I DON'T KNOW WHY I BITE ?

I DON'T KNOW WHY I BITE ?

pairing; finnick odair x f!reader

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

contains; ANGST, comfort, descriptions of forced prostitution, descriptions of gore, murder, typical hunger games mortality etc etc. not proofread… ever

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the room once filled with a bond you could not quite replace, is now empty, gray. it lacks the golden boy who brings light to every aspect of your life- and it has been for two months now.

you know where he is, what he’s doing, and who he’s with. you know the light of his soul will be snuffed away by the calloused deceiving hands of the capitol- their everlasting appetite to claim their control over citizens and victors alike.

you almost dread the sound of your front door unlocking. your mind manifesting his misery would be long gone- begging to a higher power that he will be okay- that the pillars of his body are not crumbling in on itself.

nevertheless, as you near the front door- you see it in his eyes. he almost looks like the same 14 year old that got thrown into a death match and came out with two legs and two arms- but this time his legs can’t carry him any longer, his arms are practically hanging off his tired body.

the door is still open behind him, the chilled air seeping its way into your once warm home. his shoulders are slumped, there is no light in his eyes- only that small tinge he adorns when he is with you.

you want to pull him into your arms, to kiss the disgust off of his features, to show him he is unworthy of this muck treatment, that he is the only light that cannot be choked out, the anchor that is not misplaced, he is right where he needs to be now.

there’s a silent understanding, you can see the falter in his steps as he tries to walk towards you- so close to disintegration you can almost see his seams falling apart one by one.

you meet him halfway- pulling him into you- now you must be his pillar. you must cover his ears, quiet his thoughts.

his tears coat your shirt, your fingers run through his scalp. he wants to crawl out of his skin. he can still feel a touch that isn’t yours- it sets his nerves alight.

why won’t you leave me. his mind screams- but his voice can’t carry these words. leave me here, let me rot.

you can feel him self destruct, his knees fail and now you are kneeling infront of his vulnerable frame. you want him to look at you, to see what you see, but who are you to ask for more?

but all he sees is grief, blood from kids his age- even younger, he feels hands all along his chest- his back, he smells roses- luxury- a scent that isn’t home, he tastes metallic blood from his lips- gnawing from anxiety, he hears the praises- he hears that he’s special, that he’s so humble, what a handsome young man he is.

“i wish i could be good.”

you can’t see his face, you are glad in a way- you don’t think you’d be able to take it. “you are good finnick,” your own tears fall. “if anything you are good.”

you want to yell these words, scream them at him. so inconsiderate of you- but how dare he not see this is not his fault? a puppet has no control over his own arms.

finnicks mind screams more at the capital than himself now. your tactics have worked. you have taken every last bit of my innocence away. you control me. he begs to be left alone, he begs to be so pure and unsuspecting again.

you both know his fate, you know where he’ll be in a few years. you know that your love alone cannot keep him here- however strong. every inhale feels like poison- but he listens to you murmur as you rub his back, telling him to breath.

you see his eyes now, he tries to drink in your gaze- he wants it to be the last thing he sees, except less concerned, less worn, less worried. despite his thoughts only ever consumed by you, he looked pained- he looks as though he is elsewhere in his mind.

“nothings gonna hurt you now” sanity is a sheltered lie but you would rather surrender your wits than your boy. your fingers dance up and down his back now- erasing the sinful marks left laying in his mind.

-

so short so technically a blurb but wtv….

BABYDOLL !

pairing; finnick odair x f!reader

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

contains; SMUT!! pure filth, fingering, p in v, lots of tension leading up, teasing, sub!reader, a few tears shed, pet names, lmk if i missed anything!

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

you knew that look, it would never fail to take the breathe from your lungs.

the look that finnick gives you when you’re rambling on and on about your day and all he can look at is your plump lips, the bow that’s in your hair, the small silver pendant that lies facetiously above your chest- so provocative, so tantalizing.

you turn your focus back to sliding the last of the clean plates into their spots in the cabinet- yet you stay leaned into the counter, still speaking.

“just been awful cold out on the water, s’been bad out.”

finnicks shows this look once more as a warning, almost. his eyes are low, dark- if looks could kill you’d been dead a while ago- though you almost are now.

he looks at you like he wants to devour you, like all he needs to survive is to worship you. “so bad.” he voice is even- much unlike your heart that has seemed to stop beating.

“hm?” his double meanings causing you to feel lightheaded.

he gets up from his spot, caging you into the counter with his arms, looking down on you now. “the weather. what’s my baby thinking about?” he zeros his eyes in on yours.

“nothin’ fin.” he hasn’t even touched you and you’re acting dumb already, your cheeks are pink, knees weak.

he turns his head- his height still opposes yours in this position- something about it makes you ache inside. “don’t lie, i thought you were my good girl?”

by this point you know he doesn’t care for your answer, he just wants to see how long you can go pretending you’re not so desperately needing him inside of you- two can play that game.

“i am your good girl, finnick.” you say, looking up to him with big eyes.

he rolls his tounge over his lips, jaw slack as he huffs to himself , moving into those same plump lips he’s been looking at for the past hour.

his lips move against yours slowly until his tongue cards though your own lips and into your mouth. even in his own desperations he is not messy, or rough, but simply passionate.

he leaves a new trail of his lips down your neck, agonizingly slow. he knows each second of this matters to you, and somehow each time he makes it feel new all over again.

his hands run down your sides, stopping on the back of your thighs to hoist you onto the countertop. he allows you to relish in this new position, you eye level with him. until again his hands find the backs of your thighs, carrying you into his room- laying your bottom down at the end of the bed.

his mouth finds your neck again, it’s hot, not rushed but needy. he wanted to ruin you, to watch you fall apart as his mouth got to work on you but when you whined out an oh-so pitiful, “i need you fin.” he knew what it was you wanted so badly.

but who is he to let you get what you want just like that? he needed some more convincing. “thought you were my good girl?” finnick tuts, he’s mean, he’s cruel.

“i am! i am!” you plead, he’s got you so worked up- rutting against him and he has your arms pinned down.

“act like it, babydoll.” and it takes all of your restraint to act like it, you take what he gives you when he feels like it.

only when his index finger hooks under the strap of your top do you get your own satisfaction, his hands run along your chest, kissing, sucking. until they find the waistband of your skirt, he studies your skirt- wonders if he should leave it on, tease you for it, but ultimately takes it off aswell.

never will he fail to be enamored with your body, he has to refrain from pulling his own face in between your legs.

your free hand reaches the collar of his loose shirt, his mouth is back in yours as he lets your fingers fumble with the buttons of his shirt before it’s completely undone, tossed elsewhere in the bedroom.

his hand kneads the fat of your hips, earning a soft noise of approval simply by his touch.

he never wants to hear anything else in his life, he thinks. finnick chases these sounds of pleasure from you, his fingers immediately finding your warmth, sinking his own two fingers into it.

you gasp, unprepared for such an intrusion- but he just couldn’t help himself.

his fingers continue working at a steady pace- until they curl, the world spins on its axis. “right there finnick!” your mouth is hanging open, and as much as he’d like to listen in to you whisper his name breathlessly- like a prayer- he can’t help but bring his pink lips to yours again.

you writhed in this pleasure, this satisfaction only he could bring you, he knew this, he loved this. until it all stopped, finnick withdrew his fingers, much to your dismay. he licks them clean.

you whimper, tears follow with the loss of friction and he can’t help but strain against his pants at the sight.

this beautiful woman below him? so desperate for his cock? it almost seems like it can’t be real.

“just be patient, angel.” he undoes his own pants, it doesn’t take long- even he can’t hide the fact of how badly he needs you.

you both are rid of every bit of clothing you’d once adorned, he nudges at your folds. “is this okay?” his eyes filled only with honesty, pure honesty.

“yes! please.”

finnick smiles, a smile short lived once he buries himself deep into you- his ears also pleasured as you cry out, clenching around him.

finnicks hand plays with the ends of your hair as he huffs out air. “gotta ease up baby, won’t last if your s’tight.” he purrs.

you nod, you can’t even speak and somehow that drives him more insane.

he rocks into you, leaving you fully before entering you without missing a beat. each thrust your back arches up more into him, chest more visible.

his fingers hyperfixtiate on your silver pendant, the pads of his hands caressing the heart locked as he stills inside of you.

“so pretty.”

“please.” you beg him, but he only moves his hands to your face, running his thumb over your lip, trying to etch your fucked-out features into the back of his mind.

you clench around him now, making him snap in and out of you faster. “this what you want? me to use you?” he cooes, words so sharp but the voice of an angel.

you’re close and you know he is too by the way his hips stutter each time he re-enters you.

vulgar words flow out of each of your mouths like a string as you both reach your high, your face hidden in his shoulder, his lips on your forehead.

-

i’ve never ever written smut before so lemme cook ill get better i promise, as always REQS OPEN USE EM!!!!

honeymoon w finnick HNNNNNNGGGGJJJHH😫😫😫

OOOOOOH BABYYY YES.

-

your ‘wedding’ is small, almost unofficial. he proposed to you on one of your typical mornings. waking up- wrapped up in your sheets. he insisted you go to the shore with him during sunrise. much to your groggy dismay you go and you are more than pleased.

for rings he 100% thought about this, maybe something small, simple from a little store in town- something he knows you’d love to have on your finger 24/7.

your honeymoon- on the other hand…. he will persistently call you his wife, without a doubt. “how is mrs odair this morning?” when he’s cooking breakfast. or he’s ontop of you, your hands in his hair, his lips on your neck. “am i making my wife feel good?” this no doubt fuels his possession over you.

every morning you wake up, he’s kissing you- and then your eating, going to the beach, reading in silence, the days go by so fast with him. and he is, by no means, leaving your side. he says you make him feel like he’s breathing again. his hand always around your waist, or your fingers are interlocked and he brings your ring finger to his lips.

and in what world is he going to let you do anything? he’s carrying you to bed, he’s carrying you to the shower, making you breakfast, washing your hair, picking out your clothes.

and don’t let me get too rowdy about the nights of your honeymoon… insane.

u guys are too sweet to me n my little random blurbs mwah mwah MWAH. in honor, u can choose what u want from me next 😊

me when i see another part of the lakes is posted. @mrsnancywheeler

Taking anti-depressant pills?? Seeing a therapist??? Journaling??? No need babe, my fav writer just dropped another x reader fic.

hey, i love you so much. i love your fics, they’re literally like a fine wine and im trying so hard not to read all your fics too fast 😭😭😭

i genuinely adore u this makes my heart so full MWAH. just for you i’ll be writing more today just so you don’t run out don’t worry 😇🙏❤️