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targaryenluvs · 4 months

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OH BABY!

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader, young!naive!tribute reader

summary: finnick found you to be as cute as ever. but you aren’t exactly the smartest in the room according to him. luckily, finnicks more than happy to help his sweet baby succeed, and he will not let you forget him.

warnings: AGE GAP (18 - 23) smut, FILTH THIS MAN IS DOWNBAD, possessive, corruption, pervy finnick, violent thoughts/intrusive, exhibitionist? degradation, oral (m & f), p in v, overstimulation, praise, mirror kink? spanking 👀 rough sex? tummy bulge, my first time writing smut be kind 😭

word count: 5k - this is literally the longest fic ive written.

a/n: this is what happens at 6am and i can’t sleep, thoughts are thunk - massive thank you to @motelofmermaids and @lust4lore for their help with reading and writing!!!

taglist: @coolchick333 @doublesideeye

“and the female tribute for district four, y/n l/n.” your eye involuntarily twitched at your name being called. the people around you, distanced themselves from you as a path was carved to your own hell.

as you walked to the platform you kept your head down. you were actually hopeful that you’d get through this reaping, your last and then never see the inside of the arena. but of course fate was against you. as you stood in front of the people you couldn’t help the silent tears that fled down your face.

your mothers face was tired and drained, she had a feeling you’d get picked. mothers intuition? your father was pissed, his little girl, his sweetheart, being thrown into an arena to die? and worst of all, there wasn’t anything he could do.

you felt alone, as if no one could help you. and as you said goodbye to the life you knew, you could only pray for safety, and a quick death.

as you were escorted to the train you fiddled with your sweater sleeves. pulling them down, rolling them up, just to focus your mind on something. it was chilly, most likely the air conditioning on the train and sometimes you had to hold down your skirt.

finnick couldn’t take his eyes of you once he saw you on the train. you looked so tiny in the chair and he couldn’t help but smile.

he practically had you all to himself.

“y/n?” your head shot up at your name being called and you were met with finnick odair in all his glory. “finnick? finnick odair?” even calling his name you sounded so unsure, so he smiled and nodded.

“i’m your mentor, and i promise to try my best to get you to win.” he sat down in front of you, spreading his legs and you felt your face warm up. he found you adorable, with a cute white sweater and a short black skirt. you had your hair down with the front parts tied up with a bow. his own personal present.

your shy demeanour reminded him of your young age, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. you were looking everywhere but at him and he loved it.

“do… do you think i can win?” god no. the tributes would eat you up alive, but he’d try his best. “i do.” with just two words of encouragement, you smiled at him for the first time.

finnick wanted you to smile at him forever.

“are you hungry?” the rumbling of your stomach answered his question, as you ducked your head in your hands in embarrassment.

he moved your hands aside, tilting your chin up, "it's okay to be hungry sweetheart, come on." he held his hand out for you and he laughed at your hesitance. "i don't bite, not unless you want me to.” the last part of his sentence came out hushed and you averted your eyesight from him.

there were so many foods laid out before you, and it wasn’t as if you were poor, but god, it all looked nice. the eclairs took your attention away as you reached for one, your finger sweeping cream off the top before placing it in your mouth. it was sickeningly sugary but you had a sweet tooth, you retracted your finger with a pop! and you somehow didn’t hear finnicks groan.

how on earth were you not realising how dirty it seemed? and it was there finnick realised how pure you were, “its so good,” you flashed him a toothy grin, “you'll have some won't you finnick?" you offered it up to him with two hands and how could he resist? the two of you spent the rest of your time on the train eating and talking, finnick utilising his time to get to know you.

you’d spent a day getting settled and were now to get ready for your interview.

after being prepped and readied, you were shuffled into your dressing room where analise, damian and sarah awaited. a range of compliments were thrown your way.

“oh isn’t she adorable?”

“i could pinch her cheeks forever!”

“you are precious!”

they were so nice to you and you loved it, but you barely ever learned how to take compliments so you ended up just nodding your head. “she is gorgeous,” you snapped your head up to the doorway and there stood your mentor, in all his glory. his compliment felt heavier than the rest, like he truly meant it, and you looked down at your hands as you fought off the blush threatening to rise on your cheeks.

in an hour you’d been through a whirlwind of makeup, dresses and jewels. orange, blue, black and all, you loved each one but for some reason after the four of them discussed you’d always be taken out of it.

it wasn’t until you were placed in an off the shoulder, floor length, white dress that you remained in it. and as you looked in the mirror you couldn’t help but stare. your hair was pinned up again, and small flowers were placed throughout. you felt like a princess and finnick agreed. you hadn’t even noticed that your stylists were gone until you heard the door shut.

it was just you and finnick.

“you look incredible.” finnick whispered, he was behind you now. his hand had a mind of its own as it placed a stray hair behind your ear. you turned your head his way, “really?” your voice was so soft and doused in disbelief. if he wasn’t next to you he wouldn’t have heard you. his hand trailed along your neck as he placed your hair behind, he nodded. “i have something for you.”

he pulled out a small seashell, and your eyes lit up, “oh finnick.” you sighed as he placed it in your hands. “it reminded me of you, small, gorgeous.” you looked up at him with doe eyes and he felt like grabbing you and taking you away.

you were breathtaking and you looked at him as if he was god.

“thank you finn, do you mind maybe putting it in my hair?” he took the trinket and placed it above your ear, entangling in with your hair. your heels were on but untied so finnick got onto his knees before patting his knee. he grabbed the straps before tieing them. his fingertips worked quickly and his face was concentrated. he was done and he looked up at you before turning you to the mirror.

finnicks hands were on your shoulder as he leaned in to whisper, “all done, you look perfect sweetheart.” you turned before reaching up on your tiptoes, “thank you finnick!” you kissed him on his nose before turning back and finnick grinned, “aren’t you cute?” he stood behind you, attached like a shadow. your skin felt soft underneath his fingertips and he couldn’t help but wander. down your arms, to your waist, he could feel you tensing up underneath him and he could feel his face trying to fight off his smirk.

“finnick?” you breathed out, “what’re you doing?” your voice was small, and unsure. “tell me to stop.” you should. you should tell him to stop. but all you could think about was finnicks hands and how good they felt.

“it’s time!” damian shouted out as you peeled away from finnick to open the door. damian was all too happy to see you as he clapped his hands together. “ah, my special girl you are truly an angel.” finnick knew that. finnick has already said that. finnick had you in his arms and oh so close and this idiot took you away. his sweet girl.

finnick was wondering where his trident was so that he could impale him through the stomach.

“come on y/n.” he ushered you out the door but you managed to slip another look at finnick and all you saw was pure rage.

the interview went well, in your eyes at least.

caesar was as upbeat as usual and it did mostly centre around your dress and looks but you felt you could try your best to use it to your advantage.

the audience was enamoured and you felt you did your best. “and y/n, tell us, what’s your secret strategy for the games? any tricks up your sleeve?” you patted his knee before pointing at him jokingly, “well caesar, it wouldn’t be a secret if i divulged now would it?” everyone loved your answer and caesar doubled over, “aren’t you cheeky! isn’t our diamond here so playful? but a sweetheart nonetheless!” the crowd agreed loudly.

“now, since you came out i think we’ve all been wondering where that seashell came from. it doesn’t exactly match the theme of your outfit.” you could hear the murmurs from the crowd agreeing with his words.

“am i right in suspecting a certain blonde mentor of yours?” you pursed your lips and a giggle began to form as caesar pumped his fist in the air, “i think we got it! can we expect the two of you together once you win?” you’d never even had a boyfriend and here you were being put together with the finnick odair, you were sure everyone could tell how giddy you were.

you felt as if you had a million eyes on you, your whole body was heating up as you buried your head in your hands. “ah we caught her out! someone’s got a crush! but then again it’s finnick odair so don’t we all?” a bunch of cheers erupted as you beamed.

“well it was a wonderful to meet you, truly! our diamond here, y/n l/n!” screams and shouts directed your way came in full force as you waved at caesar and blew kisses to all. as you walked back you bumped into someone.

“y/n right?” the boy from three, theo.

you nodded and stuck your hand out, “nice to meet you!” he looked down at your hand and back up at you before laughing, “very formal, i like it. i’m theo, your dress is nice but i think the girl wearing it is breathtaking.” you giggled before tucking your hair behind your ear.

finnick stood with the other mentors and held himself back from shoving haymitch out the way to get him to stop rambling on. his grip on his glass was solid, so it wasn’t a surprise when it shattered. “oh my!” effie yelled out as finnick apologised before someone came to clean it up. he stepped around the person before excusing himself to get to you.

you were laughing, hard. what in panem was so funny?

you were wiping tears away from your eyes as finnick joined the two of you, his hand on your back as theo nodded at him, “finnick.” he hated him. why the hell did theo speak as if he knew him personally? his smug face was unbelievably irritating. “finnick! how’d i do?” and the second you spoke he felt the anger dissipate, he adored the way you waited for his response as if it held all the answers.

“you did well.” finnicks answer felt snippy and made you feel as if you’d done something wrong. “we should get going.” he directed you away from the boy as you shouted out, “i’ll see you around!”

the entire elevator ride was, to put it lightly, awkward. it left you feeling confined in what little space you and finnick had. “finn? are you okay?” you placed your hand on his arm and stood in-front of him. you were hoping he’d explain what was wrong but what you didn’t expect was to be pushed against the side of the elevator and finnick kissing you. his hand was on your waist again and he shuffled your dress up, slithering underneath.

you moaned in his mouth, his hands playing and gripping at your ass. in reaction, your fingers thread through his hair and your grip tightened, “finn- not here.” the elevator was glass and you were scared of people seeing. finnick found it hard to care, drunk off your perfume. in a panic, you pulled away from him, your hands cradling his face to make him listen. “i’ve… never,” the whisper hung over the both of you, the tension in the air thick and hot.

instead of being met with judgment, he murmured, “i’ll make it good for you, i promise.” finnick had finally gotten a taste, and he could only crave more. his lips met your neck, his warm tongue painting wet desire into your skin. it was almost too much for little old you, letting out quiet whimpers as he explored you. his sleeves were rolled and you needed to ground yourself, your nails dug into his veiny arms. “finn-” you protested but he could tell you didn’t want to. just a little longer and he could get you to give in. “just let me feel you.”

the elevator stopping brought the two of you back as you fixed your dress and finnick fixed his own hair, running his hands through it. he directed you out of the elevator and nodded in acknowledgment to the people entering. as you walked onto your floor you were met with servants, stylists and others. it seems damian and analise had taken it upon themselves to invite some friends and you were eager to meet them.

whereas finnick wanted to rip your dress off and take you till the morning.

the same dainty hands which were running all over him were shaking others and waving as you all sat down to eat. as everyone feasted away you couldn’t help but play with your own meal. you were flushed and all you wanted was to kiss finnick again. he was sitting next to you and wasn’t hungry for food, he wanted to eat something else.

your dress didn’t hide much of your chest and when you reclined in your seat, crossing your arms and pushing up your breasts?

finnick needed to see more.

the clattering of his fork on the floor drew the attention of some, but they went back to their conversations and bets. “i’ll get it for you.” you pushed back your seat and got down to your knees, flicking up the tables sheet and searched around for it before hitting cold metal. you reached your hand out with the fork to finnick. his cock was throbbing at the image of you on the floor, chest on display and a sweet smile on your face. he bent down and grinned, “you look good on your knees sweetheart.”

his words went straight down between your legs and your mouth fell open at his words.

such vulgar words from such a beautiful man.

his hand came down to close your jaw. you felt, weird. as you sat back on your chair you felt warm? but a good warm? it was tantalising. you wondered if it was normal.

finnick would tell you right?

“finnick.” his head turned your way, “what is it y/n?” you leaned closer and so did he, your hands cupped around his ear, “i feel weird.” his eyebrows shot up as a sign of interest, “oh? what’s wrong honey? where do you feel weird?” you gulped, your throat felt dry and for some reason it felt dirty to talk about.

your eyes drifted downwards and as you looked up finnicks eyes seemed darker. “here?” his touch was soft on your thigh underneath the table as you gasped.

“everything all right dear?” sarah questioned as you nodded. it felt so good, his touch. but it wasn’t exactly where needed, his hand trailed closer and higher, until it was gone. your head snapped up at him as he smirked at you, mocking you.

for the rest of the night he didn’t even pay attention to you. and you had no clue why.

you couldn’t sleep after the day you had and all your mind was thinking of was finnick. finnicks hands, his arms, his mouth, his words.

“i don’t bite, unless you want me to.”

“yes, here.”

“i’ll make it so good for you.”

“just let me feel you.”

“you look good on your knees sweetheart.”

your room was too quiet, making it unchallenging for your thoughts to run wild at the anticipation of finnick odair. you couldn’t bear it, so you left to the busiest room you could think of.

your leg was shaking up and down and your mind was pacing whilst your body couldn’t. the butterflies were practically knocking around in your stomach and you hoped perhaps finnick could help. he’d help you right? but he didn’t before. maybe he was just tired? you were so desperate for help and answers that you’d forgone knocking and walked right in.

only to be met with an extremely wet finnick odair.

by your luck your eyes were probably poking out of your head at the sight of him, you couldn’t help but stare. it was your first time being in the same room as a man so, naked? for the lack of a better word, he still had a very short towel wrapped around his bottom half. was it small? or did he make it look small?

“see something you like sweetie?” god his voice was so saccharine, how the hell did his voice work you up? “i- i wanted to t-talk.” and you were stuttering, great! he walked closer to you and you stepped back, all the way into his wall. “yeah? does my pretty girl wanna talk?” you nodded along dumbly as your breath quickened. “words sweetie, use your words.” you swallowed, “yes.”

his thumb caressed your cheek before brushing along your lips, “you sure you just want to talk?” and there they were, the butterflies. you shook your head, “no? what do you want?” you played with your night dress, “you?” it was a soft murmur and finnick wanted you to beg. he’d been pining after you since the second he saw you, it’s only fair right?

“where do you want me?” his words were hot in your ear, his body was wet and your white night dress was suddenly see through. his hand rested on your ass, “here?” you shook your head, “no?” his thumb brushed over your nipple as your nails pressed into his neck, pulling him into yours. your breath was heavy and he was unrelenting.

his hand moved from your ass to cup your front as you gasped, “here?” you nodding along dumbly, “please finnick, i’ve been wanting you for the whole day, i’ll be good for you i promise.” your words were music to his ears, “yeah? you’re gonna be good f’me?”

“yes, yes, yes.” you whined as you wrapped your arms around his neck. standing on your tiptoes as you bit your lip. “you gonna let me use you yeah? do whatever i want?” you were practically jumping up and down at this point, your tits with you. your straps were pushed down as your dress fell down to the floor. his cock was throbbing at the sight of you, he’d been waiting for this.

“then on your knees honey.” you were quick to obey as he pushed you down to the cold floor, his towel quickly ripped off, courtesy of you.

it was your first time doing anything sexual so any cock was bound to be big in your eyes. finnick loved the sight of you on your knees, innocent as ever. fully nude, hands slotted nicely between your thighs. he wanted to ruin you. he ran his hand along his dick, pumping it before resting the tip on your lips.

as if you were on auto-control, your lips parted to let him through. a salty taste flooded through your mouth as he cooed down at you.

“you’re doing so well for me.”

“pretty baby on her knees, who knew you’d be such a slut?”

your eyes flickered up at him as you moved your head forwards on your own accord. “fuck.” he groaned as you replaced his hands with yours.

he wanted to go easy on you.

but kitten licks at the tip and soft kisses weren’t doing it for him. you opened your mouth again, gaining confidence and feeding off of finnicks praises. his large hand placed on the back of your head, fingers spread out as he thrusted down your throat.

the sounds that filled his room were lewd. squelches and groans as you tried your best to keep going. your cheeks hollowed out as finnick guided you, “relax your throat, try breathe through your nose. if it’s too much just tap my thigh sweetie.”

you retracted, catching your breath as you gazed up at him whilst simultaneously blinking away the tears in your eyes but a few fell free. he couldn’t help but moan. your messy mouth mixed with your saliva and his pre-cum. “you think theo’s this big? you think he could make you choke on his dick?” you shook your head immediately.

his member felt cold without the warmth of your mouth, but he was feeling nice so he let you take a break. “too big for you sweetie?” you shook your head furiously, “naw is my baby tough?” you giggled as you wrapped your lips around him again, your tongue flat against the underside of his dick as he eased himself in. “ah- fuck.”

but he can only hold out for so long as he began to fasten his pace, chasing his high. your fingers dug into his thighs right under his ass, for some reason you seemed to have something to prove as you took him all the way. your moans egged him on as his hips thrust forwards, “so good f’me, my s-sweet girl.” his praises fueled you on as your nose met his naval. salty tears fell down your cheeks and finnick was in his right mind to lick them all up.

god you were better than he’d imagined. and trust him, he’d imagined a lot.

“swallow for me yeah? be a good girl and open wide.” thick cum coated your tongue as you gladly accepted. finnick proudly gazed upon your painted face. watery eyes, sticky face. all for him. you gulped it down before wiping off the remaining waste on your face, eyeing finnick up before licking it off your fingers.

“what happened to the diamond? only a whore for me right?” your fingers were wet as you pulled them out. “uh-huh.” your agreed as he pulled you up. “do you even know what that means?” he teased as you puckered your lips before shaking your head. “thought so, you wanna be good for me?” you nodded, “on the bed baby.”

you sat down on the bed as you waited for finnick to join you. he situated himself between your legs, running his hands along them. “lean back for me. you took me so well, you want me to make you feel good too?” your eyes widened at the idea, “yes please finn.” his hands reached up and rested under your breasts, “i don’t know if you’ve earned it honey.” your lips twisted into a slight frown, your waterline glazing over.

“i was! i did what you asked finn, please.”

he palmed your breast, massaging it softly as you threw your head back, “please. please keep going.” your begging was more than enough for him, his baby asked so nicely no?

“yeah? you like me playing with you?” incoherent babbles fell from your lips as finnicks mouth kissed your breast. his hand trailed down to feel you, and he was met with warm wetness. the moan you let out was ungodly, “finnick please! oh god it feels so- so good.” he couldn’t help admire you, eyes screwed shut, hands clutching the pristine white sheets.

“oh baby, can you be quiet for me? quiet for finn?” a string of ‘uh-huhs’ came from your mouth as finnick slid a finger into you, a tight fit. “oh my god!” you yelped before slamming your hand over your mouth. he was knuckle deep as he worked his finger in before curling it, then another, then another. his free hand was pushing your hips down into the mattress as your hips lifted upwards with every move he made.

“finnick, finnick. you feel so good.” you cried out as he retracted his fingers before curling them upwards. he knew exactly what to do, where to be, what to say. his name fell from your lips like a prayer and your nails raked down his back as he grunted.

now, finnicks fingers were one thing, but his mouth?

his tongue pressed against your clit and you swear you saw god, finnick was probably the god. his tongue flicked over your clit as his fingers entered your cunt again, the pressure in your stomach was building so high you were afraid of the fall.

a wave of pleasure fell over you as finnick talked you through it, “that’s it baby, let go.” he hovered over you as his fingers worked your cunt. your nails had bloodied his back, scratched raw. as you moved your fingers finnick hissed into your ear. “m’ sorry, m’ so so sorry.” your head was spinning and you wanted to rest, but apparently finnick had other ideas as he lowered himself to your core. your mind was hazy as your hand clutched the pillow your head laid on, the other twisted in his hair.

“what’re you doing?” finnicks green eyes pierced through you as he raised his head from in between your thighs. featherlight kisses trailed upwards to your pussy as your thighs twitched and closed around his head, still sensitive as ever. “just want a taste, clean you up.” he mumbled as he tongue breached your entrance and you were back where you were before.

this man was driven youd give him that.

“finn s’ too much, please.” your words were slurred as he delved inside. he couldn’t find it in himself to let up, you were so sweet, he just wanted a taste. so he kept going, his tongue, his hands, his words. if there was one thing you knew about finnick it was that he could talk anyone into anything. so you found yourself squirming underneath his strong arms, forearm pinning you down to the bed as he made your back arch and your toes curl.

“sweet baby, so sweet.” all attempts of getting away, only caused him to get annoyed with you, can’t you just lay down and let him ruin you? at this point it was for his pleasure rather than yours. your thighs were practically squeezing his head and neck but he kept going. you didn’t know where to put your hands, pulling his hair was no good. your hand somehow ended up on your clit, moving in a circular motion as the other palmed your breast.

each time he made you come you rested your head, energy depleted. but again he ended up between your legs and pathetic pleas from you did nothing to make him stop.

“wanna make you feel good.”

“just one more, you can take it sweetheart.”

when your fourth rolled around you were so far gone. “pretty baby, not a single thought up there huh?” you couldn’t even bring yourself to respond, and he didn’t expect you to. he brushed away the stray hairs from your face and kissed you passionately. “you did so well f’me honey. made me proud, you got one more in you for me?” it wasn’t a question, his dick was painfully hard and he only knew of one solution.

you tiredly shook your head, “no more finny.” he grinned, “no? you don’t want my cock?” your breath hitched at his words and you knew you were fucked. “mhm. want it.” you were reduced to one to two words in a sentence.

“yeah you do. on your knees baby.” you tiredly rolled over, situating yourself on your knees and the palms of your hands as finnick kneaded your ass. his hands grazed over the skin before-

smack!

“think you should be able to see yourself baby.” his hand yanked at your hair as you found your reflection glaring back at you. “so pretty, aren’t you?” finnick knew you were horrible at accepting compliments and he was more than happy to use it against you.

smack!

you’d taken too long to answer, but based on finnicks smug expression you could tell he was hoping for it. “you have to answer baby.” finnicks arm came across your waist, pulling you up, flush with his chest as his hands pawed at your chest.

“you wanna be my baby yeah?” you could only manage moans and finnick was not happy. he threw you forwards as you caught yourself with your hands infront of you.

smack!

“fucked you so good you can’t even talk.” he taunted you as he dragged his cock in between your drenched folds. finnicks groans were deep, and so hot. “you know how long i wanted to fuck you baby? in that short skirt on the train? when you licked up that cream? my girls dirty huh?” you didn’t respond and it only fuelled his fire, he’d wanted you for so long and now you had the audacity to ignore him?

he thrusted into you without warning and you screamed out. “want to act like a slut? i’ll treat you like one. fuck!” your walls were squeezing down on him, sucking him in and he was more than happy to oblige. his hips snapped against your ass as you gripped onto the sheets for dear life. his grip on your hips bruised, leaving a fiery impression in their wake. finnick had stamina for days, he was strong and built. you were small and fragile, finnick was glad to be the one to break you in.

he pulled you up to him again as he kissed you frantically, capturing your bottom lip in between his teeth. he was relentless in his pursuit for his high, he marked up any place he could as he continued to drive into you with determination.

“bet you dreamed of this, of me.” his hand gripped your throat, his eyes bore into your own, finnick was inescapable. every touch, every thrust, all him. you were enveloped in his being and he worshipped yours. finnick continued to pound into you harshly, cock gliding easily against your inner walls. he was deep inside but he wanted to be deeper. “yes! yes! harder!” you cried out.

his hand pressed down onto your stomach, “feel that?” his breath was prominent by your ear, “oh god!” you exclaimed, it felt as if you were filled to the brim as he bottomed out in you. thick, hot cum released into you as his and your moans were raising in pitch and his hips began to stutter.

the room was filled with the sound of slapping skin, the promise of silence forgotten. “let go baby, you’re close. let go.” the two of you had eachother and it was more than enough. his groans were deep and animalistic as he spilled himself inside you. your hand reached behind you to caress his neck. thank yous spilled out from you, your whole being was ignited, you never knew you could feel so good.

the two of you lied together, entangled in sheets and a mess of limbs. you couldn’t tell where finnick odair began and y/n l/n started. all you knew was that he was yours, and you were his.

you’d fallen asleep a bit ago, your chest rising and falling steadily. finnicks arm curled around you as you rested on his chest. from the moonlight spilling into his room he could view the bruises tattering your smooth skin. as he traced over them he couldn’t help but grin, he could imagine you limping in the arena.

you sure as hell weren’t forgetting him anytime soon.

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6K notes · View notes

bruisedboys · 5 months

Note

jealous finnick?

jealous finnick will be the death of me!!!!!!

finnick odair x fem!reader

Breakfast in District 13 is an unusual affair. Nothing like you’re used to, being from District 4. It’s the same every morning — boring grey oatmeal with either honey or berries, depending on the day. It’s only as you take your seat next to Finnick that you realise you’ve forgotten the very crucial toppings.

“Oh no, I forgot to get berries,” you bemoan. They’re definitely all gone by now, seeing as they’re in popular demand — the oatmeal served in 13 tastes like cardboard without them.

“Here, have mine,” Gale says from across the table. You open your mouth to protest but he’s already spooning a big heap of berries into your bowl. They bleed red and purple into your otherwise plain oatmeal. “I don’t like ‘em, anyway. Too sour.”

“Oh.” You smile at him, flattered. Gale’s been nothing but kind to you since you arrived in District 13. You haven’t put it down to anything other than friendliness. Though it’s possible you’re too enamoured with the blonde next to you that you’re completely oblivious to other men’s advances. “Thanks, Gale.”

Gales smiles back and shrugs. “No problem, Y/N.”

Next to you and unbeknownst to you, Finnick scowls. He hates that Gale’s so nice to you. Loathes it. He knows it’s because you’re a ray of sunshine who draws even the coldest of people in (believe him, he’s experienced it), but the fact that Gale gave you his berries before Finnick could even offer his makes his blood boil.

Who does he think he is? Everyone knows you’re Finnick’s girl, he’s made it very clear. It’s the whole reason you’re here, after all — Finnick specifically requested you be picked up from home before the Quarter Quell ended, to prevent anything from happening to you.

Breakfast passes without further incident. If you notice Finnick’s sour mood, you don’t mention it. You’re leaving the canteen with everyone else when Finnick grabs your waist and pulls you to the side, into an empty hallway. He peers over your shoulder to make sure Gale’s good and gone, watching the back of his head with a glare that could kill, before turning his attention to you.

“Finnick,” you say, clearly confused at his sudden manhandling. “What’s the matter with you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Finnick says shortly.

“You look mad.”

“I’m not.”

You squint at him. “You’re definitely mad. Why are you—?”

Finnick forgoes restraint and yanks you forward, pressing his mouth to yours before you can say anything else. His chest burns with molten hot jealousy, it climbs up his throat and pours into the kiss, hot and sticky. The heat ebbs though, when you kiss him back just as fervently, replaced by a fuzzy warmth only you can make him feel. It buzzes in his chest and down his arms, flares out his palm as he takes your face into one hot hand.

He pulls back just as suddenly as he’d drawn in. “You know Gale’s flirting with you, right?” He says abruptly, thumb pressed to your cheekbone.

You blink up at him, still dazed from his kissing. “What?” You ask, half laughing. “No, he’s not.”

“He is. He gave you his berries. I was going to give you mine.”

You raise both eyebrows. “He was just being nice to me.”

“Yeah, well, that’s my job.”

Finnick supposes he sounds quite pathetic. He doesn’t really care, not when your eyes go all gooey and you reach up on your tiptoes to push a curl from his forehead.

“Are you jealous?” You ask him softly, tucking his hair behind his ear. Your breath fans over his mouth and your hand lingers at his throat. “You sound jealous.”

Finnick rolls his eyes. “So what if I am? Just— have mine next time, okay?”

You smile at him, pretty as starlight. “Okay. But you don’t have to be jealous, you know? I only want you.”

Woah, Finnick thinks. “I know,” he says, too quick, his voice a notch too high.

You raise your eyebrows at him. “Do you though?” You ask, definitely teasing now. He supposes he got off lucky, you could’ve done much worse finding out he’s so sickeningly jealous over Gale, of all people.

Still, Finnick narrows his eyes at you. “Alright, that’s enough.”

Your answering giggle is smothered as Finnick swoops in to kiss you again.

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if u enjoyed 🤍

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wife-of-all-dilfs · 3 months

Text

what friends do | f. odair

masterlist

summary: you were a simple town girl. finnick odair was the crown jewel of panem. both of you needed an escape and found it at a secluded beach just outside district four. these were three ingredients that created a year-long friendship. but were friends supposed to have… impure thoughts about one another? you weren’t so sure.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: smut, wayyy too much detail, dirty thoughts, friends-to-lovers, mild angst, mostly readers pov, pre-rebellion, HEAVY dirty talk, fingering, unprotected p in v (big no no), multiple orgasms, so much pining, creampie, cock-warming

notes: i’m so sorry this took me so long. life has been up my ass lately and, as y’all know, i’m a slow writer. but thank you sm to everyone who patiently stuck around, i love y’all <3 this was supposed to be a short smut fic but um, apparently not. anyway, this has taken long enough to come out so imma stop rambling. ENJOY <3

word count: 11.7k

Mid-Autumn was closely approaching District Four.

Harvest in the fishing industry was at its peak and the docks were chock-full with boats bringing in their plentiful catches. The town centre was a bustling scene, crowded with people selling produce and trading for food to bring home to their family's kitchen table.

Last year's autumn harvest was the same picture—overflow, hustle, commotion; chaos like this was something you never came to enjoy. So, it was also around this time last year that you had decided to set off in search of the perfect location away from the rest of society. A place where you could be at peace, where you could forget the disastrous world you lived in.

District Four was home to many popular beaches, but the one you discovered was uninhabited, isolated, found after an hour-or-so-long trek through overgrown dirt pathways and a thicket of sea-grape and palm trees. A true paradise away from society. Or so you had thought in the first few weeks.

You weren't too sure when he had started showing up or how he had even discovered the beach.

However, one evening, as you were seated in the sand watching the sunset on the darkening horizon, you noticed a dark figure diving and surfacing in the flat, glimmering water. Their movements were so poised and fluid like the ocean was something they had conquered. You guessed it to be a dolphin or shark because there was no way a human being could move so gracefully.

But then the figure started wading to shore, and the next thing you knew, they were standing on two legs and exiting the water. You knew then that you had guessed wrong. The sun behind him obscured the bronze of his hair and the swirling lukewarm sea that pooled around his pupils. All you could see was the outline of his tall broad figure as he hiked through the sand toward you.

Fear had told you to bolt from the approaching stranger. You were in the middle of nowhere—it was the perfect place to be murdered or kidnapped. But something else, some deep and tangible instinct, also told you to stay.

"Didn't realise I had a captive audience," thestranger spoke, droplets of gleaming water sliding off his body and into the sand as he stood a few feet away.

Taken by surprise, you fumbled over your words trying to form a sentence in response. "I wasn't—I didn't—"

"Easy, honey," he chuckled. The sound was so warm and pleasant that it almost alleviated the slight chill in the air. "Just pulling your leg."

Your mouth formed a small circle. "Right," you said, gaze locked on the golden sand in embarrassment. "I, uh, didn't think anyone else knew about this place."

To be honest, you were pretty sure it was a restricted area. Probably the reason it was so isolated. If a Capitol official found you, the consequences would most likely involve your tongue, a scalpel, and a hell of a lot of pain. All for a wanting a little peace and quiet.

"Neither did I," the man said. "I only come every now and then. Need an escape from the constant buzz back home. Time for myself, you know?"

"Yeah." You smiled, feeling the stranger's words resonate in your soul. "Yeah, I do know."

You thought you saw the corners of his lips curve into a smile, but the shadows on his face were so prominent that you couldn't tell.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked.

Well... if he were going to murder you, he would have done it already. So, you nodded. Sometimes you questioned your survival instincts. Or lack thereof.

He didn't leave much space as he sat beside you. Only an inch or two, meaning you could feel the humidity of body heat and salt water emit from his skin. Even sitting down, he was still quite tall compared to you, but that wasn't what caused your heart to drop into your stomach.

The setting sun, which no longer disguised his face with shadows, now illuminated his entire figure and revealed his identity. His hair was a mess of wet wavy strands, the colour alight like a pale fire beneath the sun's orange radiance. His skin was sun-kissed, no doubt from days he had spent perfecting his swimming abilities. And those dimples... wow.

He was gorgeous. A man sculpted by the gods of beauty, just like everyone in Panem had depicted him to be. Even his sea-green eyes were as striking as everyone said.

Finnick Odair.

The man who was crowned victor of the sixty-fifth Hunger Games at fourteen. Who trapped multiple tributes at once in a net and killed them one by one with his famed trident. A killer.

The man whose reputation in the Capitol was known nationwide. A proud womanizer.

That was what everyone made him out to be.

Only, in the brief interaction you shared with him, he seemed like quite the opposite. He radiated effortless charm and warmth, but not in the arrogant way the media had portrayed him. Then again, did the media ever accurately portray the truth of anything?

It was then that you determined it didn't really matter who people said he was or what he had done. He was a human being—just like you. He deserved a chance.

His pink lips stretched into a knee-weakening smile; you were grateful that you were sitting down.

"I'm Finnick, by the way."

The both of you knew he didn't need to introduce himself. The whole of Panem knew his name and face. Though the fact that he humbly did so anyway made you like him the tiniest bit more.

You returned his smile with one of your own and introduced yourself.

Time passed and the sun had set; the moon had risen, but you both remained sitting side-by-side in the sand. Conversation flowed so naturally between the two of you that it was difficult for you to remember that stopping and getting some air into your lungs was an important factor in keeping a conversation going... as well as keeping you alive.

You told him about yourself as he did himself—some things that were meant to remain secrets, some things that seemed too strange to tell anyone else.

At some point, he had offered to walk you back to your house. The trek was over an hour long but neither of you seemed to care. The time flew by.

When you were standing at your front door and he was gazing up at you from the bottom of the steps, you both promised to meet again the next day. And you did.

As you did the day after that... and the day after that... and the day after that...

**********

As soon as the nights carried that familiar chill and the town congested with markets and fervent buyers, you knew mid-autumn had made its return. This meant most of your evenings were spent at a certain secret beach with a certain District Four victor.

Having already finished his pre-sunset swim, Finnick was sitting beside you, fingers weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath you. A couple of weeks after you had first met, he had shown up one day holding it all rolled up in hand.

"Made this for you to sit on," he had said with a proud smile. "Took nearly all night and earned me a few good finger cramps, but I think it was worth it."

Pinpointing the exact moment your attraction to him first formed was tricky. However, that gesture was one your mind returned to often. That little palm-leaf mat, the time and effort he put into making it, was scored on your heart.

Finnick was very much a gentleman.

He would always offer you a hand when standing up and whenever you walked back through the overgrown seaside forest. Sometimes he picked fruits for you such as sea grapes and mangos or would climb one of the palms and knock down a few coconuts. One thing he always, always did wasmake sure you got home safe; he never let you out of his sight until you were safe inside your front door.

All those gestures, big and small, added up. Soon enough, Finnick Odair had infiltrated your heart and consumed all your thoughts. You saw his sea-green eyes staring back at you whenever you gazed out at the ocean by your house. Felt the ghost of his hands on yours whenever you picked a grape from the kitchen fruit bowl. Heard his voice calling out your name in your most vivid of dreams.

But there was more to it than innocent adoration.

The guilt came when your gaze started lingering on his body a little too long whenever he left the water at the beach. Shimmering droplets would glide down his beautifully tanned skin; his arm muscles would flex as his fingers raked back his dripping wet hair. It wasn't yourfault he was the walking definition of perfection.

Unholy was the closest word to describe the filthy thoughts that had perverted your imagination. What started as endearing daydreams soon became fantasies that had you seeking relief between your thighs late at night. Your thoughts went wild whenever he dropped you off at your house. It took everything in you not to invite him inside and ask him to fuck you senseless against the front door.

All you had to do was ask. You knew he would say yes.

A year is a long time to know someone. A long time for feelings to grow. It also serves as a lot of time for things to happen between two people—things that linger in your mind even months after they have happened.

Like the times he would walk by you and teasingly whisper something provocative in your ear, then disappear for an hour of swimming, leaving you all hot and flustered in the sand. Neither of you would acknowledge it when he returned. Or when conversations took such a flirtatious turn, the tension only dissipated when houses were separating you at the end of the night.

But that's just what friends do, right? They tease and banter?

Maybe.

However, not all things could be chalked up to being just friends.

Another thing about Finnick's eyes was that they were transparent. You saw how helplessly they clung to you the days you stripped to your underwear and joined him in the water. He had this sort of reaction that turned his eyes into a dark violent sea, like you were some divine temptation planted to test the strength of his resolve.

Sometimes he could resist. Other days it was obvious he couldn't help but reach out and touch.

He would try to be subtle about it. Hands holding yours a little longer than necessary when he helped you stand up. Sitting too closely beside you so that your arms and legs would graze against each other. Brushing off pieces of seaweed that would stick to the dip of your waist and then constantly using the same excuse just to feel the heat of your soft skin.

There was one interaction, though, that you fell asleep to the thought of every night. It was a moment when things almost went too far; an interaction friends definitely did not share.

You could remember it clear a day. Hell, you could still feel it clear as day.

It was a hot summer evening. Both you and Finnick were at the beach and swimming in the water since being in the muggy coastal heat for more than five minutes was parallel to roasting in a thousand-degree sauna.

You were about twenty meters offshore, bobbing beside Finnick as he dived to collect various seashells. That boy could hold his breath for an unbelievable amount of time which meant sometimes you spent minutes alone on the surface, waiting, listening to the calm waves lap eerily around you.

This is exactly how people die in shark movies, said an unwarranted voice in your mind.

As usual, a minute went by. Nothing to worry about. Then a minute turned into two and you were starting to become a little concerned. And then it was two and a half minutes and you were now panicking.

"Finnick?!" you called out, hoping he could somehow hear you from the dark depths.

Three minutes had totalled, and you were pretty certain he had drowned. Just to add to the utter dread coursing through your veins, something slimy brushed against your foot. Most likely a piece of seaweed, but you didn't make that connection at the time.

That very same moment, Finnick burst through the water's surface, only mildly breathless and pinching a small iridescent shell between his fingers.

"Look at thi—"

Before the words could leave his mouth, he found himself enveloped in your distraught embrace. Your face was buried in the crook of his neck, crying tears of relief.

Damn that stupid seashell.

He automatically secured you in his arms, concern palpable in his voice as he asked, "Are you okay?"

You pulled away, an indistinguishable combination of tears and saltwater rolling down your cheeks. Though it was hard to miss the look of distress found in your furrowed brows and trembling lips.

"Don't ever do that to me again!" you exclaimed, gripping his arms to emphasise your urgency. "You hear me?! Ever!"

Finnick's head tilted slightly, surprised by your emotional reaction. He hadn't realised he meant so much to you. The surprise faded into remorse, softening his features.

"I won't. I won't, I promise," he said sincerely. His eyes flickered over the worry lines etched on your forehead. He unconsciously brushed his thumb over the lines, hoping to draw out the anxiety with his touch, and then tucked away a strand of hair. "I'm sorry I scared you."

You took in a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to compose yourself. A mess of emotions stirred inside you—worry, embarrassment, irritation. You were partially frustrated with Finnick for making you fear for his life. Mostly annoyed with yourself for showing such vulnerability in front of him.

"God, you're an idiot sometimes," you sighed, shaking your head.

He smirked. "Didn't think you cared so much about me."

"No, you just don't think, Finn."

He glanced off into the distance for a moment with furrowed brows. "Well, that's definitely not true," he countered, meeting your gaze again with a half-smirk. "I think about a lot of things, actually."

"Oh? Like what?" you asked, slightly annoyed. "Do tell me what the great Finnick Odair thinks about instead of his own safety."

Slowly, the smirk faded from his lips. Something new tinged the atmosphere and suddenly everything around you seemed hotter than it previously was. Not an uncomfortable or sweltering heat, but one that held an intensity that sparked the air with electricity.

You suddenly became very aware that Finnick was still holding you in his arms. You recognised the confined proximity between you and him and realised that, before this moment, your bodies had never been so close.

Your legs were curled around his hips, pelvis pressed firmly against his. The position of his hands, which were keeping you afloat, was bordering on inappropriate but would only be deemed as such if you cared. Which you didn't. You liked it—having his hands on you.

One thing you couldn't ignore was the flickering of his gaze. How his eyes kept dropping to your lips. How they blatantly revealed a long-awaited confession that words just couldn't capture. Still, you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted to hear the purr in his voice as he told you.

Then he was leaning in. You weren't sure whether it was on purpose or if the pure magnetism of the tension between you was drawing him closer. Regardless, you started to lean in closer too, eyes drooping as you focused on his mouth.

And before the short distance between your lips and his became immeasurable, you whispered, "Tell me, Finn."

The hands keeping you afloat trailed up and down your back restlessly as Finnick forced a tense exhale through his nose. He seemed to be wrestling with thoughts. You waited in anticipation, and right when it seemed like he was going to make a move—

"I think..."

—you were interrupted. By no less than a pod of dolphins as they leapt from the water, causing you and Finnick to jolt from each other's embrace.

The rest of that evening was not worth mentioning. Not because you had forgotten what happened, but because the sheer awkwardness between you and Finnick afterwards was so torturous that you wanted to keep the memory squashed in the recesses of your mind. Neither of you acknowledged what happened. Finnick still walked you home, but it was done so in agonising silence.

Surprisingly, you both returned to the beach the next day. You hadn't expected him to be his usual upbeat self, but he was. So, in turn, you too acted like the previous day was erased from history. But your friendship with him was never the same.

Flirty conversations no longer felt like a joke; they now had a deeper meaning. Fleeting touches caused full-body goosebumps that didn't happen before. There was so much unresolved tension, and it was painfully thick. Inescapable.

So, as Finnick sat beside you present-day, weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath your bodies, you couldn't help but notice the transparency of your body language and his. The gap between you both was comparable to the size of a pearl and even though neither of you acknowledged it, you kept catching each other stealing quick glances every half-minute or so.

When you were sure he wasn't looking, you found your gaze drawn to his fingers. They were sturdy, yet nimble; curling and manoeuvring in ways that had your face feeling hotter than the heat of any sunburn or warm summer's day. This heat was beneath your skin. Spreading through your limbs in little tendrils and wrapping around your nerves. A dip in the salty sea wouldn't cool you down nor would a gulp of cold fresh water.

As you stared at his hands, you knew only the source of the sensation could offer reprieve. But that wouldn't happen, so there you burned.

The fact that he was shirtless and that his hair was a gorgeous mess of damp bronze curls helped not one bit with taming the consuming desire inside you. God, you were a mess yourself.

You sighed.

The sun, glowing intensely with a divine orange, was beginning its descent on the horizon. Your feet were buried beneath the soft sand, trying to retain some warmth as a slight breeze blew against your exposed skin.

Wearing a short sundress probably wasn't the most practical idea. Embarrassing as it was to admit, practicality wasn't what was going through your mind when you decided to wear it... Someone—Something else was.

"Something on your mind?" Finnick asked suddenly.

Your heart fumbled in your chest, terrified that he had somehow heard your thoughts. "Sorry?"

"You sighed," he said, turning his head to look at you. "Or am I just getting so old that I'm already starting to hear things?"

With relief of his lack of mind-reading abilities, you laughed softly. "You're definitely getting a bit old, Finn," you teased. "Any nursing homes you've been considering?"

"I heard retirement by the sea has its perks," he quipped, subtle dimples present as he returned to his weaving. "Although, I will need someone to make sure I don't fall asleep while swimming and get carried out by the tide. What d'you say, sweetheart? Up for becoming my personal lifeguard?"

Absolutely. "Depends. Will you force me to wear one of those awful flowery swimming caps with a matching tankini?"

He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "I'm thinking more like those little red bodysuits. You know, the ones that zip open down the front?"

You reprimanded him by pushing his shoulder, wearing a betraying smile. "Very charming."

"I just think red's your colour, that's all," he laughed.

Your stomach fluttered. You knew he was teasing you; teasing was basically the foundation of your... friendship. Deep down, you knew there was also some truth behind his words. A truth that was as electrifying as it was upsetting—how long were you both going to keep up with this whole 'friends' charade? Could you handle it if the answer was forever?

Best not to think about it. For your sanity's sake.

Finnick finally settled into a comfortable position with his forearms locked around his bent knees, apparently having decided to continue his mat-weaving another time. He had been extending it bit by bit ever since he first made it for you. At this point, you were sure he was attempting to cover the entire beach. For now, it was only big enough for two people to lie down on.

Sounds pretty convenient, came an abrupt thought.

And then you fell down yet another rabbit hole of depraved daydreams... A pair of hands interlocking your own above your head. Hot lips pressing kisses to your neck. Tongue gliding up the sensitive skin of your jugular. Your fingers tugging at bronze curls between your thighs.

You were sick. Diseased with immorality. Finnick was your friend. If not your best friend. You're not supposed to fantasise about fucking your best friend.

"Thinking about anyone in particular?"

You almost choked on your saliva. "W—What?"

How did he keep doing that?

Finnick seemed to find joy in your perplexity. It was written all over his face. God, those fucking dimples. "You've been completely still for nearly five minutes and your legs are covered in goosebumps," he pointed out. "Hence the question: who are you thinking about?"

As you looked down, you found that your skin was in fact riddled with goosebumps. It didn't occur to you then that the only reason he could have noticed was if he was staring at your legs in the first place. It also didn't occur to you that Finnick obviously had the very same debauched thoughts running through his own mind.

Why did you have to wear such a revealing dress? He already struggled enough with resisting you at the best of times.

If you had been paying attention, a simple glance in his direction would have revealed how his ears were pink and his pupils were dilated. More importantly, you would have seen his legs constantly shifting to ease the discomfort tenting his pants. Fortunately, he had mastered the art of winding himself down in a short amount of time.

Unfortunately for you, that ability was not within your skill set.

You scoffed. "In case you haven't noticed, Finnick—it's autumn," you said, a quick snappy lilt in your tone. "I know you've got some weird internal space heater built into you, but normal people tend to have a reaction to the cold."

Well, it's a good thing you didn't sound defensive...

Finnick raised an eyebrow at you, displaying a puzzled half-smirk that spoke a thousand words.

You lowered your head in embarrassment, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry," you murmured. "I just, uh, don't really like the cold."

"Who could've guessed."

Despite serving as an excuse, it wasn't entirely untrue. You really did dislike the cold. And it was now that you seriously regretted your choice of sparse attire. The breeze kept blowing up the dress's skirt, threatening to expose your dignity to the world. Or more accurately, to Finnick. Thankfully, you had decided to wear a pair of delicate lace underwear that morning instead of old granny panties.

Nevertheless, now that it was on your mind, you couldn't think about anything but the cold gusts of wind blowing against you. Chills ran over your skin and you were shaking like a leaf.

Finnick, being the gentleman that he was, scanned the surrounding area for anything he could use to keep you warm. He would've given you his shirt had it not been crumpled in a ball of wet sand on the ground.

There was nothing else of use. Nothing except a single apprehensive idea sitting in the forefront of his mind. It was all he had. He bit the inside of his cheek as he contemplated the potentially disastrous idea.

Then, after taking a silent deep breath, he finally said, "Come here then." Your eyes snapped to his. You must've looked like you had seen a ghost because his brows knitted together in confusion. "What?" he breathed out a chuckle. "I'd prefer not having to carry you home as a block of ice."

You thought about it for a moment. Was it really such a good idea after the thoughts that were just swarming in your mind? Another gust of wind blew by and you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself.

"I won't bite, sweetheart. Not unless you want me to," he added.

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, shut up."

With that, you slid across the mat, positioning your body, which was still facing the sunset, in front of his legs. There was a moment of hesitation. Anxiety. But before you could reconsider, Finnick wrapped a strong arm around your middle and pulled you back against his chest, situating your body between his legs.

The exhale that left your lips was instantaneous and you couldn't help but shudder at the warmth of his skin. "God," you sighed, overwhelmed by the sudden change in temperature. "How are you so warm all the time?"

"Oh, you know. Weird internal space heater."

You laughed softly, then felt Finnick's chest vibrate against your back as he joined you. His bare arms wound tighter around you, motivated by the affectionate atmosphere. Your body seemed to melt into the cocoon of warmth he provided, and a soft smile graced your lips.

"Better?" he asked.

You nodded, responding with a whisper, "Thank you."

"Anytime."

You could hear the smile in his voice and how intently he was trying to hide it. You wished you could have seen it. To see the sense of peace you shared. However, feeling it in the way he held you was enough.

Instead of blood, your heart now seemed to be pumping out rather odd alternatives—waves of sea-green salted ocean, iridescent seashells, smiles paired with heart-stopping dimples. How could he? How could Finnick condemn you to loving him like this? So unwaveringly; so without a hope of ever being able to return to life without him in it.

He made a mess of you. A ruin. And even with wholesome affection running through your veins, you still couldn't ignore the hazy images conjuring in your mind from the way his body was pressed firmly behind you.

How could he?

The sun had just touched the horizon, granting the sky a few more minutes of light, meaning it was almost time to head home—an upsetting reality. You weren't sure how much time had passed before your body started to ache from lack of movement.

You wiggled your toes which were buzzing like television static. The feeling started moving up your legs and you knew if you didn't stretch, you would later embarrass yourself trying to stand on dead legs. So that is what you did. You started moving.

First, you stretched out the muscles in your legs and then moved onto straightening your back against Finnick's chest, feeling the faint pops of your spine offer you relief. And then you started readjusting your position and wriggling your hips to fit more comfortably between Finnick's toned thighs. That was your first mistake.

"Stop moving."

You were taken aback by the rigid inflection in his tone. "What?" you asked, ignoring his warning and continuing your restless movements.

"Stop. Moving," Finnick repeated, sounding more strained.

His hold on you became stiff. Completely frozen.

You were confused. Everything was perfect a moment ago, and all you were doing was stretching—why was he being so weird and snappy?

In response, you exhaled sharply. "I'm just trying to get comf—"

"Fuck," he breathed out.

Your eyes widened and it was safe to say your stomach had flipped inside out.

That was the moment you finally realised your second mistake. The rigidness in his voice wasn't him being snappy with you at all. Not even close. He was just trying to prevent the pleasure he felt below from reaching his vocal cords.

But it was too late. It wouldn't have mattered if he managed to keep quiet because you could feel it now. The achingly hard length that was pressed against your backside, reaching all the way up to your tailbone.

"...Oh," you whispered.

"Yeah," Finnick said. "Oh."

Now it was your turn to freeze. Fear consumed you, similar to what you imagined having to remain motionless in front of tyrannosaurus rex to prevent from being eaten alive was like. Thanks to the damning wind, strands of your hair blew behind your shoulders, undoubtedly tickling the exposed skin of Finnick's chest. Even that minuscule movement had your heart threatening to explode with anxiety.

As per usual, panic wreaked havoc in your mind.

What do I do? Do I get up? How will we come back from this? Does he—

Finnick cleared his throat. "Uh, you still alive in there?" he chuckled nervously.

You felt minor relief enter your bloodstream upon hearing the normality in his voice. At least one of you was composed enough to act normally. Well, as normal as one could act after becoming hard due to their best friend sitting in their lap.

"Is it—" You swallowed the nerves rattling your voice "—is it because there's a girl sitting on your lap, or is it because it's me?"

That was the million-dollar question. Was his reaction simply biological? A natural response to stimulation? Or was it deeper than that? More personal.

Finnick was silent.

The rapid thumping in your chest moved to your ears, like a drumroll leading up to some grand reveal. You felt dizzy; both filled with dreadful anticipation and exhilaration. Your senses were so heightened, fuelled by an inane bout of adrenaline. You swore you could almost hear the gears turning in Finnick's mind, smell the smoke as they rotated over and over, trying to make sense of your question and form a suitable response.

Religion never played a factor in your life, but, oh, how you were zealously praying his answer would be the one you spent all your nights fantasising about. But still, he was silent.

And right when you believed he wasn't going to respond at all, his lips finally uttered that single life-changing word. "You."

Fireworks seemed to light up every nerve in your body. You.

You weren't sure what to make of your thoughts at first. The overwhelming abundance of emotion caused by a singular word was difficult to fathom. Only one sentiment stood out from the rest—and that was the fact that Finnick felt the same as you did for him.

It was no longer a speculation. It was a fact. A truth. An undeniable reality. You had both verbal and physicalproof, literally digging into your backside.

Finnick slowly, very slowly, unwound an arm from your torso, and you held your breath. His hand slid across your waist and then plastered itself over your hipbone, careful not to apply too much pressure to make you feel uncomfortable. When you felt the slight movement of his thumb gliding across your clothed skin, you exhaled the burning air in your lungs with a shaky sigh.

"Do you want me to get up?" you asked softly while staring at the sunset, although you were focused on anything but.

"Not a chance." And then he unwound the other arm, now cupping both sides of your hips with two large hands. The heat from his palm sank into your skin, sinking deeper layer by layer until it reached the rapid flow of your bloodstream. "Do you want to get up?"

You felt a pulsing sensation between your thighs that had your parted lips inhaling slow deep breaths, and you knew the only logical answer was no. So, you shook your head.

Finnick reached up to skilfully tuck a lock of hair behind your ear before placing his hand back on your hip. He then leaned down beside your ear, voice a hot, velvety whisper, "What next then, sweetheart?"

A wave of chills ran down your entire body.

What next? Another question for the ages. You had dreamt of this moment a million times over. You had pictured the unholiest, most vivid of scenarios, and yet here you were, mind blank as an empty void.

Then it hit you. Rather than acting from a pre-planned script, wouldn't it be better to just let your body act on what it naturally desired? On instinct? You took in a deep, stabilising breath and gave yourself into moment.

You slowly began turning your head to the side until, for the first time since he pulled you into his arms, your eyes flickered up and found Finnick's. His lips quirked with the ghost of a smile at the exchange, but he held it back. His jaw clenched and unclenched, muscles ticking with tension.

He was looking at you in a way you had never seen before. Or perhaps, you were just never close enough to notice, and he had always looked at you this way. There was a blazing intensity in his eyes, dark and penetrative, a bridge between yearning and total reverence. It was so enticing that you could feel your hands itching to undress yourself in front of him.

Finnick murmured your name.

"Yes?" you managed to whisper.

"Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this?"

Those words—he had stolen them from the tip of your tongue.

You couldn't find the strength to muster any profound response. So instead, you found your head tilting back and the crook of your elbow winding up and around the nape of his neck. You didn't need to guide him down; he came willingly.

His lips caught yours in a soft, warm exchange. Singular yet prolonged. Then there was a brief pause of disconnection, a calm before the storm. And with Finnick, when it rained, it poured. Suddenly, a hand was cupping the area where your jaw and neck connected, and his lips were on yours again.

There was so much more heat in this kiss. A depth that kept growing with each connection of your lips. You could hear the fervour in the breathless exhales that exited his nose, the quiet groans that slipped into your mouth. Though the same could be said for you.

You couldn't subdue the moans and meek whimpers that leaked out. Especially when his tongue slipped into your mouth and took control over your own. At this point, you couldn't even be called putty in his arms; you were pure liquid, totally and completely submissive in his embrace.

It was impossible to tell who was throbbing beneath you anymore. All you were sure of was that the pretty lace panties you had put on that morning were now soaked. Though even if he never touched you, you wouldn't have cared. Having his lips on yours, his tongue on yours, was enough. And if he kept at it long enough, you were sure it would even be enough to get you off. That's how much power Finnick had over you.

Apparently, he felt the same too. Because when you leaned further back into him and your ass pushed against the length of his erection, his fist scrunched the fabric of your dress by your hip and his lips left yours to let out a shuddering breath.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he huffed, half chuckling.

Technically, it was a suppressed moan. Either way, you swear you almost came then and there.

With one last gentle kiss, you opened your eyes, pulling away to replenish your lungs with air. Finnick's eyes were already locked on yours in a drunken haze from the taste of your lips. Your arm unwound from his neck, grazing down his broad shoulders and bicep. During so, your eyes caught on the tiny bumps and raised hair scattered across his arm.

"You've got goosebumps," you smiled, trailing your fingertips across his skin.

His gaze moved to follow your hand, wearing a boyish grin. "Would you believe me if I said I was cold?"

Your throat buzzed with a suppressed giggle. Seeing the way his body reacted to yours was incredibly motivating. Someone telling you they lusted after you could easily be spoken with deception. But having visual confirmation, witnessing a reaction that couldn't possibly be forced, was a whole different story. Finnick's body craved you.

Given that incentive, the slight trepidation still holding you back now disappeared into the back of your mind. Your fingers curled around his wrist, dragging the hand beneath your jaw down to your neck, and then down to your chest. It didn't take him too long to figure out your intentions. He overtook your influence and autonomously moved his hand to cup your breast.

You were essentially caged in his embrace. Exactly how you wanted it.

You stared ahead with relaxed eyes, watching as the sun slipped into the dark water. Night had officially blanketed District Four and, now being shielded by darkness, the stars were your only witness. Strangely enough, you felt a new sense of shamelessness.

So as Finnick kneaded your breast in his warm hand and pinched the sensitive peak of your nipple between his thumb and forefinger through the lace of your bra, you allowed a soft moan to escape your lips.

It was almost as if you could actually feel the smirk growing across Finnick's lips behind you. One thing you actually could feel was the twitch of his achingly hard cock beneath you.

"You like that?" he asked, definitely smirking.

"Yes," you sighed almost immediately.

If only he knew how truly euphoric you felt. If only he knew how many times you had imagined being in this exact situation. Having him touching you like this. The guilt of imagining him in such a way used to eat you up. But now that you were past the guilt, there was no shame connected to the thought of Finnick eating you up.

Fuck, he would look so perfect between your thighs—bronze curls all messed up from your pulling and tugging; sea green eyes squeezed shut as he dedicated his attention to dragging you down to the pits of hell with his tongue.

Your head fell back against his collarbone. He took this as a signal to move your hair aside and start planting hot kisses onto the curve of your shoulder. Then he trailed further across, brushing his lips across your skin until he reached the side of your neck and started sucking gently, though enough to leave behind pretty little red marks of possession.

"What about this?" he murmured against the delicate skin.

The faint taste of sea-salted air sat in the back of your throat as your breaths deepened. You felt his tongue glide partially up the length of your carotid artery, and your entire nervous system seemed to short-circuit.

"Yes,"you practically whined.

He must have found this amusing because you could feel the vibrations of his chuckle against your neck. But he wasn't finished yet. Hell, the finish line was a lifetime away regarding the things he planned on doing to you. They probably couldn't all be done in one night though, unfortunately.

You had completely forgotten about the hand still splayed on your hip. Why would you pay it any attention when it was sitting idle? Only it wasn't simply resting on your hip anymore. No. Now it was moving. Moving down.

His lips were still on your neck and he was still cupping your breast, but all you could focus on was the carnal descent of his hand. He found the hem of your dress, fingers toying with the flimsy material as one did when deciding whether or not to go through with something potentially consequential. Ultimately, he began to drag the fabric up your thighs, knuckles grazing over your soft skin until the skirt of your dress was ruched around your hips.

You sucked in a sharp breath. The vulnerability of suddenly being exposed in such a manner hit you like a tonne of bricks. This was really happening. Finnick, the Capitol's darling, District Four's golden boy, and more significant;y, your best friend, was touching you. He was kissing you. He was seeing and feeling parts of your body you had never let him see or feel before.

Naturally, this unfurling web of thoughts produced a surge of insecurity.

But, when his hand curled around your inner thigh and spread a wildfire of warmth across your skin, every thought that was previously passing through your mind disintegrated and was replaced with unadulterated yearning.

Finnick's mouth finally detached from your neck to hover beside your ear. "And this?"

He lightly kneaded your thigh to emphasise his question, dangerously close to the place that undoubtedly crossed the boundary between friend and lover.

You were speechless. The desire running through your veins was paralysing. All you could do was look, see, feel, and hope to god you didn't pass out from the shallowness of your breathing.

"Come on, sweetheart," he roused in that low, seductive purr. "Don't go quiet on me now. Use your words."

And how could you ever disobey a voice like that? It took every ounce of strength and concentration you had in you, but eventually, you managed to find your voice.

"I—" You cut yourself off with a gasp as his thumb purposefully wandered up to the edge of your underwear. Asshole. "I lie awake every night imagining us like this, Finn. You don't need permission to touch me. You've already had it for months."

Suddenly, a gentle finger was turning your chin, compelling you to meet Finnick's gaze. His eyes lacked the intensity from before and were now brimming with awe, brows knitted as if he was asking for confirmation if what you had said was truthful. And it was, painfully so.

To answer his wordless question, you leaned forward and connected your lips with his. He responded with ardency, and not long after, you could feel his hand wander up to the waistband of your panties.

He wasted not a second before dipping his hand beneath the lace material and finding that sensitive spot that had been begging for his attention.

Your lips separated from his to let out a breathy moan. "Finnick."

He simply smiled, two fingers rubbing circles around your clit. He pressed gentle coaxing kisses to your lips, and you really did try to respond, but you were never one for multitasking. Especially when the man you had fallen in love with was touching you so.

His other hand wandered across your torso, holding your waist, grazing over your stomach, tracing the length of your sternum. All very loving adorations compared to what his other hand was doing.

"I think I'm going to hell because of you," he murmured, millimetres away from your lips. Such a disconcerting thing for someone to admit, but all you could manage was a hum in response. "Every time I see you, I can feel myself getting closer and closer. You derange my thoughts, sweetheart. You corrupt them.

How am I supposed to be around you if I want to fuck you every time you say my name? And what makes it so much more impossible is that you don't even mean to make me feel this way; you just do. God, you're maddening. So sweet and maddening," he cooed, fingers picking up in pace which caused you to melt back into his chest and let out a pretty little moan. "Drives me crazy."

"And to think," you managed, "I thought you had your hands between my legs because you hated me."

Your hips were rolling lightly along with the rhythm of his fingers.

At the very same time Finnick's thighs tensed around your hips from the friction against his cock, he abruptly plunged two fingers inside you. Punishment.

The moan you let out was positively filthy.

"Such an attitude you have," he said. "Anyone would think you're completely innocent in a dress like this. But I know better than that." His fingers slid in and out, curling every time the base of his fingers bottomed out inside of you. "I know exactly why you wore it. Just like I know exactly why you wore those lace panties you pretend that I can't see whenever you bend over."

Heat crept up into your cheeks from hearing his words. You wanted to provoke him by saying 'And look where it got me'but who knew how his fingers would respond to your attitude.

"You can't do that to a man," he continued. "It's criminal."

"It's only fair, Finn," you breathed out, struggling to keep your voice level. "You ruined me."

A deep moan rumbled in his chest, though it never escaped. He couldn't break that easily. He needed to remain in control. This moment, to him, seemed like an eternity forthcoming. He needed to make the most of this moment with you, needed to show you what it was like to receive earth-shattering pleasure so that you only ever wanted to receive it from him. No one else.

Despite his obvious attempts at keeping himself in check, you could still feel his thick impatient cock twitch beneath your ass. Even through the layers of clothing between you, you could tell that he was incredibly big. So much so that it worried you a little. Only, when his fingers curled again, you forgot all about it.

The pads of his fingertips buried into your inner walls with every curl. The heel of his palm struck your clit with every thrust of his fingers and you could feel your stomach start tightening. Fuck, he was amazing at this.

It had been so long since someone had touched you like this. Well, someone that was actually good at it. Just a few minutes and Finnick was already about to make you come.

"Feels so good, so—ah—good!" you moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

He reached a free hand up to your breast, lightly pinching your nipple between his fingers until you let out a gasp. At least one of you was good at multitasking.

"You gonna come?" he asked, not that he even needed an answer. He could feel the way your walls were contracting around his fingers, feel the sticky warmth of your slick leaking onto his knuckles.

You nodded fervently.

"Say please first."

"Finn," you whined in frustration.

You could hear him chuckle self-satisfyingly behind you. "Come on, baby. Sweet girls are supposed to have manners, aren't they?"

His low, husky voice almost threw you over the edge. Oh, how you would love to listen to the sound of him talking you through your orgasm. That is if he ever even let you get to that point.

Never had you ever thought you would be pleading with a man for anything, yet here you were. Though, Finnick Odair could hardly be called a man. He was so much more than that; he was bordering on divinity. And you weren't going to miss the chance of being unravelled at the hands of a divine being.

"Please, Finnick," you begged, your body literally buzzing with desperation. "Please make me come."

He pressed a kiss below your earlobe. "Since you asked so nicely."

His fingers picked up in pace. They weren't even plunging in and out anymore but were rather curling, over and over again in that electrifying spot inside you. He went hard and fast, working to bring you to your high as quickly as possible. Your moans were so unrestrained, so breathless and shallow that you started to feel the world spin around you.

Your hand flew back to hold onto his arm, nails digging into the hard muscles of his bicep. Your hips were writhing in Finnick's lap and you could hear him groan out a string of curses. He held you down by the hip to try and keep you still, then moved across to the bottom of your abdomen where he pressed down.

That is what did it for you.

You cried out as tightness spread down your stomach and pure ecstasy took control. Finnick murmured words of praise and reassurance as you rode through your high, though a lot of it didn't register in your mind. You heard only a few bits and pieces which were enough to prolong the feeling that was overwhelming your entire body.

"Taking it so well."

"That's it, sweetheart. That's it."

"Such a good girl."

As the waves of pleasure slowly began to subside, you returned to reality. The heat that had been building up inside you started melting away, leaving you in a state of relaxation. Your fingers, which previously clung onto Finnick's arm, now grazed absentmindedly across his skin. It felt like you had been sucked into a dream—a little hazy and surreal, but incredibly tranquil.

"You okay?" Finnick asked softly.

You hadn't even noticed that his fingers had left your body. He had pulled down the hem of your dress— not that your dignity really needed saving anymore—and was holding your melted figure in his arms.

"Mm," you hummed contently, eyes fixed on the view in front of you. "Warmed up."

If only you were able to see his face, his smile. Those dimples. A powerful longing to be able to see every expression known to man morph his facial features washed over you. It was a little ridiculous how attracted to him you were. Nonetheless, you indulged the desire.

You pushed yourself from his lap and pivoted to face him

You were straddling his lap before any ounce of hesitation could hold you back. Finnick circled his arms around your waist, pulling you closer into his chest. He was smiling. He was smiling and it was even more beautiful than any sunset you had ever witnessed. You concluded that you had definitely made the right choice in deciding to face him.

"Hi," you whispered.

He smiled. "Hey, stranger."

He brushed back a few pieces of hair from your face, observing the blown size of your pupils and the sultry colour of your lips. He did that—he could not get over the fact that he did that to you. Finally.

You shrunk away from his gaze, a timid smile on your lips.

Finnick tilted his head slightly. "Shy thing."

You buried your face into the side of his neck, groaning quietly in embarrassment. You could hear the perfect sound of him laughing above you. He stroked the length of your spine, somehow managing to ease the nerves from your body with a simple touch. You left a quick kiss on the warm skin of his neck and rose back up to meet his gaze.

"Feeling better?"

"Much," you replied, sheepishly. Your eyes flickered across Finnick's, hesitated, and then gestured downwards. "But... you're not." His head tilted as though he were confused as to what you were suggesting, so you leaned in closer until your lips ghosted over his. "Still need to take care of you."

A breath of warm air fanned across your face as he chuckled. He shook his head. "It's alright. I can hold off for another time."

And although the prospect of doing this again another time was downright exhilarating, you couldn't ignore the palpable heat still lingering in your lower stomach, throbbing between your thighs. You could only imagine how he must have been feeling—cock throbbing with a need for relief, though ready to deny himself the same amount of pleasure he just gave you.

You suddenly curled a hand around the back of his neck and brought him into a slow kiss. To show him he was allowed to indulge himself. That you wanted him to. You ground your hips down on his lap and felt his lips falter against yours.

You pulled back and echoed your previous words, "It's only fair, Finn."

Time seemed to pause for a moment. Your breath and his mixed with one another in a sort of hot whirlwind of anticipation. Your bodies were still. Finnick's eyes were half-lidded staring at your mouth.

Then came the explosion.

His hands were hastily tugging your sundress over your head; his lips were on yours as he reached down between your bodies to unbutton his pants. It felt like a race against time. Like if you didn't do this now, the chance would never come by again. Hell, his pants hadn't even made it off his legs before he was holding himself in his hand and you were rising to your knees, positioning yourself directly above his length.

Your lips never left his, strenuous as it was, meaning the only gauge you got of how big he was wasn't from seeing it, but from feeling it as you pulled your panties aside, guided his cock to your entrance with one hand, and felt the entire veiny length of him fill you completely as you lowered yourself onto him.

A quiet, synchronised gasp left both your lips as you enveloped him completely in wet velvety warmth. His pelvis was connected with yours and his cock was pressed right up against your cervix. So incredibly deep, you could almost feel him in your stomach.

You stayed like this for a few seconds.

"So big," you gasped against his lips.

His hands were on your back, dragging up and down. "Want to stop?"

"Never."

This was so not what friends did.

He trailed kisses from your mouth, to your jaw, and down to your neck. You were grinding sinuously back and forth, Finnick's hands now on your hips as a guide, feeling his tip bury into the sensitive walls inside you. Your head fell back with a gratified moan as he nipped your neck unforgivingly, only to soothe the spots he marked with the glide of his tongue.

At that moment, the past and future were of no significance. The idea that doing this might ruin your relationship with him afterwards didn't concern you. You didn't bother recollecting a time when you and Finnick were merely friends, nor did you ponder how you even managed to reach this point.

All you could focus on was how fucking perfect his cock felt inside of you.

The cold, which was previously a nuisance, now served as a stimulant to your nipples which were only covered by the thin unpadded material of your lace bra. They were bouncing with every movement you made, the hard peaks rubbing against Finnick's chest and creating a triangle of pleasure between them and the depravity that was happening further below.

He was so hungry in the way he kissed you. His lips were soft, but they moved with heat and determination. His tongue was supple as it pushed against yours, moving masterfully in a way you could only compare to how he swam in the ocean. A conqueror—able to bring you into submission with ease.

You pushed yourself upwards, the muscles in your thighs slightly burning as you did so, and felt his cock glide through you. He inhaled harshly through his nose when his tip almost left your wet heat, and then groaned into your mouth when your hips sunk back down, engulfing him once again.

"Shit," he almost whined as your walls clenched around him. "I fuckinglove you."

You pulled away to look him in the eyes. It was incredibly difficult for you to contemplate his words—his confession—when he was, what, eight or so inches deep inside you?

He didn't look like he regretted saying it. He was simply staring at you with raised brows pinched together in pleasure, awaiting your response as you continued your sequence of rising and sinking to fill yourself up with his cock.

"You love me?" you asked in a laboured breath. He only nodded in response. You sank fully down onto his lap, discontinuing your movements, willing him to prove his so-declared devotion. "Then show me."

He was breathing heavily and watching you through strands of sea-salted hair messily splayed across his forehead. He was so beautiful it actually kind of hurt to look at him. His eyes fell to your mouth during this brief amnesty, a decision prominent in his mind. Then he was rushing forward, crushing his lips to yours and forcing your body to lay back on the mat beneath you.

Finnick somehow managed to remain inside you as he switched your positions—him now above you as your legs were wrapped around his waist. His body pinned you down with a comfortable weight, skin warm and flush against yours.

He was overpowering and dominating, and his thrusts were laced with a sense of appropriation like he was making you his. The slow grinds of his hips were hard yet measured and so breathtakingly deep, and the gentle upwards curve of his cock made sure his tip was prodding against that swollen pleasure-inducing spot every single time.

His kisses were sensual and slow; his tongue slipping languidly into your mouth, swirling and massaging your tongue like it was made of pure silk.

You had told him what to do—now he was showing you. Finnick Odair wasn't fucking you. He was making love to you.

Your hands were on his back, fingertips leaving red marks on the curves of his shoulder blades. You moved up to his hair, scratching your nails softly into his scalp, which earned you a soft moan in your mouth. Even you could feel yourself pulsing around his cock. Everything he did, every sound and action he made, had your body yielding to him.

His hand pulled you up into him by the waist, arching your back off the palm-leaf mat so that he was thrusting more profoundly into that blissful spot inside you. He never sped up his pace. He didn't need to. He was savouring the moment as much as he could, memorising each warm ripple of your walls his cock glided over inside you, every intoxicating moan your soft lips released, the pressure of your warm supple thighs hugging his waist.

He was committing every aspect of you to memory. Inside and out.

Having that knowledge only made the moment so much more pleasurable. Knowing that he wasn't just thinking about you with his cock, but was thinking about you with his heart too.

That feeling started creeping up inside you—the blissful burn of heat pooling in your lower stomach. It made your walls flutter around him. Made you whine and moan uncontrollably into his mouth until you couldn't focus on kissing him anymore and had to pull away.

Your head fell back onto the mat, hair strewn out around you. The sounds coming out of you were pure sin. Desperate, greedy sin.

Finnick chuckled adoringly above you. "Too fucked out, sweetheart?"

He couldn't exactly talk. The second you clenched around him again, he groaned out a curse and you—the parts of your mind that were still relatively comprehensible—were sure you could feel the warmth of pre-cum ooze inside you.

"Finnick," you mewled, and he caressed the baby hairs framing your face. "Feels so good. Should—should've done this sooner."

Through your half-lidded eyes, you watched as he nodded and then descended to your forehead, pressing his lips tenderly against your skin. I know, the gesture said. You felt a rush of affection flood through your body, ultimately accelerating the build-up happening inside you.

You could feel yourself teetering so impossibly close to the brink of your orgasm. The tightness inside you was so hot and overwhelming; it was a struggle for you to keep your eyes from fluttering shut and rolling back, though you willed yourself to keep them open. You had to.

Watching Finnick's face contort with pleasure as he's thrown into his own high from feeling your walls contract around him would probably be the highlight of your entire life.

"So beautiful," he cooed as he thrusted into you. "My sweet girl's gonna come, isn't she? Can feel it."

The words flew out of your mouth. "Come inside me."

"Come inside you?"

You were pretty sure he was mocking you from the devilish curve of his lips and furrow of his brows. But your lust-drunk brain didn't really care.

"Please. Wanna feel you—" Your chest heaved with each breath "—everywhere."

Finnick was so obviously trying to keep himself from giving in before you. But you could see how delirious his eyes were as they stared down at you and you heard how every low, gratified—frustratingly sexy—sound he made betrayed him. He was so close.

"Anything for you, sweetheart," he said, finally.

He managed to unhook your hands from around his back and guided them upwards, holding your wrists together above your head with one hand before he brought his other back to your waist. It was oddly romantic how he held you, given that he was fucking you like life after that night wasn't guaranteed.

And then, without warning, he was pounding into you, bottoming out completely with each thrust.

It was almost animalistic now—how you were both unable to control yourselves anymore. You were writhing beneath him, impulsively fighting against the grip he had on your wrists. And Finnick, well, he was fucking you so hard, you weren't sure if walking home that night would be a possibility.

He was a disaster of pleasured vocals, deep moans, and heavy breaths. You thanked the absolute heavens he was because it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard in your entire life.

When your own moans started to rise in pitch, you knew you were done for. You felt so full. Stretched out to the max. Blinded by the heat that was drowning you. But your eyes managed to remain clear and locked on Finnick's the entire time, just as his were on yours.

With a fleeting glance downward, he once again placed a large hand over your abdomen and pushed down, and your back arched off the ground.

You were gone.

"Oh fuck!"

The heat, white and fiery, had consumed you. Your thighs tensed uncontrollably around Finnick, your body shaking beneath him as your insides pulsed all the way down to your stuffed entrance. White, sticky sweetness covered Finnick's cock as he continued to thrust into you, the wet sounds overpowering the waves cresting on the sands. It felt like fucking heaven.

He let out a moan, broken and breathless, and released the grip he had on your hands. In that short moment, you instantly gripped onto him, feeling his body shudder beneath your hands as his throbbing cock spurted out ropes of warmth deep inside you, the essence of both of you mixing inside your body, making you one.

You pulled him down and crushed your lips to his with a sudden intense urge to be as close to him as you could, if it were even possible to be any closer to him at that point. It felt a little spiritual, the way you practically wanted to merge your body with his. That's what having sex with someone you truly loved was like, you supposed.

The kiss was sloppy and messy, but it never lacked heat or affection. Lacking heat was impossible between you and Finnick.

A lot of time passed before either of you even contemplated pulling away from one another. Finnick was inside you for what must have been a good half hour after you had both finished. It felt close. Deeply intimate. He held you in his arms, his hands mapping out various parts of your body with unhurried measure as you lay beneath him, lazily yet affectionately making out with warm, reddened lips.

There were quiet giggles and heated words whispered between you that would have prompted another session had either of you been graced with the energy.

But it was late. The remnants of the sun had long since disappeared beneath the horizon, dimming the sky to a deep dark blue, the world's only source of illumination being the stars casting their sparkling light on the rippling water.

It was a new moon.

Eventually, you ended up laying over his chest, legs strewn across his as you both faced the ocean. Your head rose and fell with each breath Finnick took and it felt unreal.

You were momentarily worried your infatuation with him had grown too out of hand and you had imagined the whole day, or perhaps, the entire time you had known him. That it was all a figment of your vivid imagination.

Then, his warm hand slid into your own, which was draped across his stomach, and you knew that this, the newfound relationship between you and Finnick, was undeniably and rapturously real.

He slowly lifted them together above your bodies, palms flat against one another. There was a notable size difference between them—his palm was large and calloused with long fingers that squared off at the tips, meanwhile, your own fist could probably fit into his palm.

Your fingers danced delicately together as you both watched from below. He traced the length of your fingers with his fingertips; followed the etches in your palm, and turned your hand to explore the protrusions of your knuckles. There was a certain gentle curiosity in his touch, similar to that of someone who was discovering the act of human connection for the first time.

"I don't know if I can walk home," you whispered.

Finnick lowered your interlocked hands to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles before placing them back on his stomach. "I'll carry you."

"For an entire hour?"

"I'll manage," he said, "I've got muscles."

You scoffed quietly to yourself, smiling. "Ok, big strong man."

"Says the girl who needs to be carried home."

"Well, you are kind of the one to blame for that."

You tilted your head to glance up at him and found exactly what you were expecting to see. He was wearing a proud grin, all apple cheeks and crinkled eyes. It was something you had come to adore, even though sometimes it was out of arrogance.

Your head turned to rest back on his chest. You watched as his thumb caressed slow circles over your knuckle.

"What you said before," you began, "is it true? Do you really... love me?"

The heart beating beneath your ear genuinely sounded like it skipped a beat. You imagined that was a good sign, though your nerves were still a little frayed. What if he had only said it because of the heat of the moment?

A beat went by. "I've been trying to tell you ever since I first wove the mat for you," he confessed, his voice quiet yet holding the weight of the history that made up your friendship.

There it was—the truth laid bare. Despite hearing the words, it didn't really change anything. You suspected deep down you knew the entire time; you were just too self-doubting to accept it. To accept that Finnick Odair, the crown jewel of Panem, had fallen in love with you, an ordinary girl from District Four who just so happened to meet him at a secret beach.

Although, there was a sensation you remember upon first meeting him. That instinct that had told you to stay instead of running away, as any logical human being would do upon being approached by a stranger in the middle of nowhere. That instinct, despite sounding utterly ridiculous, caused you to believe that perhaps it was fate.

Maybe you were destined to meet. Maybe it didn't matter that he was a nationwide celebrity, nor you a simple town girl. Maybe your souls were entwined from the start and, one way or another, you would have met anyway.

Maybe.

"That's a long time," you said.

He laughed. "Yeah, well, I thought you would've gotten the hint by now."

And you couldn't help but join him. You thought you were the one who was deranged out of their mind. Here Finnick was telling you he had spent an entire year trying to confess his love without you even realising.

"I'm sorry it took me so long."

"It's alright," he said, earnestly. "I'd say it worked out pretty well. I mean, look where your obliviousness got us."

You smiled. Your legs were tangled with Finnick's; his arm was holding you tightly against his bare upper body, and his fingers were lovingly tracing over yours. Yeah, you were pretty grateful for your obliviousness sometimes. A new pair of underwear might have been something to consider, though.

A silence settled between you, comfortable, peaceful. Being in Finnick's embrace almost made you forget entirely about the reality of your existence—the Games, the dominion over Panem, the chaotic environment back home. It was the reason you had set off last year in search of a place away from society.

You had now found that the escape you were looking for wasn't a place or a hidden paradise, but a person. It was Finnick.

"Finn?"

"Yeah?"

The trees and palm leaves danced in the light breeze. Waves lapped on the shore.

You angled your head back to look at Finnick and felt him pull you closer. His expression was a picture of relaxation and contentment. His eyes gazed down at you, glimmering with the reflection of scattered stars in the night sky, just like the sea in front of you.

He seemed to already know what you were going to say. Always the mind reader.

"Say it, sweetheart." The corners of his lips twitched expectantly.

Sweetheart. Oh, how could you have ever felt for him in any other way?

"I love you too."

His face broke into one of the happiest smiles you had ever seen.

...roll credits

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coryosbaby · 4 months

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18+, MDNI

The Water Scene in Catching Fire Defines how Peeta, Finnick, and Katniss Eat pussy.

I’m sorry, but I believe this wholeheartedly .

Peeta Mellark is gentle, smooth, and soft. His tongue leaves trails in brushy strokes against your clit, lips wrapped around the swollen bud and suckling. He uses his fingers to slowly curl into your sweet spot— the tips of them massage your inner walls perfectly, and he lets out tiny whimpers as he devours your cunt. He may talk, mumbling out tiny praises against your lips, blushing like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Love your pussy, love it so much..”

“squeezing my fingers so good, can’t wait for you to squeeze my cock, baby.”

“Cum, please please cum all over me… I’ll be a good boy!”

He eats you out anytime you ask him to, and sometimes a lot of the time when he feels like using his tongue. When he cums, he’ll do it grinding himself against your leg like a desperate, whimpering puppy. <3

Finnick O’Dair is wild, untamed, and sloppy. His mouth devours you as he fucks your hole with his tongue, his fingers bruising against your thighs as he laps at your cunt. Groans spill from his lips, and honestly he’s too busy tasting you to speak. But sometimes, if you’re being extra bratty, he loves to slap your thighs and pull away with his chin dripping with slick to scold you.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop squirming? Keep your fucking legs open.”

“If you yank my hair like that again, you aren’t getting my mouth for a month.”

“what’d I tell you, huh? Don’t make me have to duct tape that pretty mouth shut.”

Oh my god, he literally is always between your legs. He mostly always initiates it because he just loves your pussy so much, and you get shy when asking him. Sometimes he’ll pull out his cock and jerk it sloppily between your legs and ride out his high by marking his cum all over your lips. <3

Katniss Everdeen is skilled, precise, calculated. Her mouth latches onto your pussy without a second thought, the tip of her tongue rubbing circles into your clit. She presses her fingers deep, draws out orgasm after orgasm. She doesn’t care if you say it’s too much. Her mouth will move hot between your legs and she’ll make you cum over and over again until she wants to stop. She respects your boundaries, of course, but in this case you almost always ask her to push you over your limits. She’ll tell you where to put your hands, or where to guide her when she’s eating you so she can get it just right.

“No, I said to put them over your head. Don’t make me tell you again, okay?”

“How many times have you came? Three? Four? Oh, that’s cute. But you’re going to have to give me one more.”

“Grab my hair, not too hard— just like that. There’s my good girl.”

She does it when you suggest, or when she’s stressed and needs a snack distraction. When she cums, she does it by letting you return the favor. Your mouth kisses up her thighs, and you practically drool as you settle yourself between her legs <3

@mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper

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liseytopia · 4 months

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───★

𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐜𝐬.

𓇼 finnick odair who snorts with tears of laughter welling in the corners of his eyes when he laughs too hard. when you two share jokes and bring up funny moments you had together.

𖦹 finnick odair who loves flustering you with pickup lines and snarky comments, but covers his face with the palms of his hands when you get him back. behind those hands is a pretty, dimpled smile and blushed cheeks that scream 'i love you.'

𓇼 finnick odair who finds comfort in holding your hand. tracing little shapes on your knuckles with his calloused yet soft fingertips.

𖦹 finnick odair who bought you a surfboard that matches with his for your birthday. he customized it to fit you, with little drawings of pearls and sea stars that remind him of you along it. when not in use, it's on full display in your shared bedroom as your prized possession.

𓇼 finnick odair who loves play fighting with you. who lets you jump on him, giggling, and every now and then knock him down. who lets you straddle over him and playfully punch his shoulder. it makes him happy to see you having fun, not to mention he has fun too, laughing and manhandling you off of him.

𖦹 finnick odair who always wants you there with him when he's taking a bath or shower. he finds comfort in water itself, so it's only fitting that he gets to have his pretty girl with him. he always finds a way to make it fun when you two bathe, sitting on opposite ends of the tub and shaping little creatures out of the bubbles.

𓇼 finnick odair who can't even pretend he doesn't like it when you wear his clothes. it makes his heart swoop when he sees you walking around in one of his tee-shirts, especially when in public.

𖦹 finnick odair who randomly picks you up to kiss your lips whenever he wants. you two could be in a meeting in thirteen and he'll wrap your legs around his waist to get as much of your lips as he wants. it causes glares from haymitch and coin, but does he really care if you're right there with him?

𓇼 finnick odair who will always be there to be a shoulder to cry on. more than that, even. he'll comfort you until the end of time. finnick will always and forever be there to support you, help you after your nightmares, to kiss your forehead with passion and wrap has arms around your shaking body, acting as a shield from whatever horrors were brought by the capitol.

───★

ʚ © this subject is copyright to liseytopia. : do not copy, translate, or steal my writing. ɞ

#just a lil something while i work on my actual finnick fic!#: lisey's fics!#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x fem!reader #thg #thg finnick #finnick #finnick x reader #finnick x you

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randommultifandomrants · 18 hours

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Being a girl is: wanting to go to bed early but deciding to just get on tumblr/wattpad/Ao3 for a little bit and then end up finding a fic series that you really like and read until well past your usual bedtime then keeping on because it’s already past your bedtime. Then being mad when you wake up in the morning because you overslept your timer.

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murdrdocs · 5 months

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fem!reader; explicit content MDNI

your behavior is nothing short of desperate.

you know it. your hips canting up into the air, catching absolutely no friction yet you try and try.

finnick knows it, if the way he was looking at you is anything to go by. raised eyebrows that made his green eyes widen. pink lips parted as if he was going to say something.

johanna knows it, her face completely smug like you've seen before. yet, this time it's directed towards you. she has you in the palm of her hands. and she's proud of it.

“what? finnick hasn’t been treating you right?” johanna sends a smirk, but not to you. instead, it's directed towards finnick behind you. you hear his scoff, and you don’t have to see him to picture the look on his face.

eyes rolling, an unimpressed facade painted onto his pretty face, but his lips would be turned up at the corners with johanna’s suggestion. because you both know it’s the opposite. you figure that johanna, with the way she smiles to herself before getting to her knees, knows that as well.

surely the way finnick treats you is next to public knowledge at this point. at least very clear within your friend group, as you've never so much as complained about him, instead all smiles as finnick was consistently at your every beck and call.

as if to prove her wrong even more, finnick speaks. "you and i both know that's not true, johanna."

his doting behavior is why you're here in the first place, pursuing a fantasy that started off as a tipsy and sleepy hypothetical. your finnick loved you so much that he made it a reality. and he was as happy about it as you were, kissing at your neck and shoulders as his hand began to massage your exposed tits.

together, finnick and johanna have ridded you of your dress, the material nothing but a bunch of fabric in the corner of your bedroom now. it was too nice to be treated that way, and you maybe would've felt more towards its discarded state if johanna weren't pulling your panties down your legs.

she does so slowly, marveling at your cunt with each centimeter of revealed skin. when the fabric is halfway down your thighs, her lips open as if she's shocked. "i don't know..." she sings, letting you step out of the little number completely before she brings the cotton to her nose, taking a deep inhale and even going as far as to let her eyes flutter shut. "has she ever gotten this wet for you?"

punctuating her taunt, johanna slides two fingers between your folds. you shudder at the feeling, your legs pushing open even further which puts more weight on finnick. he's there to hold you up, slinking an arm around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

he stares down at the digits johanna displays, as do you, and you are embarrassingly wet. maybe you would've sunken into the slightly unpleasant feeling more if johanna hadn't bought her fingers to her lips, sucking lewdly and releasing them with an exaggerated pop!.

finnick is quick to put johanna in her place. “she's been wetter."

johanna hums, completely undeterred. she wraps one of her lithe hands around the back of your thigh, hoisting it over her shoulder as she situates herself between the inviting tower of your legs.

and before she dives in, she says one more thing, something you hope to be true.

"the night is still young."

#johanna mason x reader #johanna mason x fem!reader #johanna mason x you #johanna mason smut #finnicksworld!#finnick odair x you #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair smut #finnick odair #celeste writes thg

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coryosmin · 4 months

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The Hunger Games Characters x Fem! Reader

How certain characters would enjoy pleasuring you

MDNI - 18+ Content

Coryo - Coryo would take pride in being able to give you head. He will E A T your cunt like it’s the last meal he will ever be given. He’s so messy with it and loves when his lips are swollen and glistening from your juices. He would make you cum at least three times with his mouth before he would do anything else. More often than not, he gets pussy drunk because he just absolutely loves eating you out. He definitely moans against your pussy.

Sejanus - Sejanus is so into fingering and rubbing your clit. If you’re stressed, his sweet fingers will help you unwind. He knows exactly where your clit is, being able to make you cum in minutes by simply rubbing the nub. He knows exactly how to curl his fingers to get you to gush around him. He’s definitely the time to position you between his legs, your back to his chest, while he whispers VERY DIRTY things in a VERY LOVING tone in your ear while he fingers you hard.

Finnick - Finnick would be the type to enjoy pleasuring you by using anything and everything. He just loves to make you cum. His absolute favorite would definitely be with his cock. Being able to pleasure you with himself does big things to his dick lol. Him thrusting into you the way you absolutely need it. He would make sure to angle himself so he’s hitting that sweet spot repeatedly. And when you cum and clamp on his cock while gushing around him, it gives him so much pride to know that you enjoyed him so much. He wouldn’t cum until you’ve cum at least twice.

Peeta - Mans is sweet. I feel like he’s the type to want to cum together. So he would definitely want you to cum while he’s inside of you. He’d fuck you nice and lovingly (he’s so vanilla) while also rubbing your clit, playing with your nipples, kissing your neck. Anything to make you finish on him. He’d be the type to want you to cum only once and that once will be while he’s inside of you.

Johanna - THIS WOMAN MAKES ME FERAL OKAY. FIRST OF ALL, she is so into scissoring. Feeling her clit rubbing against yours makes you both cum so fast. It’s just so hot to hear the wetness of both of your cunts dripping with arousal. She would be the type to make you cum in three different ways in one night - fingering, eating you out, and then scissoring. She wants you to be withering for her, to know that only she can give you such pleasures.

If you have any requests, feel free to ask!

#fanfic #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #fem!reader #sejanus plinth #peeta mellark #Finnick odair #johanna mason #coriolanus snow x reader #sejanus plinth x reader #peeta x reader #finnick odair x reader #coriolanus snow smut

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asterias-record-shop · 11 months

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—𓆩[in our next life || EPILOGUE]𓆪—

𓆩[masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Finnick Odair x Fem! District 4 Victor! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut, slight angst

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 1.7K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Peeta and Katniss weren’t the first to fall in love after the games. That title went to you and Finnick, your mentor after you were Reaped at the age of fifteen two years after Finnick. After being dragged back into the Games with the Quarter Quell, you both are determined to stop it, no matter what- especially if one of you would gladly sacrifice themselves for the other.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - that I know of, there is none! maybe besides cursing(?) but it's pure fluff, just let me know if you think i should add anything!

Ten years later…

This would be the second rope being tied around your wrist, to the same man. Things were different now; the games were over, Finnick built you that house on the river bank, and you had a son this time too.

Your dress was similar to the one you had before, especially because Cinna designed this one too, but this time, it was much smaller than the ballgown you had before. It was still poofy, yes, but this time it was lined with pearls taken from your first dress in strands of gold. Your hair was pulled into your preferred style, a flower crown of white camellias, pearls stranded in your hair as well.

You probably loved this more than your first outfit, a white bouquet in your hands as well. You were going to cry even more this time, you were sure of it. When someone knocks, you turn with a quick confirmation for them to come in, Katniss peeking her head inside. “Someone wants to see you…”

You giggled as your son ran in, gasping loudly. “Momma, you look so pweety!”

You laughed at his childish dialect, smoothing down the front of your dress. “Yeah? You think papa will like it?”

He nods his head vigorously. “Yeah! And if he doesn’t, he’s crazy!”

You giggled, offering your empty hand. “Wanna walk mommy down the aisle?”

He continues to nod, running over. “Momma, I’m glad you’re getting remarried. That bracelet is dirty.”

You laughed, nodding with him. “Is it baby? Well good thing papa’s getting me another one, right?”

“Yeah!”

You named your son Atlas, and for heaven's sake, he came out exactly like Finnick. Golden hair and bright sea blue eyes, a perfect smile and the freckles you loved since you were a child.

He takes your hand, leading you out the room as Katniss follows behind. “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

You smiled back at her, giggling. “Thank you, Katniss.”

You walked out the back door, stepping down the steps of the large wrap around porch Finnick had built himself. The second you stepped into the meadow of different kinds of wildflowers, all of the memories came flooding back.

“Finnick, we’re not supposed to be here!”

You whisper yelled at him as he dragged you to the edge of District 4, laughing.

“So? Come on, we’re almost there!” He pulls you harder, groaning. “Y/N, don’t be a scaredy-cat!”

You groaned. “My mother will kill me.”

He snorts. “Fuck your mother.”

You gasped, slapping his bicep before he sharply tugs you forward, a gasp falling from your lips before you screamed out as you both began rolling down the hill. His hand keeps your face in his neck as he laughs, your arms wrapping around him as his other hand holds your side.

You finally get to the bottom, Finnick laughing like the funniest thing in the world just happened as you sit on his chest, looking down at your grass stained dress. The Reaping would happen in a few days, and your mother had just bought you this dress. She would kill you if you came home like this.

“Finnick, my dress is all dirty!” You whine as he sits up.

“You’re so over dramatic, darling. We can clean it when we get back, look at all the flowers,” he says, smiling as he picks one and puts it behind your ear. “I know they’re your favorite.”

You couldn’t help but giggle as you picked one and tucked it behind his ear. “My favorite wildflower, Finnick. Not my favorite in general.”

He laughed, clearing his throat. “My apologies, your majesty, your favorite wildflower. Is there any way you could possibly forgive me?”

You giggle, humming. “I mean… I guess so,” you say, making him grin before you boop his nose. “But it’s gonna cost you.”

He starts to blush, but hums. “Oh yeah? What?”

You purse your lips, letting out a soft ‘hmph’ as you fix yourself on Finnick’s lap. “Well, if I’m your highness, that means I’m queen, right?”

He purses his lips in response, nodding. “Yes, it does.”

“Well then, you can be my knight. To protect me and stay with me for the rest of my life. Sounds good?”

He smiled widely, nodding. “Sounds good. I’ll be your knight, Y/N?”

You put up your hand, offering your pinky. “Promise?”

He smiled, nodding as he wrapped his pinky around yours before pushing his hand up. “Lock it.”

You do, watching as he kissed your overlapping thumbs before doing the same. “You can’t break it now, Finnick!”

He nods before smirking. “Y’know, we just shared saliva.”

Your brow ruffled. “No we didn’t.”

“You kissed after me,” he teased, chuckling. “That means you got some of my saliva in your mouth.”

You blushed madly, quickly wiping your lips. “Finnick! Don’t say that!”

He laughed as he pressed his face into your neck. “Oh come on! Knights and queens belong together.”

You purse your lips. “No, kings and queens belong together.”

“Knights and queens make better pairs,” he says immediately before humming. “Y/N, I want to do something.”

Your brow ruffled. “Okay?”

He shook his head. “With you. If you don’t like it, you can tell me to stop and I will, I promise, but I’ve been wanting to do it with you for a while.”

You nodded. “Okay, I will. What is it, Finnick?”

He blushed madly, cheeks turning a bright red as he looked away. “C-Can you close your eyes?”

You do, closing them tightly before something soft lands on your lips. You don’t realize it at first, but Finnick was kissing you. Your lifelong crush was kissing you.

You don’t open your eyes until he pulls away, slowly finding his eyes as he swallows. “W-Was that okay?”

You look at him confused. “Did you just kiss me, Finnick?”

He looked away, mumbling under his breath. “Yeah, yeah I did,” he was blushing madly. “I just… I‘ve been wanting to do it for a while and-”

You pressed your lips to his before he could even finish, holding his cheeks before pulling away. It was soft and quick, but that’s all you really needed. You could feel your cheeks heating up as you rub them softly, clearing your throat. “I uhm… you don’t have to ask next time.”

He starts to smile. “So I can kiss you whenever I want?”

You shove him. “Of course not, dummy! We’re not boyfriend and girlfriend!”

His smile falls. “Why not?”

Your brow furrowed. “You… you want to be?”

“Yeah, I do,” he says quickly, fixing the flower over your ear. “I want to love you until the end of time.”

“Forever?” You ask and he nods.

“And when we meet again in our next life.”

You inhaled shakily as you stood at the end of the white carpet rolled out between the chairs of people, only the most significant you truly wanted to come. Finnick stood on the dock, hands ringing together nervously before he saw you. His jaw drops as he stares, Cinna grinning as he stands between him and where you were going to stand.

Mags had sadly died a few months before Atlas was born, peacefully with you and Finnick by her side. Of course you were heartbroken, but you also knew you would meet again in your next life.

The drums started to play as Atlas tugged on your hand making you look down at him.

“Mama, are you okay? Daddy’s crying.”

You look at Finnick who, sure enough, had tears rolling down his cheeks before he wiped at them.

“Yes baby,” you whisper, your own eyes filling with tears. “Yes, I’m okay. I’m amazing, I’m so, so happy.”

“Well, come on!”

You laughed as he tugged you down the aisle, waving at everyone as Haymitch and Effie grin at you. You smiled widely at them, wiping at your cheeks as you finally got to the dock where the drums stopped.

Atlas ran around you both, running to Cinna who sighed loudly.

“And at last, the day has finally come,” he says, announcing it to everyone here. “Where the King and Queen of Panem are getting married again.”

You can feel the rope being wrapped around you both, your hand holding one end as you stare up at Finnick who leaned his forehead against yours. Cinna continues to speak as Finnick takes the other end, Katniss and Peeta stepping forward to do the same thing they did the first time, but this time, they cut off the previous rope from your wrists before melting the second one around again.

“I have a gift for you both,” Cinna says as the rope stays wrapped around you both, slowly taking a box from his pocket before opening it. “To add onto your rings.”

You gasped as he took out two more rings, one a thinner band with a pearl on it made for Finnick while the other was a vine-shaped gold with a pearl on it as well. He slips them both onto your fingers as you look up at Finnick, eyes watering as he sighed. “I fucking love you, Y/N Odair. I love you so much.”

You giggled, stroking his cheek. “I love you, Finnick Odair. Until the end of time, and in our next life.”

He sighs, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Until the end of time and in our next life, darling.”

“Give her a real kiss, Finnick!” Effie shouts, Atlas groaning in disgust as Finnick pulls his hand from the rope, both of his strong palms resting on your jaw as he pulls you closer, kissing you passionately.

You could taste the slight saltiness from the tears, but you groaned against his lips as you pulled him closer, lower. Everyone cheers as Atlas groans once again.

“Stop being nasty!”

You giggle as you pull away, smiling up at him again. “I love you too, Finnick Odair. Until the end of time, and when we meet in our next life.”

Regular taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪 𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪 𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪 𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪 𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪 𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪 𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪 𓆩[@c78r]𓆪

In our next life taglist: 𓆩[@poppet05]𓆪 𓆩[@ennycutie]𓆪 𓆩[@jewelrybean25]𓆪 𓆩[@arzua10]𓆪 𓆩[@savagemickey03]𓆪 𓆩[@ok-boke]𓆪 𓆩[@instabull]𓆪 𓆩[@maxinehufflepuffprincess]𓆪 𓆩[@starryeddie]𓆪 𓆩[@ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations]𓆪 𓆩[@taestrwbrry]𓆪 𓆩[@iveraly]𓆪 𓆩[@b1llzb1tch]𓆪 𓆩[@avoxrising]𓆪 𓆩[@aquawhore]𓆪 𓆩[@luna-ann]𓆪 𓆩[@maliaaaa]𓆪 𓆩[@jyessaminereads]𓆪 𓆩[@hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere]𓆪 𓆩[@crowleysqueenofhell]𓆪 𓆩[@alexa-33]𓆪 𓆩[@wh0re4life]𓆪 𓆩[@duwcsd]𓆪 𓆩[@nyainterlu4ee]𓆪 𓆩[@magical-spit]𓆪

omg. OMG. THAT'S IT! THAT'S IT! OMG!

This is the last chapter, omg. With a heavy heart, this is (kinda) the end! I will start taking requests for Finnick in this universe, the link to request is in at the top! Don't be shy my loves!

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targaryenluvs · 4 months

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LONELY WATERS

pairings: dark!finnick odair x fem!reader

summary: even if you resided in the fishing district you only ever got close to the water for swimming late at night. it was your favourite time of the day, but it leaves you open and vulnerable to predators and people, the water won’t save you. silly girl, don’t you remember? finnick odairs a champion swimmer.

warnings: nude swimming, nc voyeurism, stalking, scaring someone, inappropriate touching, chasing in waters, threatening and manipulation?? false misconceptions about victors, nc kissing and implied sexual intimacy and technically kidnapping?? (not forever) passing out from exhaustion due to sexual relations

a/n: THE VOICES 👹👹 italics is your thoughts!!! not proofread!

the water was cold, just how you liked it.

you’d been taking care of your cousin davine who’d literally put a hole in her finger trying to spin around the finnick odair’s trident since it was on display in a local gallery. but she’d overestimated her strength, let go of it whilst it was still in the air and it sliced her good. you met her outside as you’d been getting groceries and scolded her the whole way to the hospital.

“are you crazy? did you honestly think you could handle such a weapon on a whim? why the hell would you want to hold it anyways it’s just a trident.” you investigated as she whined and moaned, “why wouldn’t i want to y/n? it’s finnick! i just didn’t know it’d be that difficult.” you sighed as you halted her walking, bending down to look up at her, “i know it seems super cool okay. but the things he went through? the reason he has that trident? not cool. don’t idolise the games and the victors. the games are barbaric and those poor victors live their lives because the capitol lets them. i don’t want you anywhere near them okay? they’re dangerous.”

davine shook her head, “how? they’re just victors, they had to kill to win the games you know that y/n.” you sighed again, “they’re not dangerous because of the games they’re dangerous because of their time in the capitol. they care about themselves, after the hunger games they’ll probably do anything to keep themselves safe. act nice to us, earn our trust and support i- it doesn’t matter, just try not to go around him okay?”

finnick was watching you from the balcony as you explained your worries to davine. now now, who’d gone and told you all those lies? he wasn’t dangerous, as long as you were on his good side.

honey, he’d show you dangerous.

as you took off your dress you couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on you, so you stopped. your head zipped around , trying to look for a glimpse, a person, an animal, something. but you couldn’t see anything. and that should’ve been your first sign. someone that you could hear but not see.

as you lowered yourself into the water you felt at ease. the water was the one place you were by yourself. you thought you were. everyday had you, and everyone, surrounded by people all day. but here? peace.

“isn’t it dangerous at this time of night honey?” finnick emphasised as your hands shot up to cover your top half. “don’t hide now, i was enjoying the view.” you couldn’t believe your eyes, finnick odair, in the flesh. god the screens didn’t do him justice. i get it davine, why you wanted to hold the trident. his eyes were so green.

“w-what are you doing here?” finnick tilted his head as he crossed his arms, still on the land, “can’t i come down here? if i knew it was reserved i wouldn’t have come, but it isn’t, and i can do as i please. you never know who’s around sweetheart, not the best idea to come out alone.” you didn’t even notice that he was slowly taking off his own clothes till he was walking your way. “i swim here every night. no one’s ever here.” he was in the water now, and you’d begun to slowly back away, the water engulfing you slowly. chest, shoulders, neck. “well that’s going to change, don’t you wanna swim with me?” you shook your head as he mimicked you, shaking his head slowly, “no? you gonna stop me?” he was making his way towards you, cutting through the water like glass.

you were hyperventilating and your mind was foggy. you obviously weren’t thinking properly since instead of swimming towards the shore you swam further out. you could hear his laugh as you began to swim, “do you really think you can swim away from me? the place in which i excel? i’ve chased down tributes in water, fit, healthy and much more athletic than you. trust me, you’ll tire yourself out before you get any further.” but you didn’t listen, all you could do was try.

the rocks were large and created a huge wall, it was a rocky area of the beach which you were using as refuge from finnick. if there was one thing you never expected it was this, being chased by finnick odair through opens waters for- what, exactly? you had no clue.

you’d mistakenly began to relax, thinking you’d lost him when you dove under the water but the unrelenting pressure on your ankle had you wailing as you were yanked under the water. your eyesight was muffled and muggy, but you knew who’d dragged you under. finnick swam back to the surface, his hands right around you.

“should’ve listened to me.” he smiled, perfect teeth on show, barely puffed out, where as you felt as if your heart was going to burst from exhaustion and fatigue or plain fright. “now, i’m going to make sure, you remember me, remember what i’m going to do, and will continue to do.” you were sure his face was going to haunt you, everywhere you went. every time you saw a trident, even a damn fork. blonde hair and green eyes would send you spiralling every time you plucked them out from a crowd.

your tears were hot and streaming as you felt his hands roam, lower and lower. the rocks cut you as he pushed you into them, manipulating you into the positions he wished for. your body was so cold but his presence was like fire, his hands were warm and undeniable as they grabbed and kneaded at soft skin. his kisses were unrelenting and you were sure he’d leave a trail of bruises all over you in his wake.

you’d passed out at some point of the night, you were in the water, then on the rocks, then on the land yet you woke up in an unfamiliar home. maybe someone found you laying on the ground, you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d left you there, naked and ruined.

what were you going to do? if he approached you in public? in private? in your home? who in panem would believe your truth? that finnick odair, the capitols darling was capable of such unbelievable, vile actions. they’d probably turn it around you. he’d let them.

at least he’s not here. you thought to yourself, you could do your best to avoid him. it’s not like there aren’t plenty of women, gorgeous girls that could take his attention. he’d probably picked out another girl to go after, to charm and take the normal way.

your thoughts had taken you away from the present, the present being you laying besides someone. their muscular arm draped over your waist, the sheets covered your and his bare body. “had a good sleep did you?” finnick murmured into your neck as you froze up.

no no no no no. please no.

“yes honey. you’re here with me. now let me hold you.” he whispered as he pulled you into his chest, cautious of your patched up cuts. everything hurt. your shoulders, arms, thighs. your hands traced over the bite marks, the skin all over you, tainted.

just wishing for lonely waters in which you could relax led to you be trapped in his arms. and he sure as hell wasn’t letting you go. not when you brung him so much pleasure, yeah, he’d be using you for a while, if not forever.

if only you’d been nicer.

#dark!finnick odair x reader #dark!finnick odair x fem!reader #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick odair imagine #hunger games x reader #finnick odair x female reader #finnick odair x fem!reader

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bruisedboys · 5 months

Text

thinking about finnick odair and casual dominance !!

him taking your jewellery off for you before you sleep because you always forget to, and even if you do remember he’ll always offer to help. (he likes how his fingers on your skin always result in goosebumps and a shiver you can’t quite hide.)

him retrieving things off high shelves when you can’t quite reach them, a hand on you lower back as he stands behind you, easily snagging whatever you wanted and handing it to you with a lopsided smile. the soft “thank you, finnick,” you give him is enough to make his heart swoop.

him making sure you’re eating and drinking properly, and then making you something to eat if you haven’t. speaking of, he always wants to do all the chores while you “sit there and look pretty for me, sweetheart.” and if you try to help he’ll just manhandle you back to your seat, hands firm on your shoulders. “do you ever listen?” he’ll ask you, a brow quirked, something like affectionate amusement in his smile.

he’s a little bossy but only because he cares! and you don’t mind it very much (or at all, really) you kinda like when he tells you what to do <3

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jahayla-parker · 3 months

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FINNICKKKKK🥰

okay what about... r and fin both being victors from district 4 and sent into the quarter qwell? and r being really shy and quite and fin is super protective of her. maybe an established relationship?

The Timid Tribute : Finnick Odair x Reader

(Finnick Odair x Victor!Reader / Finnick Odair x Tribute!Reader / Finnick Odair x District4!Reader / Finnick Odair x Gf!Reader / Finnick Odair x fem!reader)

Descr: 6k wc, Finnick and his timid girlfriend find themselves in the arena for a second time thanks to the 75th Hunger Games being the 3rd Quarter Quell. Despite the odds and their allegiance to protect Katniss Everdeen, Finnick will do whatever it takes to protect y/n.

Warnings: Hunger Games type warnings, violence, trauma, blood and injuries, fighting, death(s) [not main characters], and related. Please let me know if I missed anything!

The News

“Honey?” Finnick frowned. He watched as y/n continued to sit in complete silence, just staring at the now-black screen. “Please talk to me,” he encouraged softly while he scooted closer to her on the couch. “Come on,” he pleaded as he cautiously pulled her to him, hoping to avoid startling her. Finnick knew they were both already drowning in emotions over having heard the announcement from the Capitol just moments ago. Yet, the anguish in his heart amplified when y/n’s timid eyes flickered over to him as she visibly tried to maintain her composure. The second he saw the wobbling of her bottom lip, Finnick nodded emphatically and rubbed her back. “I know, I know,” he cooed.

“Finn…,” y/n attempted, her voice cracking. She tried to swallow the tight lump in her throat. “F-F-Finn, I… can’t, I can’t,” she whimpered, still staring at the blank television screen despite the way Finnick had her head resting on his chest.

“You won’t, okay?” Finnick vowed, his heart beating rapidly. “Chances are, you won’t get reaped,” he argued. He wasn’t sure if that was necessary statistically true. But, it was what y/n needed to hear. And what Finnick needed to be true.

“Finnick,” y/n sighed, leaning back to look at her boyfriend’s face. “M-Mags can’t,” she pointed out as she shook her head. Mags was District 4’s oldest surviving victor and far too sweet for her own good. “Annie, she… still isn’t herself yet,” y/n added, explaining why the only other surviving female victor apart from herself was not a viable option to be reaped for the Quarter Quell.

“What are you saying?” Finnick croaked, his normally honey-coated voice coming out gruff from fear.

“Finn..,” y/n whined softly. She didn’t want to have to say it. Hell, she didn’t want to even think it. But, realistically, she couldn’t let Mags or Annie be reaped. While understandably none of them would want to return to the deadly arena they once won, y/n was the only one who stood a chance. As victors of their own games, none of them were supposed to have to fight in the Games ever again. But, unsurprisingly, Snow and the Capitol changed the rules. As terrifying as it was to think about having to endure that trauma all over again, y/n knew she couldn’t stand by if Annie or Mags had their names drawn for the reaping. It was between the three of them. And while she loved them both, y/n had no faith in either of their survivals should they be chosen.

“No,” Finnick stated firmly. He sharply angled his body towards y/n. He shook his head. “Y/n, you’re not-,” he begged.

“It’s not like I want to,” y/n whispered. She felt horrible about it herself. And even more so when it came to what she was asking Finnick to be okay with. She sniffled as her guilt over worsening his predicament brought tears cascading down her face.

Finnick sighed deeply. He reached over and gently pulled y/n back towards him. “It could be Shaynee,” he argued weekly. No one had heard from the last remaining female victor in nearly two years. No one in District Four really knew if she was even still alive. But, Finnick had to hold onto the small chance that it wouldn’t be the love of his life going into the Quarter Quell. He didn’t want Shaynee to have to either. But, he’d easily admit he preferred it to be her rather than y/n.

Y/n nodded wordlessly against Finnick’s chest. She opted to sit their in silence for a moment, just enjoying his presence. As the overwhelming worry she’d had since hearing the news continued to alarm inside her head, she gripped onto Finnick tightly. “I can’t lose you, Fin,” she cried.

Finnick closed his eyes and tucked y/n’s head under his chin. “You won’t, honey,” he whispered, “okay?” His calloused and sea salt-dried hands caressed her back. “You’re always going to have me, angel”.

Y/n failed to keep her composure. She clung onto Finnick’s shirt as she sobbed. Leaning back, she gazed up at him, giving him a knowing frown.

Finnick read y/n’s unspoken argument and took a deep breath. “There are two other male victors, we’ll both be fine”. He was done having this conversation, done with this being their reality. He was done with everything that wasn’t just holding her and savoring her presence. So that’s what he did. Finnick lifted y/n into his lap and hooked his legs and arms around her as he lightly swayed side to side.

Reaping Day

Y/n timidly gazed over at Finnick from the female victors’ side of the stage. She was struggling to keep her eyes clear after having heard Mags be reaped for this year’s Quarter Quell. She knew Finnick didn’t want her to volunteer to take anyone’s place. But, when saw his evident anguish over their beloved Mags having been chosen, there really wasn’t much thought that had to go into her next move. Mags had been like a mother to him over the years. Mags was one of the only other people Finnick let himself get close to. He couldn’t lose her, and if Mags went into the arena, she wouldn’t come out. Y/n on the other hand, might actually stand a chance. “I volunteer,” y/n’s voice creaked out.

Y/n had spoken the words Finnick feared so quietly that the person drawing the victors’ names barely even heard her. Yet, Finnick’s ears had long ago been trained to pick up on y/n’s timidly soft voice. And this time, her words felt devastatingly loud. Finnick fought to move closer to y/n in order to stop her, but the peacekeepers promptly held him back.

As Y/n stood at the front of the reaping stage, she kept her eyes faced out at the crowd. She couldn’t bear to see Finnick’s anger, sense of betrayal, fear, and pain. She also couldn’t stand to see Mags’s reaction to y/n offering to take her place. Nor could she handle seeing Annie’s -while understandable- tears of relief in having escaped being reaped a second time.

Yet, when Finnick’s name was called out as the male victor headed back into the arena, her head whipped back to face him. Her knees shook as she struggled to keep standing. Her eyes were wide and already drowning in tears. All of her breath left her lungs, making her choked sobs silent.

Finnick of course hadn’t ever wanted to go back into the arena again. But, hearing his name called today didn’t phase him the way he had expected. To be fair, he’d expected that hearing it would’ve meant he’d be leaving y/n’s side. That it would’ve meant leaving her to the riots taking place lately in District 4. That he’d be forced to leave her to fend for herself while he was gone fighting for the ability to be to return to her. Only now, in reality, hearing his name read aloud from the reaping podium meant he could go with y/n. It meant he’d be able to protect her and see to it that she remain unharmed during this year’s games, at least to the furthest extent possible. Nevertheless, his heart broke as he witnessed y/n’s despair over him having been chosen.

The Capitol

Finnick glared pointedly at the female tribute from District 2. He was beyond furious with the tributes, mostly the careers, looking at y/n like she was prey as she wandered around the training facility. He knew that she came across as an easy target. And while he never judged her timidity, he knew he needed to put an end to it. She had to show that she was capable of holding her own against the other tributes. Which she was. They just hadn’t seen that yet. While he was not planning on separating from her at any point in the arena, he needed to make them understand the consequences of trying to harm her should it happen against his wishes.

Finnick smiled proudly at y/n as she cluelessly sipped on the water bottle he’d given her. She just finished unknowingly showing off her skills to a room full of leering competitors. He knew she never felt confident in her abilities, so instructing her to show them off wouldn’t have worked well for the two of them. So, instead, he simply encouraged her to train and freshen up on skills she hadn’t had to use in awhile.

“You look hot,” Finnick grinned, his hands on y/n’s waist.

“Still?” Y/n questioned, trying to figure out why the water hadn’t cooled her face. “Oh,” she giggled, catching on to Finnick’s flirtatious meaning. She playfully hit his chest, smiling as he took hold of her hands and pulled her to his chest.

Finnick chuckled and pressed a light kiss to the top of y/n’s head. He knew he was being rather forward with such an act, but he didn’t care. They were both headed to their potential deaths and he was going to cherish any time he had left with her. Plus, he knew it would act as a warning to the others that his alliance was with y/n. And as such, he figured it would help protect her even further.

Finnick’s nostrils flared as he fought to keep his protectiveness in check. He was backstage with y/n as she nervously waited for her turn to do her interview with Caesar. He knew that several of the male victors-turned-tributes around them were ogling at the lack of coverage from the gown y/n’s stylist had dressed her in for the evening. Finnick could read the impure thoughts and temptations in their eyes way too easily; having recognized those looks far too well. He used his torso to shield as much of her exposed body as possible as he held her gaze.

“Hey, angel,” Finnick cooed, tenderly guiding y/n’s head back towards him instead of on the screen playing back his interview and the message he had intended for her. “Just breathe,” he guided as he watched her try to keep the tears in her eyes from falling. “You’ll get through this and then I’ll make sure our mentors have y/f/f ice-cream ready when we get back to the dorms, okay?” He smiled at the faint grin that formed on her lip. “I’ll be right here, pretend like you’re just talking to me if it helps you connect with Caesar and the audience more, yeah?”

The Games

Finnick had agreed to Heavensbee’s proposed plan to help Katniss the instant they’d offered to get y/n and himself out of there alive. That had been Finnick’s only mission since the moment she volunteered in place of Mags. Now, he finally had a realistic way to make that happen.

Yet, that didn’t stop Finnick from panicking when he saw how far away y/n was when they rose on their pedestals into the arena. He was just glad she had agreed to listen to his guidance to stay away from the cornucopia. He knew she’d be upset that he himself went into that certain bloodbath, but he needed to get their supplies and to inform Katniss of their alliance.

Y/n scanned the arena, hoping to get an idea of the landscape before total chaos erupted. She had located Finnick’s pedestal the moment her eyes adjusted to the fake sun glaring down at them. So, while waiting for the countdown to end, she let her eyes search for any other information that might come in handy later on in the games.

When the game commenced, y/n ran along the stone path to reach the meeting place she and Finnick had discussed. They’d established they would meet at whatever the tallest item was between wherever their two pedestals rose. As she skillfully ran along the wet stones, she glanced over to see much distance Finnick had made so she could adjust her speed accordingly. Only, she caught sight of him making his way to the cornucopia.

Y/n huffed loudly and cursed Finnick under her breath. While they technically hadn’t explicitly agreed that he wouldn’t do anything stupid, like heading for the cornucopia on his own, before meeting up with her, she was livid. She knew why he’d done it, wanting to get himself a trident, and surely (a) y/f/w for her. But he couldn’t be doing that alone!

Y/n whipped her head around to check her left and right for any threats as she skidded to a halt on the stone path. She took a mental measurement of the distance from her location to the cornucopia at the center of the tribute pedestals and sucked in a breath deep enough to hold her through until she crossed that distance. She promptly dove straight into the water. She felt the drastic temperature change the moment she was under the freezing water. But, thankfully her time in District 4 had accustomed her to such.

Y/n peeled her eyes open and frantically swam towards the cornucopia, her fear for Finnick’s wellbeing driving her already impressive speed. Her body relaxed ever so slightly when she saw the refracted image of him above her on the shore. He was safe and not noticeably harmed. As she reached the edge of the cornucopia, she cautiously scanned the surface before pulling herself ashore.

“Y/n?!” Finnick panicked as he protectively pulled y/n’s wet body to her feet and placed her behind him. He quickly cornered her in the back area of the dome at the center of the cornucopia. That way she was shielded from any potential impending harm. “What are you doing?!” He scolded quietly, his eyes searching her for any visible signs of injury. “You agreed to-,” he began to remind her, stopping as his head whipped forward upon hearing someone scream.

When there were two simultaneous splashes and the screaming stopped, y/n let out a sigh of relief. “I panicked,” she explained, gripping Finnick’s wrist. “I'm sorry...I shouldn't have done that, you can look after yourself...I shouldn't have...I'm sorry."

Finnick sighed, and sensing there was no immediate threat, he turned around to face y/n. “No, no,” he whispered guiltily, her sorrow over having come to his defense evident in her eyes and shaky apologies. “Shhh, it’s okay,” he cooed, turning his wrist in y/n’s hand so he could hold hers. “I was just worried about you, angel,” Finnick explained, “it’s okay. Just stay here.”

“I can help,” y/n whispered, squeezing Finnick’s hand.

Finnick smiled lovingly down at y/n. “I know, I know you can,” he nodded. “Right now though, I need you to help by staying put, I just need to find Katniss, and then we’re getting off of this death trap,” he proposed. He kissed her forehead and placed a y/f/w in her hand before he turned around and headed to the entrance of the dome.

“You’re the girl who volunteered for the old lady that was reaped,” Katniss observed. “Right?” She asked, squinting at y/n.

Y/n bit her lip shyly and nodded. Her eyes flickered from Katniss’s gaze to Finnick’s uncertainly. When he smiled and nodded at her reassuringly, she let out a relieved sigh.

“Katniss,” Katniss introduced, holding her hand out towards y/n in symbolic gesture. “That was really brave of you,” she commented kindly.

Y/n sucked her lips in as she glanced at her ally’s extended hand. After getting nonverbal approval from Finnick, she accepted the girl’s hand and shook it. She noticed the expectant but nevertheless considerate look on Katniss’s face. “Oh,” she whispered bashfully. “Y/n,” she answered, offering a shy smile.

Finnick had taken any measures possible to keep y/n in his sights at all times. When their group ventured through the foreign terrain, he’d established y/n’s place as being between Katniss and himself. He elected to remain at the back of the group to ensure he always had eyes on her. By having her stay behind Katniss, he felt reassured that she wouldn’t be risking walking into a trap. He knew the deal they’d made with Heavensbee. But, that didn’t mean he was going to let y/n be put in danger along the way.

Finnick’s measures hadn’t accounted for y/n offering herself up to find Johanna though. As such, he was taken by surprise when she proposed the idea to Katniss as their group made a game plan. He’d tried to shut the notion down immediately, but it seemed y/n was holding her ground.

“I can find her, Fin,” y/n promised. Her fingers timidly picked at her cuticles as she waited for his response.

“We really shouldn’t split up,” Finnick argued, making his way back to her from where he’d been at helping Peeta sit back up after preforming CPR on their ally.

“One of us has to watch them,” y/n reminded him, nodding towards Katniss as she protectively knelt beside Peeta. “But, we also need to find Johanna,” she defended. Johanna was in on the alliance and the sooner their group was together in the arena, the better. They would be less of a target and more of a threat as a unit. Not to mention, y/n wanted to help the girl as she had become friends with Johanna over the years after winning her games.

Finnick hated the idea of y/n parting from his side. Not because he feared she couldn’t defend herself. But because he wanted to be there should she need backup. And because he simply despised the notion of being away from her for any length of time. Yet, Finnick wouldn’t risk making her more timid. Y/n was right about them needing to split up. And she needed to believe in herself in order to handle this. Regardless of if she stayed with the latest victors or if she went to find Johanna.

Finnick scanned y/n’s body once more as he yet again checked to ensure she was fully prepared to venture out on her own. He ensured she had proper attire for any situation she may encounter, a full array of weapons on her, her shoes and hair tied tightly, etc. Only after he’d established an agreed-upon time for her to return, or at least for her to make an audible signal that she was fine if she couldn’t return yet, did he let her leave to find their friend.

Finnick groaned as he hobbled over to the sandy shore to rest his body. He knew his troubled mind wouldn’t be able to rest, not with y/n still not back yet. But his body desperately needed it after what he and the District 12 victors had endured from the poisonous fog and fighting off the monkey mutts.

As Finnick carelessly plopped himself onto the sand, he stared out at the waves. Despite the water being extremely choppy due to the wind, it was nothing in comparison to the turmoil inside of him. Hours had passed. It had been not only hours since the time y/n had parted from his side, but also several hours since the time she was to return or at least alert him to her safety. Yet, she’d not returned to him yet. He realized it might be in part of them having to leave their original location due to the poisonous fog. But, that didn’t explain why he hadn’t heard or seen anything that signaled she was trying to communicate with him.

Y/n walked blindly as Johanna guided her to the water. Her vision was completely obscured from the surge of blood that had poured down on them. The gamemakers had decided to trap them in a rainstorm of blood. Where they’d got the blood in the first place wasn’t even something y/n had the capacity to question. The simple fact that she was soaked in blood that had been pouring on them for an hour straight was torturous enough.

Finnick tossed aside the seafood he’d caught for himself and their District 12 allies when he caught sight of y/n. She was covered in some dark yet shimmering substance, her right hand clasped in Johanna’s as they waded into the water roughly a mile down the shore. Finnick dashed across the sand towards them. His pace tripled when he was close enough to realize the substance coating y/n was blood.

“Y/n? Y/n!” Finnick screamed. “Are you okay?! Where have you been?!” He questioned after she timidly whispered his name in a relieved tone as he neared them.

“Not now Finnick,” Johanna greeted, shaking her head warningly at him as she continued to guide y/n further into the water.

“I found Johanna,” y/n murmured shyly, coughing when the blood still dripping down her head entered her parted lips.

Finnick frowned and rushed into the water. “Hey, hey, hey,” he soothed, cupping y/n’s cheeks in his palms. He squinted worryingly when she flinched briefly at his touch, as if she didn’t know it was him. “Honey, tell me what happened,” he requested.

“Y/n got us out,” Johanna answered, squeezing y/n’s shoulder before heading towards the others. “But that’s when the rain started,” she explained, shaking her head in annoyance. She scooped up water and poured it over Wiress’s head. “We thought it was water… It turned out to be blood. Hot thick blood that was coming down”.

“It was choking us,” y/n spoke up, reaching out and feeling around until she was able to clutch onto Finnick’s forearms. “We were stumbling around…gagging on it…blind,” she whimpered.

Finnick heard Johanna continue to explain the events, but he’d heard what he needed to know already. He rubbed y/n’s cheek with his thumb, frowning sympathetically at the amount of blood that came off with his touch. “You’re safe now,” he promised. “Let’s get you cleaned up, love,” he offered, taking her hands in his.

“You’re okay, keep your eyes closed, honey,” Finnick instructed as he guided her to her knees in the water. He whispered various soothing sentiments as he tended to her, being sure to get all of the blood off of her. She didn’t need any lingering visual reminder of what she’d just gone through.

Finnick watched y/n’s chest closely as he tried to gauge her breathing. She was balled up between him and Johanna. Her head was resting on the edge of his shoulder as her hands were hooked around her knees. Finnick caught Johnna staring at him questioningly and he shook his head.

“Do you want me to make the others leave?” Finnick asked, worried by y/n’s shallow and quick breathing. “Or we could go for a walk, get some fresh air,” he offered. He figured Katniss trying to decipher Wiress’ rambling wasn’t helping y/n clear her mind.

Y/n shook her head. She could do this. She had to do this. She couldn’t fall apart now, they still had so long to go. She tried to take a deep breath, the intensity of its choppy sound making her panic worsen.

“Hey, just breathe,” Finnick guided, spinning around on the sand until he was seated in front of y/n. “Sugar, look at me, look at me,” he whispered, tilting her head up. When her eyes met his, he smiled supportively. “In and out, okay? Copy me”.

Y/n smiled tiredly as Finnick returned to her side. “Thank you,” she hummed shyly. She felt her already stabilizing heart rate relax further as his arms wrapped securely around her.

“I’m never letting you leave my side again,” Finnick vowed. “I was so worried,” he confessed as he rested his head on y/n’s.

Katniss had informed their group that the arena was set up like a clock, and they agreed to head to the Cornucopia to gather weapons, as well as to scan the area and verify her theory. The whole way there, Finnick was being overly protective of y/n. He knew she was already bouncing back from the blood rain, but still wished she could have more time to recover from the mental impacts of it before they had to head to such a risky location in the arena. As such, it wasn’t until Johanna had scanned the back of the cornucopia for threats that he let go of her hand so she could move freely.

Their group huddled over a diagram of the arena Peeta had drawn in the sand as they reviewed the different threats in each sector. Y/n felt eyes on her when Katniss asked if she’d seen anything during her time away from their group. She smiled faintly in appreciation to Johanna when she answered for y/n that all they’d seen was blood.

“It doesn't matter,” Peeta reassured y/n, sensing her remorse over not having known more information about the arena. “If we know which sector is active, we’ll be safe,” he concluded, standing up from his kneeling position in the sand.

“Yeah, relatively speaking,” Finnick remarked, unable to be as optimistic as Peeta given the hourly threats weren’t their only trouble.

Y/n’s eyes snapped away from Finnick at the sound of Wiress’ gasp. She pulled a knife out of her pocket and threw it at Gloss as he stood behind Wiress. She frowned as she noticed that despite her knife and Katniss’s arrow having struck Gloss flawlessly, the man had already taken Wiress’ life.

Finnick moved forward to keep y/n from running to Wiress as the woman collapsed to the ground.

Y/n tactically shoved Finnick aside, spinning to strike Cashmere with her newly obtained trident as the District 1 victor charged towards him. She knocked the tribute to the ground and they promptly wrestled against each other.

Finnick went to help y/n after having realized why she’d pushed him aside. Only, he found himself having to fight off Brutus instead. He growled as he attempted to finish the battle quickly.

Finnick had barely rose back up from his knees after a blade seemingly tossed by y/n scraped Brutus’s shoulder and scared him away when Peeta was running after the monster of a victor. He stopped Peeta’s offensive move, knowing he’d easily be outmatched by the District 2 tribute. He shoved Peeta’s resisting frame back as his eyes searched the cornucopia for y/n. Just as his eyes found y/n’s tousled hair, he was knocked down as the ground underneath him began to spin.

Y/n gasped as she was suddenly thrown off of Cashmere as the cornucopia rotated. Her fingers frantically searched the damp rocks for a place to hold onto. Just when she thought she’d found one, a slab of metal flung off the dome and knocked her hands off of the thin grasp she had on the structure of the cornucopia. She let out an uncharacteristic scream as her body tumbled down the wet foundation towards the water. It wasn’t the water that worried her, it was how fast the surface was spinning above the water that was the problem. If she were to hit the side of it on her way down, she’d suffer the same fate she just watched Cashmere endure.

“Y/n!” Finnick shouted upon hearing her scream. He held tightly onto the surface as he mentally pleaded for y/n to be okay. He instinctively caught Peeta when his body slid down the rocks beside him, keeping him afloat without having to shift his mind off of thoughts about y/n’s wellbeing. His blood ran cold as he heard his love let out another scream.

“Y/n! No!” Johanna screamed, futilely reaching towards the surging water below her. She and Katniss were both still struggling to stay on shore, but y/n had been flung off despite three victors’ best efforts.

Finnick found himself unable to breathe when the cornucopia stopped spinning. But it wasn’t from the surge of adrenaline, nor from the speed of the spinning motion. Instead, his fear and concern for y/n had rendered him breathless. He scrambled to his feet the second the surface stopped moving. The trident in his hand shook nervously as he frantically searched the island for her.

“Finnick!” Johanna shouted, waving him over.

“She fell in,” Katniss explained breathily, giving Finnick a remorseful look.

“F-Fi-,” y/n forced out, choking on the freezing water as she breached the shore. She hadn’t seen what happened to him after she’d thrown the blade at Brutus awhile ago. Long before the very ground they were on literally turned against them. She needed to know he was okay.

Finnick once again picked up on y/n’s quiet exclamation. His eyes snapped in the direction of her voice and he sighed in slight relief upon seeing her alive and breathing. He tossed his trident aside as he ran down the stone trail that lead to where she was. He helped her pull herself ashore, holding her to him immediately. “I thought I lost you,” he whimpered, tightening his grip on her frail and trembling body.

Finnick pulled back after a moment, his eyes searching y/n’s face. “Say something,” he begged. Her timidity was too concerning right now. “Are you hurt?!”

Y/n grabbed Finnick’s bicep as she staggered backwards to show him her leg. During her fight with Cashmere, she’d been stabbed in the thigh. Having been dragged down the rough surface of the cornucopia surely hadn’t done much to help the wound. She swallowed as she took note of just how much worse the injury now was.

“N…no, no, no, no, no, no, no,” Finnick rambled, his eyes watering. He dropped to his knees, his hands pressing firmly against y/n’s wound. “Y/n?” He questioned when he didn’t hear her whimper even slightly at the pressure. His eyes gazed up at her as he sucked in short choppy breaths. “Hey, I’ve got you, you’re going to be okay,” he promised, seeing the defeated look in y/n’s eyes.

“Keep your eyes on me,” Finnick instructed, adjusting his hand placement when Johanna ran up to him with a small first aid kit from the cornucopia. “O-okay? Honey,” he whispered, trying to prevent his voice from showing the fear that was surging inside him, “just focus on me… We’re going to be okay!”

As Katniss discussed the plan with Peeta, y/n walked over to Finnick. She tried to hide her limp, not wanting to worry him further. “Do you need anything Finn?” She asked softly as she set her hand on his shoulder.

Finnick quickly turned his head upwards, not knowing she was going with Katniss on the supply run. “No, love, where are you going?” He asked rhetorically. He knew where y/n was planning on going based off her question and the plan they’d all formed. But, he was hoping by asking she’d reconsider.

“She needs help,” y/n whispered shyly.

Finnick smiled lovingly at y/n but shook his head. “I’ll go with,” he proposed, knowing y/n wasn’t going to relent on her helping Katniss.

“Finny,” y/n sighed. “You don’t have t-“.

“I know,” Finnick said. He picked his trident up off the ground and took her hand in his other. “Ready?” He asked.

Y/n’s eyes shot open as she heard Finnick screaming her name. She whipped her head back and forth in search of her boyfriend. She silently ran after him as he bolted into the gathering of trees. She froze when she heard her own voice screaming for Finnick’s help. Jabberjays. “It’s not real!” She yelled, resuming her running. Only, the Jabberjays playback of her voice was far louder and Finnick had run too far for her to reach him.

“He can’t see you, stop!” Johanna explained, motioning towards the clear barrier between the hourly sectors as she held y/n back.

Katniss was on her knees, pressed up against the invisible divider between her and the others as the Jabberjays mimicked her sister Prim’s voice. The District 12 victor had been fortunate enough to see the others through on the opposite side of the divide before she was overtaken by the screaming. So at least she knew it wasn’t real.

Finnick wasn’t that lucky. He’d left Johanna watching over y/n as she and Peeta slept. Meanwhile he was only a few hundred feet away, teaching Katniss how to form some knots for the next step in their plan. That’s when the Jabberjays attacked. He hadn’t even thought to look back to where he’d last seen y/n when he heard her voice crying for him to help her. Instead, he instinctively rushed towards the sound. As such, he’d ventured further into the Jabberjay sector than Katniss and didn’t have the chance to see the others were safe, to see y/n was actually safe. Sure Katniss tried to remind him that they were just Jabberjays. But, he knew Jabberjays copied things they’d heard. Meaning y/n could very well be hurt somewhere in the arena somehow right now, begging for him to come to her rescue.

Tears streamed down Finnick’s face as he knelt on the damp grass. His hands were shaking as they covered his ears, his heart racing out of control. This had to be fake. The screams coming from the Jabberjays were excruciating. If y/n were truly screaming at that volume instead of the Jabberjays increasing it for the purpose of his torture, she had to be in a near-death state. He’d never heard her this loud before. It had to be fake. He couldn’t live without her. It had to be fake. It had to be.

“I know, I know,” y/n cooed as she embraced Finnick. She had wrapped herself around his crumpled frame the second the invisible barrier between them had absolved. “I’m here, handsome, I’m here,” she promised, gasping as he clung onto her.

“You’re sure you’re okay?!” Finnick repeated frantically, leaning back to see y/n. His eyes analyzed her several-hour-old wound on her thigh despite her nodding her head. He pulled her back into his embrace, pressing kisses all over her face.

Y/n gasped as Finnick jumped in front of her, intentionally trapping her between him and the tree behind her so she couldn’t take the arrow that Katniss had pointed at them instead of him.

“Katniss, remember who the real enemy is,” Finnick spoke calmly. He slid his foot backwards to signal for y/n to stop trying to wordlessly squirm her way out from behind him. He wasn’t going to let her try and block the arrow him hitting him. If one of them had to go down like this, it was going to be him.

Finnick didn’t need to see y/n’s expression to know she was too timid to say anything, her fear silencing her. Nor did he need words to know she was angry that he was making this decision for the both of them. But he had to.

Finnick let out a sigh when he watched Katniss move her bow away from him and point it towards the artificial sky above them. He felt y/n move to his side, his hand finding her hip and tugging her closer while his gaze cautiously stayed on Katniss.

As the girl from District 12 released her bow, Finnick moved y/n back. He guided them both to the ground before the impact could knock them down. Finnick saw y/n’s worried stare and he stroked her cheek before he covered her with his body. “Stay down honey, we’re getting out of this together,” he murmured lovingly.

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