell didn’t you bring it with you? If you had, maybe you could’ve helped him. Could’ve thrown it at the beast’s head or dropped it for the man to use. As it is, it’s too far away to be of any use to him. You’re no use to him. You’re helpless. You can do nothing more than watch and you feel sick with this strange, unplaceable guilt. He isn’t your ally, you shouldn’t care, but you do. You care a great deal.
You make the mistake of making eye contact with the man and you wish it were still nighttime. You wish you couldn't see and you were only left with the sounds and your imagination. You wish you hadn't seen the palpable desperation in his eyes. You wish you hadn't looked down and saw a human staring back. 
“Help me! Please!” He lifts his remaining arm towards you as if you can do anything of significance. As if all you need to do to save him is reach down. “Please!” The Beast doesn’t seem to understand English since the man’s pleading doesn’t draw its attention up to you. Or maybe it’s just too busy relishing in its kill. 
“I’m sorry.” You whisper an apology, shaking so hard that you're scared you’ll fall out of the tree. You turn your head away as the Beast starts pulling at the man’s legs, forcing him into a position he shouldn't be in if the series of pops are anything to go by. 
His screams become piercing. You close your eyes, pressing your forehead into the rubbery bark. You’ve never been an awfully curious person or particularly morbid by nature. You’ve never wondered what it sounds like for limbs to be ripped off the body, but now you know. 
Stop. Stop fighting. Just die. Just die, please, just—
There’s a sound of what can only be entrails hitting the ground. 
You whimper, slapping your other hand against your mouth to stifle a sob. Sniffing and chest hiccuping loud enough that it might draw its attention. Luckily, the man’s agonized screams of pain distract the beast.
You start counting, shaky mumbling muffled by your hands. You keep getting interrupted by the wailing from below. 
It takes under two minutes in total for him to stop screaming. Screaming for help, screaming for mercy, screaming for his mother, his father. It’s replaced by the groans of a dying animal, a death rattle mixed with what you can only assume is the beast playing in the mess it’s making. 
It takes another forty-three seconds for the cannon to fire. 
The nearly silent, but not quite, sound of the hovercraft is the only thing that convinces you to open your eyes. You chance a glance down and it is horrific. It’s what you imagine the aftermath of the blood rain looked like. Your brain can’t make sense of it. It’s almost like you’re staring at a complex math problem you never learned to solve. You can only see the numbers and the symbols, but not the equation they’re making up. You can’t see how this barbarity used to be a human being with thoughts, and feelings, and hopes, and dreams, and people who cared about him.
The claw drops down to pick up his remains. The light shines down, and it’s in this faint light that you're able to get a better look at the beast. Its dark blond fur works terribly to hide the blood stains, which it’s covered in. It’s congregated on its hands, arms, stomach, chest, and legs, but not on its face. That has to count for something, right? That it didn’t…didn’t eat him. It has to count for something.
You push yourself flat against the trunk of the tree, but it doesn't even look in your direction. Still, you try to make yourself as small as possible as the giant thing lumbers off. Just in case.
The hovercraft claw drops down five times to collect the man—a leg, another leg, an arm, a torso, a head—
The ground isn’t safe. That much is clear. 
You told Rue she’d be safe in the trees. Maybe you should take your own advice. It takes you a while to finally move. To convince yourself that, while you’re not safe by any stretch of the word, the beast isn’t coming back for you. Your muscles are sore from being tensed up for so long, joints stiff and aching as you move out of your position.
As you push further up the tree, something makes you pause. You strain your hearing, listening closer to your surroundings. It’s completely quiet now. Even when the beast came thundering through, the animals were still around like nothing was amiss. Yet, now, no bugs are chittering, no birds chirp above you, and no small critters scurry in the foliage. The jungle is completely silent. 
It’s strange because it sounded like someone was calling your name, but that can't be right because that voice—
You whip your head to the right. You heard it again. 
You squint, your eyes moving rapidly to spot anything through the underbrush. It's still quite dark—dark enough that it feels like you're peering through a pitch-black pool. But you swear you can see a shape, a black mass stalking through the trees.
And whatever it is, it's calling your name.
You grab an especially thick branch, your stomach turning as you clamber up. It’s a desperate climb as you propel yourself up the tree, ignoring your body’s protests. 
You put your foot in a crevice of the tree trunk, but your wound throbs with the stretch, and your foot slips. You wheeze like you've been punched in the gut, footing faltering on the slippery bark and sending another tremor of agony through your injured side. You react in enough time to tighten your grip so you won't go plummeting to the ground.
You breathe deep and try again, leaning forward to account for the pain in your side.
You grow light-headed as whatever that thing is stalks forward, but by the time it comes close enough for you to see it, you're already perched high on a thick branch—straddling it so you can observe it.
You look down at the animal and big, brown eyes stare up at you. Big, brown human eyes. The light peeking through the trees illuminates its black fur and when it finally stops moving, you're able to get a good look at its face—a familiar face. You don't know how, why, or from fucking where, but you know it. You know that face.
It stands up on its hind legs, clawed front paws leaning on the tree. Not like an animal, it stands almost like it's human and like the beast and—what the fuck is it?
Its collar turns—its collar?
“What the fuck?” You whisper, staring with your mouth agape. Why the fuck is it wearing a collar?
Its collar turns with its movement, revealing the number ‘11’ and the insignia for the district.
It opens its mouth and calls out to you. You see its too human tongue and too human lips fold around the syllables and your ears ring with recognition.
It sounds like, like Rue?
That's exactly who it sounds like and now that you've given a name to the voice, the resemblance jumps out at you.
That's her face, her little face, meshed with the monstrosity of the Capitol. And those are her eyes so big and trusting—so uncanny and so human—that you're almost certain those really are her eyes.
It's horrific and cruel; it's inhumane and revolting—it's the Capitol and its hatred staring up at you.
She couldn't even find peace in death.
You grind your teeth together as it scratches at the tree, its voice growing more desperate the longer you watch it. It—it isn't being aggressive like mutts normally are. Not like the beast from before. It's whining like a dog, like a child, like it's hurt.
"Please, don't leave me down here!"
Your resolve falters. Maybe, maybe they found a way to bring tributes back. Maybe Rue really is in there, trapped. And if she is—
This is what they want. They want to bait you, bring down your defenses, and make you vulnerable. If you go down there, it'll tear you apart instantly. Leave you in pieces.
And if that doesn't work, they'll torture you with her voice. Torment you with what they made her into.
You pull your legs up on the little space the tree provides and close your eyes, ignoring the sting of dried blood cracking apart and retearing your wound open. She doesn't like that; her little voice grows monstrous. You don't bother looking down.
You wish you could cover your ears, but you need to be able to hear if something approaches—something else. 
This is hell.
THE BEACH (10:04 am—9:07 pm)
Johanna has no idea how much time she spent searching for you before she decided to just cut their losses and head towards the beach. And, of course—of course—Beetee became too faint to walk on his own two feet, forcing Johanna to drag him through the vines, underbrush, and whatever the hell else was on the jungle floor. 
Her feet finally sink into the sand and she almost cries. The breeze carries the salty smell of the water and each breath of air is already thinner and cooler than any she’s taken since walking into the jungle. The dramatic shift from solid ground to soft mounds is disorienting but not enough to stop her. She keeps walking forward when she realizes she’s the only one carrying Beetee’s weight anymore. She drops him once they’re a few feet away from the tree line. There’s no telling what else could be in there and he makes for an easy target. She looks down at his blood-caked form, scrutinizing him. His eyes close behind skewed glasses, his face slackens, and—he’s passed out. 
He is completely unconscious. 
“Great. This is just—ugh!” She stomps her foot, kicking up sand. You’ve disappeared off the face of the Earth, Blight is dead, and Beetee is well on his way to being next. “This is shitty. This is so shitty.” She snarls down at Beetee’s unresponsive body—soon to be his unresponsive corpse, she’s sure.
And Wiress—Johanna sighs.
Honestly, she’s surprised Wiress didn’t wander off at some point. Instead, she almost walked herself in circles around Johanna. You’d probably say she reminded you of a bird or something, but if anyone asked her, she’d say it was more gnat-like. Just consistently buzzing nonsense into Johanna’s ear—tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock—God!
Wiress circles near her—gnat, gnat, gnat—and Johanna is fed up with just about everything, but especially this. She shoves the older woman down onto the warm sand and she lands next to her district mate, acting for all the world like she wasn’t just pushed with a considerable amount of Johanna’s strength.
She knows that isn’t what you would do; this isn't how you’d handle the situation if the roles were reversed and you were the one stuck with the invalids. You would probably find a way to treat Beetee's injury so he doesn’t fucking die. Then, you’d tend to Wiress with kid gloves and figure out some way to fix her in the process. But you aren’t here and that’s sort of the entire problem, isn’t it? 
She searched for hours and there’s no sign of you. She’s worried; of course, she’s worried. The number of people Johanna actually gives a shit about can be counted on one hand and she’d still have fingers to spare. You happen to be one of them.
When she first won her Games, Johanna hadn't been looking to make friends. Prickly and irritable, she didn't hold back from making this known. She was condescending and scathing and vindictive—she still is—but you just kept coming back.
And then something changed.
Johanna had made the mistake of underestimating just how much Snow hated when things didn’t go his way—just how much he hated to lose. But Coriolanus Snow always got his pound of flesh, whether it was given willingly or not. 
She refused his offer and her family paid the price. Her mother, her father, and her big sister were all taken from her and killed on the president’s orders—framed as a freak accident with them as the only casualties. At sixteen, she was a victor with nothing but three graves to show for it and a fury burning in her chest like a forest fire, never to be extinguished.
So she lashed out, striking at anyone who got too close to her with cutting words that were meant to hurt as much as she did. She kept her distance and she tried to convince herself that it was much better that way. That being alone was her choice. And yet, you were there. You were there despite how much she claimed to want otherwise. And you brought Finnick along with you.
Finnick, who just so happens to be another one of those counted fingers. What is she supposed to tell him? 
Oh, hi, Finnick. Why isn’t the love of your life with us? Yeah, we kinda lost her hours ago. Absolutely no clue where she might be or if she’s even alive. Oops.
Yeah, fat chance that doesn’t end with him walking into the ocean, never to be seen again.
She knows you’re not dead. She just needs to find you. She refuses to put another finger down.
Johanna stares down at her allies—her dead weight, more like—as Wiress climbs to her feet, heading straight for the water. If the revolution didn’t need these two so badly, she swears she would’ve drowned them herself to get it over with. If it weren’t for them, she could’ve covered more ground in her search for you like she wanted without having to keep a leash on Nuts and carry Volts. That’s the only thing keeping her here on the beach instead of in the jungle looking for you like she wants to. 
“Johanna!”
Her head whips up, looking over her shoulder at the quickly approaching figure. “Finnick!”
The relief is almost blinding. Or at least, it would be if it weren’t for the guilt. He descends the slight hill and she sees him looking for you, eyes searching and finding nothing.
She starts prattling off before he can say anything. She doesn’t know why, maybe to buy herself some time before she’s asked the question she doesn’t want to hear and forced to give him the answer she doesn’t want to give.
“We thought it was rain, you know, because of the lightning, and we were all so thirsty. But when it started coming down, it turned out to be blood. Thick, hot blood.” Just describing it makes her remember it all in disgusting detail, makes her sick. Wiress fluttering around certainly doesn’t help.
“Johanna—”
“You couldn't see, you couldn't speak without getting a mouthful. We just staggered around, trying to get out of it. That's when Blight hit the force field.” She gestures roughly to the jungle, but Finnick is already looking, eyes combing the treeline as if you’ll come hobbling out any second now and she feels a bloody bead of sweat drip down her neck.
“Johanna—”
“He wasn't much, but he was from home.” 
“ Johanna!” He shouts, scaring Nuts into a brief, but blissful silence. Honestly, she’s more surprised he lasted as long as he had without fully cutting her off.
“I’m sorry about Blight, Johanna.” He says, all at once calm again. “Where’s Star?”
Let it be known, Johanna Mason has never found a bush she was willing to beat around, even one as prickly as this. "We lost her in that blood shower." People have called Johanna many things since she became a victor, namely a vindictive bitch—which was more true than not—but no one can ever claim that she’s cruel. She doesn’t enjoy watching the color drain from Finnick’s face, and with it, whatever tentative hope he managed to hold onto. She’s quick to add, “She didn’t hit the forcefield, I know that for sure. It was nearly impossible to see anything, but the hovercraft only picked up Blight.”
Peeta and Katniss come up to them, but no Mags. No response from Finnick either.
“Finnick?” She prods, but he doesn’t reply.
She prepared herself for any reaction he may have. Crying, running off to find you himself, letting himself get carried away by a current, a combination of all three. She doesn’t know what to do with no reaction at all.
He’s silent as he stands alarmingly still, face clear of any discernible emotions. She regards him warily despite her concern winning out over the caution. She’d seen enough animals freeze up just like this before striking. Not that he had ever acted like that before and he’s not the kind of guy to take his anger out on others, but…grief isn’t logical.
Finnick stares off somewhere over her head sightlessly. She might as well be having a conversation with the crashing waves and the salty breeze. He doesn’t answer when she calls his name again. He doesn’t say a thing. And then, all of a sudden, he drops all at once like whatever’s been holding him up has been cut at the root, strings snipped abruptly. 
She and Katniss move forward on instinct to try and catch him, but he crashes down into the sand on his ass faster than either of them can move, his trident landing beside him. She blinks, then blinks again as he collapses in on himself. His back takes on a miserable curve as his elbows lie propped up on his bent knees. He looks completely gutted and Johanna can tell the drastic shift in his behavior has left Katniss confused, but not Peeta. Peeta stares down at Finnick with more pity than she’ll allow herself to show.
"Jesus, Finnick, I'm not saying she's dead. She's just by herself.” Which is almost as good as dead in here. Johanna squats down beside him. She grabs the back of his neck when he won't look up, getting in his face until he has no choice but to meet her eyes. They’re watery and it’s the closest to crying she’s ever seen him. "But she can survive, you know that. She’ll find a way, she always does."
She throws in a scoff like it’s ridiculous that they’re having this conversation in the first place, leaving out the panic she felt when she realized they had lost you. 
“...Right.” He croaks. He doesn’t nod. But he isn’t crying either, so she’ll take it. He sniffs and she worries he’s about to prove her wrong. “Yeah. Yeah, um. You’re right.”
“Let’s just try to stay in one place. Let her find her way to us.” She gives him a pointed look. Meaning no running off.
He doesn’t say anything else. He just continues to stare down at the sand. She'll cut him some slack. After all, she's never loved anyone the way Finnick loves you. She doubts she ever will.
She stands up, getting an armful of Nuts for her troubles, still wet from her dive into the water. Johanna pushes her in another direction that isn’t her personal space. She nudges Beetee with her foot when she notices him slowly gaining consciousness. 
“I got left alone with these two.” She nudges Beetee, who's barely conscious, with her shoe. “I don’t even know if we can consider him alive. And her—”
“Tick, tock. Tick, tock.”
“Yeah, we know. Tick, tock. Nuts is in shock,” Johanna says. This seems to draw Wiress right back in her direction and she careens into Johanna, gripping her and refusing to be steered away again. “Listen, just—stop it.” Johanna manages to get out of her hold, shoving her to the beach. “Just stay down, will you?”
Katniss rushes in and pushes Johanna away, finally opening her big mouth to say, “Hey! Lay off her!” As if Johanna is the one accosting Wiress.
Johanna narrows her eyes. “Lay off her?” She hisses. Before anyone can react, Johanna rears her hand back and slaps Katniss hard enough that her palm stings with it. She could have done it a lot harder and she probably should have for extra measure.
Finnick finally reacts to that, standing up to pull them apart. “Hey, hey, hey!"
He lifts Johanna over his shoulder, but she doesn’t make it easy for him. Twisting and writhing in his hold like a rabid badger as he carries her to the water. And Johanna is so very tempted to chuck her axe at Katniss’s confused face.
“I got them out for you!”
-
The mood amongst the group is rather somber. Wiress was killed right under their nose. Preventive, if they had only been paying attention. Their canary is dead, as Katniss said. But they noticed too late. It’ll cost them somehow, Finnick is sure.
After making sure a waterlogged Beetee is breathing more air than water, Finnick can’t look at him for long. For no reason other than the fact that he can’t stand it. What is there to see other than a man mourning his district mate, his friend? Someone who’s been in his life longer than they haven’t. It sparks a resigned anger in Finnick, an anger that simmers and smolders. An anger that burns but doesn’t have the room to spread. An anger that’ll consume him and only him. He burns for Beetee and himself, for Wiress and Mags. It’s an anger that prays Chaff will survive, or else it’ll consume you too.
Beetee rolls his thin, golden wire between his fingers and Finnick knows he’s thinking of Wiress. He looks away, down at the low-hanging branch he’s leaning against. What is there to do? He won’t apologize to Beetee for his loss, because that means he’ll be acknowledging that he’s lost something too. 
Katniss is the first to speak after a long stretch of silence. "So, besides Brutus and Enobaria, who’s left?”
“Maybe Chaff?”
“Star.” Finnick reminds them. 
Peeta nods. “Just those four.”
“They know they’re outnumbered. I doubt they’ll attack again. We’re safe here on the beach.” Or, at least, safer than they’d be if they made camp in the jungle. 
“So what do we do? We hunt ‘em down?” Johanna asks, still somehow able to make the only viable option sound like the dumbest thing she’s ever heard. An admirable skill. Finnick isn’t that eager to go marching back in there either. He’d much rather stay in one spot to make it easier for you to find them, but there are only two careers left and he’s confident that the four of them could make quick work of Brutus and Enobaria—
“Katniss!” A girl yells Katniss’s name somewhere behind them, somewhere deep in the jungle. He doesn’t recognize it at first, doesn’t understand what’s happening until—
“Prim!” Katniss is up in mere seconds, darting off faster than he’s ever seen her move. He lunges for his trident, rushing after her. This has trap written all over it, using her little sister to lure Katniss away from the group. And here he is running right after her. 
Shit.
Finnick is the fastest out of the five of them, no doubt. It’s no chore at all to catch up to her. Though it would have been impossible to lose her with how loud she screams, “Prim!”
By the time he gets there, the screaming is cut off abruptly. 
“Katniss!” He crashes into the small clearing that she’s stopped in, panting. “You okay?”
Before she even opens her mouth to answer, they’re interrupted. The shrill screech that rings throughout the jungle isn’t Prim’s. It’s—
“Annie?” He asks, but he knows those screams and they are without a doubt Annie’s. She screams again as if to answer him and his heart drops. He doesn’t think, doesn’t have time to before he’s running. “Annie!”
He chases the sound of her voice deeper into the jungle, but it feels like he’s simultaneously getting closer and further away. “Annie! Annie!"
“Finnick! It’s not her! It’s just a jabberjay. It’s not her.” Katniss says as she catches up to him, but that does nothing to soothe him.
“Well, where do you think they got that sound? Jabberjays copy.”
“You don’t think…?”
He doesn’t bother answering, chest heaving, because he does think. He knew the Quarter Quell would be a death sentence for more than just him and Mags. He knew that despite her many triumphs and growth since her Games, Annie wouldn’t make it alone—not yet. But this ? This is a worse fate than he could have ever imagined for her. 
“Katniss!” This voice is different from the other two, more masculine. Finnick doesn’t recognize it, but Katniss must if the fear in her eyes is anything to go off of.
“Gale.” She whispers, and that’s when the birds stop hiding.
His eye twitches at the next scream, his shoulders hunching closer to his ears. “Finnick! Finnick, please!”
“Star?” Your name falls off his lips as a faint whisper, but it feels like a razorblade as he forces it out of his throat. Because putting your name to that tortured voice is torture in and of itself.
But that doesn’t…how could they have—if, if you’re here, then how would—But he doesn’t know that for sure, does he? He doesn’t know where you are, does he? None of them do. He wouldn’t put it past Snow. 
He could see it now: Snow plucking you out of the arena during the bloody chaos, dragging you kicking and screaming somewhere deep in the walls of the Capitol, and letting animals in lab coats draw these horrible sounds from you. There really is no limit to his sadism, is there? There’s no line he won’t destroy as he crosses it.
The birds start diving low to pinch at their skin, pull their hair, and strike at them with their wings. He tries to swat them away when dodging doesn’t work before realizing the only way out of this will be by getting out of the four o’clock wedge, like with the fog and the monkeys.
“Come on, come on, come on!” He shouts, pushing Katniss to run back the way they came from and he can barely hear himself despite the way his vocal cords protest at how loud he yells. They run—sprint away from the birds, unsuccessfully. They draw blood but the wounds the jabberjays leave are more than skin deep. When they finally spot the others, Finnick almost feels the relief viscerally. 
It’s this that makes him blind to the fact that the other three don’t approach them, that they hold their hands up to tell them to stop. He only sees it when he runs face-first into the barrier with a crunch of something important. He groans, barely catching himself from falling on his ass. His eyes water as something warm and metallic dips into his mouth and he doesn’t need to touch his face to know his nose is bleeding.
They try to get Finnick and Katniss out from the other side with their weapons as Beetee stares on with palpable sadness. It’s a good effort, Johanna with her axe and Peeta with his machete, but they don’t even make a dent. He’s stuck here for the next hour. When that sinks in, Finnick can’t stop his ears from listening to the screams around him.
“Help me, Finnick! Please!”
“Finnick!”
Finnick stumbles backward over his own feet as he stares up at the hundreds—thousands of jabberjays circling above them. The sheer number of them, they almost paint the sky black. Some fly just out of reach, tauntingly, while others settle into tree branches. But they all open their mouths to sing a cacophony of horror. He looks over at Katniss and he knows she’s screaming. He can’t hear it, but he can see it in the way her entire body quakes as she bangs on the barrier. 
The wails of pain are deafening and he gives up before Katniss does, dropping to the floor. Finnick hunches over, making himself smaller as he clenches his hands over his ears and digs his nails into his scalp, hoping the pain will distract him. It doesn’t. He presses the heels of his palms into his skull and the throbbing ache does nothing to take him out of the moment. 
He’s trapped.
Even though there must be at least five voices surrounding him, including Katniss’s, Finnick can only focus on two. He only hears you and Annie, your begs and screams swimming together to grate against the confines of his skull. He apologizes but it’s more of a vibration in his chest than any sound said aloud. He tries to think, but he can’t, he can’t—can’t think of anything else. What could they have done to make you scream and plead and cry like this, reaching out for him when he can never reach back? Helpless, yet again, as you and Annie are tortured. 
He’s helpless and he’s hopeless and Finnick sobs, his forehead thudding against the ground over and over. He imagines your hand rubbing his back soothingly as you run fingers through his hair and it only makes him cry harder, chest rocking with painful hiccups.  
-
Coming to the beach feels like admitting defeat, but your chances of survival in that jungle decrease substantially the longer you stay there. You don’t know how long you cowered in that tree, but you know you stayed long after the Rue mutt went silent. 
You limp along in the sand. Your only hope is that you’ll spot Finnick when he comes to the water to fish. That’s when you hear it. A masculine voice yelling, screaming something. You poise yourself to start running in the opposite direction. You don’t know who’s left, but it would be difficult to take on Gloss or Brutus even if you weren’t injured. Something makes you stop though, something tells you to listen. You can’t make out what he’s saying, but you can make out who’s saying it. 
Peeta!
Your feet carry you back into the jungle, tripping over your boots and vines and anything else in your path, but you don’t fall. You don’t allow yourself to. You speed up the louder Peeta’s voice becomes, closer and closer and closer until you see them. 
You don’t quite understand what it is you’re looking at. Beetee looks to the sky underneath his glasses, scanning for something. Johanna is slamming her axe against a clear barrier, clear like what you saw the beetles bumping into. And you were right, Peeta is the one screaming. 
Johanna spins around as you approach and her eyes light up at the sight of you.
“You found us.” She pants, axe falling to her side. “Oh, thank God.” She moves and it’s only then that you see him.
Finnick is curled up on the ground with his hands covering his ears.
“Finnick!” You rush forward, falling to your knees without a second thought, reaching for him and meeting nothing. “Finnick, it’s me!” You bang your fist against the barrier but it’s like he can’t even hear you.
“Jabberyjays,” Johanna says from behind you, and, suddenly, you understand.
You don’t take your eyes off of him, to do so feels like you’re leaving him in there alone. It becomes even clearer why Peeta is yelling, because curled beside Finnick sits Katniss. Peeta’s yelling, because he’s trying to be louder than whatever voices are being used to torment her. 
This isn’t how you wanted to reunite with Finnick, but, you sigh shakily, blinking back the water in your eyes, you’re so damn glad to see him. 
“It’s no use.” Johanna huffs, you feel her pacing behind you. “He can’t hear any thing, not even you.” That may be true, but seeing him in such a state is making you desperate in your panic. 
“But he can read my lips.” You realize, you just need to get his attention. He needs to know you’re here, that’s it. You don’t know how long you kneel on the ground yelling, screaming yourself hoarse alongside Peeta, focused only on Finnick. But, by some miracle, something makes him look up. Maybe he can feel you, sense that you’re there—regardless, he looks up and you smile, laughing in relief. 
He’s crying, tears making tracks in the dirt along his face and it breaks your heart. There are a few scratches along the right side of his face and there’s crusted blood under his nose. The birds got him good and you don’t just mean physically. 
He stares at you like he doesn’t believe you’re really there. Like he can trust what his eyes see as much as what his ears hear. 
“Finnick! Finnick, baby, it’s not real.” You enunciate, shaking your head rapidly. “It’s not real.”
Star? He mouths and you nod eagerly, pressing your forehead to the transparent wall. He clambers up, shuffling forward to copy you. He presses his big hands to your smaller ones, forehead to forehead. His eyes slip closed, lips quivering and you can see the same relief you feel shake through him. His shoulders quake with his sobs, but his eyes don’t stay off of you for long. He’s scared to look away from you, you can tell. 
You take in a deep breath, and then another, each one less unsteady than the last. Telling yourself not to cry proves to be fruitless. You can only imagine what it is he’s hearing.
“Remember when I ate fish for the first time? I think you had just turned eighteen—no, nineteen and, I don’t even know how it came up, but I told you I never had fish before and you were appalled.” A small crease develops between his brows as he watches your lips, but eventually, he nods, beautiful eyes flickering up to yours. They almost look gray whenever he cries, a glossy film muting the color. But they’re still breathtaking. A thousand and one poems, you think. “You made me try more fish than I even knew existed and I ended up throwing up over the balcony. And, and you felt so bad, and you kept apologizing, but I couldn’t stop laughing at the idea of some Capitol elite wearing my puke as a hat. Do you remember that, Finn?” He blinks a few times before his mouth tilts into a small smile, one you don’t even realize you copy. 
Yeah, sweetheart. I remember. 
Your heart flutters at the pet name even after all this time. 
You go on like that, saying whatever comes to mind with Finnick watching your lips carefully, reverently like your words are the only thing keeping him upright for twenty minutes, thirty minutes, maybe even forty. 
“The hour’s up,” Peeta says, relieved, though you aren’t sure what he’s talking about. But then the jabberjays start falling to the ground dead, wings flapping pitifully before they still, and you know it’s coming to an end. It’s an unnerving sight. Not that Finnick notices with how closely he watches you. “The hour’s up.”
Something shifts. The air goes still and then, suddenly, you feel warm callused skin under your hands and a damp forehead against your own. Finnick falls into you, his big frame feeling incredibly small in your embrace as he trembles. 
“Star.” He breathes almost mournfully. 
“Hey, baby.” You grin, taking his face into your hands. You rub blood-smeared thumbs along his cheeks. His eyes are puffy and you want to kiss them. Something rushes over you, because you can do that. There’s no reason not to now. You’re not acting for the cameras anymore, not hiding anything to make your patrons feel special. You’re together now, they can’t use you against each other as punishment. You lean forward and he closes his eyes like he already knows what you’re going to do.
Or maybe it’s a case of your desires syncing up so intrinsically that you’ll know what the other will do without being told. 
Just like it used to be.
You press your lips against each of his eyelids, savoring the feeling. You pull back—he freezes momentarily, probably at the thought of you letting him go—but only enough to see his face clearly. “Are you alright? You okay?” He doesn’t have to say anything for you to know the answer is no.
You wind your arms around his shoulders and he buries his face into your neck. You whisper reassurances into his ear, running your fingers through the hair curling along the back of his nape. One of his hands reaches up to grip your bicep while he folds his other arm around your waist.
You look over to see Peeta comforting Katniss, coaxing her out of the protective ball she’s curled herself into. “It’s over. It’s okay. They’re gone. The hour’s gone. The hour’s up. It’s alright.”
She jumps, gasping once he touches her. 
“Prim! Find Prim!” She yells, to your slight confusion. 
“No, no. Prim’s okay.” He reassures her and, though seemingly impossible, Finnick’s grasp on you tightens.
“They used your voice.” He says into your neck. Your voice? Why would they do that when it’s something so easily disproven? And why your voice specifically? Another protocol broken by Snow? You wouldn’t be surprised. You’ve got more questions than answers and the only person that can answer them is the last man you’d want to speak to again. “Yours and Annie’s. I-I thought, I thought you were gone. I,” he inhales, “I thought they took you.” He croaks despairingly and you just might start crying again.
“I’m right here, Finn. No one’s gonna take me.” You whisper, a promise meant for his ears only as you curl around him protectively.  
“Okay? They won’t touch Prim. Alright?” Peeta talks her down and you wish you could help.
“It was fake.” You say, loud enough for the others to hear. Their gazes swing to you. “Apparently, it’s not hard to take a regular recording of someone’s voice and—”
“Modify it,” Beetee picks up, nodding in agreement. He was the one who told you about it a few years back. It has always stuck with you. It made your skin itch then and it makes your skin sting now. “Change the context, in a way. Our children learn a similar technique in school. Fairly young, at that.”
“Your fiance’s right. The whole country loves your sister. If they tortured her or did anything to her, forget the districts, there would be… riots in the damn Capitol.” Johanna attempts to help in her own blunt way, but there’s an undercurrent of jealousy. Something every victor must feel. You know you do. What makes Katniss’s family more lovable than your own? Doesn’t your mom deserve the protection that comes with that kind of public acclaim? That safety net? A part of you hates how envious you are of Prim, this little girl, but it can’t be helped.
“Hey, how does that sound, Snow? What if we, what if we set your backyard on fire?! You know you can’t put everybody in here!” She shouts to the sky. You all stare at her, silent. Even Finnick who still clings to you watches her. “What? They can’t hurt me. There’s no one left that I love.” You know that to be tragically true. 
When it happened, it spread amongst the pool of victors like a plague. A factory fire in Seven? The same district whose entire industry is lumber just so happened to be negligent enough that a fire started in one of their sawmills? Only killing three people, no less?
Snow has never been subtle, not when it falls and not when it sticks. Not when it builds and certainly not when it traps. He’s much like his namesake in that way. But he has no need for subtlety. Not when he’s exacting his own special brand of justice. Not when he’s teaching someone a lesson. Because a lesson for one of you is a lesson for you all.
He attempted to trap her just like you feared he would and Johanna told him no, perhaps very loudly and colorfully. She told you she doesn’t regret it, she only regrets that Snow took it out on her family. And that she didn’t curse him out more before she was escorted out. Johanna Mason has always been the bravest girl you know.
She huffs like a bull. “I’ll get you some water. You too.” She points her axe to you before she storms off. You almost forgot how thirsty you are. 
-
Finnick can’t sit in this jungle anymore surrounded by these fucking birds, even if they are dead. 
He needs to go back to the beach, back to the water. He doesn’t say any of that, and yet you stand, pulling him up with you. He grabs both his trident and your sickle in one hand while you intertwine your fingers with his. He doesn’t ask where you’re leading him, because he’d follow you anywhere. Beetee follows with Katniss and Peeta not far behind. 
His nerves feel raw and exposed, but seeing you, holding you loosens a knot between his shoulder blades. He doesn’t know how he would have fared after the jabberjays if you weren’t there. If he couldn’t get some kind of confirmation that you were okay. If you weren’t there to hold him together. 
They clear the jungle, stepping onto the beach and he sweeps for enemies. When he sees none, he buries the hilt of his trident into the sand and lays your weapon next to it. He notices something as you pull him to the water. 
He looks down at the hand he had wrapped around your sickle to see…blood. You held his face earlier. He uses the back of his hand to rub at one of his cheeks. He pulls back and sees—blood. He thought it was just sweat but both of your hands are covered in fresh blood.
The blood rain your group got caught in happened hours ago, it should be dried and tacky by now. So unless you’ve had the severe misfortune of being caught in it twice—
He stands still, pulling you to a stop.
"How much of this blood is yours?" He asks, dreading the answer. Already, he looks you over, but it’s hard to find anything amiss when you’re drenched like this. You stare up at him confused, brows furrowed before they raise in realization. 
“Oh!” 
Oh? What does ‘oh’ mean? ‘Oh’ isn’t what he wants to hear. ‘Oh’ sounds nothing like ‘none at all, Finn’. ‘Oh’ suggests something substantial that you remembered, ‘oh’ means bad.
"More than you would like." You shrug indifferently like your words aren't kickstarting Finnick's heartbeat double-time. He looks you over again and finds that you’re favoring your right side.
"Let me see."
You sigh, reaching down to your waist. You’ve tied your sleeves together in a tourniquet. You grit your teeth as you untie it and he winces as the cut on his thigh twinges in sympathy. He squats down to get a better look, carefully pulling back the sticky fabric of your shirt and cursing. 
God.  
What could do this? He raises his other hand to your back to steady you. The wounds are, he doesn’t want to say bad, but they’re far from good. There’s no discoloration to suggest infection, he thinks. There’s harsh bruising, but that’s normal, right? It’s to be expected for any injury. There’s nothing to suggest that it’ll kill you. 
He looks up at you and you seem fine, all things considered. You know more about medicine than he does and you would tell him if this was fatal.
The two crooked circles make him queasy to look at, but at least you aren’t bleeding any more. Your entire side is covered in your blood, so that doesn’t promote much confidence. There’s loose skin and jagged cuts and, and…
He tries not to outwardly show how freaked out he is, he doesn’t want to scare you, but, of course, you can tell anyway.
“I’m alright.” You place a bloody hand on his head, lacing bloody fingers in his hair.
He looks between you and the wound in disbelief. This does not look alright. 
He shakes his head, stunned. And more than a little amazed. “How could you forget about this? Even for a second?”
“I saw you.” You say and smile and he knows you’d shrug if it didn’t hurt so much. “And, I, uh, I guess it…it didn’t seem that important. At the time.”
“Star,” he scolds, despite the way his chest feels tight and his eyes feel scratchy with the need to cry again because this is very important. 
But. 
He felt the exact same way when he saw you. He doesn’t know what told him to look up at that moment, doesn’t know what made him lift his forehead from where he pressed it into the dirt, but he did. And there you were. And he could suddenly hear again. Not the screams of pain and anguish around him, but you. He read your lips as you talked and it was like you were beside him, he could almost hear you. The real you. The you that the jabberjays couldn’t mimic. He could feel again and it wasn’t the feathered wings hitting him or the tears trailing down his face. It was you. You were there and that meant nothing else mattered because you were there.
Even now as he stares up at you, at the way you glow under the sunlight, he can barely feel the sting on his cheek from a jabberjay’s talons that got too close for comfort.  
He looks back down at the wound before your beauty can further distract him and frowns.
“What happened to you, sweetheart? Another victor?” He asks, but he can’t even think of what kind of weapon could do this kind of damage.
You sigh wearily. 
“No. No, nothing that simple. I’ll explain later, I promise. C’mon.” You pull at his wrist and he stands. “Come help me wash all of this shit off.” He’s conflicted. You do need to clean up, but he doesn’t know if you should be so blasé about this. He looks over his shoulder at where the others sit a few feet away.
“Okay. But we need to get that taken care of, Star.”
“Of course, Finn.”
“Katniss helped Beetee. With, like, moss. And…Water and stuff. He was in much worse shape, so she can definitely help you.” You let him ramble.
“Okay, Finn.”
-
Katniss sits in the sand, warm despite the permanent chill the jabberjays have left behind. She jumps at the sound of metal on metal, an arrow being added to her quiver. She looks up and behind her at Johanna’s smug face, probably getting a particular kick out of scaring her. 
She hands Katniss an opened coconut full of water and she takes it hesitantly, still more than a little confused about where the two of them stand. “Thank you.”
Johanna says nothing back, not that she expected her to. Instead, she picks up a stray stick and sits to the left of her. 
"What's the deal with those two?" She asks, running the risk of sounding like one of the older women back in Twelve—as rare as they are—who loved to gossip. Not that there was ever anything to gossip about in the Seam. Katniss thinks they just liked the distraction.
Johanna glances up at her before looking to where you and Finnick sit in the water a foot or two away from the shore. Or, more accurately, Finnick sits in the water as you lay across his lap. He washes the blood off of you with the kind of gentleness Katniss thought he only had reserved for Mags. He takes your face between his hands, seemingly taking a moment just to look at you, and the exact nature of your relationship only further complicates in Katniss' mind.
"What isn't the deal with them," the older girl throws the stick a couple of feet, giving up on whatever she was trying to draw. "They won their Games so young, fourteen and fifteen. They practically grew up in the Capitol together. You don't go through half the shit they've been through without growing a little attached."
Ah. She can believe that. You won your Games before her father died, so she remembers some of the fanfare—the interviews you and Finnick used to do together, all of which were projected in the town square, had always confused her. From what she learned in school, Four and Eleven couldn’t be any more different. What was the point of pairing you two together? 
She isn’t a strategist like Peeta, she can admit it’s not her strong suit. But if she thinks less like the districts and more like a victor, it makes sense.
Two victors who are close in age, both attractive and charismatic. Who wouldn’t want to see them together? Usually, victors from the same district get paired together for their television appearances, but neither Four or Eleven had another victor appropriate for public consumption, either too old or too crazy. 
“Hmm.”
When she was younger, she imagined victors like you and Finnick—pretty, charming, well-loved—were living the dream. 
But if two of the most beloved and revered victors are miserable, what chance did she and Peeta stand? No, she knows the answer to that. She doesn’t have a chance. She can’t handle it, the Capitol. She’s barely been subjected to it for a year, and even then, that’s only the tip of the knife.  
You were right, she realizes. In comparison to you and Finnick who’ve been on this ride for nearly a decade, she’s incredibly lucky. She’s already slipped up once, and it cost a man his life.
The weight of Snow’s threat looms over her and without the Quell, it would have only been a matter of time before she did something else to displease him. But Peeta knows how to play the game, he knows how to sway the audience. He came up with the romance, with the baby. It took her some time to understand the significance of those two plays, but she gets it now. She couldn’t have done that, couldn’t have possibly thought to.
Nobody worries about Peeta and whether or not he's selling the romance. She's the risk factor here.
Yet another reason why he should be the one making it out of here and not her.
"Then what happened?" They didn't act this close during training. In fact, while she was unsure of Finnick's intentions, Katniss was almost certain you hated him. That was partially the reason she found it so hard to trust him. 
"The same thing that always happens when Snow sniffs out that someone has an ounce of happiness. He cut it at the root.” Katniss attempts to understand the implications of that statement. How much is she not saying? Suddenly, Katniss glances to the sky, remembering all at once where they are and that this conversation is far from private. How much can she say? She looks back to where you and Finnick have huddled even closer together, noses nearly brushing. She’s too far away to hear the conversation, but she can tell from here that whatever is being said is done in a whisper. As soft as freshly hung sheets drying in the sun. Maybe softer. 
You two are a mystery she hadn’t even been aware of. And maybe it isn’t her place to try and solve it, but she knows one thing for certain. It’s becoming increasingly clear that the only real victor is Snow.
Suddenly Johanna sighs, long and weary like the old bloodhound Katniss used to stop and pet when she sold her catches in the merchant area. “Love is weird.”
-
“So it’s a big clock?”
“Yep.” The water has become a murky red, just diluted enough to not be opaque. “Wiress figured it out—in her own special way.” He didn’t think twice about her weird little chanting. There was too much going on in his own head to wonder about hers.
He can’t dip you into the water like he did Johanna. It would be far from productive and certainly less fun. You need a gentle hand and he’s more than happy to provide.
He’s heard of saltwater washes being used for wounds, but that might be a little different from the water in the arena. There’s sea life swimming around, which means bacteria. Not to mention the blood of victors unlucky enough to be slaughtered during the bloodbath. All of which will open you up to an infection. 
So instead, he thought it best to lay you horizontally across his lap, propping your torso up to keep your wound dry. 
“That makes so much sense. It feels so damn obvious now.” You scoff, shaking your head. 
He smiles and says, “I’m sure you could’ve figured it out too.” 
You huff. “Mhm. Sure.”
The blood comes off of you in thick clots before disintegrating in the water. The real problem presents itself when he attempts to wash it out of your hair. The blood sits heavy and congealed in your curls, oily enough that rinsing it out proves nigh impossible. The salt in the water helps, but only barely. 
Finnick’s fingers are gentle as he works, diligent yet soothing. You inhale, relaxing into him. He finds himself hunching over you protectively, curling his body over yours like a shield. 
“and…Wiress?” You ask, not so much about her absence. It isn’t hard to guess what the absence of a woman like that means in a place like this. It’s what caused said absence that you’re after. Finnick sighs.
“The careers came. Snuck up on us while we were busy mapping out the arena. And then Gloss ran a knife through her neck.” He says. He knows you wouldn’t want him to spare you from the details. You asked him because you want to know.
“Oh.” You say, the subtle waves withdrawing and climbing around your shoulders and your head. It might get in your ears. Should he scoot back? Maybe further up the beach? “How’s Beetee taking it?”
“He’s…taking it. The man’s a robot.” He grumbles with less snide than it should have come out. The people expect him to be catty, but Finnick’s been declawed for a long time now. Your eyes stay closed but there’s disapproval written in your brow. Because you know him. You know where to look when he’s hiding.
“Finnick…” You sigh, and he sniffs.
“I don’t know. I guess…he didn’t really think she’d make it.”
“I’m sure he hoped though—that it wouldn’t be so violent, I mean.” You peek an eye open as you catch yourself before relaxing again. He chuckles. And then he remembers where he is.
There was an agreement, something all the victors wanted if they were going to do something as risky as openly rebelling. Immunity for their loved ones. Plutarch agreed to make it a priority ‘if possible’. He knows you asked for your mom, the same way he asked for Annie. But Beetee came into the arena with the only person he cared about. He doesn’t think Beetee has any family other than Wiress. And now, other than you and Annie, Finnick doesn’t either. 
“Yeah. Well. See how well that hope worked out for him.” Instead of replying, not that there’s really anything to say to that, you grasp his hand tenderly, pressing a kiss to it. You open your eyes to look up at him, lips pressed to his knuckles and he can feel the apples of his cheeks along with the shell of his ears go warm, flushing with something other than the heat. It’s not that he isn’t used to physical affection from you, he’s getting reacquainted with it. All while being on national TV. Caesar’s gonna have a field day with this. He wonders how he and his odd little cohost are narrating this, but his mind doesn’t stay on them for long. You let your lips linger, idly drifting to the tips of his fingers, and the muscle in his hand flexes with an impulse he can’t quite explain. Though he is particularly distracted by the drag of your lips against his skin as you talk.  
“I’m sorry about Mags, Finn.” His lips twitch downward. 
“Me too.” You didn’t get nearly enough time with Mags. It adds insult to injury. 
It’s quiet. But it’s not heavy like he’s gotten used to it being since they’ve entered the arena. It’s light, there’s nothing expected of either him or you. He can breathe. The salty smell of seawater calms him almost as much as your humming does. He recognizes it as one of the songs you composed.
“This is technically an ocean, isn’t it?” He pauses, looks around, considers it. 
“I guess you could call it that. Albeit, a rather small one.”
“And, that would make this a beach then? Right?” Your mouth twitches, you’re trying not to smile. He rubs his thumb along your cheek because he wants you to.
You sit up with a little difficulty that you try to hide. He sees it, because he always sees you, and helps you sit beside him. He’s been done for quite some time now. He just wanted to keep touching you. Making sure you’re real, and you’re here with him. In your time apart, he forgot that he didn’t need to find his own assurance. All he had to do was ask. He holds out his left hand and you take it.
“It’s the first I’ve ever seen in person. I haven’t had the chance to take it all in considering, well, y’know.” You laugh and Finnick assumes the birds can only listen in jealousy. Not even they can sing a song as sweet as that. “I could do without the circumstances that led up to it, but, hey.” You nudge your shoulder into his and stay there, sides pressed together, and he leans into you. “We’re here, aren’t we? We’re side by side in the sand.”
His head tilts in confusion before his eyes widen. Side by side in the sand, just like he wanted all those years ago. A childish wish that never stood a chance of coming true, but a wish he sent to you in a letter all the same. Looking back, that sort of hope should have been drained from him—it had been drained from him. But not with you. No, hope is your currency and Finnick had been in massive debt before he met you. 
He wants to kiss you. He wants to kiss you more than he’s wanted anything in his entire life, it seems. It’s been a long two years and, before that, a long couple of months. He needs to kiss you and, he realizes with a buzz of excitement that he can.
“Star?” He coos, tracing circles on your palm. You hum in reply, turning away from the view to look at him. He leans forward, closing the distance between you, and finds you more than eager. His lips meet yours in a tender, slow kiss, a culmination of two years' worth of longing. One hand goes to the back of your head to pull you closer, the other goes to your jaw. It’s always been easy for the two of you to get carried away, to get lost and found in each other.
The softness of your lips against his ignites a flame that had been dormant for too long. Time seems to stand still as the world fades away, leaving only the sensation of your touch and the caress of the sea breeze. He’s a symphony of emotions—passion, longing, and the sweet relief of finally coming home. The taste of salt from the sea mingles with the sweetness of something familiar, creating a flavor that is uniquely yours. It’s a rediscovery of something he feared might be lost. 
As he pulls away, the echo of the kiss lingers in the air. He’s slow to open his eyes, but when he does, they lock onto yours. The entirety of Panem has witnessed your reunion. And he’s still holding you close. Pride probably isn’t the right emotion to feel right now. But the way you look now, lips wet with spit and slightly open as you stare at him with open awe, like he’s something to be admired, says otherwise. 
He and his silver tongue grasp and flounder for something to say. He wants to tell you how beautiful you look, how beautiful you always look, even when covered in scrapes and the Capitol’s vitriol. But that’s obvious in the way he’s gazing at you. Hasn’t been able to look away from you.
He wants to tell you how thankful he is that you’re finally here with him, but that’s obvious in the way he’s kept a hand on you—always touching somehow since that barrier came down. He wants to say all that and more, ardently and profusely, but you already know how the sky is blue. Instead, he says something you don’t know.
“I saw a monkey.”
 You grin in excitement, still so close that he can feel it against his own smile. “Really?” 
-
The two of you fall back into step with each other, synchronous like no time or space has passed between you at all.
What they know so far is enough to keep them alive. The arena is a clock and each section houses a special horror that rears its head twice a day. Twelve to One, Lightening. One to Two, Blood Rain. Three to Four, fog. Four to Five, monkeys. Five to Six, jabberjays. With you here, they’re able to map out two other sections. 
You explain to them the other active wedges you’ve been through. In the wedge between the blood and fog, Two to Three, you draw a crude circle with spikes. 
Finnick tilts his head. And then tilts it in the other direction. "Pineapples?" He guesses. 
"No," you say with an offended pout. "Beetles."
"Right." He nods like that was his second guess.
“Venomous.” You add.
“Venomous?”
He regards your wound with a new kind of fear. It’s not just infection that you’re fighting, but now there’s venom working through your bloodstream? Finnick’s ears ring for a second, out of tempo with his elevated heartbeat. He looks you over. It isn’t like he didn’t notice how drawn and fatigued you look, but now he can attribute it to something deeper than just the arena draining you. 
A surge of panic seizes his chest. The image of you in pain, alone and vulnerable, haunts him. His grip on his composure fluctuates as he struggles to comprehend the new threat for what it is. For what it’ll do to you. But before his anxiety can fully manifest into something he can’t predict, your eyes meet his over your shoulder. Silent reassurance is given while a wordless plea for his composure is asked for in return. 
The warmth of your presence soothes and settles him. 
You turn back to the group, addressing them calmly about something that should normally cause the exact opposite of calm. 
“The beetle’s venom is poisonous, but I was… fortunate. A Sponsor sent in an antidote.” Finnick’s eyebrows furrow. A mixture of relief and bewilderment clouds his features. He meets Johanna and Beetee’s eyes and finds that same relieved confusion reflected back at him. A sponsor gift like that shouldn’t be possible. Your touch grazes his arm gently, and the value of that kind of gift is only lost on Katniss and Peeta. As well as the realization of who could pull off such a thing. Who has enough money, enough power, enough sway to have such a gift at the ready and sent into the arena? Who else but their president? Who else but Coriolanus Snow?
Finnick feels sick at the realization, a queasy anger that's unfortunately laced with gratitude. Because Finnick Odair refuses to be thankful to Snow for anything. His brain knows that—swears by it. But you place a hand over the one he has resting on your shoulder, a reminder that you’re here when it so easily could have ended differently. He can be grateful for your resilience, your strength. And that has nothing to do with Snow.
The group says nothing for a while. Peeta and Katniss look around in bemusement, look at each other, and then look around again.
Briefly, you look to the sky, the back of your head pressing into his stomach, and Finnick copies you. He looks up and sees nothing but an artificial blue sky with formulated clouds drifting by, but he knows you see something different. 
A bird squawks in the distance and Finnick stiffens. But it's not a jabberjay. Only a seagull. 
“The sun had just started to rise, so…here.” You say, finally coming back down to Earth. You point at the Six and Seven o’clock wedge in Peeta’s rough sketch of the arena. “There are multiple mutts here. All of them monstrous.” You say as if it’s something you were taught, not something you know for certain. Detachment. 
“Well?” Johanna prompts. “You can’t just say something like that and not elaborate.” She pokes and he glares at her. He has half a mind to scold her for pushing you, for poking at a crack in a glass just to see what’ll spill out. 
“What?” She asks, incredulous at the lack of support for her probing. “What’s the point of mapping any of this shit out if we don’t even know what we’re looking for?” She huffs.
“You don’t have to—”
“It’s fine. It’s fine.” You cut Peeta off. Exhaling sharply, you start, pause, and then start again. “There’s a beast. It’s twice the size of a normal man and covered with fur. It walked on two legs and it was strong. Like, like a human-bear hybrid. I wouldn’t believe it myself if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, but it tore the man from Ten apart. In the most literal sense. The claw had to dip down four more times to collect all of him.”
“God.” Finnick places a hand on your shoulder, thumb rubbing soothing circles along your nape. He can’t imagine it, doesn’t want to imagine it. Because if he does, it would be all too easy to imagine you in the man’s place as Finnick is forced to watch. He takes a deep breath and squeezes your shoulder momentarily. 
“...Alright then.” Peeta is the first to speak after a short silence. “Beast, six to seven o’clock—” 
“ Beasts.” You correct, not rudely. “There’s, um, there’s more than one thing in there. There was another mutt—a, uh, a dog. It was Rue. It had her eyes an–and it spoke. I was already hurt, lost a lot of blood. Too weak to run, to do much of anything. So I stayed hidden in a tree and she... it begged me to come down until the hour was up. Then it was gone."
"...That's—" Finnick starts, pressing the line of his leg to your back from where he stands close behind you, but he doesn’t know how to finish it.
"Fucked." Johanna says, looking around at their stunned faces like they're weird for not saying it first. But, she's right. Finnick can't think of another word to adequately describe it other than ‘fucked’. "That's fucked. "
“I can’t imagine.” Katniss pipes up to the surprise of, most likely, everyone. She hasn’t said a word to you until now. Is she picturing herself in your position? High in a tree, hiding from the remnants of a little girl you both cared about. “What that must’ve been like. I can’t imagine.” 
Finnick can’t see your face from this angle, but he knows it’s deceptively blank.
“I’m just glad my dad passed before my Games. Don’t know what I would’ve done if they used him too.” You laugh, dry and humorless. He didn’t even consider that.  
Katniss stares at you a little longer, contemplating something, before looking away.
-
It’s a little while later that a parachute arrives. 
District Three has sent loaves of bread if the bite-sized cubes can even be called loaves. Finnick counts them, methodically thumbing them over before placing them in neat, even rows. By the time Beetee asks for the amount, he’s already counted four times.
“Twenty-four.” He says. Four pieces for six people. 
“An even two dozen, then?” Says Beetee.
They’re coming on the third day, tomorrow, but the time doesn’t make much sense. Unless they’re using the twenty-four-hour clock, that is. In this instance, he assumes they’d have to. He’s familiar with it, more than just familiar. He’s lived by it for most of his life. Four primarily uses the system since so much of their time is spent out at sea. After his Games, it was a shock having to get used to the twelve-hour clock used throughout most of Panem with the exception of Two, Three, Five, Six, Twelve, and, of course, Four.
So then, that’s when they’ll come. On the third day, at twenty-four hundred. Midnight. For whatever reason, the plan has changed. Not just the time, but they’ve bumped the day up too.
Beetee will understand it, even if you and Johanna don’t. That’s his role in the plan, after all.
And Finnick reiterates, “Twenty-four on the nose. I’ve already divided them.” 
He passes out each pile to the group. Four for each person with an extra fifth to you from his pile, bringing him down to three.
“I can’t, it’s yours.” You attempt to deny the extra loaf, but it’s perfunctory at best because you and he both know he won’t take it back. 
“It’ll go to waste.” He says. Because no matter how frivolous those in the Capitol may be, that particular trait never rubbed off on you. He also knows after living your entire life in Eleven, you’d never let food go to waste if you can help it. Luckily, no one in the group is enough of an ass to try and claim the loaf of bread for themselves. It’s more than apparent to everyone that you need the extra sustenance. “If you don’t eat it, no one else will.”
So you do so while leaning heavily into Finnick’s side.
-
In the time it takes for everyone to settle in and finish eating, Beetee calls their attention to him.
“I have a plan.” He nods to himself, still rolling his wire between his fingers. “I have a plan.” It makes Peeta a bit apprehensive. Not because of the man himself or anything. Moreso the possible complexity of whatever it is he’s about to say.
Despite how much he wishes he could act otherwise, that brush with the force field has taken more than a physical toll on him. His ability to…to think is hindered, if only slightly. A bit slower to connect the dots sometimes, but that’s all it takes for things to go wrong. He had trouble understanding Beetee before the shock that stopped his heart. But now? Peeta fears that his brain may end up being his own worst enemy here. 
He can’t afford to mess up and force Katniss to save him. He certainly doesn’t want a repeat of what happened to the morphling, to sweet Mags, happening to any of his allies—to Katniss. 
Peeta can only hope that nothing else happens, some other enemy catching Peeta off guard and someone, taking pity on him and putting more value on his life than it’s worth, takes the knife or the claws or the razor-sharp teeth for him. No, he decides. He can’t keep being the deadweight someone else has to carry. He means that literally, in Finnick’s case. It might have worked in his favor during his first Games, but it won’t fly here, especially if he plans on getting Katniss out alive.
He leans forward on the knee he’s kneeling on, digging his machete into the sand to use as a crutch, eyes trained on the older man so he can’t possibly miss anything important.
“Where do the Careers feel safest? The jungle?”
Johanna shoots that down. “The jungle’s a nightmare.”
“Probably here on the beach.” Peeta theorizes. It’s where he’d want to be if he was by himself in the arena with no allies. But it’s more likely he’d be forced to hide in the jungle, blending in enough that anything bloodthirsty—both human and man-made—wouldn’t find him.
“Then why are they not here?” Beetee counters. And Peeta isn’t able to answer him right away, his mind taking a little longer to formulate a response.
“Because we are. We claimed it.” Right. That’s the response he was making his way towards. Only, he’s walking to it rather than sprinting like Johanna seems to be. Even then, he’s more hobbling than walking.
“And if we left, they would come,” Beetee says, a statement this time instead of a question.
“Or stay hidden in the tree line.”
“To spy on us or find food. They’d be able to see an attack from the jungle or the beach, escape ahead of time.” You finish Finnick’s thought from where he stopped it. Peeta’s thankful for the explanation that nobody else probably needed. “It’s the position with the best advantage.” 
Unlike Johanna and Finnick, you’re sitting down with your back against Finnick’s shins, probably largely due to those holes in your side. Peeta winces thinking about them. He only got a glimpse of them over Katniss’s shoulder as she tried her best to patch you up before he looked away, but he doesn’t think it’ll ever leave his mind. Plus, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to forget the look on Finnick’s face as you told them everything you had been through.
When you were recounting your journey before you stumbled across them, all he could think about was how strong you are. Certainly stronger than he is. If not physically, then in, perhaps, every other way possible. 
“Which, in just over four hours, will be soaked in water from the ten o’clock wave. And what happens at midnight?” Beetee turns to Katniss, prompting her to answer just with his stare alone. It all reminds him of some of the school teachers back in Twelve. The ones that actually cared about the kids learning anything, at least.
“Lightning strikes that tree.”
Instead of confirming whether she’s correct or not, he continues on. “Here’s what I propose. We leave the beach at dusk. We head to the lightning tree.” Beetee points towards the twelve o’clock wedge where the tree towers in the distance. “That should draw them back to the beach. Prior to midnight, we run this wire from the tree to the water. Anyone in the water or on the damp sand will be electrocuted.”
Peeta picks up a handful of the damp sand underneath them, rubbing the grains between his fingers. It seems like a sound plan, but what would Peeta know? He hardly knows anything about open bodies of water or the conductivity of sand, let alone electricity. Twelve’s curriculum didn’t really have room to fit anything in that wasn’t about coal.
“How do we know the wire won’t burn up?”
“Because I invented it.” Is that why he wanted the wire enough to get stabbed in the back over it? Peeta assumed it was because it would’ve been Beetee’s only chance of survival. Maybe it’s both. “I assure you, it won’t burn up.”
Beetee pauses, looking around. Waiting for the rest of them to shoot the plan down, but nobody else has a better suggestion. Peeta goes to say just that but notices Beetee isn’t looking at him. That by itself is normal, he’s used to it. What he isn't used to is the fact that he isn’t looking at Katniss either. Beetee is looking at the three older victors behind them. 
Peeta first looks to you. You tilt your head, picking at the skin around your nails as you contemplate something. You turn to look up at Finnick who’s already watching you. Something is said without words between the two of you, Finnick places a hand on the back of your neck before you both turn to Johanna. Johanna answers with a slight tilt of her head and a minute twitch of her eyebrow. You’ve all agreed to do it together then, he can tell that much.
He and Katniss look at each other.
“It’s the best we’ve got.” You say, and Peeta agrees.
“Well, it’s better than hunting them down.” Johanna concedes.
“Yeah, why not? If it fails, no harm done, right?” Katniss says.
Peeta purses his lips into a slight frown, followed by a nod. “Alright, I say we try it.” 
Finnick asks, “So what can we do to help?” 
“Keep me alive for the next six hours. That would be extremely helpful.”
-
Peeta suggests they take turns getting some rest in. First go Peeta and Beetee, curling up in the sand under some shade where they made their temporary camp.
“You should rest,” Finnick says to you. You’ve been through hell and you couldn’t have grabbed more than a scant few hours before being pelted with bloody rain. 
“Yeah, I should.” You agree, too tired to put up much of a fight. He can see just how exhausted you are in your eyes. Instead of leaving to lie down, you grab his hand, staring up at him with beseeching eyes.
“Sleep with me?” He wants to, really, he does, but then he looks over to where Katniss sits cleaning the fish he caught. 
By now, he can trust her not to kill him in his sleep, but can he trust her not to bolt? She won’t leave without Peeta, but what’s to stop her from sneakily waking him up and ditching them? As if hearing his thoughts, you nod towards where Johanna paces the shoreline. 
She watches the stretches of open land around them before glancing over to Katniss. She does this again, over and over, all while idly swinging her axe beside her. Deceptive in the way she isn’t on guard. She could handle Katniss long enough for the rest of them to wake up if she tried something. And the siren song of sleeping beside you is too beautiful to resist. 
“C’mon, Finn.” You pull him along and he goes. Of course, he goes.
-
When Peeta comes to, it’s to the sound of unfamiliar birds and the movement of water. He must have fallen asleep outside the bakery, but…he can’t remember there being any water in Twelve. 
There shouldn’t be. He sniffs. Especially not salt water.
He turns over expecting grass and finds something grainy instead. 
He shoots up, eyes opening. 
Sand. He’s sleeping on sand. He’s not outside of his family’s bakery. He’s not in Twelve at all. Had he been, sleeping during the workday would have ensured him a beating from his mother.
He’s on a beach. In the arena. 
He finds a head of chestnut brown. It’s mostly dried by now, made wavey from being in her signature braid for so long. Katniss. He’s on a beach, in the arena. And he’s with Katniss.
He relaxes. Beside him, on his right, sleeps Beetee. If you asked Peeta how well someone could sleep on sand, he’d say fruitlessly. But Beetee sleeps like the dead, clutching his spool of wire to his chest. If he tried taking that spool, Peeta’s sure he’d find that Beetee is gripping it like the dead too. 
To his left, curled into each other like the roots of a tree, lies you and Finnick.
Face to face, legs entangled, Finnick’s arm that isn’t cocooned between your bodies is draped over your waist, somehow mindful of your wound even in his sleep.
He probably doesn’t have the right authority to call two seasoned killers cute, but, and maybe it’s the hopeless romantic in him, but right now, you two don’t look much like killers.
You do, however, look quite young. And, if his minimal prior knowledge is trustworthy, quite in love.
He was more than a little shocked by how intimate of a reunion the two of you had, but, honestly, he was glad to see it. He doesn’t know Finnick well and, in retrospect, he doesn’t know you all that well either, but he thinks he’s an apt judge of character in a way that Katniss isn’t. And he thinks…he thinks you guys deserve each other. He can say that much, right?
You and Finnick deserve whatever moments together you’re able to grab. Peeta doesn’t know how it’ll end for you, doesn’t know how it’ll end for Finnick. Who knows how much time will be left before one or both of you meet cannon fire? Peeta doesn’t seem to know a lot of things, but he knows he doesn’t want to be here to find out.
He doesn’t know what happened before the Games, what led to the strain in your relationship. Honestly, with the way you stared at Finnick—similar, much too similar to how he knows he looks at Katniss—he was a little too scared to ask. But whatever it was apparently can’t touch you two in here.
From what he saw, you two hadn’t even interacted much before that spectacle the night of the interviews and he was tempted to ask you what was talked about after you got off the elevator together. Regardless, words didn’t need to be exchanged for anyone to see how much you two cared about each other. Not for Peeta, at least. And what you told him that day in the Training Center struck a chord.
"You shouldn't have to go into the arena with someone you love. It's cruel."
It is cruel. Crueler still to be the one waiting for someone who doesn’t want you back. You deserve to have that kind of love returned tenfold, and he’s happy you found that in Finnick, that whatever those hurdles were could be cleared, even in here.
He stands and goes to sit with Katniss. For a while, they don’t say anything, just sitting in comfortable silence together, back to back. 
Finnick is the next to wake up, and once Finnick is up, it doesn’t take long for Johanna to go down. Beetee wakes up slowly, and Peeta’s able to convince Katniss to take a short cat nap. Through it all, Peeta notes that Finnick doesn’t leave your side. You’re the last to wake up.
They all meander around, idly talking, until the sun has almost completely set and everyone is awake, coiled, and ready to enact the plan.
-
Johanna is more relaxed, Beetee notes, now that you’re back. He may have been somewhat incapacitated for the majority of your absence, but from what he can recall, she had been snarling and pacing like an anxiety-ridden dog. Even after they finally came across Finnick and the others, she had been tense, maybe even more so. Only after your return did she regain her composure. She’s still rather volatile, but, in comparison to before, she’s almost docile now.
“Do you think it’ll work?” She asks after a moment of silence between them and he knows she’s not just referring to his plan to get rid of the remaining Careers. He knows she’s talking about their escape. “Like, really, honestly work.”
He removes his shoe, turning it upside down to empty it of the sand it’s accumulated. Shaking it, patting the outsole, and slipping it back on before repeating the process with his left shoe.
“It’ll depend on more factors than just us. There are a number of variables we can’t control. Outcomes we can’t account for until they happen. I can’t say for certain, but,” he puts his left shoe back on and adjusts himself on his spool of wire that he’s using as a seat, “yes, I believe it’ll work. One way or the other.”
“Great pep talk.” She mumbles, but he knows she’s being sarcastic. 
A few feet before them are you, sitting, and Finnick wading in the water. They watch Finnick twirl his trident for your enjoyment. He does a complex maneuver, of which you applaud him for.
“Bravo! Bravo!” You laugh and Finnick bends at the waist in a bow.
From the corner of his eye, Beetee sees the divots in the sand Johanna is making with the blade of her axe. “I think it’ll work too.” 
“Mmh. Good.” He nods.
-
The sun beats down on you as you lean back. It’s disorienting to feel the ground shift beneath your hands. And under your nails. Sand is far coarser than you thought it would be. You always imagined something softer when you saw it in textbooks, like powder. Instead, it’s gritty, like salt. Getting in almost every crevice, something Finnick did not warn you about.
Finnick crouches before you, both hands on his trident as he digs its end into the sand and uses it as a crutch, filling you in on even more things you missed. You hadn’t thought too critically about what your other half would be doing while you worked your way back to him, but, even if you had, you certainly wouldn’t have guessed any of what happened.
“You should have seen her after I got his heart beating again. I mean, she was beside herself. Crying, laughing, snotting. The whole nine yards.” Almost absently, Finnick gathers a handful of sand to pour over your shin, adding to the growing pile he’s already gathered at your ankles.
“‘s that right?” You ask, though it’s not really a question, peeking an eye open to regard the couple and closing it again when they go in for a kiss. For the cameras? “She’s so…stoic. It’s a little hard to believe.” You, much like everyone else with two brain cells to rub together, hadn’t put much stock into the romance as a whole. Unlike everyone else, however, you knew it was very much real for one of them—Peeta. The way Peeta talked about her, described her, you’d think she was some sort of angel, but, personally, you think butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.
“Only because you didn’t see it with your own eyes. I was honestly a little worried I was witnessing a nervous breakdown.” Finnick shivers dramatically.
“Shush.” You push at his shoulder when he laughs even though you’re hardly any better, barely holding back your own amusement. “And I don’t think I’m all that torn up over missin’ that.”
The last nervous breakdown you can recall happening in the arena with any real clarity is Annie’s. You’re not hurting over not seeing anything like that again or seeing Peeta laid out, dead to the world.
You imagine yourself in Katniss’s position, a snot-nosed blubbering mess curled over Finnick’s body, listening to his renewed heartbeat. You bite your lip. What does it mean that you can understand her?
Finnick rubs a thumb over the furrow between your brows you hadn’t realized was there, before moving down to free your bottom lip from its sharp prison. “What’re you thinking about, beautiful?”
“I haven’t really had the chance to talk to Katniss.” In fact, she’s talked to everyone but you. It was hardly noticeable during training. But it certainly sticks out now. She’s giving you, one of her few allies, a wide berth. Why?
He hums, no judgment in his voice, only curiosity. “You’ve got something to say to her?”
Do you? “Maybe.” You look at her again. “Won’t know ‘till I say it.” 
No time like the present. No point pushing it off for later when you might not survive the next hour. You shift like you’re about to stand and you think you do a pretty good job of pretending your side isn’t spasming with such little movement, like these wounds aren’t slowly killing you.
“Where’re you going?” He asks, offering a hand for you to grab and push your weight against to help you stand before straightening back to his full height.
“Off to get some one-on-one with our bride-to-never-be.” You joke, smile dropping into a scoff when he wrinkles his nose at you. “Oh, come on. That was funny!”
“Mm-mmm. No. Bad joke. Bad wordplay.” He shakes his head, treating your shoulders as an armrest and ignoring the elbow you dig into his ribs—and you just know he’d lean his full body weight on you, making your knees buckle if you weren’t injured. You can literally feel him holding back. ”I’d say have fun, but I doubt that’s possible.” The arm around your shoulder curls inward, his bicep flexing against the back of your neck so his fingers can play with the ends of your hair. You lean into his heat despite the arena supplying you with a surplus of it. “Want me to go with you?”
“No.” You say, before grinning up at him. “Why don’t you keep the others company? I think it’s your turn to babysit anyway.”
His scowl tells you what he thinks of that idea. Now, that’s funny.
-
Katniss’s lips are still tingling with the distinct pressure of Peeta’s mouth against hers when she notices you approaching them.
She’s expecting to see the rest of the group behind you, or even just Finnick, but it’s just you. 
Peeta says your name, “It seems you’re moving around fine enough. I’m glad you’re alright—relatively speaking.”
“You and me both.” You nod.
You say a joke, she thinks, because Peeta laughs, but she didn’t catch it over the beating of her heart in her ears.
“I’m gonna head over.” Peeta nods over to the rest of their allies as he stands. She bites her tongue to stop herself from begging him to stay.
She isn’t afraid of you, necessarily, but she isn’t exactly fond of what you remind her of. Guilt.
Once she learned you were Rue’s mentor, she’s tried her hardest to avoid you. She didn’t want to give herself the chance to ask you questions she knows will only hurt to hear the answers to. Or give herself the opportunity to apologize for things that you won’t forgive. Rue. Thresh. Whatever it is she sparked in Eleven. 
Katniss supposes it’s not your fault that being around you fills her with an overwhelming sense of remorse. She can’t explain any of this to Peeta, who already seems to have taken a liking to you. Instead, she just nods with a grimace of a smile.
She can’t blame anyone but herself for believing that there wouldn’t be a confrontation eventually.
“How’s your side treating you?” She asks.
Her eyes flick to your stomach. She had never felt such profound shock from the severity of a wound before, except perhaps when they had to attend to Gale's back. Genuinely, it’s a wonder you're moving around the way you are with your side so mangled. She was able to clean it with some fresh water Johanna got from tapping a tree, before pressing some of that absorbent moss against it with the tourniquet you made from your sleeves. 
You were an easy patient, with some slight difficulty considering Finnick glared at her like he caught her kicking a puppy whenever you flinched. You sat still, even giving her advice despite the pain you had to be in. She’s seen men twice your size weeping from sprains—though they were usually from the merchant side of Twelve. 
“Better, thanks to you.” You lower yourself to sit beside her in the spot Peeta previously occupied. Now that it's just the two of you, she notices that you speak with a distinguishable drawl that she doesn't think was there the last time you talked to her. It's familiar, almost. Similar to how her father’s folks sounded, from the little she remembers of them. “Is that common in Twelve? Being a healer?”
“No. I’m a special case,” is all she says, but you, surprisingly, don’t ask her to elaborate. “And you? Is that something everybody learns in Eleven?” Rue knew so much about natural medicine and she hadn’t even been in her teens yet. Who knows how much more she would have known had she been older? There’s so much she’ll never have the chance to learn because of Katniss.
“If we want our kids to live into adulthood? Then, yeah, it has to be.” You, surprisingly, elaborate with a wry laugh and she wishes you hadn’t. Hadn’t been so truthful. It’s a privilege in Twelve to have this kind of knowledge, something to use to their advantage. For Eleven, it’s a necessity. The closest thing she can equate to it is hunting. Without it, neither her or Gale's families would have made it long after the mine accident. Many families hadn't.
She waits for you to say something, ask her something—do something to explain why you’re here. But you don't. Instead, you pick up a handful of sand and let it spill out of your hand, somehow impervious to Katniss’s expectant stare.
Do you think she wants to ask you something? Did Finnick send you over? She glances over at his exceptionally bored expression as he idly spins his trident and decides that can't be it. She knows that if she had been separated from Peeta with no way of knowing he's safe only for him to show up injured, she'd want to keep him as close as possible.
Are you trying to wait her out then? If so, for what?
Well, not for nothing. There is one question on the tip of her tongue. 
She hadn't asked before because it didn't seem important to know. She was also wary about mentioning Eleven at all after what happened the last time she was there. Whatever answer she'd get wouldn't help her in the arena, so she never asked.
But now, now that she's aware of what the Gamemakers put you through with that mutt, aware of just how badly she would have handled that, aware of the fact that you cared for Rue—she didn't know how much, but she knows that you did care—and it suddenly feels very important to know. 
“...Was it you?” You look at her with a raised brow. She looks away to watch the sun begin its descent. Fake or not, a sunset will always be beautiful. “When Rue…I was sent bread. I know it was from Eleven. It was meant for Rue. Was it you?”
You pull your left leg up, forearm resting over your knee as your hand flexes open and closed.
“If I said yes?”
“I’d ask why.”
“Why do you think?” 
Weirdly enough, she wants to get the answer right. Almost like she doesn’t want to disappoint you or something equally as stupid. Does she care what you think of her? If she does, it has to be because of your connection to Rue. And, apparently, Haymitch and Peeta.
She knows why she would have sent the bread in your position. “A repayment. For what I did for Rue. And I, I guess so it wouldn’t go to waste.”
You look at her for a moment, long enough that it makes her, no stranger to staring, shift a little. 
The way you stare at her, always slightly amused. Like she’s a long-winded joke you already know the punchline too, but want to hear again. It’s hard to explain. It doesn’t feel malicious or like you’re making fun of her. But it’s confusing and more than a little intense. Another thing she noticed about you, especially in your interviews. Haymitch had explained once, how it’s a part of why you have so much influence in the Capitol. Sure, you’re beautiful. But more than that, you’re captivating, persuasive. Your stare is a snare that prey willingly walk into. Even she feels it, which is saying something.
It’s vastly different from how Finnick looks at her like she’s a puzzle he keeps finding pieces to, with no clue where to put them. Or how Johanna looks at her like—well, like she hates her. Of the three, she can’t tell which she prefers.  
“I have no siblings. Shockin', right?” The only shocking part is you bringing that up seemingly out of nowhere. The shift in topics makes her blink. “I’m sure you learned that each family in Eleven has, like, ninety kids with full smiles and even fuller stomachs.”
Truthfully, Katniss is too embarrassed to say what she learned about Eleven, which is close to nothing. When they were being taught things about the other districts, as rare as it was, it was typically kept to their purpose and how they utilize the coal Twelve provides, if at all. Other than the little the teachers went over about how food is produced and the assumptions from other children that were treated like facts, Katniss can’t say she actually learned anything about your district. And she learned that from Rue. “Something like that.”
“If you get rid of the full stomachs, then it’s not too far off, honestly. More kids mean more workers. I’m sure it would have happened eventually, might’ve ended up with twenty brothers and sisters.” You joke. Or, at least she thinks you’re joking. She doesn’t know, but she’s too embarrassed to ask. She does know, however, that they’ve definitely cut the cameras away from the conversation by now. 
“Why didn’t it? Happen, I mean.”
“I’d imagine you’d need two parents for that.” Despite the blankness of your face that gives nothing away, you somehow manage to slip some humor into the statement, so you can’t be too upset at her for inadvertently making you mention your dad again.
She wonders how it happened. An accident like her father? Or…?
The punishments for minor crimes are distributed harshly in your district, Rue told her this much. And she’s seen it with her own eyes. Just how brutally the citizens of Eleven are treated by Peacekeepers. A feeble old man executed swiftly and without a word like he was no better than a dog with rabies. If that’s what they’re willing to do publicly, she can’t imagine what it’s like when there are no eyes on them. 
Is that something she can ask you? Does she even want to know? You choose for her.
“He and a few other men were hung in the square on grounds of treason and conspiracy.” Rebels. You don’t say whether the claims were founded or not, but Katniss can tell by the way you say it that, rebel or not, your father was an innocent man. Your eyes cast around aimlessly. She’s relieved they aren’t focused on her anymore. “I was eight. So, yeah. No big family.” 
Eight. Even younger than she had been.
“But I always wanted one growing up. Wanted kids of my own. Someone to love them with.”
With a level of fondness Katniss hadn’t expected to see, maybe, ever, let alone in the arena, you look over at Finnick who—despite Peeta’s best efforts to engross him in a conversation—keeps glancing over here. And, she squints, he’s slowly edging closer. Poor Peeta seems none the wiser about how unengaged his audience is. It would be a funny sight. How desperately Finnick seems to want to be around you. The most eligible bachelor in Panem so very obviously in love. He’s nothing like he was before they entered the arena, or even a few hours ago when Johanna had to pull him off the brink of what seemed to be a panic attack. Funny if they weren’t in the arena. And funny if it wasn’t so very sad.
“You lived in the Seam, right?” She turns to you, surprised that you knew that, before nodding. The ignorance about other districts isn’t as universal as she thought it was. She isn’t sure if that says more about Twelve or her. “I grew up in a Shacktown, somethin’ similar. So you know bringin’ a child into that is practically a death sentence and, and…” You sigh. Suddenly, Katniss feels incredibly guilty for this fake pregnancy. “Forget I said any of that. None of it’s important. Just, just got a bit sidetracked.”
“It’s alright.” But it’s not alright, is it?
“So, no kids. But I had my tributes. And I cared. About every single one of them.” You say with a bit of steel in your voice as if she might claim you’re lying. 
She just nods, recalling you telling her she’s lucky to never have to worry about being a mentor. Thinks of how Haymitch treated them before their first Games. She thinks of you and him both having to train and send off kids from your districts that you knew had no chance of winning, having to do it year after year. 
“Rue—she was a good kid, real good. But she never would’ve survived after the Games anyhow. Young girl like her? They would’ve eaten her alive. And then thrown her right back up to make room for more.” You purse your lips together, slightly twisting them to one side. “Just...tradin’ one arena for another, really.”
She doesn’t wanna think about how true that is. Do you see her too? In the song birds and the meadows? Do you see Rue in the small animals that scurry high in the trees, too trusting to not fall victim to the snares and traps? You must. With how much you care, you must see her too.
Katniss has a moment of clarity. 
It’s possible she completely misunderstood what you told her at the chariots. She was under the impression that you hated her a little bit, different from Johanna’s general ire. She thought that your hatred, valid and pointed, came from the fact that she survived only because your tributes saved her. That’s what she thought you meant before Finnick interrupted the conversation and you left like you were allergic to his presence. 
But you never said that. You made no indication that you blamed her for anything, for either of their deaths. That was all Katniss, wasn’t it? 
She doesn’t know what to say, so she says nothing at all.
“I held her. The night before. We couldn’t sleep, we talked and…gossiped. And then I held her. And, for that small moment that wouldn’t really matter to anybody but me and her, I guess…I guess I could imagine what it would feel like to be a mother.” Katniss frowns and has to look away from your wistful face. It’s horrible, the things you’re saying. A lesser woman would be crying. But you say them with a smile. It’s also horrible, she realizes absently, that had the circumstances been different, had you met at a nauseating Capitol party or grieving over your respective tributes, she could see you and her being friends.
“Seems you’ll be livin’ that out for the both of us, huh?”
“What?” You look down at her stomach. “Oh.” Right. The baby. That is supposed to be inside of her. This is the third time she’s had to be reminded. How did she forget that fast? She’d be better off writing ‘remember to be pregnant’ on her arm.
“Oh.” You mimic, an amused smirk growing. “It’s alright. Your belly’s still flat, must be pretty early in. I almost forgot myself.” You wink and, stupidly, Katniss feels herself blush. Now, if it’s from embarrassment at her misstep or being the focus of all of your… you is anybody’s guess. 
She doesn’t understand how Finnick can stand to be at the center of it. Not only that but actively seeking it out, if how visibly impatient he seems to be to head this way means anything, shifting his weight from foot to foot. You snort. He locks eyes with you, pulling a face that turns your snort into a laugh that you hide behind your hand. He seems to be begging you for something and Katniss never realized how much could be said with just eye contact and some funny faces.
Nothing’s happening, per say, but it still feels like she’s intruding on a private moment despite neither of you saying a word to each other and being a good thirteen feet apart. Still. The air around you two feels so constantly charged that she can’t help but notice it.
And that kiss earlier…
Katniss wills her ears to cool down, but it appears her body is just as good at listening as she is. Caesar must be beside himself about the whole thing. It’s not hard to imagine him fainting live over it. She wishes she could see it.
“So I did send the bread because it’d be wasteful not to and because it’s what Rue would’ve wanted. But, also, as a thank you. For protectin’ her when I couldn’t, even for a little while.” You sniffle, rubbing at your nose. “Sorry. For, um. Makin’ that so long-winded.” If she knew you better, she’d be confident in saying you sound embarrassed. There’s no reason to be. It didn’t even feel like the two of you talked for long, but the sun is barely peeking over the horizon now.
“I should be the one apologizing. For Rue. And Thresh…For the old man…”
“Briar.” You say. Your district is massive. So much vast land that barely houses its population. Unlike Twelve, Eleven is far too big for you to know everyone. It should surprise her that you know his name. But it doesn't.
“For Briar.”
“Katniss…Nobody blames you for a damn thing that happened except for you.” Obviously, you haven’t had a chat with the president recently. As far as Snow’s concerned, anything bad that’s happened in Panem since her win is entirely her fault. And almost as if you know what she’s thinking, you say, “Nobody of any real importance, at least.”
She scoffs but doesn’t argue. There’s no point. Something tells her you're the kind of person who can convince anybody of anything. And no matter how desperately she wants to believe it, she doesn’t need you to convince her that she’s faultless. 
She remembers Peeta vouching for you. At the time it didn’t make much sense, and a small part of her had wondered if it was because he liked you. Stupid. 
You taught him, he had told her, about plants. From their toxicity to their edibility. A subject Peeta was particularly lacking in. Valuable information given away freely when you didn't have to. In fact, it would have served you not to help your competition. She doesn’t understand it and she has a feeling Finnick wouldn't either. But you do, and so does Peeta. And she knows that means it was strictly kindness that drove you. Between you and Finnick, she’ll never be able to get rid of this debt. How could I possibly kill them now?
“It seems I have a lot to be thanking you for.”
You regard her for a moment.
“You don’t owe me anythin’, Katniss. That’s what you’re thinkin’, right?” It seems even her thoughts, like her secrets, are public knowledge known to everyone before they’re known to her. “Well, here and now, I absolve you of any debts.” You wipe your hands together like you’re clearing them of dust. “How’s that sound?” It sounds like you’re only making her predicament worse.
“That sounds very generous.” And too good to be true. In fact, she hopes it’s too good to be true. It would make this whole thing easier. She unsticks her tongue from where it feels frozen to the roof of her mouth and asks, “How was it? The mutt, I mean.” Katniss doesn’t even know why she asks. Maybe because she knows it’ll hurt.
The mutt hybrids of Foxface and Thresh tearing Cato apart are still seared into her mind just as much as the flinch that went through Marvel’s body as her arrow struck him dead. Who knows how she would’ve handled it if they had turned Rue into one so soon after she lost her?
Instead of describing it in vivid, painful detail, your eyes get flinty as your fingers tap your thighs in no specific rhythm and you say something much worse. “When I was fifteen, after I won my Games, I thought I’d eventually become—jaded to all of it. That the blows would be dulled. And, after eight, almost ten years, you think you’ve seen all they had to throw at you. That they can’t possibly hurt you worse than they already have. But that? That was… mean. That’ll haunt me more than havin’ to watch her die.”
“...Oh.” She wants to apologize again, and she would if she thought you would accept it. Most of this conversation will be cut from the final product, and that’s if the Gamemakers are even risking keeping the cameras on them. 
Finnick is the only one still standing among the other group, his hands on his hips as Peeta recounts some sort of story. It looks like Beetee is the only one actually listening, following along. Johanna watches on in amusement, seemingly cutting Finnick off every time he tries to interject. He does nothing more than sigh in response, but his growing frustration is evident as he crosses his arms.
“Ah. That’s my queue.” You chuckle as you clamber to your feet, slow and cautious. She’d almost forgotten you were even injured. You wear your pain so well. “I better head over there before he pulls somethin’.” 
You smile at her so easily that it makes her smile in turn. Small and without teeth, but it’s not as tense as she thought it’d be. “Right.”
You turn away, getting a few steps before abruptly turning back around. What stopped you?
“You know, Cattails mean peace and prosperity. At least in Eleven. Many a feud and petty squabble has been patched up just,” you snap your fingers, “like that once people start exchangin’ Cattails.” 
“I…didn’t know.”
“And Katniss, the Arrowhead, is all about protection, courage, strength. And they can be surprisingly sweet.”
“...What do they have in common?” She can’t help but ask.
“They both have ‘ cat’ in them.” You say it so matter-of-factly, completely straight-faced, that it catches Katniss off guard enough to make her laugh. “They’re both resilient, adaptable. Bred for survival. You’d look them over at first glance, but they can save your life. But I’m sure you already knew that part though, huh?”
“Some of it.” Mostly learned from her father. “Why are you telling me this?”
“I think you have a lot in common with both—”
“Not just the stuff about the flowers. All of it.”
“Why not? Just seems like things you should know.” You shrug and, despite herself, she believes that you really believe that. “There doesn’t have to be some convoluted reason behind everyone’s actions. I wanted to tell you, so I did. You’re allowed to do things just because you want to.”
“...Right.” The last time she did that, a man had been killed.
 “Don’t brood over here for too long, Cattail. It’s bad for the baby.” Cattail? So close to Gale’s nickname for her. She doesn’t hate it, but she won’t encourage it. Things are hard enough as is. “I’ll go save my boy from yours.” She’s taken aback at Peeta being referred to as her boy, that you feel like her and Peeta’s relationship is worthy of being held up next to yours and Finnick’s. Maybe she’s a better actor than everyone gives her credit for.
You wave over your shoulder at her and she realizes with a dawning sense of horror that you’re more like Peeta than she wanted to be true. Seemingly kind without reason. Genuine.
A good person.
If she hadn’t been convinced before, then she certainly is now. She and Peeta need to leave. Because if she has to shoot first, she’s not sure her hand won’t shake as she notches her bow. She looks over to the group. To where Finnick’s face lights up with a grin at your approach and Johanna, Beetee, and Peeta sit in a semicircle and talk like friends. Only one person gets to leave here alive, and she needs it to be Peeta. That hasn’t changed. But it’s the first time she’s felt something like guilt because of it.
SECTION 12  (9:20 pm—?)
When he and Katniss guesstimate it to be somewhere around nine, they all start heading to the twelve o’clock sector. Not before he had Katniss check your wounds despite your insistence of, I’m fine, Finn. It hardly even hurts anymore. But he knows you’re lying because you hardly argue when he prompts you to get on his back so he can carry you.  
Finnick leads the charge, precariously stepping from rock to rock. He uses one hand to shift away obstructing vines and the other to hold his trident. Your arms are looped around his shoulders, your right calf resting in the crook of his elbow—the same hand gripping the shaft of his weapon.
As he slows down a bit so Beetee and the others can catch up, he’s glad they decided to head to the tree earlier than they previously planned. It’s not that they aren’t making good time, rather, he doesn’t want there to be any reason they’ll need to rush. No reason for any possible slip-ups, no potential to become sloppy.
They hike forward, led by nothing but artificial moonlight. Finnick keeps a good pace even while carrying you, leveraging himself uphill, gripping tree trunks to support the both of you. When he gets to a high point, the others a little ways behind, the Capitol anthem trumpets throughout the arena. 
You huff, warm breath hitting his ear, when Cashmere’s face flashes in the sky. He hadn’t been friends with her, just two Careers out of dozens floating around in the same circles, and as far as he knows, you hadn’t either. But he knows you don’t need to be friends with someone to care about them, that’s just who you are. He squeezes your calf. Effortlessly compassionate, one of the reasons he loves you, but it must be exhausting. 
Gloss follows behind her, replaced by his victim, Wiress. He glances over to Beetee who’s looking under his glasses at her portrait mournfully. Finnick looks away, right into Mags’s kind eyes. His nostrils flare, something in his chest pinches, but he doesn’t cry. Not again. You tighten your arms around his chest, keeping the blade of your weapon away from his face. You kiss his temple before laying your head on his. Some of the tension leaks from his shoulders as you move to press your cheek to his. You don’t say sorry about Mags again, which he’s thankful for. He squeezes your calf once, twice. A comfort. You’re a soothing weight on his back.
Other than Blight and the female morphling, no other people of interest appear. No Chaff, which is relieving. 
The music cuts out and they move forward in silence, the sound of bugs chirping following them further into the jungle. Thankfully, no birds.
When they get to the ginormous tree, he pauses, gawking a bit at the sheer size of it. Its branches cut a cruel figure above them. It looms all the more in the night, with shadows and a lack of good lighting making it look even bigger. 
So this is what gets them out? It certainly looks the part. 
He helps you off his back, ushering you in front of him as the others step closer to the tree. He looks over his shoulder, scanning for enemies hiding in the dark as hard as Beetee is inspecting the tree. Finnick grabs your wrist—“Stay close to me.” He whispers, looking away from you to the sky beyond the branches. Soon enough, it’ll split open and they’ll be free. It hasn’t fully sunk in yet.
“Minimal charring.” Beetee notes. They all look back at the tree trunk to try and see what he sees. “It’s an impressive conductor.” Nobody agrees or disagrees. How could they? “Let’s get started.”
Anticipation bubbles in Finnick’s stomach, making his hair stand on end as everyone follows Beetee closer. You raise your eyebrows at him, lips pursed briefly. You feel it too. They’re steadily approaching the climax.  
“Typically a lightning strike contains five billion joules of energy. We don’t want to be anywhere in the vicinity when it hits.” Finnick keeps his back to the tree as Beetee works his wire around a part of it, keeping his gaze glued to the tree line. But, for a split second, he glances behind him in enough time to catch Beetee looking you over from under his glasses, a quick clinical sweep before he says over his shoulder to Katniss and Johanna as he unspools more wire, “You two girls, go together now. Take this. Unspool it carefully.”
Beetee pushes the handle into Katniss’s hands, speaking so surely that you don’t even object to being excluded—which Finnick is very grateful for. You’re the fastest of the girls, and you have the easiest time moving swiftly between the trees and rough terrain. On a normal day, when you didn’t have an injury sinking you. “Make sure the entire coil is in the water. You understand? Then head to the tree in the two o'clock sector. We’ll meet you there.”
Beetee nods at them, heading back to the tree, and Finnick thinks that’s the end of it.
“I’m gonna go with them as a guard.” Finnick freezes momentarily, before turning back around to face Peeta. That won’t work. He can’t emphasize enough just how much that won’t work. Not only are the two of them active flight risks, no matter how well they think they’re hiding it, but they also need to handle the trackers as soon as possible. Johanna is strong, but not strong enough to take both of them.
“No, no, no. You’re staying here to protect me. And the tree.”
Finnick alternates between watching the trees, watching the increasingly tense conversation, and watching you. Working to not treat this interaction like it’s as high stakes as it actually is. They can’t make it seem like they’re eager to separate the two of them—which they are. It’s actually a large part of the plan. Some might say the crux.
“No, I need to go with her.” Peeta stubbornly digs his heels in. 
“There are two careers out there. I need two guards.”
“You have two guards.” Peeta gestures to you and Finnick.
“Allow me to correct myself. Two able-bodied guards.”
“Hurt or not, I’m sure she’d be much better at fending off the careers.” You shift enough behind Finnick to grab his attention. You purse your lips into a frown, one that he returns. He hadn’t anticipated Peeta being a problem, especially this close to their escape. Katniss makes sense, he was almost banking on her making this difficult, but Peeta is a surprise. You raise a brow, tilting your head minutely. But not a surprise to you. "Besides, Finnick can protect you just fine on his own.”
“Yeah, why can’t Finnick and Johanna stay with you and Peeta and I’ll take the coil?”
Finnick fully turns around at that, slowly creeping up to stand slightly in front of you. He doesn’t want it to escalate, but if push comes to shove, he and Johanna will just have to move in quickly to incapacitate them. And it really looks like Peeta’s ready to push and shove. Finnick subtly has his weapon at the ready, not enough to draw attention, but just in case. He can see Johanna do the same, moving her axe to her dominant hand.
“You all agreed to keep me alive till midnight, correct?”
“It’s his plan. We all agreed to it.” Johanna bites out, making the two of them seem all the more unreasonable to be arguing over who’s paired with who when they’re all trying to do their parts.
“Is there a problem?” Finnick asks, working to keep any aggression out of his voice, trying to make it seem like he’s just supportive of Beetee’s plan and won’t let anything obstruct it. However, he must not work hard enough because you grab his elbow. An anchor. 
“ Excellent question.”
Katniss’s eyes flick from Beetee to you and then back.
“No. There’s no problem.” Whatever trust she has in you and Beetee to not hurt Peeta apparently outweighs the distrust she might still harbor in him and Johanna. Peeta, however, doesn’t seem as convinced. 
“I’ll go with ‘em, Peeta.” You pipe up and step forward past the protective wall of Finnick’s body. “Six hands spreadin’ the wire will get us done three times as fast.” Finnick tenses at the idea, teeth grinding together. That’s not the plan. You going where he can’t protect you, again, has never been part of the plan. Maybe if you weren’t so grievously wounded—no, not even then. 
His hand lands on your shoulder, sliding limply down your arm to latch onto your wrist. “Star.” He rasps, dismayed. He understands a situation as delicate as this might require improvising and flexibility, but this isn’t something he’s willing to bend to. He’s not letting you leave his sight if he can help it.
You lock eyes over your shoulder, and that split-second look holds a thousand and one words. All of which tell him that you have no intention of leaving him, but Katniss and Peeta don’t know that. The fact that you even offered to go in your current state just to appease Peeta’s worry should be a grand enough gesture of goodwill to extinguish some of that lingering apprehension. 
If Finnick is willing to send you on your merry way to lay the wire without his protection, then why can’t Peeta do the same with Katniss? His thumb brushes the shell of your bracelet before letting you go.
He leans away, listing leisurely against his trident—he’s all lax lines as he regards Katniss and Peeta almost apathetically. “Well?” He raises a brow at them. Your move.
If he was Peeta, he’d pull the baby card, the only good argument he’d have for wanting to stay with her. But Finnick isn’t bringing that to his attention if he’s clearly forgotten.
“Like Katniss said, there’s no problem.” You eye Peeta uncertainly, much like how he looked at you in the elevator. Maybe that’s what makes him concede in the end. “And it’s probably best if you stay up here.” Finally, something Finnick can agree with.
Beetee nods, an infallible thing that conveys no further arguments. “That settles it, then.”
Of course, it isn’t that easy.
The two of you have stalked further away, out towards the outreaches of the tree’s massive roots, speaking in low tones. The distance is intentional and not just to keep him from overhearing anything. Peeta will feel more compelled to stay close to Beetee and watch his back, less likely to sneak off or outright run if he’s the nearest one to him. 
He leans down to hear you better, as you take turns subtly watching Peeta and less subtly watching the trees. 
“It’s almost over.” You mumble. “Not much longer, I’m sure—” Something cuts you off. A soft metallic sound, not so much loud as it is sharp. The sound a spring makes when abruptly bouncing back to its original position. Or, more accurately, the sound of a very taunt, very thin wire. 
In sync, you both turn and watch the suddenly lax wire coiling at Beetee’s feet. You turn to each other. He reads fear in your eyes that he knows is reflected in his own. The wire’s been cut and cut very suddenly. He hears voices so faint he thinks he’s imagining them, before a scream that can only be Katniss rings out. 
You don’t even hesitate to run towards it, which makes sense, he shouldn’t be surprised by it. Katniss is a key factor in their escape if not the rebellion as a whole. Every rebel vowed to put their lives on the line for Katniss and Peeta. Knowing that doesn’t stop his stomach from dropping at the sight of you running head-first into danger. 
“ Star!" He yells after you, but you’re already too far ahead to think about stopping. He tells Peeta, “Stay here and guard Beetee,” before chasing you. 
“Finnick, wait!” He ignores Peeta calling his name well enough, focusing on not losing you.
Despite your head start, he catches up to you. Quickening his stride, he overtakes you, jumping over a log to skid in front of you. You crash into his chest, but he’s able to steady you. You pant, sagging against him. As tough as you are, the wounds are doing nothing but crippling you.
Making noise isn’t a privilege either of you have right now. There’s no telling where Brutus and Enobaria are skulking around, no telling if Katniss still considered anyone an ally other than Peeta. You’re too hurt for this, and you’re only getting worse. He needs to get you out of the open. Head whipping around frantically to find—“C’mon!” He whispers, steering you away from the moonlit path.
"I need you to hide here, okay?" His voice shakes, heartbeat in his ears as he crowds you behind a tree where large leaves hang low and the grass grows tall. No one will see you here.
"What? No, we need all hands on deck.” You say, a Four phrase you surely learned from him, trying to stand up straight despite the way your shoulders shake. You’re starting to look pale, sweaty from more than the humidity. “We need to keep Katniss saf—”
"No. No, me and Johanna can handle that. You're hurt—"
"I can still help, Finnick." You beg, moving away from the cover that the tree provides and Finnick can feel the clock breathing down his neck.
"This isn't up for discussion," He whispers harshly, softening when you flinch back. "I can't watch you and help Johanna at the same time—I know I don't have to, but I will anyway. You know that."
He hears feet hitting the forest floor in the distance and curses.
"Once we handle the other victors and get Katniss and Peeta to the tree, I'll come back for you, okay? Just," you turn towards the sound of someone yelling and he grabs your face, "focus on me. Do you trust me?"
Your eyes are glossy as they look between his, face resolute despite the pain he knows you're in and the absolute hell breaking loose around you both. But for a split, vulnerable second, Finnick sees the mask slip. Your lips quiver as you nod.
"Then, please. Stay here. I'll come back for you, I promise." You grab his wrist, your grip tight. You're scared. He is too. Not just for himself, but for the rebellion. What it'll mean for the cause if this all goes to shit.
He's scared for you.
"I promise." He repeats, presenting his pinkie for you to take with your own. You hesitate. You hesitate long enough for Finnick to become hyper-aware of the sweat dripping down his neck.
You hook your own around his tentatively, and then certainly. Putting an insurmountable level of trust in him.
He leans forward, lips meeting yours, and he savors the feeling. He’d drink poison from your mouth if it meant he got to kiss you. You're soft against him, but he knows how tough you really are. He knows it must kill you to sit back and let someone else handle the situation, and you're right about them needing all the help they can get. But you're letting him be selfish and he loves you so much. 
"I'll come back." He swears into the air between you and him and you keep your eyes closed. "My Star." He whispers into your hair and hopes you can hear the declaration of love hidden in it. You squeeze his wrist one more time before stepping back.
He waits for you to hide before he runs off to look for Johanna and Katniss.
“Katniss! Johanna!” He sprints through the jungle, down the slope, looking for any sign of either girl and giving up any attempt of discretion. “Where are you?!”  
He leaps through the underbrush, pushing past vines and leaves, coming to a stop when something glints out of the corner of his eye. He reaches his hand out, grounding himself against the bark. On his left, down in a deep ditch, he sees some of Beetee’s wire, but not the spool and neither of the girls that should have been with it. He squats down, squinting at what looks like blood next to the wire. “Johanna!”
No reply. No shout, no groan, nothing. He rushes further down the slope and realizes it’ll only be a matter of time before he stumbles onto the beach, which reminds him he’s working on borrowed time. He turns around, looking up at the slope he just sprinted down.
“Shit.”
He doubles back, passing that same ditch in time to hear a cannon. It’s not you, he knows it’s not you. You wouldn’t have left your spot after promising him, and no one would even think to look for you there. It’s not a spot someone can just stumble upon. Which means it’s someone else, a complete gamble. The chance of it being a good thing is tragically low. He pushes himself forward, suddenly very worried about how vulnerable Beetee is. There’s no way Peeta actually listened to him, especially not after that cannon.
There’s shouting, and it sounds like Peeta, but he’s very faint and very far away. Almost as soon as Peeta starts yelling, Katniss yells back and she sounds much closer. “Peeta!”   
His relief is quickly followed by fear, fear that he won’t be the first person to get to her. There’s no telling if she’s hurt or not, but she can speak at least, which is a good enough sign for him. 
Another cannon fires right before he rounds back to the tree. He has chills despite how scorching hot he feels. Nothing. He sees nothing. Not a damn thing. His heart sinks.
“Katniss, where are you?!” He yells, chest heaving. He takes a second to scan his surroundings, hoping to see a head of long brown hair or maybe the light glinting off Beetee’s face from wherever he’s hiding. Hopefully hiding. There’s a very real chance one of those cannons was him. Just as he’s about to turn and look in another section, he sees her. Or, more accurately, he sees an arrowhead pointed right at him.
Silence. Neither of them speaks, both panting and wired. He raises his free hand slowly, trying not to give her a reason to let her arrow fly. 
“Katniss.” He had hoped it wouldn’t have come to this, had hoped for a lot, it seems. Hoped that he wouldn’t need Haymitch’s plan B. But it’s the last chance the revolution has and it depends on the next words out of his mouth. “Remember who the real enemy is.”
He holds his breath at the same moment it looks like Katniss holds her. That reaction could mean a lot of things. Could mean Finnick will leave this arena in one piece or it could mean he’ll leave with an arrow between his eyes. 
Please. He prays. Please don’t shoot.
She lowers her bow, slowly and then all at once. They regard each other for a moment. The sound of thunder cracks the silence, making him flinch.
Finnick eyes the gathering clouds warily. Glaring into the swirling storm. Suddenly, he remembers that Beetee said they shouldn’t be anywhere near that tree at midnight. “Katniss, get away from that tree!”
She doesn’t listen. Of course, she doesn’t listen. She must have some kind of death wish, she must not understand just how unlikely it is she’ll survive. She wraps Beetee’s wire around the arrow she had pointed at him and Finnick doesn’t think he can comprehend just how poorly this will end.
She aims at the sky, and Finnick rushes forward on instinct. 
“Katniss, get away from that tree!”
There’s a flash of blinding light as the tree is struck and Finnick goes flying back.
He feels warm. Too warm. The warmest he’s ever been. This heat. It vibrates through him, so deep that his bones must be shaking with it. 
No. 
His muscles. They’re vibrating, they’re tensing, they’re cramping and straining. It leaves him breathless, like a kick to the diaphragm. The pain is almost as blinding as the light was. 
In the second it takes for Finnick’s body to go numb, to become paralyzed, to become deafened by the bombardment of sound, his heartbeat speeds up so rapidly that he can feel it contract and relax. 
Every time he blinks, he loses time. 
He blinks and the hovercraft lifts Katniss’s limp body into the air. Katniss is taken away and he needs to find the others, needs to—Star, Johanna, Peeta, Star, Star, Star—he blinks and he’s fighting to stay awake as they airlift Beetee. 
He doesn’t know when his eyes close, but when he opens them, it’s to the expanded claws of the hovercraft. Fear seizes his chest as the claw descends to him because he knows. He knows if they lift him up, if they take him out of the arena, they’ll never find you. He knows you won’t move. Knows you won’t come towards the sound. Towards the pickup point. Because you promised him. And he promised you.
I promised, I promised, I promised.
He tries to move, to shift, to scream. To give you some kind of sign, some kind of signal. But he can’t. He can’t fucking move.
But even if you do move, you’re too injured, too far.
The metal talons slip underneath him. His eyes blur and he can feel the tears slipping down either side of his face. As he’s lifted, his eyes slip shut and don’t open again for a long time.
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DISTRICT THIRTEEN; HOVERCRAFT 
The first time Haymitch talked to you, you called him a jackass. 
Not that it wasn’t well deserved. He was being a jackass. No more than what was usual at the time, but enough to put anybody new off. That wasn’t what happened though. You weren’t put off despite it being your victory tour and having met hundreds of people who were no doubt far nicer to you than he had been.
But that didn’t deter you. You called him a jackass, yes, but not to be mean. It was an observation of a grown man who was purposefully acting like a drunkard. Haymitch was even more of an acquired taste back then than he is now. Instead of scoffing and turning your nose up at him, you left and came back with a flute of what he thought to be champagne, but was actually water. 
Even though you were forced to entertain dozens of people cloying for your attention, you kept an eye on him for most of the night. He would have thought Chaff and Seeder put you up to it, but, even if they had, the fact that you were taking the time to actually look after a stranger was insane to him.
The last time Haymitch talked to you, he reassured you that they would get you out—that he would get you out. You were skeptical, as you always are, but you trusted him. He saw it in your eyes, you let yourself believe, just for a moment, that it was possible. You believed in Haymitch. 
He looks at your picture now, the one Finnick gave him for safekeeping. It’s aged with love. A little worn around the edges, but loved. 
Stop shaking, he tells his hands, stop fucking shaking. He wills his body to listen to him just this once so he can actually look at you. Just let him look at you smiling, so it can replace the last time he saw you. Replace seeing your body getting airlifted by the Capitol with you happy and smiling. Safe and whole. When he hadn’t broken his promise to you and Finnick. When he hadn’t failed you.
-
When Finnick wakes up, it's with the biggest headache known to man and the intuitive feeling that something is very, very wrong. It takes a moment for his brain to tell his body he's awake. And when it does, he’s sore in places he didn’t even know could feel sore. 
He’s on a padded bed. There’s a pain in both of his arms, though he can barely feel them—as heavy and limp as they are at his sides. A twinge in the crease of his left elbow. He tries to bend it and it’s a laborious effort, but when he does, it’s to the unfamiliar sounds of beeping. 
His hearing is back, followed by the smell of antiseptics and burnt hair—the stale taste that comes from sleeping for a while. He’s in a medical ward of some kind. There must be an IV in his arm then, pumping him full of fluids. And in his right arm, there’s a deeper throb. His forearm itches, wrapped in a scratchy gauze—his tracker. Gone now, surgically removed. He tries to open his eyes, but it’s like there are hundreds of anvils tied to his eyelashes.
Star.
He floats in and out of sleep, he thinks. It’s hard to tell. 
The final time he wakes up, it’s to the silver-gray ceiling of a hovercraft. He panics for a second, not entirely sure whose hands he’s wound up in. He paws at the oxygen mask on his face, heartbeat picking up sluggishly. It’s new; it wasn’t here the last dozen times he gained consciousness. When he gets free, he waits for the beeping. But there is none. The IV hangs from the machine on his left. Weakness clings to him like a heavy blanket, tucked into all his joints. 
He pushes himself up, arms straining under his weight. Even that winds him and he sits, dazed. 
Something’s wrong.
He can’t remember, but something, something, something…
Something terrible has happened. 
It’s like his memory is filled to the brim with piles of rope tied in an impossible knot. He pulls and pulls, but there’s no end in sight. A chill goes through him as he swings his legs out from the blanket and over the side of the bed, feet bare. He’s still in his arena getup, though they removed his shirt and there are more than a few sizable holes in his pants. He’s bruised all over. Ugly splotches of purple, blue, and yellow paint the majority of the skin he can see. Various cuts and scratches are twining in between, like vines or the lines of a constellation—
“ Star!” And just like that, the knot unravels. He remembers the feeling of being paralyzed, stuck on the jungle floor as the sun streamed in and Katniss and Beetee were lifted out. He remembers the guttural fear, not at the prospect of death, but because he knew, in your current state, getting there on your own before the hovercraft left was incredibly unrealistic. He remembers how you gripped him as he kissed your forehead. 
But that’s just what he remembers. He’s been asleep for who knows how long, so they must have gone back for you. And Johanna. And Peeta. He does a sweep of the room. To his immediate right, Katniss lies in the same state he did. Only, she’s chained to her bed. To her right is Beetee, hooked up to more wires than he and Katniss had combined. But the reason behind that is the least of his concerns. 
There are more gurneys, all with medical equipment on standby. But they’re empty. All perfectly made, not a sheet out of place. 
He lurches to his feet. His stomach sways almost as much as his vision and saliva fills his mouth as acid burns his chest. There's a reason why you aren’t here with him. An explanation for why he didn’t wake up next to you. Your injuries were more extensive than theirs were. Needed closer monitoring, maybe even surgery. So he just, just needs to find a different medical wing. That’s all.
Each step is a conscious effort. Even now, his body doesn’t feel like his own. Every muscle protests his movement, even his brain. You’re here, on the hovercraft somewhere. He’ll walk every square inch until he finds you, because you are here. He doesn’t know how long it takes him to get to the automatic door. He just knows that there’s a pounding in his head like a grandfather clock. It feels nearby. If he could just press his fingers into his eyes, he could rub away the pain like an aching muscle. 
Instead, he presses his hands against the walls, using them as crutches as he shuffles and limps to—well, he doesn’t know where. He has no idea where he’s going. The lights in the hall nearly blind him, any brighter and his nose will start bleeding again, and whatever brain injury he has won’t allow him to focus on any signs. He needs, needs to…He needs to find Haymitch. 
Haymitch!  
He needs to find Haymitch. He’ll tell him what happened, explain it all away. He’ll bring him to you. He drags his battered body toward the sound of voices. He finally gets to the room where two men are arguing. Haymitch and it takes a moment for Finnick to recognize the calmer voice as Plutarch Heavensbee. Whatever he’s saying, Haymitch doesn’t like it.
“That’s it? Really? You’re a smart man, Plutarch. You and I both know that shit’ll fly over as well as a lame bird. You can’t expect them to just… deal with it.”
“That’s exactly what they’ll do, Haymitch. There was no guarantee they’d all get out of the arena. It’s a shame, but casualties happen in revolutions.”
“Yeah, I’d like to see you look those kids in the eye and say that to their faces. We’ll be lucky if they don’t end up planning a coordinated attack to crash your fancy hovercraft.”
The words he’s hearing don’t make sense, but he attributes it to whatever the hell is wrong with his brain.
The door opening cuts their conversation short. Finnick pants as he leans heavily along the frame. He can’t help but look for you, but the two men are the only ones in the room. Medbay it is, then.
“...Kid.” Something painful flashes in Haymitch’s expression, but Finnick dismisses it. He’s sure he looks pretty beat up, that’s all. “We, uh, didn’t think you’d be up moving around so early.” He approaches Finnick slowly and stares at him expectantly. He’s waiting for something, bracing himself for an approaching wave. 
“Haymitch.” He nearly jumps at hearing his own voice. It’s hoarse and raspy, and he’s acutely aware of how dry his throat is. “How long have I been out?" The older man grabs his shoulder, places a guiding hand on his back, and directs him over to the table they’re speaking over. Something he’s thankful for because he isn’t sure how much longer his legs would have held up. When he leans most of his weight on the cool metal, he realizes it’s more than just that. It depicts moving treetops and mountain ranges in light blue projections, presumably what they’re flying over. 
“Nearly ten hours,” Plutarch answers. Good. More than enough time for you to be out of surgery. 
“Where’s Star?” Haymitch goes still beside him, looking at Plutarch, and then back at him. Your injury must have been worse than any of them anticipated if you’re still in surgery. “Is she still in surgery? Or, or if she’s recovering in a different med bay, I wanna go sit with her—”
“Kid.”
“—I won’t be in the way, I swear. I just, I’ll feel better if I’m with her and I don’t want her to wake up alone—”
“Finnick.”
He opens his eyes, though he doesn’t remember closing them. His fists are clenched as he leans on them, nails working their way into his palm.
With the kind of blow he received, it’s expected that Finnick will be a bit absent. The medics told Haymitch to prepare himself to talk slower and repeat questions when necessary. But Haymitch didn’t prepare for this. He should have, but he wasn’t expecting the earnest hope in Finnick’s eyes as he determinedly clung to his senses. This has nothing to do with being electrocuted. He genuinely thinks you’re here. As the seconds tick on, Haymitch’s need for something alcoholic claws at him. 
“Here, drink some water. It sounds like you’ve been gargling razor blades.” Haymitch forces him to take it into his weak hands. It goes down uneasily. Though, luckily, it doesn’t come back up. 
The thick silence sits heavily upon them. Before he can ask where you are again, Haymitch sighs. 
“She’s not here.”
“...I know. Tha–that’s why I asked—”
“She’s not here.” Haymitch interrupts him. Finnick can feel his brain working desperately to make the connection, to fill in the blanks—of which there are many. Haymitch pauses, looking to the side and then down. He licks his lips. “We…we didn’t get her out.”
“What? What does—? Wha—” He laughs in disbelief, shock coloring his otherwise pale features. “What the hell do you mean?"  
Finnick sways, his determined gaze faltering to give way to terror. Haymitch prepares to catch him, but he doesn’t fall. He visibly steels himself, but the walls he builds aren’t nearly as high or impenetrable as they usually are. As the truth sinks in, those walls start to crumble, and Haymitch can’t feel sorry enough.
Plutarch takes over, though Haymitch isn’t sure how good of an idea that is. “We were only able to retrieve Katniss, Beetee, and you.”
Finnick doesn’t know what’s worse, that they’ve given up on you so resolutely or the fact that Haymitch doesn’t bother hiding how remorseful he is.
"You said that if we did this, we’d be free. You said you’d get her back to me." He hisses. Despite how his circumstances shaped him, despite how his father tried to raise him, Finnick isn’t a violent person. It’s something he’s capable of, but it doesn’t come easy to him. He wasn’t born with it in him, rather it was tattooed into his skin. You, however, wear violence like a heavy coat you’ve borrowed. It was never meant for you. With that in mind, Finnick lashes out with an anguished scream that rips his throat to shreds.
He lunges forward, his feet still clumsy and his mind disoriented, but Haymitch still struggles to hold him back. Finnick doesn’t know what he’s trying to accomplish, not sure whether he’s attempting to hurt anyone other than himself, but his fist strikes Haymitch’s jaw. 
“Whoa—stop!”
“You were supposed to get her out! What was the point?!” Haymitch tries to restrain his wrists. “What was the point?!"
People rush in. Medical personnel with syringes, ready to put him to sleep. I’ll let them. Before they can get close, Plutarch raises a hand and they freeze. 
"Finnick, we couldn't find her. Or Peeta and Johanna for that matter." He’s calm and rational, distantly sympathetic like Finnick is just overreacting. Like hearing this should be enough for him to see apparent reason. But it only makes it worse because—
"I know where she is! Just turn around and we can get her! Please." He pleads to Plutarch, to Haymitch, to anyone who’ll listen. 
“Believe me, Kid, I want to go back.” Haymitch grunts. Finnick’s weakened, but he’s not weak. At this rate, Haymitch will be as bruised as he is.
“Then go back.” 
"We're too far away with too little time. We go back, this will all be for nothing." Plutarch says. Like there’s nothing else to be done. Like it’s the end of the conversation. And for everyone but Finnick, it is. If you got left behind, then it was all for nothing. He struggles against Haymitch before his body betrays him. The anger that powered his attack evaporates and in its place now stands despair. His legs give out. He’s heaving and practically limp in Haymitch's arms.
Haymitch allows him to sink to the floor, and Finnick allows himself to cry.
Tremors wrack his body as he stares ahead sightlessly, lips quivering as he weeps. Cool air brushes his back like a feather, but he doesn’t even feel it. He can’t feel anything, only your absence. He feels it more than he did over those torturous two years he spent apart from you. 
His shirt had been so badly singed, they had to cut it off of him, is what Plutarch says, but Finnick is done talking to him. The man is saying something else, Finnick can see his lips still moving out of the corner of his eye, but he’s done listening to him too. 
Haymitch puts his cardigan over Finnick’s shoulders and slides a paper into his hands. Instinctively, his thumb rubs over it, over the subtle grooves and creases and he recognizes it even without looking. He presses a kiss to it, dry and cracked lips caressing your picture as he asks you, "What was the point?”
"I just got word from my men.” Finnick looks up, hope clear even through his tears. He should know better than to have hope, but he just can’t seem to help himself when it comes to you. “The remaining four victors in the arena...have been taken by the Capitol. They never took their trackers out."
That breaks him, Haymitch can see it. The kid just, he just deflates. Curls in on himself, forehead touching the ground—sobs.
 “You, you should have left me in there. Why didn’t you leave me in there? I wasn’t,” he gasps, hardly breathing at all. “I wasn’t supposed to get out. Not without her.” 
“I’m sorry, Finnick.”
Finnick says nothing, because what good does that do? Haymitch’s guilt, what good is it? Who does it help? It means nothing to Finnick, nothing to you.
“I’ve given special orders for Annie Cresta’s retrieval, if possible.” Plutarch reminds him. “With Snow’s attention split between the arena and Eleven seizing control of transportation, it should be fairly easy to slip into Four unnoticed. If that’s any consolation.” It’s not.
Eventually, the weeping tapers off. Not the crying, no. When Finnick eventually sits up, the tears are still streaming down his face. Haymitch is used to seeing him trailing behind you with a cocky grin, shoulders back, and carrying arrogance like a shield if his sharp tongue wasn’t enough. The man that Haymitch has grown close to over the years isn’t here, neither is the boy he once was. And neither are you.
“Do you see that?” Haymitch nods over to the shell of Finnick Odair. “You see that reaction? That’s what I tried to warn you about. Now, how do you think Katniss is gonna react? You think she’s gonna be any better?”
“He’s in shock. She will be too. But they’ll have no choice but to see reason.” Plutarch says and Haymitch’s face twists in disbelief. For how strongly he feels for the rebellion, Heavensbee is still Capitol raised. That ignorance shows like a flashing sign now. People aren’t ruled by logic, they don’t make decisions based on what they know to be true, not really. Especially not in this case. Emotions will be high. And considering it’s Finnick and Katniss they’re talking about, the one less adapted for it, they’d be lucky if they don’t go catatonic.
He nods. “Sure, sure. Once they stop seeing ghosts. And as long as their ghosts are leashed by Snow, you’re gonna be short two rebel leaders.” He says. His jaw aches from Finnick’s right hook, and his chest aches for, well, many reasons. And he is shockingly far too sober for the rest of this ride.
“They’re both intelligent people.” Plutarch counters. “They’ll understand that the revolution is more important than any singular person.”
“Of course they’re smart. There’s no doubt about that. But they’re also strong-willed. They’re stubborn. They’re kids. Pair that with them also being… stupidly in love.” Haymitch can see that none of this is particularly clicking with the other man and sighs, throwing his arms up in frustration. “You know what? Nevermind. You’ll find out just how much we need them more than they need us.”  
“Hm.” The ex-Head Gamemaker hums, not entirely convinced. But he will be. God, will he be. He’ll learn the hard way what happens when you live for someone else, and Haymitch will run as much damage control as he can. He’ll keep these two alive even if they hate him for it. He owes you and Peeta that much.
Finnick sits in silence as Plutarch and Haymitch speak in low tones. He thinks Plutarch attempts to talk to him a few times, tries to rope him into the conversation. Maybe to ask for his input or some type of council. But what good is Finnick to the rebellion now? How could he possibly think of the future of Panem when his future is trapped in the Capitol? 
Eventually, Plutarch stops trying, probably dissuaded by Haymitch. Finnick’s standing now, leaning heavily on his hands like he’s drunk. Haymitch must have helped him up.
“Maybe,” he wonders aloud, an open stream of consciousness that he doesn’t bother to censor. He doesn’t need to look at the other men’s faces to know he sounds as desolate as he feels. “Maybe if I’m dead, they’ll let her go.” They could broadcast it live. A hanging or execution by gunfire. Or lethal injection, so he can drift away with thoughts of you. 
Plutarch raises his eyebrows. It’s the first thing the kid has said in the last hour and a half.
Haymitch’s reaction is as upset as Finnick thought it would be.
“No. No, are you crazy? Your dying won’t help anything. Hell, it’ll probably make whatever treatment she gets worse. And you and I both know Snow didn’t take her just to fuck with you.” If Finnick was more present, he would have noticed Haymitch softening. But he’s not and he doesn’t.
Haymitch is right. Of course, he’s right. But it’s increasingly hard to see that past the tears in his eyes.
Later, when Katniss barges in and lashes out, as angry and despondent as he was, and has to be sedated, Finnick sits beside her in the same bed he woke up in. What a cruel twist of fate to be sitting at her bedside, wishing she was someone else while knowing Katniss is doing the same with him.
But there’s nothing to be done for that because he isn’t Peeta, and she isn’t you. And they’re both here when they shouldn’t be.
He stays out of the way as medics bustle around the room. They check her IV drip, measure out more medicine, and contemplate aloud if they should tie her down again. Ultimately they decide against it and leave the room one by one until it’s only them. Three patients in a room that should have held six.
“Katniss. Katniss, I’m sorry.” He apologizes, but even then it doesn’t feel like it’s really her he’s apologizing to. He wants to picture you in her place, lying here beside him, but Finnick’s imagination has never worked that way. 
He stares at your picture.
She mumbles something incoherent, which is more than he thought he’d get from her. Her voice must be shot. She’d been wailing. For so long. Even after they drugged her. He hadn’t minded. It gave him something to focus on other than his thoughts. A ringing in his ears that wasn’t from head trauma or grief. It was the kind of animal-like keening he’d only heard once before—from his father when his mother died.
And then she went deathly quiet. But even before that, she refused to talk to anyone. Like she was a wounded creature surrounded by predators and the only way she could communicate was by screaming and sobbing. He gets it, they wanted to put him on IV fluids as a precaution. You can cry yourself into dehydration and, apparently, he’s already at risk. Luckily, Haymitch talked them out of it.
Not that he would have noticed. Or put up much of a fight. 
“I wanted...to go back for Peeta and Johanna. For Star...” He trails off, blinks his puffy and watery eyes, and tries again. “I wanted…to go back for them, but I, uh, um..." He sniffles, “I couldn’t move,” he says. Not as an excuse, or an admission of guilt. He doesn't need her to validate or coddle him. He tells her because she has to know, somebody other than him has to know that he tried. 
And that he failed. 
She says nothing, but that deliberate silence speaks volumes.
“They, um, they took her, too. Th–they took…they took Star.” That gets a blink out of her. Or he thinks it does, his eyes feel swollen from crying. They offered him something for it, but he refused. He continues, feeling the need to fill the silence. “It's better for him than her and Johanna. They'll figure out he doesn't know anything pretty fast. And they won't kill him if they think they can use him against you.” He shrugs even though she can’t see it. “Knowing Snow, he won’t kill Star either.”
“They’re bait…aren’t they, Finnick?” Her speech is delayed as she talks at the ceiling, the sedative doing its job. “But you get rid of bait…when it gets no bites.”  
They should have given her some kind of tranquilizer or anesthetic, those would have put her to sleep. He wishes she was asleep, that her vocal cords were so strained that she couldn’t speak at all. He wishes she hadn’t said that, hadn’t brought logic into his delusion.
He tries to imagine what they’ll do to you, but his mind whites out to the sound of static. No. Not static. Your screams in the arena, once fabricated, but now made real. 
No. 
It’s both. 
Static and screams and static and screams and he covers his ears, weeping. 
“I wish she was dead. I wish they were all dead and we were too.”
-
Epilogue
-
THE CAPITOL
There are snipers at all possible vantage points. 
All hovercrafts have been grounded. 
Should anything be picked up by the sonars, he has given express orders for it to be shot down immediately. He had peacekeepers previously stationed in Two brought to the Capitol overnight, almost tripling their numbers. This close to an attack like that, he can’t afford to be lax in his security. 
Despite the extra muscle milling around, or perhaps because of it, the citizens cheer as he steps out onto the balcony.
Even after all these years, the sight of his faithful, if not at times inane, people falling over themselves at the mere sight of him is invigorating. It’s what he is owed, of course, what he’s due. It’s invigorating all the same.
Coriolanus allows himself to relish the feeling. He’s worked tirelessly to get where he is today, to get his country where it is today. Day after day, making the difficult decisions needed to keep the scales balanced so those unsuited for the task didn’t have to. Moments such as these, it wouldn’t do to squander them.
He raises a hand and a hush falls over the crowd, quelling the unrest. He surveys the audience, taking in their fears and hopes. He does not need to contemplate the approach he should be taking. He knows what his people need to hear. 
“Esteemed citizens. Today, we stand in the shadow of a grievous attack. An assault upon the very heart of our beloved nation. Yesterday's events in the arena were not merely an affront to our sovereignty, but a blatant act of terrorism perpetrated by those who seek to undermine the tranquility and stability we have fought so very hard to maintain since the Dark Days."
He pauses, allowing the weight of his words to settle over the assembly. There are very few people who witnessed the Dark Days firsthand and lived to tell the tale. Even less so now than when the war initially ended, their names almost all lost through death or forgotten by time. Despite that, he made sure the generations that came after were taught about it, and the words ‘Dark Days’ became synonymous with ‘horrors beyond comprehension’. Bringing it up has the desired effect. He watches as they shift uncomfortably. 
“I know many of you are concerned by what you witnessed last night. Frightened by the events that have left us all shaken. Your safety is my top priority. I will not deceive you, my dear citizens, I will not shield you from the harsh realities of our world.” A lie. A necessary one. But a lie, nonetheless. “Hear me when I say you have every right to be afraid. Rebels have infiltrated our sanctum, defiled our most cherished institution. They have stolen into our home, wreaking havoc and sowing chaos.”
A murmur ripples through the crowd, a tide of uncertainty underscored by a palpable sense of unease. Fear, apprehension. The perfect state for susceptibility. 
“But, they could not have done it alone. It is with a heavy heart that I must inform you that some of our own, once celebrated as champions—as victors, have now fallen into the clutches of treachery, their allegiance swayed by the insidious whispers of our enemies.” He grips the sides of his podium, leaning forward. “As of today, they shall be branded as terrorists. Enemies of the nation.” He declares and so it is true.
There are gasps and cries of dismay, of outrage. Aghast and stricken, the people begin to speak over each other. Murmurs turn into shouts. He allows it as he already predicted this very reaction. Accounted for it, even. He lets them stew in their despair for a moment longer before raising his hand again. Silence.
“It is a grave tragedy,” he says, voice heavy with somberness he doesn’t feel, “that the people we have allowed into our hearts, have put upon our very shoulders in an effort to uplift them—raise them from their stations, would throw our generosity into the mud...and our benevolence back into our face. A tragedy,” he nods along to his words. “But not a surprise. While we mourn the loss of innocence, we must also acknowledge a glimmer of hope. We have reason to believe that some of our victors, unwitting pawns in this treacherous game, remain untouched by the poison of rebellion. Swift action was taken to rescue the innocent and the unaware, to shield them from the grasp of those who would seek to corrupt and manipulate them. They were spared from the rebels’ clutches only by our decisiveness to intervene despite great risk. And we will continue to safeguard them from the horrors that would have awaited them at the hands of the rebels.”
There is a discernible note of relief in the air, a whiplash of emotions as they look to him for guidance. He had always been focused on the marketability of a victor, even when he was a boy. How to best sell them to the audience, what skillset should they develop, what makes them charming. As he gained power, climbed the ladder, those questions became someone else’s to answer. But it’s possible he set the foundation for the job too well. Though it was his intention, the citizens have become far too attached. And the victors, far too comfortable.
“But let me assure you, we shall not cower in the face of fear or despair. Our resolve remains unyielding, our commitment unwavering. We shall stand tall as we unite to root out this insidious threat. Let it be known that those who stand against us are not only enemies of the state but enemies of peace and progress. Enemies of every man, woman, and child in Panem that cherishes the stability and prosperity of our nation.” 
“Even the children?”
“What animals!”
“Where do they draw the line?”
The irony of their outrage isn’t lost on him. It’s why he said it, after all.
"Our path forward is clear. We shall embark upon a thorough investigation of every remaining victor and sift through the ashes of betrayal to discern friend...from foe. We shall leave no stone unturned, no shadow unexplored. And mark my words, justice will be swift, and it will be absolute."
A sense of righteous fury and determination sweeps through the crowd as if they’re getting ready to fight the war themselves. He would scoff under his breath if didn’t irritate the sores. Realistically, many of them would think about this for a week, a week and a half at the most, before moving on. Shopping frivolously, partying excessively, hoarding their wealth gratuitously. Living naively in the bubble he formed for them. Over half a century later and Coriolanous is still bitter that they’ve never had to understand the disparity. But that is how it must remain, this is what he strived to keep. The Capitol citizens relishing their opulent lives as a right and not as the privilege it actually is.
"Together, we shall weather this storm. Together, we will emerge stronger, more united than ever before. For in the end, it is not the darkness that defines us, but the strength of our collective will to overcome it.” He stands resolute as the cameras zoom in, just as he instructed them to. Fervent applause echoes around him so loudly, that it wouldn’t surprise him if it could be heard across the Capitol. He raises a hand in farewell, his mind already turning towards the trials that lay ahead. He finishes with, “Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever.”
“Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever.”
“And that was our brilliant president, making sure to reassure us all in these uncertain times.” Caesar Flickerman opens after Coriolanus’s speech. Showmanship has certainly become more wooden since the days of Lucky Flickerman, but it was a change needed to fit the times. He’s paid to be a distraction and he does it well.
“Wonderful speech.” His cohost, whose name he doesn’t know and doesn’t care to know, tacks on. He has no idea how the man has kept his job for as long as he has while being utterly forgettable. Though, it’s most likely they’ve just forgotten to fire him.
“Wasn’t it? Doesn’t it just make you wanna get out there and kick some rebel butt?” Caesar throws one of his legs out in the semblance of a high kick before breaking into his clenched jaw laughter.
“Now, although no names have been officially said, I do have my fingers crossed about which victors were saved.”
“You know, I hadn’t even thought of that, Caesar. I know I’ll be in the minority in this, but, out of all the victors left in the arena, I hope Enobaria was saved.”
“ Really?”
At the mention of her, he recalls the image of four victors strapped down to gurneys and unconscious.
He could have done without the woman from two, Enobaria. The rebels know better than to allow a potential mole in on their plot. As such, she’s completely useless to him, most likely to just be sent home. Johanna Mason, so willful, so self-assured. No longer. They'll see to that. 
Capturing Peeta was almost better than capturing Katniss herself. He told her to convince him of their romance and convince him, she did. It was nothing short of pure stupidity to leave him behind, but Snow isn’t wasteful. He’ll have a use for him undoubtedly, and he will have it soon.
And you. It wouldn’t be hard to find out if you had any part in the rebellion, and he knows you must have. For all your supposed obedience, you’re still defiant at heart. You can bat those pretty eyes of yours however much you want, it doesn’t hide the hate in your gaze. He chuckles. Always so resentful. But you’re far more clever about it than Ms. Mason and far more convincing than Ms. Everdeen at hiding it. They’ll squeeze every last drop, every morsel of information out of you—he’ll see to that personally. 
A clash was inevitable, it had been too long since the rebels had last made their move. Katniss and the heat her win garnered had all but handed them their opportunity on a silver platter. All of it was an annoyance, one he’d been preparing for. And, truly, it seems Coriolanus has gained much more than he has lost.
There’s a knock at the door that breaks him from his musings, followed by a Peacekeeper pushing it open. Behind them stood a timid girl, one of the assistants.
“President Snow?”
“Yes.”
“Your granddaughter is waiting.”
Coriolanus hums and says nothing else, the sound of leather rubbing against leather as he squeezes his hands into fists making her squirm.
He decided long ago to lead by example when teaching his children etiquette and virtues, and his grandchildren after them. Punctuality is one of them. With that in mind and without looking away from the recap, he says, “Very well. Bring her in.” No point in keeping her waiting. The girl rushes to do just that, almost tripping over herself when he uses two gloved fingers to motion her in. 
She sets up the communication device, connecting the call, and his granddaughter’s grinning face is projected before him.
“Grandpa!”
“Hello, darling.” He smiles briefly, irritating the sores in his mouth. “Was there something you wanted to share?” He wonders momentarily if she was saddened by his announcement, knowing how much she idolized the victors.
“I learned a new song today! Would you like to hear it?”
“Did you?” He asks though he knows saying she ‘learned’ anything is being very generous. “By all means.”
Calliope places the violin between her shoulder and her chin, getting into the correct position. She knows that much at least. Discreetly, he lowers the volume right before she drags the bow across the strings. He winces once she starts playing, another word used loosely, lowering the volume even more. She’s abysmal, simply simply put. So bad, in fact, that he can’t notice the improvement she and her instructor swear is there—he never does. 
But she only started her lessons very recently, she’s a novice. Unlike you, the entire reason she even wanted to take up lessons. Your skill with the violin is truly something to marvel at. After your moving performance, she’d been taken with the idea of playing herself. He’s happy that was her main takeaway from that night. And you’re a far better person to emulate than Katniss Everdeen. 
Coriolanus, for a long time now, has been of the mindset that music is only good for causing trouble. And he’s been proven right time and time again. Despite that, he’s always been partial to your playing. The way the notes soar and dance through the air, each one carrying its own emotion and story. You become one with your instrument, movements sure and fluid like you’re channeling something other.
You’re not a singer, it’s part of why he prefers you. You played so often, not because you enjoyed it, but because he willed it. Perhaps that’s where he went wrong in the past. He didn't need a performer. A bird couldn't truly be tamed without breaking its wings, after all. They were meant to entertain you with their primitive songs from afar. Heard, not seen. Birds weren’t meant to be cared for or doted on. 
You, however, invoke memories of the wayward lap dogs that once roamed the desolate streets during the Dark Days—lost, yet in need of guidance and a firm hand. You responded with surprising grace to both rewards and punishments. The sort of unwavering loyalty that could be harnessed. Akin to those loyal canines who, once taken in, never strayed far from their master's side. Indeed, there was no need to break you; you were already tamed, domesticated by circumstance and necessity.
His mind wanders to a time long past, to his grandmother's cherished garden. He remembers the times she would force him up to the roof to help her, tending to the whims of the temperamental woman and her equally temperamental plants, diligently pruning away the encroaching weeds. He could never claim to have a green thumb, but there was one plant he remembers being fond of: lavender. A hardy plant that survived longer than many of his neighbors had and was always so rewarding to see grow. Splashes of purple and green on the ever-present backdrop of gray had made those days a little less dreary. The memory brings a faint smile to his lips that leaves just as fast as it arrived. 
The woman is long since dead and so is her garden.
Coriolanus absently adjusts a vase of pristine white roses on his desk, contemplating the parallels between you and that resilient lavender plant.
So, yes. Perhaps you aren't an animal at all. Instead, a flower that endures. Beautiful and useful. And a Snow only surrounds themselves with the best. 
You’ll need tending to, of course, some nurturing. Just as well. You have quite a few weeds he'll need to prune, but he’s certain the end result will be just as rewarding as those sprouting lavender buds in his grandmother's garden. He’ll need that splash of color in the foreground of this eternal war.
And who knows? Perhaps he’ll have gotten you under control in enough time to have you perform at Calliope’s birthday celebration. You might even be able to train her yourself. A mentor yet again.
While Calliope continues to play, his eyes drift back to the recap. 
“Now, let's lighten the mood a bit, shall we? Did you catch that electrifying moment between two victors? I mean, talk about sparks flying!”
“Pun intended, I hope?”
“You know it, Claudius. Ha! If you don’t know what I’m talking about, or you were unlucky enough to miss it, two of our very own victors shared a firey moment on the beach.” They pull up a short video of your and Finnick’s pitiful display on the beach. "Oh, the passion! It was so unexpected, so intense, that yours truly couldn't contain his excitement, and well, I might have had a little tumble. But fear not, because we've got the clip ready for your viewing pleasure. Let's roll it!" 
“What’s this?” Finnick pulls you forward into a deep kiss with crashing waves and the setting sun in the background. “I—excuse me.” Caesar holds up a finger before passing out. 
"Ah, classic Caesar, always getting carried away by the drama!” He speaks in the third person, laughing at himself as the clip of him is played again in slow motion. “But seriously, folks, wasn't that kiss something else? Oh, what a moment! I think I need a fan myself after that!" 
"I was on the edge of my seat, practically squatting the whole night!" 
"Words right out of my mouth. Is it possible this fiery little dalliance flew under our radar all these years?"    
"You know, I wouldn't be surprised. Those two had always been pretty close. So adorable." 
"Too true, my friend. Too true. And you can bet your Capitol couture that we'll be talking about those two in-depth later. For now, let's dive into more highlights from the Games. Who impressed you the most? Which victors left you speechless with their skills? Which death rocked you the hardest? Share your thoughts with us about our all-star season, because the excitement never ends here at Capitol TV!"
-
END OF PART 1
A/N: I know this was a doozy, like WOOO. right? But that's the end of part 1, next part is mockinjay. might take a hiatus in between just to breathe and like, give me some air and time to plan. Come yell at me over on tumblr!!!!
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xixovart · 3 months ago
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argo2nauts music headcannons because this is too much
the misinformation some of you guys have spread regarding their music taste is insane/hj
(p.s: this is my take on this, if you disagree it’s alright!! it’s just fun and games :D)
(ps2: if any artist/band i mention is problematic please lmk!!)
percy - perseus jackson is a pretty intimidating skater kid with a resting bitch face who is covered head to toe in scars and has his ears pierced. where did the ‘high school musical/disney sitcom’ percy allegations come from. he likes led zeppelin (he canonically has a t shirt in toa if i can remember!!), childish gambino, d4vd, late night drive home, deftones, arctic monkeys, and chase atlantic.
fav song -
annabeth: this is a bit harder.. i think her music taste is either extremely varied or only listens to one album on repeat until her ears bleed. for my sanity i’m going with the former. i think she’d cry over boygenius and mitski (for obvious reasons) and i think she’d like sombr and famous 70/80s guys like queen, david bowie, ac/dc, the smiths ofc. and such. also mac demarco and phoebe bridgers!!!!”!?
fav song -
grover underwood - ADRIANNE LENKER!!!!!: THERE IS NOT A DOUBT IN MY MIND ABOUT IT. all of her songs suit him in one way or another. he needs to be seen more i love him to death. underrated man fr. also late night drive home, beach house, dream ivory, the smiths, queen, cas, WAVE TO EARTH!!!!!
fav song -
i know what youre thinking. “mali, will you ever shut up about this song?” answer is no. i will not.
piper mclean - CHAPPELL ROAN CHAPPELL ROAN IS HERRSSSS??? CASUAL? GOOD LUCK BABE???? HERS!!!! honorable mention: girl in red because don’t forget your roots. also madds buckley MAYBE? idk. also probably cas 🤷‍♀️
fav song -
nico - oh my beloved. he’d definitely listen to italian music when he misses bianca/maria but idk any italian artists so… for now we’re going with english music. and also very specific turkish song: m. by anil emre daldal because will. i’m thinking mitski, roar, mac demarco, OBVIOUSLY SUFJAN STEVENS??? cults, alex g, grimes, also very specifically: cupid by jack stauber? MAYBE conan gray… idk. and also definitely nirvana and guns n roses
fav song -
i heard this song while thinking of him and my heart SHATTERED guys do not make the same mistake i did.
hazel - i?? don’t know? really uhh… probably gracie abrams or adrianne lenker? phoebe bridgers, beach house?? soft rythm/music, deep/depressing lyrics. maybe tnbh but DEFINITELY current joys and adrianne lenker
(yes i made these first songs a rainbow on purpose (not rlly..) shut up i thought it’d be funny)
also this is her favorite song because it reminds her of nico and maybe marie, specifically the first lines!! (marceline [nico], is it just you and me in the wreckage of the world?)
frank zhang - MAC DEMARCO!! BEACH HOUSE!! TV GIRL!! CONAN GRAY!! MONTAN FISH!! GANG OF YOUTHS!! also his grandmother liked to listen to songs in mandarin and he likes remembering her so he constantly listens to 茉莉花 (Mòlìhuā) and uhh if you have any other old mandarin songs lmk :D!! and honorable mention: it almost worked by tv girl
fav song -
because it was his mother’s favorite song
jason grace - this is difficult.. like very. i don’t think he’d listen to music very much and it’s getting hard to not keep repeating artists. rmcm maybe? laufey, probably.. he listens to pretty much everything his friends to. he’s very flexible when it comes to music :)
fav song -
will solace - controversial maybe but i don’t think he’d like taylor swift very much.. no problem with her but i’d just like to see more variety in will’s music taste hcs. i think he’d love mac demarco (he’s been mentioned lke 8 times by now but he really is will’s favorite artist), tv girl, beach weather, the smiths, chappell roan, current joys, vacations, lemon demon, sufjan stevens, boygenius. conan gray, specifically summer child because it was written for him (i would know conan told me), and obviously the entirety of the mamma mia soundtrack. because it’s will.
fav song -
from the same album as nico because symbolism and that entire song is for them and tyem only (and also achicleos)
leo valdez - MY BELOVED!! very specifically the spanish part in stress relief (si puedes venir conmigo, amor, yo te enseño todo lo que hay. pq me tratas asi?? como no soy nadie ITS VALGRACE GUYS!!) uhh also chappell roan.. and your best american girl by mitski. and the smiths and queen and pavement. and lemon demon, the strokes, the cure.. maybe nirvana? and the front bottoms
fav song -
ok thats it im lagging so hard bye
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