Multi-Fandom Imagines

Red String (Finnick x OC)

A/n: Hello everybody! Today is March 22, 2021. "Hannah's father is a district 1 victor of the hunger games, her mother is a stylist and her father lived in the capital now due to district 1's privileges. Hannah was born and raised in the capital, but was taunt by her parents to be anti hunger games, due to her father being in the games and seeingnn the horrors along with being traumatized by seeing them when she was 8. So her and finnick met while her mother was his stylist in the games. They became friends and caught feelings when they were 16. She was one of the only person who knew the truth about his "many lovers" and she was there to help him through it. They started dating when they were 19, so maybe you can do something cute on them getting together. Like maybe him finding a break from mentoring or inviting her to his room at night to hang out and he confesses and she dose as well"

GIRL YOU WROTE THIS ON YOUR OWN

also i usually dont do 1st person pov but LOL WHATEVER IM TRYING SOMETHING NEW

WARNINGS: Mention of sexual abuse (with finnick)

What do I know? I know my name is Hannah. I am sixteen years old. I have milky skin, brunette hair, and ocean eyes. I live in the Capital of Panem. My father is the District 1 Victor from a few years ago in the Hunger Games. My mother is a stylist for the tributes. The Hunger Games is horrible.

We're all being forced to play this role.

I'm traumatized by the things I've seen.

But today, with this new batch of Tributes, something feels different. My mother urges me to hurry up and get ready so we can go to work. The only way for me to not be in the games, is if I participate in it any other way. For me, that's styling. 

I put on a white t-shirt under a long denim overall dress. Running my fingers over the leather, I admire the apron that my mother had custom made for me. I hate it, but I also can't help but love it. It's my token.

My mother and I walk out of our penthouse and through a few blocks to the main building where our stations are. We greet Peacekeepers warmly along the way, keeping the bile of our hate down. 

We pull back the curtain of our station to find a muscular blonde boy sitting on the cout with a towel wrapped around him. I blink rapidly and turn around, facing away. Sure, as a stylist I've seen many people naked come and go, but this guy...this man. It feels like an invasion of privacy.

I shuffle past my mother to arrange my grooming tools. I glance over my shoulder and he's watching me intently with a little smile on his face. "...Hi?" I say, almost like a question.

"Hey," he responds in a cool, low voice. The man holds out his hand. "I'm Finnick Odair." 

"Hannah," I respond slowly, taking his hand in mine.

\--/

It's been three years exactly. Three years since I met the love of my life. Only, he doesn't know that. The Tributes from that year had came and gone, but Finnick remained. And he stuck by me like glue. We vowed to stay friends before he left, and he held onto that promise throughout the games.

When he came back, we were happy together. Completely inseperable, and having way too much fun! Then Snow intervened. Finnick started having...companions. But not because he wanted to. I've spoke of my trauma from seeing the residue of PTSD from the Games, but seeing it more closely then ever with him is...heartbreaking.

Having him show up at my door in the middle of the night, sobbing so hard, and keeping him company through the nightmares will change a person. Especially when someone you love is going through it.

But Finnick finally found a night to slip away. Last night he told me he had a surprise for me tomorrow to celebrate 3 years of being friends. So, I change into a light blue puff sleeve dress and step out of the penthouse, looking around for him.

Instead, I find a trail of red string attached to the door knob. Untying it, I look up and see it leading into the stairway going up. I giggle a little to myself and follow it, fingers trailing the thin string as I climb up 3 flights of stairs. The string is wedged between the door to the roof terrace.

I open the door and gasp. Finnick is standing there in a suit, the red string tied around his wrist. Candles are placed all over the terrace, illuminating it in a pale yellow flicker. "Finnick, what is this?!" I laugh, walking over to him. 

"It's been three years. And I can't hold this in anymore," he says, sounding like he might burst.

My heart hammers in my chest and I shift my weight. "Can't hold what in anymore?"

He takes my hands and squeezes them, his eyes searching mine frantically. "The fact that I love you. I have loved you since you walked into that little stylist station in your leather apron. And I've loved you every moment since."

I laugh airly to myself. "Finnick...I love you too. So much. So, so much-" I mutter, reaching up to pull the nape of his neck in. Our lips collide in a passionate fire. The candles flicker, sensing our love radiating off.

When we break, he rests his forehead against mine and looks into my blue eyes closely. "Does this mean you'll be my girlfriend?"