#finnick odair x gn!reader

[bruisedboys]

finnick odair who refuses to wear sunscreen (he claims he’s “used to the sun”) but then gets burnt and whines like a baby and begs you to put aloe vera on him!!! you pretend to be reluctant about it but actually you’re happy for the excuse to rub your hands all over his toned back and shoulders <3 and the pretty sounds he makes when you do it are also a perk <33

[whillywisp]

Seeing a lot of talks about finnick as a dad/doting husband during pregnancy on the fyp and I must contribute to the conversation 🌱 (warnings: it's long and so fluffy you're gonna die). Part 1.

Part 2 ☁︎

The thing about Finnick is that he has a lot of love to give to anyone who would take it. His heart is overflowing with it, shining cerulean with it. So of course fatherhood came to him as easily as breathing—

Wrong. Have you seen that walking talking ball of anxiety, love and autism?

The day you tell him you're pregnant he passes the fuck out. On the floor. And when he wakes up he cries for an hour straight, thanking you enough times with kisses pressed into every inch of your skin he could reach that the words don't even sound like English anymore. He's so grateful, so fucking grateful and terrified but above all, completely and irrevocably in love with you.

Throughout the pregnancy, he's as paranoid as it gets to the point you have to beg him to please leave you alone and no, Finnick the baby won't be hurt if i eat too fast please breathe and let me breathe but it's all from a place of love. He's lost too much, almost everything in his life. The few people he could still keep were precious to him and he was not going to let any of them forget that least of all his babies. Or baby.

Finnick talks to the baby a lot. Asking the most bizarre question to your bump as if he actually expected a tiny, baby's voice to answer him. He was constantly on about something new and his favourite topic to talk about was whatever his new hyperfixation was and you just nodded and smiled because of course the baby wants to know how to do an alpine stitch! But it was so endearing and relieving to see him finally be happy, finally find a purpose, even if it was to just talk nonstop to your belly. He deserves this, these little pockets of happiness.

And one of his greatest happiness was taking care of you. Circling back to the fact that he starts hyperventilating when his lover so much as sneezes too hard, the hellscape that was pregnancy scared him. No, fuck it, it terrified him. So he did what he always did and loved to do and banned you from anything and everything that needed physical exertion. Chores of any kind were out of order. You were on a healthy diet of four meals a day and of course they included all your cravings that he always presented to you no questions asked thank you very much and you had to take naps, multiple of them, all with his presence as a requirement (you were sure those were just an excuse to cuddle you but you would rather take up another round of hunger games than call him out on it). He attended every appointment, had an alarm set for all the prenatal meds, and always a kiss for the belly and your lips just so you knew that this was it for him. You and your baby were the very centre of his universe and this was him orbiting you both. And you couldn't help but be grateful that you had him to love and cherish just as he did you.

And your favourite way of telling him you loved him was letting him take control over the one thing you knew he loved: baby shopping. With all due respect, this is the type of guy who bought baby shoes when he was eighteen with no baby in sight because look at how tiny this is it's so cute *big sparkly green eyes.* But it's particularly endearing watching him waltz around the store, arms full of onesies and plushies and you kind of just stand there, unable to do anything because what the fuck were you supposed to do at nine months pregnant and married to a man who you *checks notes* gifted a day where he could buy anything he wanted as a birthday present?

I promise you the answer was not 'go into an early labour the second he dumped the shopping bags in the living room' but who am I to say anything?

The baby coming two whole weeks early did not sit well with his anxiety. He was a mess, a complete and utter mess but he was also the most precious angel on this planet so seeing him holding back tears of fear so he could be there for you and hold you tight, so tight, because he was scared he would lose you broke your heart too. While the pain of the labour was bad, knowing he was close, holding you tight as he pressed gentle kisses everywhere, to cater to everything you needed, was enough to realise, he was the one. And you were going to fight through hell for him.

Such a wretched thing, love, you thought to yourself as you felt him shake beside you through the pain and haze, to ask you to hope against hope that the strain on your strength and your fading string of fate would persevere despite it all.

But you did. You survived and so did your precious little baby girl, and so did the last pieces of Finnick's soul, despite it all.

The first time he holds his tiny, tiny baby in his arms, something in his brain just clicks (or maybe his frontal lobe was finally fully developed because of course his baby picked the day before his birthday to make her own entry on planet earth) but whatever it was, it was perfect. His entire world narrowed down to the squirming little angel in his arms and he couldn't help but feel his heart leave his chest for the second time in his life to become hers. She fit right into the crook of his arms, the space in his neck. She fit into his life like another piece of puzzle that he never knew he was look for.

She was his little angel, his little girl. The person he never knew he fought through whole wars for but now, holding her against his chest as he watched you both sleep, he knew this is what he was meant to do. To love, to love, to love. For the sake of it. Simply because he could. Simply because he was alive and it was good enough reason to love with his entire being.

Part 1 because I don't exactly know if you people will like it enough to want more.

[luxbub]

100% finnick would massage your feet and your shoulders and he’s GOOD at it

I cant stop thinking about that side of finnick, i mean he is the king of massages!!

And especially after a stressful day and you come home as if like the whole world is weighing on your shoulders, finnick would massage you SO GOOD. He just can’t help it, with your lips in a little frown and slumped shoulders, he just has to do something about it.

So he sits you both down on the couch, gently pulls your legs into his lap and starts kneading the skin on your feet. He slowly trails his hands higher and higher up to your calf and something about his hands working at the tension in your legs makes you whimper at his touch.

Maybe some time after, you would turn to lay on your stomach and finnick’s thighs would go on either side of your hips, as his hands start trailing across the taunt muscles of your back, the tension melting away.

[puppy-coded]

I Got You {F.O.}

✰ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: food mention, the Hunger Games, reader is mad at Finnick for literally no reason, reader gets called “pretty girl” one time

✰ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Finnick Odair x reader

✰ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 820 words

✰ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It’s time for the 3rd Quarter Quell and Finnick tries calming your nerves.

✰ 𝐀/𝐍: Requested by @insane-horror-movie-addict​ and a quick reminder that requests are open.

You and Finnick were holding your breath with the rest of Panem as President Snow announced the third Quarter Quell. He had his arm around you as you cuddled up into his side, biting your nails out of nervousness.

When it was announced that victors would have to go back into the Games you shot up.

“Finn, can you believe this?” You asked loudly, shock evident in your tone and on your face.

Finnick shook his head with a sad expression. “No. I can’t. Surely it’s a joke right?”

You wrapped your arms around him with a deep sigh. “Knowing the Capital, it’s not.”

Finnick leaned down to kiss your forehead“It’s okay. It’s okay. I may be a victor but of all of them I can’t be the only guy right? I’m sure it will all work out.” He said, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

You looked up at your boyfriend with a worried expression. “But what if it doesn’t?”

Finnick smiled because he knew if he didn’t he might cry at the thought of leaving you behind. “Then there’s other men like me here in District 4. Don’t worry about me,” He said.

You glared at your boyfriend briefly and settled back down. “That’s a lie. Even if it was true, I only want you,” You said tiredly.

Finnick turned off the television set and kissed your forehead. “It’s okay my love. We’ll be good.”

“Okay.” You said with a slight smile. “I believe you.”

. . .

The next night Finnick was waiting for you on the back porch of his house in the Victor’s Village with a fire in the fire pit. He had marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers waiting on a chair for you.

“Finn, what’s this?” You asked.

Finnick smiled. “S’mores and a chat?”

Yo rolled your eyes playfully and sat down. “This must’a cost a fortune,” You pointed out.

Finnick shrugged and started roasting a marshmallow. “Just wanna see my pretty girl smile,” He told you.

You shook your head with a small smile and situated yourself next to him. You two only ate roasted marshmallows and talked for four hours. It was well after dark when you two started to get tired and ready to go back in.

Finnick smiled when he aw you trying to stay awake on the hard ground. “See? A fireside chat always heals,” He joked.

“Finn?” You asked softly to get his attention.

“Yeah?”

“Be careful in the Games.” You said, looking over and putting your hand on his leg.

Finnick kept a soft expression on his face as he knew that what he was about to say was probably a lie. “I won’t be in pulled for the Games. I promise. I got you.” He assured you, trying his best to keep his voice even. “Marshmallow?”

You took the marshmallow from him and smiled weakly. “Thanks.”

“Hey.” He said, gently shaking you so you would look up from the marshmallow. “I love you. I just want to tell you that much.”

You shoved the rest of the marshmallow in your mouth and smiled the best you could. “I love you too.”

. . .

After the Reaping you stormed into the Justice Building, fists clenched in anger. Not at Finnick but at the Capital but you knew that you would absolutely get punished for speaking badly about the Capital so... Finnick it was in your mind.

You didn’t mean to be as mean as you were but... well... stress does things to usually rational people.

As soon as he saw you he put his hands up in an “I lost” gesture. “Okay. I was wrong.”

You pointed angrily at your boyfriend and, man, if looks could kill then Finnick couldn’t even think of going to the Games. “Finnick you asshole. You gave me hope.”

“Okay, okay, we can calm down.” He said with his hands up between you two. “You have 3 minutes. Do you want to spend it yelling at me?”

You took a few deep breaths and looked down. “... No.��

He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead. “My love. It’s okay. I got you.”

You returned the hug and smiled. “Thanks Finn.”

“Guess what.”

“What?”

“I love you.” He said as he grbbed your head. He gave you two quick pecks and let go which made you giggle lightly.

“I love you too. Don’t die.” You told him, slightly giggly from the affection Finnick showed you.

He frowned at your words. “You know I won’t make any promises I can’t keep.”

You frowned and grabbed his hand, pressing a light kiss to his knuckles. “Be careful then.”

He put his free hand on you cheek and kissed the tip of your nose. “I’ll do my best.”

You looked at him sadly. “That’s all I’m getting isn’t it?”

He smiled the best he could despite the situation. “It’s all I can promise my love.”

[sleepy-gee]

Finnick learns how to braid hair because you've tried to learn but can't figure it out and Finnick learns in like a hour and always braids u hair for u 😭

AW YEAH

he's already really good with ropes, having worked with nets most of his life, so this wouldn't be a challenge at all!! and it'd become a stupid little habit of his, like if you're laying down with your head on his lap he'll just start braiding your hair out of nowhere, disassembling the strands before doing it all over again :((

[writesick-lover]

Just One Date

Finnick x reader!

A/N: I honestly REALLY like this prompt and felt like it could work for Finnick! It's a bit too sudden, but I think that's kind of the charm of this whole idea, sudden, unexcpected but exciting ;) I might make a part two cause I think I built too good of a background for reader (at least in my mind) so please let me know how you like it!

Warning: a bit of swearing and mention of killing if you squint

Prompt: “I need just one date.”

“You think you can woo me with just one date?”

“Absolutely.”

➷ ➷ ➷ ➷

It has been years since the perfectly arranged hell for Finnick Odair had started. But who would have thought about it? That the Capitol's sweetheart, the youngest victor who stole thousands of hearts across the whole country, now suffered in the wealthiest part of Panem?  Unimaginable. To be drowned in gold and washed in blessings, to wake up every day and have his plate filled with food and enough water to drink and bathe in, even for the whole day if he wanted but hate every single minute of it.

And though it was hard to grasp, that was Finnick Odair's case. Because Finnick dreaded every upcoming moment of his life since he was brought from his games as the victor, the survivor. The bloodthirsty drive to live, once warming his heart that followed him through each step in the arena, has now subsided, trapped by an iron fist of fear and desperation.

He could vaguely remember the first time those feelings had settled in, spreading through his veins like poison as he left his firts customer's bedroom, making him loathe every breath taken in and out by his body ever since. That's when he knew he would have thrown everything beautiful about his victorious survival just so he could live again. But that just wasn't the case for Finnick Odair, it simply wasn't his fate. And while his life was partially in his hands, he mostly felt like the blood of whatever part of himself he had killed was preventing him from moving on, from fighting. Maybe he grew tired of it. Maybe he thought he had enough of fighting for his whole lifetime.

He watched from afar, how fond the Capitol had become of District 12's star-crossed lovers, Katniss and Peeta. And for the first time ever since he was 16, something had awakened in him, a hope, that maybe this could be the end of his show. That maybe the citizens of Capitol had found someone else to watch and obsess about and he could finally be free. But that thing, that hope, was killed before it could even be aflame.

As he turned around from the glamorous couple, his eyes fell on the darkened blue ones, hidden like snakes in the snow made of white hair. The disgust, the abomination, the darkness screaming nothing but death brought Finnick to the harsh reality, once his gaze was met with Snow's. He was never getting out of this train. Not alive.

Until the spark inside him ignited again.

It was the meeting of the previous victors, one to which the new love-struck victors were not invited, yet they still happened to be the centre of its talks. Thankfully, the space was filled with only the comfort of people Finnick had known for a while and who had known him. There was a certain silent alliance the victors had built over the years. As he passed the familiar faces, sending polite smiles here and there, he caught a face that was very unfamiliar to him. You were new there, you have won only two years prior to Katniss and Peeta, the 72nd hunger games, which happened to be the opposite of the 74th year's sensation.

Finnick could remember meeting you in the Capitol, you're terrified tearfilled eyes meeting his, billions of questions behind them making his stomach turn there and then. But now you seemed just stiff, your guard high up. He would even go to the lenghts of saying you had an intimidating aura around you.

You could feel his stare burning your skin, so you turned around to face him, your mouth shaping into a genuine smile as soon as you saw him, your eyes sparkling in recognition. That's what he was talking about. All that pressuring shell fell right apart when you smiled or opened your mouth, earning you tons of sponsors back in your games. When you sent him your smile through your tears back then, Finnick could feel the butterflies rummaging through his guts. "Who are you staring at, Finnick Odair," Johanna's low voice beisde his ear made Finnick jump. "Johanna," he groaned, rolling his eyes as his right hand fell on his heart.

"The deceitful seemed to have caught you're eye, hm?" That was your nickname. The deceitful victor. Finnick remembered the talks once your games were over. You were called two-faced, a liar, and while some of the Capitol's people found this feature of yours absolutely unacceptable, others found it intruiging. After all it was thanks to your deceit, that you had won.

"They just seem rather... lost," he hummed, shrugging it off and turning to face Johanna fully. "Didn't expect you to come here,"

"Neither did I myself," she snapped back, looking behind her. "Blight dragged me here," Her piercing eyes slowly turned back, burning a hole in Finnick's face, the sole proof of the little affection the woman had towards him. "Charming. Make sure to say hi from me," Finnick grinned as Johanna scoffed, placing her hand on her hip and rolling her eyes dramatically. He could only nod, leaving the victor from the 7th District be as he made his way through the party again.

"They just did it right," one of the men in the group behind Finnick stated loudly, alcohol audible on his tongue by the volume of his voice. "Getting Capitol into their story, creating a perfect ballad except both of them survived to live the happily ever after," Finnick stopped in his tracks, the glass full of liquid spilling a bit on the grass under him, as he halted too quickly, not entirely sober either. He groaned as some of the drink got on his shoes but it didn't stop him from listening closely. "Do you get it? They are not harrassed by Snow or anyone, except the Capitol's undying obssession. They just continued to live in District 12, leaving as if nothing happened, as if they haven't just dismissed the whole history of the hunger games," a woman shrieked. Finnick smirked. Imagine leaving like nothing happened. That would be nice.

"That would be nice," another boy voiced the same thought. "To leave and spend your life with someone like that. They survive the games with you so you have someone to lean on, support, love, Capitol doesn't bother you that much, just to see what you already do naturally, it's-"

Freedom, was the word on Finnick's tongue. He didn't hear the rest of the sentence as it was drowned out by the sound of Finnick's blood flowing, his heart beating out of his chest as his eyes widened. Freedom, support, protection- no more abuse, no more hell, just peace. Finally, a bit of peace for Finnick Odair. His head spinned, his stomach turning from the sudden imagination, a certain heat spreading through his body, coming from his chest. The flame burned, burned in his eyes as he looked around, his eyes falling on you.

You were perfect. Capitol didn't have an exact opinion on you which was hurting your reputation as one of the victors. You could use some of those blessings Finnick was showered with daily. And he could use you. As his freedom.

His fast loud steps made you turn just before he stopped inches away from you, his feet rocking him back and forth for a while until he stabilised himself. You smirked as you thought about whether he was drunk, wanting to talk with you, but you were sure he had to be when his words hit your ears.

"Come on a date with me,"

You couldn't help but let out a loud snort, immediately clasping your hand over your mouth, the noise still audible. "What the fuck," your eyes landed back on his, the dark browns burning like two coals. "You're serious?" you stopped laughing, your eyes widening at him. "Yes," he nodded, falling silent again, waiting for your answer. "Why?" was another question that slipped out of your mind. You seemed to have caught him off guard, his right leg now tapping nervously. It was a good question. He didn't know himself, why, he just knew he was drunk enough to come up with such idea and sober enough to make it work. But he didn't think of you're answer taking so long. And you partially enjoyed it, finally seeing that confident Finnick Odair uneasy, his state suddenly depending on your answer. It made you wonder what was in it for him.

"Why not?" he finally spoke, voice raspy.

"Why yes?" you retorted back, making him roll his eyes. "We barely know each other, and correct me if I'm wrong, but this is actually about fifth time in our lives we even acknowledged each other,"

"So? Please, Y/n. I need just one date," he groaned, taking a step closer, you refusing to back away. It was always games, everywhere you went, the play never stopped.

"You think you can woo me with just one date?" you lifted your eyebrow in disbelief.

"Absolutely."

➷ ➷ ➷

>>part 2

⤞ My masterlist ⤝

[inatimate-icarus]

listening to “bones” by the rills the whole time bro

[strawb3rrystar]

Taking him.

Paring: Peeta Mellark, Haymitch Abernathy, Finnick Odair, Coriolanus Snow, Sejanus Plinth x GN! Reader

Warnings: Oral (M! Receiving), Throat fucking, Cum play, Dacryphilla, Teasing, Size diffrence

Word count: 350+

✰Masterlist

✰Peeta Mellark is so soft and gentle. He'll just sit back and watch you take his cock. Will buck his hips a few times, but let's you go at your own pace. He becomes a whiny, desperate mess quickly. Your mouth just feels too good, though! He can't help that his eyes roll back as he cums down your throat.

✰Haymitch Abernathy is the complete opposite of the precious baker boy. He will grab your hair and fuck your throat raw. He loves using your tight little throat like a fleshlight. And who are you to deny the poor alcoholic some relief from his stressful life? Just make sure you look up at him with cute tears in your eyes, and swallow every last drop of cum that he gives you.

✰Finnick Odair doesn't want to hurt you in any way. Sure he gently pushes your head down on his cock. And maybe he likes it when you choke and gag a little too much. But he'll always wipe the tears that spill from your eyes. When he gets close, he'll pull out of your mouth and fist his cock until he cums on your perfect face.

✰Coriolanus Snow can switch up on you in two seconds. Some days, he'll let you tease the shit out of him. Running your tongue around his tip and across every vain of his cock. Other days, he'll have your knees hurting while he bullies his tip in the back of your throat. And press on the bulge it makes to make you gag and recoil, only for you head to be shoved back down. Your nose against his boney pelvis as he expects you to worship his cock like the slut you are.

✰Sejanus Plinth is an absolute sweetheart but is too big for his own good. He doesn't even need to try to make your jaw hurt by the end of it. He feels so bad and sometimes ashamed of his size because of this, so reassure him by letting his cum fill your mouth. He's such a good boy, letting you do whatever you want to him. Most of the time, you end up only able to take half while you jerk off the other. He loves it when you suck him off and will gladly return the favor.

Star's notes -> Here's a birthday special post :3 Happy birthday to me!!

(Requests are open!)

Taglist -> @arzua10 @candiedhearts55 @delightfulbelieverwerewolf @toxicbimbo @ihearthekitty @shyunivrse | Join the taglist

[phefics]

come take a dive

ship: finnick odair x reader summary: reader rides finnick's face. prompted by anon!! includes: afab!reader, gn!reader, slight insecure!reader (she's nervous to sit on his face bc she's worried to hurt him but her weight/body type isn't mentioned), face sitting, f!receiving oral, vague mentions of finnick’s canon sexual trauma asked to be tagged: @lufvg word count: 0.9k

"I can hold my breath for a pretty long time," Finnick said, smirking. "So you don't have to worry about me, baby.”

You laughed at his words, but there was a nervous shake to the sound. It had been his idea, for you to try sitting on his face, and he was insistent that you could actually sit.

As in, put all your weight down on his face and focus on nothing but your own pleasure, which was an incredibly generous and appealing offer, but…a little scary, too. Surely even Finnick’s well-trained swimmer’s lungs couldn’t withstand being smothered by your thighs.

He had already survived so much, it would be incredibly pathetic of him to die like that. When you told him as much, he grinned and said, “At least I’d die doing what I loved.”

You had rolled your eyes, but it had managed to ease your nerves. And so, you finally agreed to give it a shot, much to his delight.

Finnick’s past sexual encounters had not been about love or intimacy. When you met him, sex was something that he did because he had to, because it kept him safe, and well, he learned some valuable Capitol secrets along the way.

But now he was free of that life, and sex had become something entirely new and exciting for him. He especially enjoyed making you cum, as if your pleasure was something sacred to him.

Perhaps it was. To know that he had made you feel good, not because he was required to, but because he wanted to. Because he loved you, and he loved to make you feel good.

You hovered over him on the bed, bare from the waist down, only wearing one of his t-shirts. You straddled his shoulders, looking down at his face with a nervous grin.

“You sure about this?” you asked.

“Absolutely. Are you?” he replied, large hands rubbing soothing circles on your thighs, sneaking grabs at your ass.

“I think so. Do you promise you’ll tap out if you need?”

You had previously agreed that if Finnick ever felt triggered during sex, he would tap your nearest body part three times, quickly. The same applied to this situation, whether it was something that upset him or merely the fact that it could be difficult to breathe properly with his face being smothered by your pussy.

“I promise,” he assured you. “Now, c’mon. I wanna taste you.”

It was hard to resist when he spoke like that, and so you took a deep breath before adjusting your position so that your already wet pussy was right above Finnick’s pink, perfect mouth.

Slowly, you lowered your hips, sinking onto his face and gasping as his tongue immediately went to work, lapping at your clit desperately.

You moaned softly, grabbing the headboard to keep yourself steady. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but you understood the appeal.

Finnick whined against you, the action tangible against your cunt, a little vibration that made you pull up in surprise, just a tiny bit, but he wasn’t having that. His hands grabbed your hips and pushed you back down onto his face, his tongue fucking into your hole.

It felt incredible, and you whimpered at the mixture of sensations: His strong grip, holding you in place, fingertips digging into your flesh. His tongue, moving inside of you. And, most interestingly, his nose, which was nudging against your clit, keeping the nerves stimulated while his mouth was otherwise occupied.

You weren’t even sure he was doing it on purpose. Perhaps it was just a lovely coincidence, but the friction made your hips move of their own accord, rutting on his face desperately.

All the moving, combined with your wetness, it caused Finnick’s face to practically slide along your slit, somehow leading to the tip of his nose touching your hole, making you jump in surprise. It didn’t feel bad, but it was definitely a strange feeling. Not bad, though.

You felt Finnick chuckle beneath you, mumbling something that sounded like ‘sorry’ as he fumbled to reposition you.

“Don’t be,” you breathed.

He returned his mouth to your clit then, finally deciding it was time to make you cum, and it didn’t take him long to bring you there. Your legs shook as your orgasm built, and Finnick held you tightly in place until you were crying out.

You carefully got off of him before laying beside him on your back, your body still shaky and pumped with adrenaline. Your legs ached from holding that position and your thighs were soaked.

Finnick rolled onto his side, smirking at you. His face was damp, shiny with your wetness. “See?” he said.

You rolled your eyes, giggling. “Okay, yes. It was worth it.”

“Are you gonna thank me?”

“For convincing me or for making me cum?”

“Both.”

You smirked, eyeing Finnick’s hard cock in his pants. “I know a way to show you just how grateful I am.”

He grinned.

[toothfa-1-ry]

METAMORPHOSIS -finnick odair

The capital has a way of messing up with your head. Finnick saw it happen to him, he saw it happen to Peeta and worst of all, he had to see it happen to you too

GENRE: Angst

PAIRING: Finnick Odair x gn reader,

WARNING: PTSD, mental illness and abuse, suicidal thoughts, self harm on Finnick's part, reader want through a lot of psychological abuse and physical abuse, Finnick has panic attacks basically very hunger games coated abuses

A/N: back in for a hot minute with the new release of a the ballad of songbirds and snakes! I seem to be pulled back into the hunger games lol however since it's been a pretty long time since I've read or watch the movies this fic is probably not going to be accurate at all! Also I have no idea how to end this fic so I just did it in a hurry. I don't rlly like how it came out but oh well!

You weren't supposed to get taken away

You weren't supposed to fall back down behind, you weren't supposed to be left behind while Finnick was distracted talking to Katniss.

Finnick wasn't supposed to leave you behind, he was supposed to stay by your side just like he promised. He wasn't supposed to let you be taken away and yet your there stuck in the capitol while he lies with wounds all over his body in the 13 district

It should have been him, he thinks, that maybe if he had switch places with you in that moment, that he was right next to you instead of ahead of you, that he would pulled you towards him, maybe..maybe you would be there next to him.

Maybe you would be lieing next to him, perhaps is bruises and wounds as bad as his but atleast the both of you would be safe in each others arms.

Finnick knows that he should get out of his room. The plain cold room with grey walls seem to surround him on all four sides and yet his grief seems to swallow him as a whole

The ringing sound in his ears continue relentlessly and the tremble in his hands refuse to go. He'd find himself picking his scabbed scars and almost healed wounds and waking up in the dead of night screaming. He finds himself scarring his once golden skin which now seemed rusted with red and all of his old wounds once which was kissed by you being reopened at the dead of night.

He screamed screamed for you, every night and even while he was awake he seemed to be mumbling your name over and over again under his breath. As if believing that if he did so that maybe you'd appear infront of him and tell him it's just a bad dream

Sometimes he'd be forced out of his room, sometimes it's by Haymitch or some other person. He couldn't care less, however he was also a beacon of hope for the people maybe not flaming as bright as Katniss the girl on fire but rather hope like the beach waves hitting the shore

But you were different. You were a different kind of hope, not burning bright and flaming with fumes like Katniss or calm and majestic in all its glory like Finnick but you were like moon.

Hope like the moon in the dark night sky guiding travelers for the past million centuries, sailors, prophets and even kings and helping them find way back to their homes, to their solace. You were the light in the dark, a elegant beam of radiance showing way even to a poor man.

You were Finnick's light. The only thing that helped him see, the only time he felt truly like himself not like the capitols charming prince, or the victor from the 4th district but rather just like plain Finnick. The boy who had golden tan skin, hair dry with salty sea water, the boy who smelled like the sea ans the boy he once was before the capitol got a hold of him.

Like the moon's reflection on the ocean bed in the calm, you were a beam of radiance to him that helped him sleep in night, safe and sound..and loved.

He misses you more than he remembered you. And it scared Finnick.

Being forced out was now a usual thing for Finnick. Being forced to sit in a cafeteria with a plate of food which would go cold and remain uneaten.

He usually stayed alone still away from the others which was unlike him but his mind would be plagued with the last look you gave him, his ears repeating your mortifying scream

Sometimes he'd talk to Katniss. She understood him, after all her Peeta was taken away to just you were taken away. Both Finnick and Katniss blamed themselves more than they should have,

He thinks, at first that he is a little envious of Katniss and the way she looks strong. She holds herself in a way he doesn't. He thinks, how does she do it? How does Katniss remain like a fire burning torch when Peeta the person she adores the most is gone like how you were

But then he hears a familiar voice, he sees a all too familiar face across the tv screen and he is immediately filled with desperation and dread. He looks at Peeta's stoic and unmoving face on the tv screen and he feels the tremble beginning in his hands again.

The capitol couldn't have..could they? They wouldn't have- they couldn't have done it. They didn't kill Peeta but..they seemed to have done something even worser

Finnick's thoughts are left troubled when it was disturbed a loud sound of a metallic plate dropping and a cry of despair

He sees Katniss, her tears and the way her hands fly towards her mouth and try to cover her cry.

Thats when he notices the bags under her eyes and the cuts on her hand. He notices the way her heart sank just like his did and he notices the way Katniss called out Peeta's name. He remembers the way she held him in the games and the way she begged him to live

He thinks, maybe they aren't so different at all.

"he's alive..he's alive" Katniss whispers under her breath and Finnick's holds his, his eyes scan the tv screen scanning for your face whi- and he sees it.

Your face in the background, your hair combed and slicked backed tightly into a bun. Your faced filled with white powdery makeup making you look almost as if you were a corpse. Your eyes seemed scarily full and your lips dry.

But you weren't dead, but you didn't really seem alive either.

The fact that you were alive had a unsettling feeling in Finnick but right now he couldn't care, you were alive and breathing

"y/n" Finnick breaths out as he runs towards the screen with no hesitation. His mind is no longer on Katniss or Peeta or the capitol but at you and your face.

His trembling fingers slowly trace your face as he cries your name out repeatedly, he isn't listening to what Peeta is saying or all the commotion in the back

Your alive.

"they're back! Peeta, Johanna and y/n they- they're back"

Finnick runs faster than he has ever done in his entire life.

Faster than he did in the hunger games or faster than he did from the capitol people after they were done with their business with him in their bedrooms.

He throws down whatever he was holding in his hands, leaves whatever thought was occupying his head and runs faster than he ever did

He doesn't care about whether he hit someone or if he was making too much noise. He cried your name out as he ran calling you, searching for you before opening the door with a bang, his eyes red with tears and trembling body.

He sees you in a wheelchair lying lifelessly in the the chair which held your body.

He doesn't notice the way everyone else in the room looks at him, Haymitch, the doctors or nurses or even Johanna who was sitting in a similar wheelchair a few metres away from you. They way they all immediately stood up straight and their body tense, the way their faces were looking at him with pity

Finnick feels as if though he had stopped breathing, every single bone in his body moves automatically. The tears stream across his golden skin as his hands itch to touch you

All he needs is you. All he needs is your touch, your warmth

He runs towards you unaware of the way you tensed up when you saw him, he shouts your name as his hands stretch out to finally hold you, he begs for forgiveness again and again but finds you shaking instead

"Finnick don't go near her- wait Finnick don't" Beetee's immediate warning fails when you start thrashing against Finnick's touch

"y/n?- y/n my love? What's wrong?" Finnick panics as he tries to calm you down as you shout and scream

Just a few seconds ago you were silent and unmoving refusing to speak but here you were with Finnick, screaming and crying trying to get away from him like he was a monster

"my love please-" Finnick begs as his hands touches your face, the panic in his voice and the tears unhidden from anyone. The despair and regret dripping from his words and unhelpful touches which seem to drive you insane even more

"away! Get away from me! I- get away! away!" You try to push Finnick away but your not that strong. You seem to be repeating the same things again and again but you shake your head and scream even louder than before

"Finnick let go of her- don't Finnick!" Finnick's hears the others shouting at him but he can't let you go, not when you don't even recognise him

"it's me- it's me y/n. It's Finnick your sweetheart" his voice cracks at the nickname you gave him, his eyes search for a second of recognition or even love but your eyes are filled with terror and fear

"y/n it's me! I'm here now! I'm sorry I'm never going to let you go- please y/n..it's me" he begs and pleads you but you don't stop resisting against him even going lengths of hitting him with your hands helplessly

"Finnick let go!" Finnick hears Haymitch shout as he pulls him away from you "she isn't the same y/n you know- the capitol played with her mind"

Finnick feels his entire world go cold, his skin gone numb and his brain feels all muddy. There's a dark deep sinking feeling in his gut as he watches you look at him in complete fear, crawling away from him and into the corner of the room hugging yourself

Finnick takes a few steps towards you but is fiercely pushed away by a agitated Johanna "get the fuck away from her Finnick!"

Johanna glares at Finnick alongside with everyone in the room before she runs to the corner you were sobbing in and cradles you in her arms muttering "don't touch us, don't touch us" again and again.

"what- what do you mean? What's going on?" He turns and looks at the faces in the roomwhich was responded with a nervous glance. Finnick feels his blood boil and his anger consume him

"I said what do you mean" he shouts "what the hell happened" his eyebrows furrowed as he watches Betee struggled to form sentences

"we- we don't know exactly what happened" Betee says as he motions towards you and Johanna who was rocking you in her arms, shooting everyone in the room dirty looks still repeating the same words

"but-"

"but what? what...what happened to my y/n why.. why does she seem afraid of me? Why is she scared-" His voice cracks before he began to sob uncontrollably "why?"

The room goes silent and all that could be heard was Finnick's sobs and yours alongside with Johanna's muttering.

Haymitch walks slowly to Finnick and holds him in the shoulder "I think..you should sit down somewhere while we talk about this" he says grimly as he turns around and gives looks at the rest of the people in the room to give them some space

Finnick's breathing is shallow as he listens to Betee. The more he listens the more he wishes that he were dead, that it was all fake. He wishes even more that it was him who was taken into the capitol and regret and anger fills him up

"the capitol obviously wasn't going to let it slide, I mean y/n she- she was the capital's sweetheart. She was one of their favourite victor and seeing her being a part of the uprising? Snow would have never let her or any of them for the fact go unscarred but, we never expected this much"

Betee continues in a whisper, he stops every 2 minutes and looks at Finnick to say something but Finnick would always remain silent and unmoving.

"Johanna she- she's developed this insane fear of water- she was drowned multiple times by the capital and Peeta he..he was also brainwashed. He has developed this insane hatred for Katniss."

"and y/n?" Finnick finally broke his silence "what did they do to her?" You could hear the desperation leaking from his voice, his voice at the verge of breaking

Betee seemed to be hesitant to say, often refusing to make eye contact with Finnick but he sighed and looked straight at him

"y/n was strapped. She was strapped into this machine and they kept on fiddling with her memories. She couldn't differentiate with what was real and what wasnt. They inserted this entire new plot into her head which she now believes some parts of it to be true"

Finnick breathing stopped, a chill ran down his spine as he internally begged that it was not what he was thinking of

Betee looks up to Finnick with sadness and guilt painted in his eyes, he didn't want to break it to Finnick this way. He knew how much it would hurt him

"Finnick" Haymitch says instead, choosing to be the one to break the news to Finnick "y/n, she's scared of you. Just like how Peeta has developed hate for Katniss, y/n has developed fear towards you."

A all too familiar feeling came over Finnick. He was where he was in the beginning. He was nothing but a monster, a killer, a damaged product before you came along and showed him a new path but he had to ruin everything. He had to break you too, he had to ruin you too, it was all his fault

Panic engulfed Finnick as it hit his very core, today was the day he got you back and yet today was also the day he seemed to have forever lost you

"but-" he trembles as he talks "but why- what did they show her? What did I do to her" his breathing becomes fast

"it's not your fault" Haymitch says as Betee nods his head "we're trying to figure that out right now"

"is it only me?" Finnick's blood shot eyes pierce Betee's "am I the only person she's scared of?"

"she's scared of everything and everyone except for Johanna. Johanna was the only one who was there to comfort her but Johanna herself isn't in the right mind right now either" Betee replies

"oh" Finnick's voice is empty and hollow, he doesn't want to ask the question but it seems inevitable "will she ever stop being scared of me?"

Finnick is scared of Betee's answer, his heart hammered agains his chest in panick "do you think..I can get her back?"

Betee purses his lips as he continues "it won't ever be the same Finnick. Y/n.. whatever they implanted in her head has been recognised as real to her now but if we keep on pressing on with the truth maybe" he looks hopefully at Finnick "maybe you could get a piece of her back, not fully but a fragment of her"

"I just..I just want her, I don't care if it's a piece of her or whatever. I just..I want her to be okay"

Betee just nods his head wordlessly as he watches Finnick break down. Right infront of him was probably the strongest person he ever knew, he watched him during his games, watched him become victor and knew everything he went through but he never saw Finnick this broken.

"I'm going to get her back" Finnick says "if that's the last thing I ever do I swear, she's going to be okay"

[loveliestlovelygirl]

one of his girls

finnick odair x gn!reader

synopsis: stuck in a long elevator ride with finnick odair himself, he promises to save you a dance at the capitol party. with him, you become the center of attention instantly. the guests watch in envy, most of them wishing they were you. but finnick has his own motives for his pursuit of you.

w.c: 2.2K+

highlights: {minors dni} dark content, implied sex trafficking, alcohol, capitol party, social hierarchy, sexual content, lack of aftercare

Finnick’s suit jacket is navy but darker. Something like a midnight blue. The fabric is shiny, so shiny that you can faintly see your reflection on his bicep.

“Pretty.”

Startled that he would speak to you or even notice that you were standing beside him. You are a nobody compared to him. “T-thank you,” you stutter. His voice is enticing in a way. Not deep. But unapologetically masculine and yet soft at the same time. It haunts you. Any reply you could fathom would be but nonsense.

He chuckles. His smile is big. “Oh, I meant my suit.”

Suddenly, the elevator you are riding in together seemed even smaller. You can’t escape your embarrassment. It suffocates you entirely. Completely mortified by your assumption, you hang your head to hide your building tears. Why do I have to be such an idiot!

The hundreds of people at the party above would kill to be in this elevator with him. And you choose to act a fool.

When Finnick turns your way, you glance up just enough to really view his outfit. His shirt is made from a sheer black fabric, and his jacket is left open. You can see every ripple along his abdomen. You curse yourself for noticing.

“You are too though.” He leans down a bit to meet your eyes. “I just like this suit, don’t you?”

“Yes, it… becomes you.”

Finnick gives you a satisfied smirk. “Ah, my first compliment of the night.”

You cover your mouth to laugh. “I’m sure you’ll be drowning in them by the end.”

“If only that weren’t true,” he notes, leaning against the back wall. “It’s hard being loved by all.”

You laugh again. While everyone goes on and on about his incomparable beauty, they’ve never mentioned his humorous side. But you wonder if maybe there is some truth to his statement. Maybe he doesn’t like being in the limelight so often. He’s always a main attraction at Capitol parties. Everyone tries to go home with him.

You admire Finnick’s makeup. The coal liner that brings out his green eyes. And the gold flecks on his pink cheeks, matching his golden hair. “You really do look pretty, Finnick,” you say to him.

He nods. “I have to. The scandal I would cause if I were underdressed. You know me, always the attention whore.” He says that with a hint of disgust that maybe he didn’t intend for your ears.

The elevator comes to a stop before you have a chance to ask what he meant by that. Finnick waves to you.

“I’ll save you a dance, darling.”

Everyone fiercely fights for Finnick’s attention through the batting of eyelashes, assaulting him with compliments, and insincere kisses to his golden cheeks. You watch him accept their adoration with gracious elegance that only he has. When they flirt with him, he flirts back flawlessly, without skipping a beat. From this outside view it seems to come so naturally to him. It looks like he thrives when he’s adored. Most people wouldn’t know how to handle the attention. They would suffocate from the weight of it all. But not Finnick Odair. You figure he’s seen so much in his life that nothing phases him. Nothing at all.

While he’s in the center of the room, you draw near to the sidelines. You nibble at the food and sip white wine. Finnick has been too busy the entire night entertaining guests that he has no time for enjoying a meal. You hope he ate before.

From the dessert bar, you watch him dancing with a loudly dressed man with green hair. The way their bodies move together is fluid. Finnick can dance. In fact, he’s very skilled with the way he controls his partner all in the rhythm of the music. Perhaps your envy causes you to avert your gaze, and you walk around to the opposite side of the bar so that you no longer have to watch. You know that your encounter in the elevator meant nothing to Finnick. His calling you pretty means nothing. He flirts with everyone he can.

You lose yourself to chocolate and your self-effacing thoughts. And you don’t notice when he sneaks up behind you. When Finnick’s hand touches your shoulder, you nearly jump.

“Hello, Finnick,” you mutter, not turning to look at his face.

“I noticed you were watching me.”

You shrug. “Everyone was. He seems… fun.”

“I don’t care about everyone.” He steps around you and wedges himself between you and the bar. “Are you…” he leans in, staring at you suspiciously, “jealous?”

“Of him?” you balk at his presumptuousness. “You—”

“He’s obsessed with me,” Finnick scoffs. “And I hate him. But…” his lips ghost your ear, “he’s close to our beloved president.” He steps away from you after he says that. “But that’s just between you and me.”

A little stunned that he would share a private detail of his affairs with you, you’re caught at a loss for words. “I have no one to tell.”

His fingers slip between yours. “Don’t you? You frequent these gatherings.”

Quickly, you remove your hand from his. “My mother insists that I make an appearance. She’s working on marital arrangements for me as we speak.”

Finnick nods. “I see. I suppose it was a little self-assured for me to believe you came for me.”

“Plenty do.”

Turning his face toward the crowd, he watches them dance and laugh, drink and eat. “It’s true. They know they might get something from me.”

“Your reputation precedes you.”

He looks back to you and centers his gaze upon your eyes. “You don’t act like them. You don’t gorge yourself on extravagant pleasures as they do. You’re not from the Capitol, are you?”

You shake your head. “No. I’m from a lesser district. I was adopted.”

“I pity you. You would have been better off back home.” Finnick reaches behind you and grabs a drink. He leans back to swallow. “I count down the days until I can go back to mine. But… it’s uncertain when I will be allowed to go back.”

You look at him quizzically. “Allowed?”

He smiles cheekily, acknowledging that you heard him correctly. He means for you to know that. “You should dance with me,” he says, abruptly changing the subject. He grabs your wrist with his big hand, his grip so strong that you could never overpower his might. His strength is god-like, a formidable weapon in a fight. But with you… he uses his strength gently.

There is no use denying him his wishes. Finnick pulls you along to the middle of the dance floor where you both quickly become the center of attention. The faces that never bothered to give you a second glance are staring at you unashamedly. But it’s all because of the man who holds you in his arms.

They’re jealous of you… for once.

Finnick leads you in the dance, both arms about your waist and holding you close to him. His cologne warms your senses. His scent is potent and tempting, and you only wish to get closer to him. But with where you stand right now, that’s quite impossible without taking off all your clothes.

You hold onto his neck as you sway to the beat of melody filling the room. He moves your body in time with his. You follow his lead completely. Being in the spotlight magnifies every flaw you can conceive of for everyone to see and tease you for. The blinding light of Finnick’s stardom no doubt makes it worse. No one looks pretty standing beside him.

You press your face against his suit jacket to hide yourself. You can’t take it anymore, looking all around the room and seeing all those judgmental expressions directed toward you. Holding onto Finnick keeps your grounded. He makes you feel safe. As you dance you begin to understand why so many obsess over his attention. Regardless of whether or not it is genuine, it feels that way. Every touch, every look feels real. And it makes you crave more. More of him. And it’s disgusting how quickly he’s made you harbor lustful feelings towards him.

Every time he looks down at you with his mesmerizing gaze, he gives you fuck me eyes. Every single time.

Like now.

You pull at the collar of his jacket and giggle. “Finnick… you can’t look at me like that.”

He lifts your chin. “Don’t tell me what I can’t do.” His tone is playfully cautious.

“You might make me fall—” you stop, shaking your head, backing away one step to put distance between your bodies.

“That’s the point, sweetheart. Tonight. I’m all yours.” He pulls you back in a spin, leans in close to your ear, lips grazing. “A favor you might… repay one day.”

“What kind of favor are you asking for?” You can’t believe you’re considering his offer. But there’s something about him. How can you resist the pull? You’re only human.

“I know who you are. I know you have a house in your district 7. I need a haven and transportation to the location. Until the storm blows over.” Finnick tells you these things with a big smile on his face.

“Storm? What storm?”

“I’m leaving the capitol. Very soon. You’re the last piece of the puzzle.”

You laugh at him as if he’s crazy. “Why would you want to leave the Capitol, Finnick? You can have everything you want.”

He turns serious for a moment. “I don’t want everything. I just want to go home. I have a connection in your district.”

“Okay,” you say. “I can make arrangements for you.”

Pulling you in closer, Finnick’s eyes drift over your lips. “So shall we head upstairs?”

You interlace your fingers in his and give him a nod. This is not how you expected the evening to turn out. Not at all. Your little interaction with Finnick in the elevator wasn’t meant to lead to this. But he pursued you… and his reasons are clear to you now.

When you’re alone with him in one of the upstairs rooms designated for illicit activities, you look around the four walls that surround you. You’re here while they’re stuck beneath you. You’re where the rest of them long to be.

Alone with Finnick Odair.

He pours you a drink and brings it to you. You sip at the sour liquid while he watches you.

“Look into my eyes, sweetheart.” He’s looking into yours, his irises almost as dark as emeralds in the dim lighting. Rolling back his shoulders, his suit jacket hits the floor. You see his skin through his sheer shirt. You’re sure that’s the point of it. He wants people to look at his body.

It worked on you. Easily.

Under the glitzy chandelier, crystal droplets catch the light and enhance his glow. Finnick slowly reveals himself to you, undressing to please you. The darkness in his eyes is alluring, and it draws you to him. The low lights, the incense burning, and the alcohol in your hand are meant to seduce you, as if having Finnick all to yourself is somehow not enough.

His expensive clothes are left behind when he approaches you. His long arm pulls you close, and he holds you against him, his body warm and comforting.

“My drink,” you say, “it spilled.”

Finnick takes the glass from your hand and drinks what’s left. His adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. He tosses the glass somewhere, and it lands in a crash.

“Someone will clean that up,” he notes, taking both your hands and leading you across the room. “Just focus on your desires.” He grins ear to ear. “Focus on me.”

With the way he looks tonight, that’s the easiest thing in the whole world. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but you throw yourself into his arms, and Finnick gracefully catches you. And for the first time, you share a kiss with him, two worlds colliding for a moment and an eternity all at once. You feel hazy in wonder. The maneuvering of his mouth pulls and demands the greatest pleasure from you. Never have you been kissed this way before. From the rumors you have heard, few rival Finnick Odair as a lover.

Together, you collapse on the sofa, your body on top of his, your lips never breaking contact. You kiss him all over his face, leaving lipstick prints on his cheeks and forehead. Finnick turns swiftly and pulls you under him, holding you down with his bodyweight and warmth. His skin against yours feels so right somehow, despite the situation. The excitement sparks across your skin, every place he touches with his hands, his fingers, and his mouth as he sucks on the pulse point of your neck.

He unzips the back of your outfit and traces down the ridges on your spine. At the same time, you pause to gaze into the other’s eyes. In that moment, you know you’re thinking the same thing, and soon you find yourself tangled in silken bedsheets.

You’re naked under him. This is the first time you’ve been intimate with someone you barely know. But you feel safe with him. He’s gentle, warming you up first before he truly makes a move. It’s skin on skin, two beating hearts, nails digging into flesh and leaving red marks. The echoes of his smooth voice reverberating in your ears, over and over. Over and over. When he’s inside you, you suddenly discover an insatiable side to your own desires. Passion takes over your body, and you can’t get enough of him and the little freak he’s unraveling in your soul.

The bed shakes and creaks, and in a fleeting glance, you look out from under him, you wondering if the pictures on the wall would crash down over you.

You grasp at his skin, the sheets, the headboard, in attempt to hold out, to let this last a little longer. To enjoy him because it’s unlikely that, once he makes his escape, you’ll see him again. Not like this, at least.

You cry when it hits. That rush, crashing into you like a wave. Finnick backs off soon after, giving you space. You’re not even sure if he felt the same.

You lie there for a long time, just staring up at the ceiling. And eventually he leaves you without another word or loving touch. You know that this was all a favor, but you can’t help but fall a little for him. Everyone does.

But you’re just one of his girls. A means to an end.

add yourself to my taglist!! @jaanefitoor @minniluvs @parkersvogue @marvelxhrry @motherphoebe @marcyss @hasalazzo @shaysevxx @miserablebl00d @junoxstevens @heroinhchicblog222 @hoslunix @ellenonesblog @theycantseeus @arxtixmonkeysxxx @lingerologist @mistyyrooms @scoliobean

[bruisedboys]

finnick odair always has his hands on your hips or your lower back (hand placement 🤭🤭)

erm yes!!! he is the king of hand placement I feel

finnick odair x gn!reader

you’ll be taking a walk together and finnick will have his hand on your lower back, innocent enough, just guiding you so you don’t trip or take a wrong turn. still, it totally makes your heart race, especially because his hand is so big and warm and heavy, and you can feel the heat of him through your clothes. or like!! he’s teaching you how to spear for fish (you’re awful at it, but he’s determined to teach you anyway) and you’re ankle deep in the water, finnick hovering behind you, tall and broad chested, his skin sparkling with salt water. and he’ll move up behind you so silently you almost miss it, his warm hand spreading over your lower back. “straight back, honey,” he’ll remind you, his velvety voice close enough to your ear to make you shiver, and you come very close to collapsing like a rag doll.

and when he wants to kiss you he’ll almost always pull you in by the hips, fingers wrapping around your hipbones as he tugs you closer to him. his palm pressing against a sliver of bare skin where your shirt rides up. when he’s got you where he wants you, he’ll kiss you dizzy, his thumb loving on the plush skin at your hip, his fingers pressed to your sides so tight it’s almost bruising.

if he wants you even closer, he’ll slide a hand to your lower back to draw you in easily. it flusters you every time — it doesn’t help that he’s got such lovely big, warm hands. you’ll sigh into his mouth as he does it, maybe screw your fingers into his shirt or his hair, and finnick will grin into the kiss before deepening it. he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

[whillywisp]

Part 2 of Finnick being the most amazing dad/doting husband because I'm sure this is just therapy for my darlings with daddy issues and, well, issues🌱

Warnings: a little long, a little angstier today, implied mention of what happened to finnick. But still as fluffy as yesterday.

Part 1 ☁︎

If Finnick was caring and terrified during the pregnancy, multiply that by ten thousand and that's him postpartum. This man was convinced the very air his family breathed was out to get them. He refused to sleep because he was scared something would happen if he dared to get some rest but after you very gently (you yelled) explained to him that he cannot stay up for three nights straight because no Finnick the baby doesn't need to be held twenty five-eight please for the love of god get some damn sleep, he finally got some rest.

Recovering from pregnancy is a whole other nightmare but he made it bearable. Finnick's favourite thing in the entire world, as previously stated, was taking care of you. So you know he was at your beck and call round the clock. He helped you shower, helped you move around, stayed up with you during night time feedings so you wouldn't feel alone. He cooked every meal and made sure you had everything needed within an arm's reach. Sometimes you were so overcome with love for him that you would tug him close and pepper his face with kisses because where on earth would you find someone as gentle and caring and loving in this miserable world as this angel right here? Nowhere thank you.

But it was seeing him with her that had you convinced you saved a country in your last life (well, in this life and while it was group effort—) to be able to witness something so pure and gentle.

Finnick held his little girl like he she was made of the finest glass and would disappear if he so much as breathed too loud near her. His wide eyes traced every movement, every twitch of a muscle, every breath your baby took. If her little hand curling around his made his pretty eyes gloss over, you absolutely saw it and you made sure to tease him about, for which you were met with embarassed smiles but no denials. He wasn't ashamed of loving his family and least of all his baby girl.

But every spring came stained grey from winter's shadow, still lingering around the corner as if seeking spring's warmth too. And Finnick's past, to him, felt a bit like that.

What happened to Finnick was not a secret he carried in his pocket folded up with a list of names who still bragged of their contribution to his survival or hidden behind forced smiles anymore. What happened to Finnick was public and while he is as not at all at fault for it, humiliation and self-hatred didn't have a mind of its own and regardless of the circumstances and the people that were at fault for everything, he still blamed himself, he still dreaded the day his baby, his entire world, found out what happened. And he told you about it of course.

"What if...what if she hates me?"

You looked up from the book you had been reading, glancing at him where he lay on his back. Your daughter, now nine months old, fast asleep on his chest and your voice a little incredulous as you whisper back. "I'm not sure if you noticed but she worships the ground you walk on."

The smile he gives you is forlorn and pressed into the top of your daughter's head. He blinked, looking away from you and in the blink of an eye you had dropped your book, uncaring where it landed and gently craddled his face in your hands, wiping away tears that stained his emrald green eyes.

"Angel—"

"I don't want her to find out," he sniffed, tightening his arms around your daughter, taking a shuddering breath before continuing. "I do-don't want her to find out. She'll hate me. She'll think I'm so weak. I was so weak."

You sighed, gently pressing a kiss to his forehead before wiping away tears that escaped his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. Rage and grief burned in your heart with vengeance and you wished, not for the first time, the need to rip those wealthy capitolites to shreds with your bare hands, to make these vile people disappear, praying they'd take the pain they inflicted on him away with them.

But instead you used the same hands and pulled him close, letting him cry into your chest as you wrapped your arms around him and your daughter, whispering quietly but firmly to him. "Finnick Odair, those years of you life were bleak. Those years of your life were harsh. And you were a lot of things during them: broken, hurt, abused. But you weren't weak. You survived, you made sure to survive because you knew you needed to survive to be free. That was your way of winning. And if we raise this baby right, she'll love you regardless, hell even more, when she finds out. I love you and I agree with you on just about everything. But this, this I refuse to because the man i married, the boy I fell for, is a survivor."

He peered at you through wet lashes, sniffling softly as he pressed a kiss to your chest and then the top of your daughter's head: his quiet way of saying 'I love you. Thank you for being my light.' You let out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding, tightening your arms around your family.

You weren't lying when you said your daughter worshipped the ground he walked on. He was her hero. She followed him around the house since the minute she started crawling, screamed for him every morning and only calmed down when he picked her up and out of crib and in the most Finnick fashion, loved you in her gentle ways. She got that from me, he would say smugly as you had to eat another fistful of mushed baby food because of course your daughter picked that her way to show her love for you after having seen Finnick feed you fruit earlier. You would glare at him over her little sprout hair, identical to the one his hair was tied into on her highness' orders, your heart threatening to explode in your chest from the sheer amount of love it was filled with.

Your daughter was not only growing up to be the most precious child in the world, but she was also terrifyingly bright and understanding, even at such an young age. On days she noticed Finnick's need to be quiet or when he was too overwhelmed by everything, you noticed her making a conscious effort to stay quiet and keep her noises to a minimum. If Finnick needed time alone, she wouldn't bother him but spent her time with you, telling you about how daddy needs his quiet time and you had to hold onto the cushion behind you on the couch to hold back from crying, completely baffled at and extremely grateful that you both were raising an angel like her. But you weren't all that surprised when you thought about it a little more deeply. She was, after all, her daddy's little girl.

The day she starts kindergarten feels like the most emotional episode of the worst soap opera possible because you woke up to them...crying. And saying their goodbyes as he tearfully packed her lunch and did her hair, as if she was off to war. And it took quite a while to coax them both out of the house because I love you both but we cannot be late on the first day you guys please. But on the walk to kindergarten it was peaceful and full of laughter, because they could both pretend this was just their morning walk.

But of course, the tears were back when the gates closed with the promise of keeping them separated for three hours.

"What if she gets hungry and can't open the lunch box?"

You frowned looking up at him, shaking your head. You both were standing outside the gates to the school along with other worried parents, some taking a break from said worrying to side eye you both, something you had learned to tune out years ago.

"Finnick, she showed us she can open the lunch box just fine before we left home."

"But what if she can't here?" He insisted, looking down at you like you were the insane one for not considering that scenario. You sighed, grabbing his hand and tugging him away from the gates, trying to ease his worries.

"I promise you if she needs help with that, she will ask her teacher," you smiled at him, pecking his lips gently to stop him when he opens his mouth to voice another bizarre worry. "She'll be fine. She's our kid, she'll be perfectly fine."

He cracked a small smile, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you both start walking back, giving in with a small chuckle. "Yeah, okay. Maybe we should get a puppy to keep us busy now since she wants to do all grown up things go to scho..."

You look up at him as he suddenly trails off, confused as you catch him staring at something thoughtfully in the distance and follow his gaze to freeze against him slightly. In the distance, still as grey and imposing as ever, was the abandoned building which once held District 4's career academy. Strange feelings that always came with seeing it, both good and bad and nostalgic, make you tighten your grip on his hand and his around your shoulders.

Less than a decade ago, only a few metres and a small canal away from the kindergarten that your daughter now attended, children like her were being trained to kill, you and Finnick being a part of them. The thought of that still makes your blood run cold but the relief that rushed in right after, knowing your baby would never have to do that, is enough to let go of another hour of the countless you had spent in there, training to survive a system bigger than the arena could ever be.

You took a deep breath, forcing to maintain your light tone as you forced both of you to continue moving. "Heard they're building another school there, to keep the spirits of learning still alive and all that."

He smiled, kissing the top of your head fondly. "And I assume you want to help out in that?" The cheeky smile you had given him was answer enough but for him, it was like a sigh of relief, of brighter days no longer stained with gloom of his past.

People and places had changed to accomodate this new change, this everlasting spring, and maybe he was looking forward to letting his soul do the same too.

A/N: i agree this might've gone slightly offtopic in certain places but bare with me. I can't decide if want this to be the end or write more. But I hope you enjoyed this regardless of these things. All my love 🌱

[moethewriter]

Hello hello I hope you recover well from your stomach flu take your time writing this one and if you don't write it that's fine too. But can I get a jealous finnick x reader. Wishing you all the best for nice and speedy recovery

-Anon 🦋

Of course you can anon! Glad to see you requesting again <3 TITLE: Jealousy, Jealousy WORD COUNT: 1.1k PAIRING: Finnick Odair x Reader WARNING: Mentions of what Snow does to certain victors and all that terrible stuff. general mentions of hunger games violence TAGS: GN!Reader from District Four A/N: I am fully recovered and back to work guys! So feeling much better, and glad to be getting back to writing! Short and sweet this one, but it was fun writing it. Thanks again for the request, and as always I take constructive critisicm! Not beta read as per usual!

-

The stars were hardly visible in The Capitol, and that was one of your least favourite things. In 4 you had always been able to look up at the stars and feel some sense of comfort from them. But here, with the lights and the business of it all … they were but a mere speck in the sky, never shining as bright as you wanted.

You were alone, in the gardens of Snow’s mansion after he had called you to The Captiol. Snow was nothing if not a master of selling his precious little things. You, Finnick … and anyone who he deemed beautiful enough to be worthy of someone’s time. You weren’t a fool, though many believed you to be, you were well aware of the true intentions behind this party and why you were there.  At least the champagne was good, sweet and tart and all of the right things, something that was hard to come by in Four. 

“Rough day?”

“Gloss.” You smiled, turning to one of your fellow Victors, sipping the champagne in your hand.

You didn’t know much of Gloss or his sister Cashmere, you knew enough and that was that. You weren’t sitting around braiding hair and sharing gossip with your fellow Victors, you’d rather forget your time in the games than play pretend with people. You had admired Gloss and Cashmere once upon a time, knowing they were going through the same things you were, and how strong they seemed. But you preferred your little bubble with Finnick, Mags and Annie, that’s just what you preferred, much to many people's displeasure. 

“Standing out here all alone, no company to keep you warm?” He questioned, sipping his own champagne, a charming smile plastered across his face.

“Much rather be alone than be with anyone in there.” You told him, placing the glass on the stone of the fountain in front of you.

Being from Four, the water had always calmed you. 

You turned to the man, and smiled towards him. Gloss was what many considered handsome, and strong. Someone who would fight for you and keep your bed warm. You wouldn’t lie, he was gorgeous, so was his sister but your heart belonged to another. Your heart belonged to Finnick Odair. He had been the one to send you into the Hunger Games and he had been the first to greet you when you had been declared the winner

You remembered that day well. The metallic smell stuck in your nose as you were led back to The Capitol. You had been caked in dirt, blood and anything else you had picked up over the three weeks you had been in the games. But Finnick had kissed you, he had held you and loved you even when you couldn’t love yourself. You never felt that you could truly repay him for that, but he always insisted he just needed you. 

“Even me?” Gloss chuckled, walking to stand by you.

“Even you.” You confirmed, gently bumping his shoulder.

“Hey.”

You turned around and your smile brightened.

There stood Finnick, dressed to the nines, escaping from a flock of women that he clearly didn’t want to be with. Finnick had always been considered beautiful, desirable and someone you wanted in The Capito. He hadn’t known anything else in years, and that was heart wrenching to think about. 

“What’s going on here?” His smile was tight as he placed an arm around your waist, a firm grip to your hip.

“Having a conversation, Finnick.” Gloss cleared his throat, taking a sip of the champagne. “It’s something that two people do to get to know one another.” Gloss was snippy in his remarks, which made you frown. 

“Well, the conversation is over.” Finnick deemed, shooting Gloss a nasty look. “Besides, Cashmere was looking for you earlier … She seemed paler than normal. Should probably go and check on her Gloss, wouldn’t want her to be sick in front of the President.” Finnick turned his nose up at the thought.

“It was nice chatting with you, Y/N, we should do it again sometime.” Gloss said, glaring towards Finnick. “Unlike this one … I have some tact and can probably hold a better conversation.” He huffed, storming back towards the party.

Once he was out of sight you whirled on Finnick. “What was that?” You demanded, removing yourself from his arms, annoyed. 

“Nothing.” Finnick said, casually sipping on his champagne. He was clearly relieved that Gloss was gone.

“Come on, Odair.” You snorted. “I’ve known you for almost twelve years, you can’t act dense in front of me.” You tapped your foot, lightly.

“I didn’t like that he was flirting with you.” Finnick admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t like that guy, Y/N. I have never liked him and he clearly wants you and so I had to intervene!” He said.

“Finnick.” You laughed, lightly. “Gloss may have been flirting with me, but he is not the one in my bed at the end of the night. You have nothing to worry about … don’t be so jealous over guys like him. No one can hold a candle to you.” You reached out and gently took his hands.

“He just makes me so angry!” Finnick glared towards the door, squeezing your hand. “Thinking he can walk out here and make small talk and win you over, it’s disgusting and if there weren't  prying eyes all around us I’d have him on the ground to remind him that you are taken.” He said, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

“Well.” You said, tossing the fine china in your hands off into the bushes, not caring if anyone saw. “You don’t have anything to worry about, okay? Remember that you are the one I choose … always and forever.” You moved to wrap your arms around his neck

He leaned in and slotted his mouth against yours, the warmth of his lips warming up your far more cold and chapped ones. Kissing Finnick was like tasting fresh honey, the liquid gold substance filling your senses, and the smoothness bringing you peace and sweetness. 

“Promise?” He whispered into your lips.

“I promise.” You whispered back. “Though I never took you for the jealous type.” You giggled.

“Shut up.” He laughed, bumping his nose against yours.

“Wait until I tell Mags and Annie.” You snorted, pulling away from him.

“Wait! Y/N! No!” 

“Try and catch me, Odair!” You chuckled hurrying off into the fray of the party.

You were thankful for him, in so many ways but that didn’t mean you weren’t above teasing him, and if he never lived it down …

Well that wasn’t on you.

[mrsnancywheeler]

silver springs

finnick odair x gn!reader

2k words

masterlist

summary: finnick's cycle of self destruction stops for no one, even if it tears the two of you apart, but you refuse to fade into the past.

warnings: angst, lots of it, self destructive behavior, mentions of trafficking, allusions to consensual smut, reader values their virginity, arguments, break ups, trauma, unhealthy relationship dynamics, unhappy ending, but could be interpreted as hopeful if you want it to be, unedited, no use of y/n

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Finnick knows he should just fall asleep, let himself rest and turn his brain off from overthinking, but he can't. You deserve better, so much better than the broken boy from District 4 who will forever be playing his role in the puppet show. Where you've fought the demons off with compassion for each person you've come across, it shames him how easily he can fall into the facade of the egotistical Capitol darling. Eventually his outlook will consume the joy you've harvested to forcefully in the depths of your heart and he knows not a minute will pass that he can look at himself in the mirror knowing he did that to you. So he has to end it, to let you be free for a much happier life, at least that's what he tells himself as he prepares for you to wake.

You're so beautiful in the moonlight that glows on your sleeping face and he's even more enthralled when the sun begins to rise and it's like you're an angel in the colors. He's not sure when he let a few tears shed thinking about how when you wake up it'll be the last time he sees you like this, but it's for the best. When you do hazily wake up, blankets falling off your bare body as you sit up, all your sleepy smiles make his heart clench even more, but his brain more certain.

“Good morning." You mumble out, leaning in for a kiss which he scoots away from and your incoherent brain snaps to attention. No matter how long it's been since you've been in the arena, you doubt that instinct will ever go away, the need to be constantly on edge if something seems slightly off, and he is. Finnick is usually the type to be just returning from a swim with some fish he caught in the morning or arms wrapped around you. “What's wrong?" You can feel a defense mechanism settling in with the numbness of your voice, had you really finally had the courage to let someone have your body only for them to pull away from your love the very next morning? What a cruel master the universe seemed to be no matter what cards you played.

Finnick's eyes were glossy and he rubbed his face as he sniffled, forcing the words out of his reluctant throat, “I don't think we should see each other anymore." Before the words have even finished tumbling out of his mouth you've pulled the blanket back up to cover your exposed chest. How could you be so cautious of something only for it to come from the person you least expected, apparently you weren't cautious enough.

“Oh." It's humiliating, if you could just disappear into the air you would give anything to do so. You can't cry, it would only further that humiliation, so you robotically move to the side of the bed to grab the panties that had been so lazily thrown off by him the night before. “Congrats on the score, Finnick, hopefully I'm worth a good amount of points." Your voice can't be allowed to crack or shake, but it's fighting against your willpower.

“It's not like that." Finnick quickly says, observing you, and he'll never say it, but he's scared. He doesn't want you to hate him, to break your heart, he just wants you to be free of his chains.

You scoff and have to force yourself to stand without the protection of the blanket so you can find the rest of your strewn about clothes. “I’m sure that's what you tell all of them.” All of us, he's always been a rumored playboy, but with what the Capitol did to him that was what you'd placed it on. Not that he played people, but that he was unfairly used, now you reasoned, two things could be true at once. Him having past partners had never bothered you when he began talking to you, but now you wondered how he left them. You glance back for less then a second when you see he's buried his head in hands, not answering.

He knows this isn't true, that he's doing this because he cares too much to let his darkness eat you alive. Maybe he'll even have to say that to you, so he won't have to live with the additional weight of your resentment.

“I just-" Your throat breaks on a sob you're holding back, “I know it's not important to everyone, but it was important to me, Finnick. I gave you something that I wasn't ready to give anyone else because I thought…” You sighed, "It doesn't matter what I thought, but it's so fucked that you took that away when you knew.” A stray tear has forced its way through which you're wiping away as soon as you can. Your pants are in a pile at the end of the bed which you quickly grab.

“I'm sorry." His voice isn't hiding the tears as he looks up from his hands, he's genuine and you can tell as much from his voice, but it doesn't stop the internal berating of being so stupid to finally share that intimate part of yourself when he would leave you hours later. “I didn't plan it like that, honey, I didn't."

“Please, don't call me that." He nods his head in retreat after your request that was meant to be more forceful, preferably he'd never speak to you again.

“You deserve better, so much better." You agree, the bare minimum would be a day before he broke the news not hours after you'd slept with him. “Better than me, I need you to have better.” He feels like a child, knees pulled up to his chest as he gives you up so you'll be far away from his destruction, but you feel more like a toy he's gotten bored of playing with. Like a hurricane it hits you that he means being with you, a sentiment he’s murmured many times in your relationship even if you insisted otherwise at each utterance. Yet you can no longer find it in you to assure him otherwise, no matter how much you disagree.

“Oh my god, this is the ‘woe is me, I'm Finnick Odair, so unlovable’ act again!” You could tear your hair out, "I could love you, Finnick! That's who could and I'm so sick of this push and pull thing you play at. But we are all dealing with things inside and you refuse to be, not even helped, but at least cared for!”

He's gotten up from the bed, shaking his head with as much intent as he can muster, "If you loved me it would kill you.”

"Says who?” You no longer care about whether or not you're keeping composure or yelling, you've spent every moment you can trying to assure him and within the hours you slept he decided to tear it all apart. "Oh right, just you! You and your endless piles of self doubt, I'm not asking for that to go away, but you could at least be open to hearing others out."

“It's for you, honey, I couldn't live with myself if I put you through that."

Any movements you were making stop as you stare at him, he's so honest, so eager, and you radiate an anger he despises himself for making, but wants to catch the last few sparks of before he leaves forever. “You are so selfish. Have you ever even considered the fact that I would suffer more without you, then with you, or were you too busy trying to punish yourself for not spending every moment of your life in a pile of guilt?”

He doesn't answer and you know it's a no. Part of you says it's wrong to tell a man who's always eating himself up from the inside that he's selfish, but you feel like you're on autopilot.

"I'm a person, Finnick! Everyone you've ever dated is. You do not get to play house for a year to live in a fantasy and then push us away whenever your thoughts are too much, that's why it doesn't work, you won't let it. And everyone who puts in the effort to love you, to care about you, has it all swept away when you're ready to wallow again. That way when you briefly decide it's over you can do it all over again.” You're pulling on the pants before you can look around for the shirt in some hidden spot.

Finnick feels like he's running cold, part of him knows you're right that his cycle is neverending, but you can understand, he tells himself. Even if you're a fellow victor, no one can help him, he's resigned himself to it and you're too light of a bubble to let you pop. So he has to live in denial, that he has to protect you from himself even if that is really what's attacking you now, “I care and I can't do this to you. You don't understand, I'm like a whirlpool waiting to suck everything in with me."

“You have." You find the shirt and button it up with fumbling fingers, blood pulsating in anger, sadness, and the want to beg him to change his mind and let you sit with forever. But you know you can't subject yourself to his cyclone of self-destruction any longer, not when you have your own struggles to deal with. The things you couldn't tell him about because of the constant pressure to be the light in his bleak outlook of the world, even when you were so tempted whenever it seemed like he was in his true state. The Finnick that was sweet and giving, or maybe you were an idealist wishing for a man that he could truly never be. “I won't fade into obscurity over you.” Your voice has become considerably softer and you gaze at his shaking body.

"What?” He asks, he knows that you won't understand why he has to do what he's convinced himself he must, but that doesn't prevent him from wanting to take it all back, embrace you, and promise to do better even if he knows he won't.

"I'm a victor too, Finnick. Every party, I'll be there, when you have to watch required programs on the television, I'll be there. I won't take a step back just because I'm hurt, we're all wounded dogs, Finnick, some of us just handle it better and I won't quiet myself just because it might remind you of another person you've pushed behind.”

“I'm not asking you too."

“No, but it's what you're used to. I'm not just someone else from home, you will always hear my voice, see my face, and I need you to know that. I want you to get better, Finnick, because I care about you more than you can even fathom, but I will be a hitch from what you're used to. You deserve to know that, I'm sorry if that makes it more difficult for you or maybe it's what you need. A wake-up call that whatever you're doing is what's actually hurting people not whatever fucked up fantasy it is you're listening to in your head.”

Finnick wanted you to know how much you cared, but said nothing as he pushed down more tears when you left, never to be in his room again. The mornings spent in your comfort are officially gone. You'd been right of course, he couldn't wallow and move on because you were everywhere. Your laugh in his ears at every party, your saccharine voice on the screen, your presence around every turn. Maybe you'd even been right when you insinuated this was what he was missing, he couldn't forget about you long enough to fall into his routine, especially not when the echoes that once told him he had to let you go sang a different tune. How destructive he was for letting the one person who could even attempt to anchor his tortured soul go.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Thank you for reading, as always feedback, comments, likes, reblogs, is all super appreciated! I was going to write another chapter of the lakes but I had this idea in my brain presenting so here it is. 💋

[sleepy-gee]

when finnick first saw you he thought he was having a heart attack from how fast his heart was beating

that's so cute oh my goddd

que enchanted by taylor swift because this man is so adorably down bad for you!! like he's walking through the streets of district 4, on his way to buy something or whatever when he sees you and he's just so smitten :(( you're selling something cutesy like hand made bracelets or necklaces and he comes up and drops way too much money just cuz he wants to talk to you!! and he gives you that grin, making eye contact whenever possible 🤭🤭 and now anytime he goes to the shopping district he'll make sure to stop by and say hi