Finnick - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

A HIDDEN PRAYER !

pairings; finnick odair x f!reader

summary; finnick realizes he loves you. and after all, there's only one thing in this world keeping him sane.

contains; FLUFF, no established relationship, lil smooches, pre quarter quell, lil bit of angst (just finnick beating himself up over not realizing sooner) physical touch and words of affirmation.

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your bodies were soaking wet, having splashed around in the water previously.

finnick had appreciated you up until now he liked having someone who understood him, someone who would do so much as run out to the sea at midnight because he couldn’t sleep. a nice companion.

ever since he’d won his games he only kept a few people close, a few people to remind him he wasn’t losing his mind. you were one of those people- you always had been.

now, the waves creep up to your ankles as the two of you rest on the shoreline. you could hear the rise and fall of his chest- you didn’t mind. you were calm in his presence, in moments like these you didn’t need words to understand how he was feeling, vice versa.

you get a shiver up your back, your shoulders shake. finnick internally scolds himself, stupid me. why would i let her get in the water with no extra layers? there’s nothing he can do now except pull you into his chest- this time, you don’t think you can sit in silence.

your cheeks are hot. your shoulder feels numb in contact with his chest. finnick doesn’t realize the intimacy of his act until he felt you stiffen against him. he doesn’t regret it- but he has not a clue what to say now.

amidst all of his panic, he catches your eye- you look up at him- and he doesn’t know what for. all he can focus on is you. have your eyes always been that pretty? is this his first time getting lost in them? your skin is glowing in this moonlight and your hair, this must be a curse.

who’s to say he can’t have you? that you can’t be his? when he would give so much for you? his eyes are heavy on yours you feel as though it’s too physically taxing to pull your eyes away from his, how could you when they were so full of something you never saw before?

you turn to face him now, the words are lost in your throat. you want to speak- he sees that, his hand is running along your face as if it’s something so fragile- so precious.

he can recognize the look in your eyes, only because it mirrors his own. so confused, so dazed, so scared of this new feeling.

finnick hadn’t known love his whole life, he was stripped of love so many times before, but then again- he was familiar with the idea of it.

and instead of this innocent love being taken away, it felt like it was poisoning his mind this time.

“finnick,” your mouth opened once more to say something, anything. there was so much running around your head yet, your mouth was dry.

his eyes were still so full, so adoring, “i know.” no words were spoken, nobody had spewn love from the depths of their brain- but yet a mutual understanding was formed.

his lips were on yours in seconds, not rushed, not desperate, not messy. simple soft, trying to soak it all in, to remember this moment. the moment of your clothes being completely soaked through, his sleep shirt being lost in the sand, his hair tousled, yours dripping wet, sand stuck to your knees and elbows, so flawed, but all intact.

-

EYE CANDY !

pairing; finnick odair x f!victor!reader

summary; finnick odair is charming, finnick odair is strong, finnick odair is so easy to see through.

contains; slight mention of underage drinking, uhhhh a glimpse into forced prostitution if u squint, fluff.

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you’d survived 21 days in the wilderness, fighting for your life, only to return to the capital and refuse to where, what you called; “extravagant pony get-ups.” it was either you’d dress yourself or you simply wouldn’t attempt your own crowning.

your responses in your interviews were bold, carefully played. unique and engaging enough to be sought after but tamed enough to still appease the capitol citizens.

finnick had heard what people had said about you, some had said you were too disorderly and rowdy- others thought you were careless and young enough to bring a new sense of purpose.

finnick however, could care less about what others thought, the minute he’d seen your interviews- he needed to meet you, to see this whole charade for himself.

it was at a capitol party, your mentor in your games had left your side and finnick was ready to sink his teeth in. you bumped into his shoulder- turning around abruptly.

his smile, his perfect hair- you knew he thought he could make you faint by one look, you however, saw this as a challenge. taking it a upon yourself to stick your hand out in introduction; “y/n l/n, and you are?”

finnick laughed, bringing your hand up to his lips, “finnick odair. i’ve seen your recklessness in the capitol- and i adore it.”

now he was really trying to woo you, you let out a genuine laugh at his antics. “that’s cute, finnegan. sadly, i have a party to get back to!” you continued to laugh out as your body slid past his, his jaw was slack, his head was hanging low.

this was clearly not what he had intended to happen.

you two would run into eachother plenty of times sense then, seeing as you were both eye-candy to the capitol. each time your assaults on his ego would lessen until you were able to have decent conversations.

you were unlike anyone or anything he’d ever seen before, you looked so sweet yet your stare was deadly, your voice was soft but your words laced with venom.

he’d learned very quickly that your mind was only stuck on surviving, on getting out. but he was there for you.

he’d been there for you when you’d been too wasted on whatever you’d drunk at the capitol for your own good. he’d been there for you when your strong facade had broken, been there for you on the highs and lows.

he admired your fashion, it was so different from what he’d seen those in the capitol wear, but also had that unique pop of color or grande effects.

he’d seen every district before, spent many night with women and men of the capitol yet he’d never seen someone who was born into such a grey atmosphere embrace color so openly at the same time.

he’d definelty watch you do your makeup in the morning, making little comments “how did you do that?” and “how are you going so close to your eyeball?”

-

KISS IT OFF ME !

pairing; finnick odair x f!dist4!reader

summary; finnick can’t take his eyes off of you in any crowd- but he can take care of you, what’s new?

contains; FLUFF, established relationship, finnick is still pining for reader, alcohol consumption- but positively i guess, reader is anxious in the beginning, objectification by the capitol as per usual.

a/n: i hope im not misunderstood but when i put specific photos or outfits/hairs in the headers of my works that is not directly what i am picturing the reader as! its more-so the hairstyle, or the outfit- or simply the aesthetic of the picture. not the race, hair nor body type. ur all cutie pies. ok anyways onto the fic kiss kiss.

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“well would you look at that!” your stylist squeals in your ear, “from the moment you won your last games i have just been dying to design for you again and… here we are!” she ushers you to spin around.

she’d always been kind to you, perhaps less kind to your dignity- always wanting to flaunt you like a show pony- but nonetheless her support had always been there.

“it’s beautiful, thank you.” you smile small at her. so bittersweet, she was oh-so ecstatic to dress you up once more but to you- this meant less serenity to you. more agitation, more distress, more death.

it felt like a paradox, to be adorned in this sweet, innocent, baby pink before you’re sent away to a grim world once again- you’d already gone off on a tangent to finnick. you’d both sobbed solemnly about the cruelty of it all, how you would never be able to live in peace.

but finnick just wanted you both to have this one night, to indulge in the capitol before you were sent of to your deaths, obviously he would see the brighter side of thing- blabbering about plutarchs plan and how he only needs to protect you, katniss, and peeta until he can get you out of there.

sounds so very simple doesn’t it?

once you’d finished your interview you attended a party, a celebration for the third quarter quell. how ironic, what was there to celebrate?

you’d seen the food platters, the spiked drinks, and indulge you did.

your brain had been fuzzy by the time you’d escape the overbearing class of the capitol citizens, who wanted to know every detail of your life.

it was then- finnick had spotted you- so inebriated you’d genuinely laugh at something the woman next to you said.

feasibly being that she’d said something so pretentious you couldn’t help but tilt your head back in laughter. but nonetheless he admired.

he admired your dress, your smile, the way your eyes slightly disappeared when you laughed, the way your hair was laying down your back. he was simply under the spell of you.

it was then your eyes met his smitten ones, so love drunk- or possibly just drunk- that you’d excused yourself and made a beeline straight for him.

he’d encaptured you with warm arms, a leather corset-like article of clothing consumed his waist- followed by his white buttoned down that seemed to be unbuttoned.

you noticed the way his eyes consumed you- not like the others did. not like you were a piece of cake, not like you were something they had to have for the night, but someone who lit his chest alight.

“you look beautiful.” he murmurs into your hair, his hands around your waist.

“i hardly feel that way- im scared, i think.”

he shook his head, pulling you from his warm embrace much to your dismay. “don’t be. you’re with me right now.” finnicks plush lips lay atop your forehead now.

you laugh as he continues to peck your face, giggles leaving your lips.”so beautiful.”

it was only when you nearly toppled over your unnecessarily long pumps that he took not of your consumption.

“so head over heels it seems you’ve had a little to much to drink. what do you say i get you back to your room now? hm?” he straightens you back up. “run you a bath?”

you let out a muffled mm into his chest, your other hand placed on the side of his chest holding you steady. “love you s’much finn.”

it was his turn to laugh now, there was no mockery, no heinous act behind it, just you and finnick. “i know baby.”

-

dude your writing has literally altered my brain chemistry omg i LOVE it and wanted to see if i could send a finnick req. in? maybe something with a district 4 victor!reader and they both got reaped together (either for third quarter quell or previous games) and they show at a party or something and finnick is just enamored by the reader the whole night, especially their outfit xx

loved writing this one. u worded this amazingly and i hope u liked it baby. kiss kiss.

RIDE COWGIRL !

pairing; finnick odair x f!reader

summary; a slow kiss with finnick has a twist of fate.

contains; SMUT!! mdni. riding, small innocence kink, size kink, established relationship, takes place pre- third quarter quell.

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it was a cozy night in, finnick had been laying in bed with you on top of him, stroking your hair as he read his book.

he’d been so enamored with his book and you whined, so desperate for his attention.

“my baby is so needy.” he lets out a tsk as he places his book on the side table. placing his palms on both sides of your face in an effort to pull you close to him.

you grin, sitting with your legs on either side of him now as you leaned into the warmth’s his hands offered.

your lips connect with his, his hands left your face to run up and down your back as you let out a sound of satisfaction.

the kiss slowly turns into a his tongue assaulting yours in the sweetest way. you can taste him in your mouth- smiling through the kiss.

your hand reached behind his neck to dance with the hairs at the nape of his neck, still so soft, so pure. he deepens the kiss at this, stopping his hands at your hips and grabbing them firmly.

in reaction to his grip your crotch rubs further into his through your sleepwear. he pulls away from the kiss- letting out a huff of air.

you move your hips to slide off of him- but he buckles you down, forcing you to stay put. “stay on top of me.” he demands lowly.

you know exactly what he means behind those words, feeling an ache in your core.

his shirt had already been disregarded as he’d gone into bed- but now his nimble fingers expertly unhooked you bra and rid you of your shirt within seconds.

you grind down on him once more, his head falling back onto the pillow. his neck looks so inviting, so sapid.

you lean down into him, your mouth carries on attack to his neck as his hands find you chest- kneading into your breasts.

once you retreat from his neck he lifts your waist, neglecting your sleeping shorts and underwear. his follow soon after and you find your way back atop him.

finnicks size is well accounted for, you hesitate above his length. he of course, notices. taking his time to tease you, he’d never been in a rush in times like these. always wanting to take all the time in the world to be inside of you with that pleasure, he blames you for making it hard to last too long.

“don’t think it’ll fit sweetheart?” finnick purrs. his rough, big hands find your waist once again , lining you up and sinking you onto his tip. “don’t worry, i’ve got you doll.”

you all but scream out at the intrusion. “you can take it baby.” you sink into him completely, hiding your face in his neck- engulfed by his scent as you attempt to set a steady pace.

“fuck finnick.” your voice rings through his ears- fucking him dumb as he moves your body for you- he just about rolls his eyes back into his head at the sensation this new position brings.

he thinks he’ll cum now just by the way your tiny body can barely take all of him.

your sit upright, back arched and hands finding stability on his chest- taking back the control of your body as you let your hips subsequently rise and fall whilst rubbing against him.

“atta girl.” he cooes, hands finding your ass.

you feel that all too familiar coil build in your stomach, “i’m close.” you choke out.

“not until i say so.”

the pleasure is too much for you- he knows this- but pushes you further, placing two fingers in between where the both of you connect- rubbing and pressing on your swollen clit.

you whimper obscenities, unnerved at his insistence. i can’t’s and it’s too much.

“so pretty like this, so tight.” finnick chokes out, grabbing your hips and bouncing you against his length. expletives follow as he recognizes he’s nearing his climax.

just when you think you can’t hold it back anymore he lets out a low, “you can let go now sweet girl, cum for me baby.”

at his words, his beck and call, you moan out- the feeling causing your legs to shake. he pants your name like a prayer- like your body is his to worship, cheeks red like a sinner.

he continues to bruise you love handles with his grip- allowing you both to ride out your high. once you’ve come down your body falls slack against him- too dumbfounded to do anything else.

once more he strokes your hair, once more he tells you, “i’ve got you doll, i’ve got you.”

-

KNEW THE GAME & PLAYED IT ?

pairing; finnick odair x f!reader

summary; finnick has to let you go to save you- he can’t simply see you off if he still has his teeth sunk in- he has to make you hate him.

contains; ANGST, self hatred, insults, mean!finnick, manipulation, alcohol consumption, mentions of forced prostitution

a/n: this might be like a ballpark idea because in retrospect i don’t see finnick being rude but honestly as a last resort, i think he’d be able to suck it up and go for the throat… but that’s just me thinking w my dick…

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all he needed was the right moment, the right moment where he’d be just barely drunk and in the capitol- waiting for his capitol facade to fall right into place, for his mask to be put on and become self assured, confident, charming, arrogant.

he loved you to the point of no return, he loved you so badly that he thought encasing himself around you would be able to yield the harsh bullets the capitol shot your way- his plans went awry when you had been reaped for the 70th hunger games.

it was only after panick attacks, after sitting infront of his screen- watching you kill, starve and scream, did he realize that if you came out of this- the only way he’d be able to protect you would be to have nothing to do with you.

finnick thought he was a plague, he held himself responsible for his parents death, for not being able to help mags out enough, for not being able to save his own tributes. he was a plague and it was sickening- he wouldn’t let himself hurt you any longer.

he’d held you after you won your games, showered you, comforted you at night, talked you through the nightmares-even when he had his own demons tormenting every waking moment of his life.

but once your victory tour had ended, he couldn’t quite let you go- it seemed you couldn’t either. he’d isolate himself, keeping himself locked away in the victor’s village. he feared if he even went outside his home, his feet would lead him right back to your doorstep, like a puppy.

but you would barge in, you’d cry to eachother, hold eachother, make up, tell eachother you’d never leave, that you can’t be apart from one another.

and that part wasn’t a lie, he couldn’t breath without your familiar scent suffocating him, he couldn’t sleep if you weren’t wrapped around him, he couldn’t eat if he wasn’t sitting across from you. but he’d give up the oxygen, the food, the sleep, just so you would be safe. he’d do it any day if you asked him.

so here you were, at a capitol party- one of many you required to go to. finnick had avoided you all night, staying put at the side of the older woman who’d bought his nineteen year old self for the night.

he’d laugh, drink, joke with these monsters only to hold back the inconsolable sobs that begged to leave his throat at the thought of what he would do to you later.

you were hugged in a black dress, sticking out like a sore thumb in the sea of neons. it was only about halfway through the party that his eyes found yours, you swore you saw guilt and pity flash through them.

“excuse me, i’ll be in the restroom.” he smiled to the woman next to him, she didn’t seem to be too distraught at him taking leave.

you followed him to the outdoor terrace, shivering once the cold wind made contact with your backless dress and shoulders.

once away from all of the windows he leaned on the railing, sucking his lips into his teeth.

you stopped beside him, ready for an embrace- only met with his cold stare down at you.

it was then that finnick decided he would bite the bullet- and he could’ve sworn he could taste the gunpowder down his throat already.

“what wrong finnick?”you grabbed his bare shoulder with one hand, the other one touching his face. he swore he could’ve melted, could’ve forgotten all about saving you right there- to continue poisoning you with the fatal injection that was being associated with him.

finnick laughed that signitaure faux-money grabbing laugh. “oh come one princess, you don’t have to act like you need me anymore.” he shrugged out of your touch.

your eyes squinted, was this an act, was this him wanting to end things? there was a fine line between love and pure obsession and you hadn’t known where it started or where it ended. “what?” you move towards him again- it seemed being too far away made the cool air more unbearable.

“i’m sure you loved the money, the sponsors, the jewels, everything the capitol- everything i gave you” his eyes were dark, selling the act, glaring down into your soul. “but you won your games y/n, no need to follow me around like a lost puppy anymore.”

was that what you’d done? was that what it’d seemed like? like you were stringing him along for your survival?

you blamed the wind still blowing in your face for your watery eyes, but it was more so the sound of your heart shattering with each word he spoke. venom; hot and heavy on his beautiful mouth- and he spit it at you like you were dirt.

“i don’t understand finnick? i thought-“

he only laughs this time, so sinister, so in your face, he takes a step closer to you, sizing you up. “you thought we loved eachother?” he mocks, raising his eyebrows and amusement. his body is giving out and his heart is breaking inside- but he’d much rather live miserably and rot away than watch the capitol strip you of all you were good for simply because they had the picture perfect sex symbols as a couple. “i mean the sex was great, y/n- don’t get me wrong. but thats all it was. you trying to survive, and me taking the opportunity for pleasure.”

your first tear falls, he’s tearing you to shred. tearing through your sheer layer of clothes and the skin beneath it, reaching for you heart, grabbing it then throwing it to the concrete.”how could you say that? after everything how dare you say that?” you sob out.

“oh baby, i thought you knew?” he shakes his head at you, you feel like your a little girl again, but not free nor innocent and happy. you feel excluded- cut out, labeled as something subjective, so ripe, yet so very rotten.

“finnick let’s just leave.” blinking through tears, you go to grab his arm but he shakes out of your grip, disgust written on his face. if only you’d known it was all for himself. if only you’d known what the capitol would make the two of you do if this went any further- what snow would do. “let’s leave, we can go home, we can talk about this finnick.” you beg, raw emotion tears through you voice as you plead through tears.

he flashes you the most charming smile, “i love the flattery, but if you want to spend the night with me- all you have to do is take a bid and buy me out princess.” his smile drops as he turns around to walk out. “glad to know what the eroticism of your company brings though, tastes like a whole lot of tears and daddy issues.”

people have begun to flow into the terrace now, admiring the view. but your view was the man you’d given every last bit of your mind body and soul to, walking away without looking back.

your legs can’t bare to carry your body, can’t bare to keep up with his long strides that beg to put a distance between you two. “finnick!” you scream, almost growl.

but he’s gone, whisked away back into the party.

you want to scream, you want to vomit, your stomach is doing flips. every part of you feels violated.

some part of you wishes you died in that arena, and some part of him does too.

-

send requests!!! i’ll be taking them asap!!

married fluffy life with finnick??

YES! i see all of your guys inbox and comments and i will very much write this to heal you from “knew the game and played it” very sorry about that! but i very much love this idea!!!

i have a honeymoon with finnick posted but i think genuine married life w him is different.

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married life with finnick is going to be no short of a dream, this is after the games have been destroyed, you both live in a little house by the shore. and i say little house because he doesn’t care for the glitz and glamour like the victors village did.

all finnick needs is you, the ocean, and your kids.

dad!finnick i can see with little boys, probably aged five and two.

you’ll sit in the sun with your youngest, admiring finnick who’s trying to teach your oldest boy how to surf, desperately trying to pop his little body up on the surfboard.

but earlier in your marriage, when it’s just the two of you, it’s you he’s trying to teach how to surf.

“finnick, how am i supposed to stand up on a board when it’s wet and slippery?” you whine as he has you sat on the surfboard, walking you out through the still water to the waves.

he only laughs at you, “i’m sure thousands of people in panem have figured it out baby, you will too. just go on- i’ll tell you when to pop up.” he cheekily taps your ass with a wink, sending you off once you’ve reached the waves.

once you’ve finally- somewhat- rode the wave he meets you halfway in the water, his hair is wet when he meets you. finnick pulls you into his body, “good girl, i know you’ve got it!” he kisses your forehead, then your cheeks, then moves to your lips- further pulling your body into his as the water around you crashes waves.

you taste the salt on his lips, the devotion in his kiss, he kisses away all your fear- and he blesses the gods that your fear now was only of falling into the water upside down- not of death, or violation.

i also think that yes, the nightmare would still plague you the coming yours after the games ended, he’d had his fair share that you wouldn’t hug him through, whisper sweet nothings in his ear until he fell asleep, you’d tell him his worth and that nothing he’d done would define him, he had no other choice and he was just a scared kid.

you’d wake up a handful of nights screaming, hiding your muffled cries into your pillow.

he’d stretch, snake his arms around you- holding your sweaty body still as sobs wreck your soul, and his.

each cry you let out pains him, “i know baby. i know, sweet girl.” his voice is comparatively deeper due to his short awakening.

-

master list

KILLS TO KNOW !

part one

pairing; finnick odair x f!reader

summary; set in his ways, finnick got the best of you- you’d forgiven him- but you are so quick to temper.

contains; ANGST, self hatred, insults, mean!reader (she got her get-back fr fr), if ykwim, manipulation, mentions of forced prostitution.

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you and finnick had talked, briefly. you’d formed an alliance- it killed you like a disease. all for plutarchs plan of rebellion which had worked, except for peeta and johanna- oh, peeta and johanna

you felt physically sick seeing the young boy on capitol news, and to have the intuition of knowing what they’d likely done to johanna- it all made you sick.

katniss and finnick had been sedated upon arrival to district thirteen, you’d been much too preoccupied with the bullet wound in your abdomen to care. it seemed it was torment after torment after torment in the third quarter quell.

blood rain, monkeys, poisonous fog, and worst of all- after you, johanna, beetee, and wiress found the others after the blood rain and unfortunate death of johanna’s district partner, finnick looked at you with pity.

soaked in somebody else’s blood, frantically washing it off in the water whilst johanna gets it out of your hair, how dare he look at you with pity?

now here you were, in such an extravagant set of a hospital gown, unable to make any moves without the hawk eyes of a nurse.

it wasn’t until your curtain flew open- your hopefulness begged it to be news of a rescue but much to your dismay, it was only finnick.

he didn’t say anything, he just looked into your careless eyes and face that lacked its old vibrancy.

“they had to sedate me.” he doesn’t look too good either, his under eyes are grey and red- but what do you care, right? “they had to sedate me because i wouldn’t stop screaming for you.”

you had to bite back a snarky response, or bile- you didn’t know. “will you leave me alone if i tell you how much i care?” to you, right now, that wasn’t snarky. that was honest.

he only pinched the bridge of his nose- it seemed he’d purposefully locked himself out of your mind and couldn’t get the door to open again. “there’s so much i wanted to say, that i couldn’t. because i have cared, y/n. each and every minute since i met you i’ve cared and it didn’t stop after that night.”

you laughed- in his face. your ears must be deceiving you. there was no way finnick odair in his right mind had come to his knees and begged you to understand him? to reason with him?

“the capitol taught their darling well, i almost believed your act for a second, finnick.” you spit his name out- like fire on your tongue, desperate to have the word leave your mouth- it left a bitter taste. “if you came here to have me understand you- you’re four years late.”

you knew how to press his buttons, but he knew how to press yours too- how could you forget? it was the last thing he’d ever done to you- defile you at your most vulnerable- desecrate you when you had only ever beamed at him with pure love and adoration.

“i had to protect you, if only you’d let me speak you’d understand-“

“no! i don’t want to understand finnick! i don’t want to hear you speak or explain. i healed myself from the torture that is you. so i hope im not spoiling your glory or satisfaction from winning me over again, but i will not be left to put myself back together again because of you- i’ve lost the hatred and anger, all i am now is over it.”

you were right, he was a form of torture- knowing him was a dark sickness of death and pain- but he thought it would have been left in the districts- not here. he thought he could explain now- but you were utterly closed off at him. finnick held his pleas in- his wails of sorrow- all these years he held them in, all he had to do now was manage to snuff them out.

“things are different now.” he annunciated each word, made then sharp, made you really listen to what he was saying. “i’m not going to excuse what i said, or how i left you. but it was different then- we aren’t in the capitol anymore.”

you were confused at what he was insinuating, so you let him continue this time.

“it was the only way to keep you away from harm.” if by harm, he meant the life or death prostitution you faced on a monthly basis- then he’d failed miserably at protecting you- but you were wrong.

“i’ve heard whispers of what they’d make us do, y/n.”

us?

“snow had made his points very clear, i had two options but i made my own choice- i had to leave you.”

your eyes were burning into his, red brimmed and damp. you wanted to speak but the sinking feeling in your stomach suppressed it all.

there was something in his eyes, something you hadn’t seen since he held you all those years ago- kissing your forhead as the sobs wrecked through your body. the blood of kids your age still so fresh on your hands, heavy on your mind.

“i believe you.” it was all you could let out, you didn’t want to cry in front of him- you didn’t even know why this all hurt you so much. all these years you spent hating someone who had only done what he had done to protect you from him. you hated someone who already so deeply hated himself he let go of the only good thing in your his life to save it.

“it’s not your fault.” he reached out to you- hand running over your knuckles that lie in your lap. you don’t respond, your jaw is clenched and it doesn’t matter how long you’d been apart he can read you like an open book. finnick knows you’re fighting back tears, that you’re blaming yourself, you’re almost as self destructive as him. “y/n, it’s not your fault.”

he could repeat it all he wants but it won’t stop you from thinking it’s true, not now- maybe not ever.

but maybe he’d teach you how to forgive yourself- he who knows best than anyone. and maybe you’d teach him too. maybe you’d be help eachother heal.

-

masterlist

FEMALE ROBBERY !

pairing; finnick odair x dist4!victor!f!reader

summary; meeting finnick at your capitol victor party, he is nothing short of entranced.

contains; fluff! just pure fluff, innocent- sweet, comforting, brief mentions of forced prostitution but no detail.

a/n; i was lowkey turning into anakin skywalker when i started writing about how much reader hates sand but it adds personality ok…

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you were shivering, teeth practically chattering. the wide doors that led to the back of the luxurious party-mansion were wide open. your dress offered little warmth and neither did the people around you- their arrogance and bright colors offered no heat, no coziness, no reminders of home.

your wearing a corset dress- low cut, your chest on great display, you feel like the short hemmed bottomed makes you out to flash everyone at this party.

your hair has braids scattered about- your original hair texture is long gone with the amount of heat styling they’ve done on it throughout your victory tour and interviews. bows adorn the ends of each small braid that lays on your now, flat- straight hair.

the meaningless conversation, and congratulations throughout this party is enough to drive you mad. you need air- oh-so cold but nonetheless you needed more air. you’re feet are moving past people- people who grab at you, yelling praises, trying to get a passing word with you.

but you’re mind is racing, you need to sit in silence and breath.

you find a garden- you don’t have enough greenery back in your district, more ocean, too much sand, too much heat.

the sand got everywhere. you couldn’t complain about the ocean- oh, how you loved the water. but once the sand got in your hair, your shoes, your towel, your clothes- it couldn’t get out. it seemed sand would never leave you alone- president snow reminded you all too much of sand.

it felt like an infirmary sentencing, a life estimation. once the words ‘capitols doll’ left his mouth, ‘desirable’, ‘young, sweet, and pretty’ you felt sick- you’d live your life in misery until another innocent tribute would come along and take all of the heat. but you’d always be in a hotel room, in the capitol, entertaining the people like a puppet on a string.

you don’t think you’ve been warm since you heard those words, you don’t think there’s been enough air- but now, in this garden, everything seems okay.

you sit on a bench, rose bushes surrounding you, a few flowers you can name but never seen- only in books.

your hands are in your lap now, fingers playing with one another- your deep breathes began to lower your blood pressure.

until you hear footsteps nearing on the cold- crunchy grass that’s been frozen over from the weather.

he’s tall- shirtless. what stylist would do that to someone in this nippy weather? but you think your stylist would send you off to these parties naked if he had no decency, too.

he’s finnick odair. even the wind flirting your eyes can recognize that. how couldnt you? the poster boy of your district, sex symbol of panem, but you don’t comprehend any of it.

“you’ve found my spot.” he’s smirking, you can understand why people in the capitol swoon over him- not even six seconds and your body rushes with warm blood.

then you process his words, slowly scrambling to grab your clutch and rising to your feet. he puts his hand up, signaling for you to halt your movements.

“it’s nice to have company.” and so you move your bag over , allowing him more room to sit on the bench.

you don’t speak, atleast you don’t know what to say- you don’t ask questions or say something stupid. finnicks voice breaks the thick barrier of silence; “nice party they gave you.”

he’s joking, and his slight laugh makes you laugh. you’d won nearly a month ago- many sleepless nights covered with makeup and fake eyelashes. “yeah, i’m so grateful for them all.” you breathily laugh off.

the playfulness of this all is refreshing. it almost makes you long forget about your grim past and even darker impending doom.

he turns his head towards you, scanning your face- then to the rose bushes surrounding the both of you- then back to your face. “too many roses every where, i’m starting to hate the smell of them.”

you pick up on his small talk, and you almost laugh a little- he’s acting like a grade-school boy. “i’m beginning to think it possibly the ugliest thing natures created now.”

“mags told me about how mentoring you went, we were all relieved when you won.” you wince when you think about that, he knows that better then anyone here. the heart sinking feeling when your brain slips up for a second- that you don’t let yourself think to hard about, nor too long.

“thanks.” he doesn’t even know you yet, but he know that even if you don’t speak too much the ones you do vocalize have meaning, no vacancy in them. “are you cold?” you can’t help but voice your curiosity.

he looks down on himself, almost as though his body brings him guilt in a way. like he’s ashamed to own it, you’re sure you’ll understand soon.

but within seconds his guard is back up, back to the capitol darling. he simply places your hand on his shoulder, he’s forcing your body to move but in the most genuine way anyone has ever done so.

you feel your cold finger tips merge with his radiant shoulder, like a hypothermic to a heater.

finnicks aura is simply heat, not a touch of coldness. you wonder if it’s his insides pouring into his physical being. does he not have any cold feelings in his heart? is he genuine? “how are you warm right now?”

he only laughs as you try to remove your hand from him in the least awkward way you can, placing your hands back into your lap. there’s so many things you want to ask him, tell him. his soul is like a confession booth, that you’ve heard before. all the secrets he knows, all of the words only he’s been told.

“does it get better? even if you’ve been told something that doesn’t make you think it will?” he can only imagine what your last words mean, and now his heart drops. no- not someone like you? so young so unsuspecting, but weren’t they all?

“if you have someone to lean on, you’ll be okay.”

you frown at this, despite your fear of making yourself seem like a complete and utter loser to the golden boy of panem- you say; “and if i don’t?” you can’t help but think about your overworked tired parents, never home, never cared too much. your friends who you don’t see all too much.

“if you don’t,” he looks up from his lap now, eyes locked onto yours, only your eyes ever- not your exposed chest or the dress that rides up your thighs. “you have me if you’re willing, i think we’ve gotten on well.”

this makes you smile to yourself, you can’t look into his eyes any longer you think you’ll get lost. you feel like a school girl, unable to breathe around the presence of your crush. “i don’t know you all that well, finnick odair.”

he shakes his head, “haven’t you read the news, y/n l/n?” he’s mimicking your words, almost in a sing-song way.

“i don’t tend to make premeditated decisions on who someone is based on what the capitol news says. i prefer to get to know them instead.”

“well, let’s get to know eachother then.” his body turns toward you. flattening his hands onto his lap. “favorite color?”

you look at the grass before you, the stems of the flowers around you, the feeble, poor excuses of barely full bushes that line the sand before the water in district four. “green, not a dark green. something in the middle.” your eyes flick back to his, almost the perfect green you were talking about. “and you?”

“blue.” his two fingers pick up the bows at the end of your hair, you almost roll your eyes at this. too charming you could laugh.

“what are you scared of?”

he thinks about this one, taking a moment to relay his thoughts. it wasn’t death, no. he wouldn’t be scared when his time came, he would just hope the people he loves would be okay, that they’d get through it without him.

“becoming one of them.” he nods his head back to the people scuffling about in frilly dresses and skirts around the main party center. “so moral-less, so demanding. so many things i don’t want to be.”

you shake your head now, “i don’t think you could ever be one of them.” to anyone else this would be an insult, being apart of the capitol was little girls and boys dreams. to live so lavishly and carefree. but once you’ve seen it all, you just want to be by the ocean- at peace, unbothered with those who meant the most to you. “you’re much too good for that.”

finnick believes you, it’s like all he’s needed his whole life was your words that had no hint of second meaning. only pure, true, clean. “if it means anything, i know you couldn’t be anyways. no matter how many bows they put in your hair.” he laughs again, that charming chuckle that sends a butterfly to your stomach. “you have a good heart, i hope that it stays that way.”

it’s all so honest , the whole interaction. but you’ve been away from your own party far too long and you’re almost scared to upset people. “i have to go. i’ll see you around, finnick.” his name is foreign to your tongue almost, but its welcome.

finnick then stands quickly, “when will i see you again?” he almost looks worried.

“soon. we live in the same village after all.”

-

inspired by my favorite, @mrsnancywheeler ‘s fic

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ONE FOR THE ROAD !

pairing; mentor!finnick x victor!reader

summary; you’ve been finnicks since the moment you met, after your interviews you break- who can fix you better than him?

contains; ANGST/FLUFF, two idiots in love, typical thg themes- i’m sure by now you know what i mean ;(

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finnick watched you from behind the curtains of the stage, somewhere in a hallway with your face on the screen infront of you. watching you with your hand over your heart as you gushed about your faux-greatfulness to the capitol.

he watched your face drop as all of your kills were flashed onto the large screen, he watched the squint in your eyes, the way your brows furrowed, the way your jaw clenched. he pleaded now to you, through his mind- bury the hatchet sweet girl, don’t fall apart, you’ve made it this far.

his fingers were crossed his foot tapping anxiously until the milisecond your interview concluded.

your stylists crowded around the hallway, waiting to applaud you on how good you were- but finnick knew you better than anyone, he kept his distance.

your presence came with fury, tearing off your ridiculous headpiece- it falling to the ground in pieces with seconds. each step you took seemed to get angrier. your stylists behind you with a hand on their chest. something their dull minds couldn’t understand, how could she be so angry when it’s over with?

when you turned the corner and he saw you, when he saw the darkness in your eyes clouding your every move. desperate to be alone, to rot away- he twisted you around and into him.

you fought against him- struggling to release yourself from his hold. finnick only pulled you closer to him, with a tighter hold. “it’s okay, you’re okay.” he hushed into your ear, your arms softened. they found a home around his neck while your head hid away in his neck.

“no,” you only shook your head. how could he lie to you when you’re like this? “it’s not, it’s not fucking fair.”

he understand, if anyone- he understands. “i’m still me, you’re still you.” he said that and he wanted to believe it, wanted it to be true. thought maybe the cards would fall into the right lineup for him- to all be in his favor, but when had they ever been?

“no im not.” you didn’t believe him, and he couldn’t believe himself- maybe the two of you could build a city of lies in your heads.

you wanted to tell him what a monster you were, how awful you were-but he had to have already known .

he’d watched you be the most deceitful creature in the game, the most twisted, two fast creature. you’re sure he knew.

“yes you are princess, i know it’s bad but you’re safe, you’re with me.” finnicks voice always had this perfect serene pitch, even when you didn’t mean to- in a world of voices it would be the only thing you could focus on.

the tears cascaded down your face, black mascara indefinetly staining his white sweater.

he would never admit this out loud, it almost ate him up inside thinking it- and he would beat himself up for it for as long as he lived, but you were not the same- you never would be. but he could love you in any way you came.

you weren’t the same girl who would collect the seashells that reminded you of him and run up to his door with a basket full of them- you would never be the same girl who’s eyes would sparkle at the smallest conversation between you, him, and mags in her living room on a summer night. the same girl who’d laugh so hard that your stomach ached and you’d slap his shoulder.

you weren’t the same girl. and he knew that the moment your knife went for your allies neck, the way you screamed when the last cannon went off.

and you’d never say it, but you thought of him. every time someone would charge at you- desperate to hear the cannon. you thought about how all you needed to do was run home into his arm and scream at him for not letting you love him sooner.

and now, now he needed to think of you. think of your loving touch- your pure heart and the sound of your overjoyed laugh when he’d hug you too tight- or catch you off guard with a joke. he needed to think about brining all this anger- this hate, this disgust and guilt out of you- for he’d rather take it all on himself than watch it eat at you.

so he would hold you close when you woke up screaming, bathe you when your body was too tired to hold itself up, whisper sweetheart nothings into your ear as he cradles you back into a deep slumber.

-

a/n; very short, just wanted to get a lil angst out for u guys ;))

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PITY PARTY !

‟ and he loved her like he loved no one,

the way she’d laugh and hold a smoking gun. „

pairing;finnick x victor!f!reader

summary;finnick odair is a man of many fortunes, all he wish he didn’t posses- red, hot, and irate he lets it fool you.

contains; ANGST, self destructive-finnick&reader, insinuations of infidelity, acts of non-con, arguments, TW descriptive forced prostitution.

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it was your victory party, supposed to to be the happiest night since your games.

it was only the most stressful, the most draining. you hair was pulled up almost too tight you gained a headache, dress to tight you could suffocate. champagne flute after champagne flute, finnick had slid away from you- told you he’d be back nearly an hour ago.

you were struggling to stand, your arms were crossed over your indecent frame- chilly, without finnicks presence. without your finnick.

you went up to a familiar face, he was near your age- you think he’s friends with finnick? but how do you know what’s real in the capitol?

“have you seen where finnick went?” your head tilts to the side slightly, and by the way his breathy laugh reached your nostrils and the alcoholic scent burned your senses, you can tell he’s probably drunker than you.

the man has to steady himself from laughing so hard, you were almost concerned at his inebriated he was. “oh you sweet naive victor, he has quite the track record. where would a boy like yours possibly be at a party like this- i mean he’s not much of a boy after all he’s done.”

you’d zoned out halfway into his sentence, was finnick known for getting too tipsy? was there something you didn’t know? was the man you were speaking too so drunk he had lost his mind?

you began to slowly slip away from the man, slipping past people, looking for that soft, gentle, sweet face.

the air was getting too thick, your breath began to quicken, everything was moving in slow. your mind was begging for someone to find help for you, to find finnick.

you find your stylist, he was nice- you think. he’d done you a great fault with the comfortability of your get-up, but otherwise you’d trusted him.

“y/n!” he smiles, ecstatic to see you but a hint of concern in his features and he takes your glass of booze, placing it down on the table. his concern seemed too strong to be just for your alcohol consumption, like there was something else. something you didn’t know, or couldn’t know. “how are you?”

what the fuck?

“where’s finnick.” you’re feet hurt, your heads throbbing, your body is buzzing and you are so sick of not being apart of whatever’s going on.

now your stylist looks pitifully towards you, “oh honey, room five.”

your shoulders slump. was he okay? had he gotten a panick attack? you rush towards to intimate rooms, you weren’t sure if you could count to the number five right now but your mind assumed he’d be in the only closed room.

your worry is sickening, the chill in this mansion is sickening, the confusion of it all is purely- sickening. your hand twists the knob open, ready to see his tears in the dark- but you don’t see his eyes at all.

“yes! i love that finnick. i love you!” she’s under him, her skirt is pushed up- his eyes are screwed shut- his beautiful eyes are screwed shut.

who is this woman? her hair is curly, long, blonde, she seems tall but you can’t see much of her, she seems older. this seems wrong- almost. why is she saying she loves him? who is this woman, lying?

you don’t know how long it takes you to perceive it all, but she looks up and notices you- shrieking in exposé.

you just barely see his head shoot up, before you’ve closed the door. your back flies to the wall opposite of the door, you hear shuffling. you hear her asking him where he’s going.

you can’t breath.

it’s like you’ve taken a shot to the heart, and you’re bleeding out. your body can’t move, you want to run. you don’t want to know, you’re sure of it.

you’re not even sure you want to hear him speak, not for a long time. not until your world stops spinning.

you’ve just started to move, you’ve just started to escape. when the door flies open, your name is being called- no shouted.

but finnicks legs move faster than yours, longer, with flat shoes and hefty strides he’s grabbed your wrist in seconds and he’s spinning you around to face him.

you want to scream, no more, please. but your words are stolen from you, his face looks like he’s just walked in on the same thing you did.

he looks like he wants to speak, to say something. he looks into the corner of the hallway, at the light fixtures, the cameras, and the words are lost on his tongue.

it has felt like ever since finnick had won his games, there was a part of his soul you would never understand, and you thought that you would- and if you told him this, he would probably tell you it’s too early for you to know just yet.

his eyes fall back onto yours, and his eyes are frantic- switching back and forth between each eye. again, you’re missing something, there’s something you’re not picking up, and as much as you want to scream and run away from him- to cry- you stay.

“what the fuck is happening.” you’re trying to sober-up now, your hand finds your hair. and you’re taking steps away from him, your eyes are wide.

he hasn’t moved a muscle, finnick thinks the odds have never been worse for him. does he break you or does he seal your fate with a scarlet letter?

“what the fuck is happening!” you repeat, turning around to face him now, he looks back to the camera, and back to you. and you aren’t in the right state for this. “finnick!” you place your hands on either side of his face, you’re trying to tiptoe around this.

he takes an inhale, trying to find solace in your sweet smell- but all that fills his senses is the alcohol hot and heavy on your tongue. “your drunk, y/n.”

your hands fall from his face, this is cruel, the present is too cruel. and at that moment he’s chosen your fate, you break.

a cry leaves your mouth, your hand going over it, shaking. he feels sick now, his pupils are blown and he’s shaking, he swears his own heart has stopped.

you’re sobbing, and it’s because of him. finnick odair was a selfish monster. finnick odair was a liar, a tyrant. but he was your boy, the same man who spun you around when you wore long skirts just to hear the giggle leave your lips. the same man who didn’t sleep for days when you were reaped- moreso until you came out of that arena. the same man who gave everything he had just so you’d gain sponsors.

and you thought you could be that same girl for him, the same girl who held him when he cried the night before you left for the arena, unable to hold his composure for you any longer.

and now, you’re tears couldn’t stop, and his couldn’t either. you were too stunned to move, and he couldn’t stop muttering words that made no sense.

“lets just go home, please.” he pleads, he would get on his hands and knees. he’d die for you to stop feeling like this, he’d soak it all up just so you would stop.

“how many women?” you remember his own friends words, he has quite the track record- not much of a boy after all he’s done.

and his eyes screw shut once more, a look he often wears when he wants something to be over with, and quick. and you can recognize that from the scene that will forever be etched into your mind.

and he sees you, piece it together in your mind- he sees it all line up for you. he sees the red hot fury behind your lashes, he then sees it turn into an unwary look.

“who’s making you do this?”

he shakes his head, his hand running over his wet face. “stop, now.” there are ears everywhere, even when you’re the loneliest in panem, you are never the only person there.

and his heart races at the thought of how your concern for the good in him will push to your demise, how if you say the words you were never supposed to know, he may never see you again.

and when you go to speak, he slaps a hand over your mouth, he’s rough, he’s not himself. he turns you around- pushing you away from him as he rushes out the emergency exit.

you chase after him, and somehow he’s still faster than you. there’s fresh tears in his cheeks it the cold air, he thinks they’ll freeze. you’re screaming after him, he thinks it’s nothing more than a bad dream.

he wished he wasn’t there, like he was in the backseat as his body moved farther and farther away from you. a second hand perspective on himself and he didn’t know who he was.

and once more, finnick odair was a plague. a wrath awakening in every bridge he burned.

-

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WINNERS PRIZE !

one

pairing; mentor!finnick x victor!reader

summary; tough love turns to rough luck, mentor!finnick cant help but worship you, and victor!reader can’t wait to have him.

contains; SMUT! mdni. minor choking kink idk, oral, f!recieving, penetration, dom!finnick, sub!reader, lmk if i missed anything.

you kiss him, pull him impossibly close to you until you can’t anymore- until your lungs now beg for oxygen- but all you want to do is breath him in. you pull away, and your eyes open, nearly in shock, but more in amusement.

“believe me now?”

it’s the way he purrs if, the way it’s echoing through your ears. it makes it so you can’t answer, you’re not sure you can even think. all you want is the feeling of his lips on yours again- but what you want is wrong.

your aching for him, and where it is, is wrong. so wrong, you shouldn’t have even kissed your mentor- you should feel dirty, ashamed. and he notices your shock. of course he does.

“what’s wrong?” to him your expression is unreadable, and he’s scared. are you going to scream at him? are you going to regret it all? did he overstep? your lips on his again quiets his mind, it soothes him.

you’re pulling him into you, and he thinks he’s in heaven. there’s no better feeling than your fingertips dancing around the back of he neck, your hand grasping onto his shoulder, your soft lips moving against him.

you pull him out of his thoughts, “finnick?”

and he hears his voice when he speaks, he hears his urgency to assist to you and only you in this moment. he could care less about himself. “what is it what’s wrong?” your faces are touching, he’s looking into your eyes as yours are down at his lips, scanning over every feature of his face.

“touch me.” you don’t say where, and you don’t care. you need to feel his hands on you, grabbing at you in desperation.

and that he does, without a moment to spare his hands are mapping you out. his mouth is feverishly back onto yours, a groan being muffled by your mouths on one another.

one of his hands is controlling your movements, resting on the middle of your back. the other only slightly below it, right before the curve of your bottom, his hands are hungry and so is his mouth- devouring you.

your bodies are pressed up against one another, and he squeezes your ass- surprising you. your hips rock forwards onto his and as if in-sync, you both moan out.

he’s tented onto your heat, thin dress making you all the more sensitive. every touch made you squirm, set your skin alight. and he noticed that, it drove him mad. thinking about how delicate you were now, only making him then realize the two of you were still standing.

he hoists you onto his hips, carrying you over to the queen sized bed, and placing you down as if it would break.

“is this okay?” he asks atop you, hand tracing your jawline, dropping at your chin and gently redirecting your face to his. you nod, and he tsks, “don’t go quite on my now sweetheart, need to hear your voice.”

you could cry, all you need is to have his touch on you and you would be fine. “please.”

that wasn’t good enough for him, you can see it on his face. “please what? what is it that you want baby?”

you don’t know what you want, anything. you just want him. “please touch me finnick.” your eyes flutter up to his and he thinks this is the purest picture of eroticism. he placed a soft kiss on to your lips until moving down the straps of your dress to kiss along your shoulders.

you take it upon yourself to disregard the dress from your body. besides the fact you couldn’t stand to be in it any longer, having already done your interview in it, you needed his skin on yours.

he kisses down your body, stopping once he reaches your black panties, matching your dress that is now long gone.

he thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful, your looking down at him. he can see the rise and fall of your chest- your hardened nipples through your bra.

with no warning he pulls the fabric of your underwear aside, placing one kiss on the inside of your thigh, pulling your legs apart, its all so agonizingly slow.

finnick cages himself into you, your legs placed over his shoulders. and finally, his lips and tongue are blissfully on you. his hands hold your hips as you almost squirm away from his touch.

he’s not in a rush, he’s slow, precise, and calculated with what he’s doing. he’s stops his licking to suck onto your swollen clit and looks up at you. your lips puffy, head thrown back, and your gripping the sheets.

he has to resist his urge to pull away from his found heaven between your legs to attack your exposed neck, it’s tempting but he returns to flattening his tongue and striping into your hole.

you’re in a daze, you want to see him, but it all feels too good. “i need you inside of me.” it’s almost a sob, more like a beg.

and he tries not to move too hurriedly, pressing a kiss to your bundle of nerves one more before, rising up. his shirt is over his head and his pants are unbuckled and left to lay around the room in seconds.

you can almost see all of his length through his tented boxers, it’s frightening, exciting, and you’re eager.

his lips are on your neck, your back is arching off of the bed and all you can focus are his arms flexing as he holds himself up above you. “you’re my prize y/n.” one of his hands are playing with the seashell necklace you’ve forgotten to take off.

then his lips move onto yours, you can taste yourself through the kiss, it’s sickening how much you’re enjoying this all. “the sweetest fucking prize. you’re all that i want.” he speaks through kisses, your heart is fluttering- chest warm.

it must be too good to be true, you have the capitols darling above you, telling you how badly he needs you, not just in this moment- but in every other fleeting moment of his life he’s needed you.

you see the stain of pre-cum on his boxers, and it almost makes you feel prideful. prideful that with the very little you’d done to him- it’s driven him to this point. and shortly his boxers are coming off, and he’s looking into your eyes.

he almost gets lost in your eyes, “the most beautiful thing.” his hand is moving up your neck, stopping at the side of it. you blush and look away- his stare is almost undressing you more. if that was possibly, your dress and panties were already out of sight.

he redirects your face again, “look at me.” he’s lining himself up with you, “i want you to look at me when i show you how much you make me feel.” words weren’t his strong suit, but, show you is exactly what he did.

he looks into your eyes for any hint of doubt before he’s intruding you, he sighs out-nearly and you could’ve sworn you saw stars at that beautiful noise alone.

you don’t think you’ll last long and he doesn’t think he will either, you were so tight and he had been hard for so long. he was trying to get the most out of it, not race to the finish line.

once you’ve found a comfortable pace, his hand applies pressure to the side of your neck- now you were certainly seeing stars.

this makes everything feel all the more intense, the way his lustful eyes have not left yours, the way he’s rolling his hips into you, the sounds echoing from your room, his sinful praises.

your so very stimulated, wrapped up in the pleasure of it all your head turns into the pillow as you moan out his name. “fuck, do as you’re told, y/n.” and you do, like putty under his hold you turn to face him again.

“feels’ so good finnick. i want you inside of me” you cry out, and maybe it’s the way you’re moaning his name, maybe it’s the way he’s knowing how good he makes you feel, but he can’t help but think about how it should only ever be him who has you in this position.

all he wants to do after this is protect you, to never let you cry unless it’s in his arms, to only let you get to pent up and angry at him, he wants to be the only person who makes your world go round.

he’s close and you are too, he can’t help but kiss you as he feels himself nearing the edge of it all. you’re clenching around him in a way that makes his head spin, “come with me honey.”

his raspy tone, his pressure on your throat, the knot in your stomach- it’s so perfect, so beautiful.

you reach your climax right after he does- repeating his name like a chant.

“i’ve got you.” if you weren’t so enamored by his voice you wouldn’t have heard it.

once finnick has rolled onto his side, he pulls you ontop of him, kissing your shoulders, fingers kneading into the fat of your waist. your sure you’ve left the bed in ruins, but he doesn’t care.

all finnick cares about now is you, he doesn’t want anything to change, but he wants everything to change all at once.

he wants to tell you he loves you, but he doesn’t want to disturb the ride and fall of your chest. he wants to take you away from all the pain and suffering that will come your way, but he doesn’t want to leave this bed with you just yet.

“i’m sorry.” your words are muffled by his chest. he looks down at you, running a hand through your hair. his brows are furrowed, what could an angel like you ever apologize for? “for yelling at you. it’s not your fault, i was scared.”

he’s quiet, and you look up to face his eyes, you’re scared he’s in regret. that he’s trying to escape this moment, but you see the concern in his eyes, “there will never be a moment where i don’t look out for you ever again.” he wants to swear to you that you’ll never feel a second of pain but he can’t promise that.

-

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FEVERS !

finnick x reader series

pre seventieth-hunger games

contains; angst, heartbreak, second perspective, little to no use of ‘y/n’.

the water is anything but a mirror of your stagnant body, the waves are fighting the shore- crashing angrily as if to make a point of the fury climbing through your body.

you’re still, despite the slight water droplets tickling your bare legs. another year, another reaping, a handful of deaths. and with reapings in district four, came finnick, finally returning from the capitol.

it wasn’t hard to go on with your life without him, the most difficult of times being when you’d wake up with things to tell him, not knowing what was going on in his life. remembering how he looked down on you, how he laughed pointedly in your face before treating you like one of his fangirls- pretentiously slamming the door in your face.

but you were fine on your own now, over four long years had passed by in a flash and you’d left him alone- though he was everywhere and nowhere all at once.

you didn’t see him at the lighthouse near the pier, you didn’t hear him lauging when you’d walk to school together, you didn’t smell the sea salt whenever he’d walk into any room, didn’t feel the water spraying over you shivering body when he’d shake his wet hair out of the beach.

none of it mattered, your best friend was gone. you’d unfailingly remember the day finnick had been reaped, he wasn’t too sterling on putting on a mask back then. his eyes blown, his hesitance to step up to that stage. his eyes would’ve found yours in any crowd then. you thought you’d gone through the worst of it all losing him- oh, how you thought it was all over.

it was a dark morning in district four, you were simply just impending your attendance at the reaping to conclude, then return back to your bed, easier said than done.

your body distastefully pulled itself from the sand as the sun creeped up on the shoreline, signaling the end of your escape.

your mind was elsewhere- zoning out into your own world of issues until that familiar hue of lilacs from the hydrangea bush near your home caught your eye.

the trek from the beach was short, and your home was small. despite the fact that district four was amongst the wealthiest districts, the balance came in practical ways; enough food to go round, electricity and power for each family, but still treacherous working conditions.

finnick is standing behind the placemats of where the tributes will stand minutes from now, he can spot you in any crowd- but it scares him in a way. why can he only see you? despite the sea of girls your age surrounding you he can only see you.

the video plays, the same video that plays every year before finnick gets to get a good look at his tributes. it’s snow, he talks of war, of despair- as if the districts are a stranger to it.

usually he zones out, usually he doesn’t mind the names called. but something feels wrong about this day in particular. something that makes him easily strartled, like he should run.

you keep your eyes to your shoes, to the sand that covers the tips of them- but you can still feel his eyes, they’re burning you. not quite like the sun that scorches your eyes, but a burn you couldn’t hide from.

“ladies first!” your escorts voice is too peppy, it scratches your ears wrong. you just want to go home, more than usual. you want to close in on yourself.

the crinkling of the unfolding paper echoes through the microphone, a smile on the escorts painted lips, you almost feel like your dreaming.

you and finnicks minds are brought back to reality when your name is called. finnicks mind must have made it up, maybe hes been plagued with sun poisoning. his excuse is cut short as the girls around you form a gaping path from you to the stage, he knows you want to disappear, a part of him does too. your mother lets out a wail, but you can’t look at her- only as the peace keepers who lead you with hands on your back your back to the stage.

finnicks guilt consumes him wholly, it was surely his fault. something he did, something he said- he got your name into that bowl far too many times then it needed to be. he sees your face, he sees your tense shoulders as you walk your way up the stairs, onto the placemat on the stage. he knows you feel closed in at the stares, at the eyes of everyone- the cameras.

this is sickening, how well he can read you after all these years. how he has instantly promised to any god that was listening that he would not sleep until you made it out, that he would not quit the pleasure and charms of the capitolites until they gave you all of the materials you needed.

sickening, how your hair had waves it in- and he instantly knew it was from you taking your hair out of braids after they’d gotten wet from the saltwater. how you were slowly blinking- your dead give away at calming yourself down.

he cursed the crowd, he cursed snow, he cursed himself. how has nobody volunteered? how could snow try and hurt you after he’s spent so long shielding you from this exact moment? how could he let himself sit here and do nothing?

“and now, the boys!” the escorts voice makes finnick sick now, he swears he can feel blood dripping down his ears. the same voice that called out yours- that tried to take you to your death. “lux dagon!”

you’ve heard of him before, he’s a year older than you. he’s said to be charming, smart, likeable. all of your premonitions are proven to be true when he squares his shoulders off, a captivating smile flooding his mouth. unlike you, he doesn’t hesitate to stride up to the stage- he was a career child.

he’d waited his whole life for this moment, he was smarter, stronger, taller, and faster than you. his eyebrows were thick and dark, just like his round eyes. olive skin, and dark hair that fringed down to his forehead.

you were sure you were dead this moment, you were dead and you couldn’t even put up a fight. it was slightly enthralling, how your last bit of hope for survival was crushed at one mere name.

luxs smile reappears when he turns to you, the color was drained for your face- mouth slightly agape. he winks incredulously as he sticks his hand out to shake yours. you take it, well aware of the fact that your hand is very-likely soaked in sweat.

you can’t keep eye contact with him, all you can see is your mother being held back by peacekeepers- her face would be etched into your mind for some time. her only child, only family- you felt saddest for her most of all. because you knew this would be the last she saw of you before you’d be killed on television- you didn’t want to think about how helpless she’d feel, how she’d never quite be the same.

you try not to pay any mind to finnick as you make your way to the train car. infact, you don’t pay mind to anyone.

but nevertheless, finnick is hot on your tail- leaving no room for personal space. you’re sure it will be a long train ride, silent on your part.

the walls are dark grey, lined with gold. light fixtures decorate every surface. a plethora of food and drinks await you, none of it is fish nor vegetables. you don’t know what it is, but your stomach can’t handle the sight of it.

you sit on a red couch, gold hugs the ends of the seat. lux joins, taking the spot next to you. you don’t cause a stir when finnick sits in front of you, and certainly not when mags sits diagonal.

it almost feels like a sick joke to finnick, the idea that you’re infront of him after all these years, and not saying a word. you’re alive but you’re about to face issues larger than you’re ready for. it feels like he might never escape, like he may never rid himself of being tormented.

a voice tears him from his thoughts, “so, what can i do to win?” lux asks eagerly, his hands are clasped and his elbows are on his knees- eyeing finnick and mags.

finnick is solely not in a fit state to humor his excitement. looking to his lap with a sigh then pinching the bridge of his nose. “that’s a broad question.”

lux can’t sense the bitterness in his words, it almost seemed unprofessional of finnick. your district-mate mutters soemthing about how he’s already well equipped to kill, “water? what if it’s dry land?”

mags gets up from her seat, coughing- off to the bathroom. lux then splays his hands on his jean clad knees, and pushes himself up, irritated at the lack of response.

you can’t help but agree, if you’d really cared that much- if you were truly that desperate to win, and had been asking for advice to no avail, you’d be indignant as well.

one out of sight, finnick looks straight at you. your back is leaning into the cushion of the couch, hands fiddling. he wants to know where you are right now- that sinking dazed look is in your eyes, all he wants is to throw the rope and get you out of your head. “they love him already.”

you snap your head at his words, he doesn’t say your name- but it’s the first time you’ve heard his voice speak to yours in years. his words are covering the sweetness in his voice. you take this chance to study his face, a lot has changed- you just wished it wasn’t in these circumstances that you’d see your best friend again.

he sighs, “y/n.” finnicks eyes are pleading with yours now, “focus, if you can’t beat him, join him. we can’t have him being district fours favorite.”

your eyebrows furrow, you want to scream at him, it doesn’t feel right simply speaking to him- it felt too soon, but so long. “i’m sorry.” you let out a sigh, “can you speak in simpler terms, the poverty back home has given me brain rot- mr odair.” the ridicule in your tone has him seething, knuckles white as he grips the chair.

you’d never been one to simply forgive, you always held grudges, but never with him- it never should’ve been that way. finnick didn’t know what he expected when he thought he could simply prance into your life once more and beg for you to do as he says. he should’ve known you’d come up with a million reasons as to why he thinks he’s better than you, he knew you’d tricked yourself into thinking that he was on some sort of capitol high horse after winning.

but it’s what you’d do, what you’d always done. as if you were in a constant state of survival- this only scared him. finnick knew he’d make you a winner, no matter what it would take. he had nothing left to give to the capitol, his dignity, his body, his mind, but he swore he’d get you out of this- though he also knew the victors life would tear you to shreds.

you didn’t want to treat him this way, it was only the way he looked at you like he was high and mighty. so egotistical, nothing like the boy you once knew. as if his mind was superior to yours, like he was too snotty to be in your presence.

he sits up in his chair, running a hand through his hair before leaning close to you. “i’m just trying to help you.”

you knew this, yet you couldn’t take it. his advice burned your ears, it made you feel small. to have him try to teach you, after all that’s happened.

after a few beats of your eyes latching onto the ground- neglecting eye contact as he desperately tried to gauge your interest, he stood up, almost disappointedly. you supposed this was him turning in for the night.

the sceneries whizzed past you in the window, greens and brows in a haze. you just wanted to be back home, on the beach- far far away from the capitol. though like many things, it seemed too good to be true.

you couldn’t help but think about finnick, how all you needed was him right now- his laugh, the way he’d always know what to say. but you didn’t recognize him, the times you’d forget you weren’t friends, or even civil haunted you.

how did either of you forgive yourselves for letting things become this way, to have gone from a connection you were born to have built, to being unable to speak.

your mind blames him, blamed the fact that he’d changed and forgot to tell you, the fact that he’d slammed the door in your face. but your conscious thoughts blamed yourself, for not understanding what he’d gone through, for not being more patient.

and so you’d close your eyes, thinking of the times finnick had helped your mom cook fish- insisting to her that it’s impossible to burn fish. he wore a sweet smile then, his hair was shorter- he looked more comfortable in his own skin. you wondered when that had all changed, when things had been turned this way.

ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

a/n: this was just a preface! not an actual chapter. i actually hate this with my whole heart but i needed to get this out of the way so the story would make sense. trust they’ll work it out !!

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