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#finnick odair x female!reader
leviathanspain · 5 months
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Hello!! Would you be able to write a request for finnick? Just like he’s the capitols darling, reader is the capitals hound dog. Known to be fiercely protective and exceptionally violent and brutal. During the third quarter quell, katniss’ group is afraid of reader because they haven’t seen her all match, but they run into her and she defends them brutally against something? Sorry I know it’s specific:) love your writing!
my body is a cage
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finnick odair x reader
synopsis: his focus was protecting katniss, but he sleeps with an eye open as long as you’re still out there..
a/n: i made some changes, jus go with it lmao
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“she’s still out there, katniss.” finnick had made this pointedly to katniss, who wanted to go out hunting for the remaining victors with johanna. you were shrouded in mystery, out of all the victors, finnick knew the least about you.
“where would she be?” peeta looked at finnick, who sighed, shrugging, “the arena is different than the arena she won in, i assume somewhere low to the ground-“ finnick sweeped the beach, eye catching on a rustle in the bush, straight across from them, “and close.” he remembered now how you had won your games.
you had tracked all the tributes like prey, manipulating their surroundings to kill them, it had been one of the most invigorating games for the capitol ever. “she’s a bloodhound, probably sniffed us out before we realized.”
johanna watched the area that finnick had saw you, but still offered her commentary, “she’s brutal, katniss.”
katniss looked at them all, surrounded by skilled people yet found herself doubting their abilities, especially her own. none of them were sure they’d win, not against her.
“the careers are the least of our worries with her out there.” peeta noted. finnick looked at him and shrugged, “she might just kill them herself.”
they knew getting back on the island was a bad idea. katniss ducked at the sound of a mysterious voice, feeling as something flew past her head, stabbing cashmere right in the chest.
“get up.” katniss looked up to see you, standing over her. you had an array of weapons on you, and you were reaching for another one. katniss felt the panic in her throat until you launched it at enobaria, who had thrown herself at katniss. “get up!” your voice sounded more frantic and katniss did, struggling from keeping her eyes off of you.
suddenly the island began to spin.
your grip was loosening, and you groaned with slight fear as you felt the cold water thundering against your feet. katniss reached out for you, “grab my hand!” she screamed, but the water trashing drowned her out.
you could see her hand amidst all the water and grabbed it tightly, closing your eyes as the island slowed to a stop.
you sat on the beach, alone as the others argued over you. katniss had defended you, deciding she wanted you as an ally. but finnick and johanna deemed it too risky, “she could kill us all in our sleep, then what?” johanna had made that point as one of your methods, and you inhaled sharply.
finnick glanced at you, noticing the solemn expression on your face. he had known that expression far too many times, and it made him change his mind.
“johanna.” finnick called her name and sighed, “she saved her life. that’s not something we can just ignore, we don’t even know her.”
there was silence between them all, katniss had looked to johanna, watching as she fought internally before giving in. “i’ll go get her, maybe threaten a little.” she stood up, taking her axe with her.
finnick looked to katniss as johanna left, “i’ll keep an eye on her. for you.” he knew that once katniss settled on allies, she settled. her choices weren’t always the best, but somehow it would work itself out.
“why did you save her?” finnick had taken the first watch with you. johanna had convinced him, as just having you as watch would be ‘asking for it’.
you shrugged, “why not.” there hadn’t been much decision making on the island. it was either her or cashmere, and you didn’t see much of a choice.
finnick looked at you, “i don’t believe that.” his eyes slid themselves back to stare at the beach and you scoffed, “and why is that?”
finnick shrugged, “no one would just randomly save someone without an ulterior motive.” he said it like a fact and you smirked, “do you have one?”
“have one what?” he looked confused, obvious by the furrow in his brow.
“do you have an ulterior motive?” you repeated the full length question and watched as finnick practically whipped his head around.
“no.” he stated plainly, and you rolled your eyes, “i saw you saved katniss, similiar to how i did. you and johanna can’t just be doing this,” you glanced back to katniss and peeta sleeping, “for nothing. whatever it is, finnick, is an ulterior motive.” finnick pursed his lips, almost as if he couldn’t believe it.
“i’ll let you have yours if you let me have mine.” you finished, catching his gaze. finnick knew there were layers to you. you were different than most victors, your brutality is what made you like the rest of them, the willingness to kill. but you were turning out to be way more than what meets the eye. whatever your motive was, finnick sensed it wasn’t malice.
finnick settled to watch the sun rise upon your face, ending the conversation with a nod.
finnick watched as you sat by the beach. it had been post jabberjays, you, him and katniss had all been trapped with the birds, fluttering and screaming your names. now it seemed, like you had decided to decompress by the beach, just as he was going to.
he piled up next to you, close but far enough to give you a good amount of space.
it was then that finnick realized you had been crying, tears evident on your cheeks. he had heard katniss yell her sister’s name, and he had heard annie. you had just screamed in response, as if you were trying to drown out the birds with your own voice.
“i’m sorry.” you apologized to finnick, wiping your eyes as he settled down. you sniffled, watching as the waves moved.
“don’t apologize, there’s no need.” finnick spoke, “who did you hear?”
there was silence for a moment, until you spoke, “my best friend.” your mind shuddered back the sound of his screams and you laughed, painfully. “he’s been dead for years. i killed him.” you admitted, “he died because of a mistake i had made during the games.”
your mind flashed back to the games, where you had accidentally launched a knife to his chest, thinking it had been another tribute.
“he had spent all of his games searching for me. and once he found me, i had killed him.” it was cruel for him to be your district partner, for only one would survive, but you “never thought it would be me.” you glanced at finnick, who had been listening.
“it was supposed to be him.” you cried, “i killed everyone else to get to him, and when it was down to four, was when he came to get me.” you shook your head, “there is nothing in this world that i loved more than him, finnick. now that he’s gone, there’s nothing left for me.”
finnick shook his head, “stop. you know that’s not true.” he tried to comfort you, your words mirroring his own thoughts.
“that’s my motive, finnick.” you revealed, “my body is a cage, and i can’t stand to live in it much longer.”
johanna had woken up abruptly. she clutched onto her weapon, eyes glancing around before she settled on the two figures on the beach. she squinted and made out finnick’s hair, and you. the only two missing from the group. you had your head leaned on finnick’s shoulder, as the two of you watched the rising sun.
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wallwriterstuff · 10 months
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Healing Hands ||Finnick Odair x Female!Reader||
Warnings: Explicit content, 18+ Minors DNI. Mentions of non-consensual knife play and blood drinking. Descriptions of trauma, a lot of angst. Talk of Finnick’s prostitution. Fluffy ending. Female Reader so she/her pronouns and body descriptions used. 
Word Count: 4280
Summary:
Finnick tries to come home to her in one piece, but when he shatters, its only her that can put him back together again. 
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“Don’t talk.” He grumbled. 
In a matter of seconds since entering her apartment he had her pinned her against the wall, her wrists trapped above her head in one hand while the other tilted her mouth up to meet his in a bruising kiss. He pushed his knee between her thighs, forcing her to spread her legs for him as tongue, teeth and lips collided.
“Finni-“ he cut her off with a sharp nip of her bottom lip, eyes dark as he pulled back and shifted his hand from her cheek to her chin, gripping her jaw firmly.
“I said, don’t talk. Only time I should hear you is if you’re saying your safe word. Tell me.” He ordered. She stared at him with wide eyes, frozen for a moment as her mind raced with a thousand and one possibilities as to why Finnick could be so riled up, but they fled her head as quickly as they had come when he squeezed her jaw lightly and pressed her for an answer.
“Seasalt.” She breathed. Finnick’s eyes were not the gentle, seafoam green she was used to but more of a harder shade today. Whether it was lust or something else she wasn’t sure, as he was never usually so forceful with her, but she couldn’t deny the quiet thrill it sent through her to think about what he might do like this.
“Are you using it now?” he asked. There was her Finnick. For just a brief moment he shone through, his thumb grazing her jawbone as he intently studied her expression for any sign of discomfort or discontent with the situation he’d put her in. She swallowed, taking a deep breathe in through her nose before exhaling deeply.
“No, but…are you okay to do this?” she asked. Finnick’s expression faltered for only a moment, and she saw a storm of grief and aggravation in his eyes before he pushed it all down again, his eyes flickering to her mouth, then her forehead, anywhere but her eyes in case she saw through him.
“I need this.” He huffed, smothering her mouth once more with the sloppy heat of his desire. Whether it was driven by true passion or something else she wasn’t too sure but she let it lead her for now, the underlying hint of desperation in the way he licked into her mouth telling her just how much he really did need this. To feel her. To claim her. To know she was there and whole and his. With a groan, Finnick dropped her hands in favour of getting a firm grip on her thighs, hiking her up the wall and pulling her legs around his waist. She gasped, head thunking back against the wall as Finnick buried his mouth in the crook of her neck next, biting and sucking marks into the skin like he wanted to devour her whole and keep her safe inside him.
Finnick grunted, reaching up with one hand to forcibly tug her shirt away from her collar bone, mouthing his way along the bone before biting down on the fleshy part of her shoulder with a grunt. With a soft cry, she moved her hands from his shoulders to his hair, pulling on the carefully styled strands until they were tousled beyond saving. Heat simmered in her veins as he kissed her once more, setting her down and giving the hem of her shirt a firm tug in quick succession. Panting, she lifted her arms to oblige him, and one hand immediately went to her chest to pull and pinch her nipples stiff. With quiet pants, she kept one hand tugging at his hair while the other raked down his back, making him arch into her. She moaned, feeling his free hand push down into her pants and firmly press against her before he began to rub in harsh, quick movements.
“Fuck, Finnick!” she yelped, eyes screwing closed as she threw her head back, “Fuck, t-too much!” It was a dizzying, overwhelming experience to feel so much of him at once. His mouth was hot against her neck and collar bone, his hand warm and strong on her breasts while the rough and calloused pads of his fingers created a delicious kind of friction against her clit.
“Take it.” he growled, pulling back just enough to press his forehead to hers. There was a light sheen of sweat covering both of them know, his breath coming in harsh little pants as she floundered, desperately looking for something to cling onto and ground her. The ebb and flow of her pleasure was not gentle. It felt more like a shock, quick to come and quick to go, but it was building the all too familiar sensation in her gut all the same. She gasped, pleaded, attempted to move his hand away as her hips jerked, but it was all to no avail. Finnick didn’t move until he was ready to, his fingers dipping down and slipping in with ease. She was soaking wet and squeezing at the intruding digits, close to release and losing her mind at the overwhelming sensation of him abusing that one little rough patch that always bought her such relief.
“Finnick.” She whined, flexing her hips in time with the bruising pace he had set to try and ride his fingers. Finnick’s tongue darted out to wet his lips and she almost whimpered at the sight. He was practically ethereal in the fading light of the early evening. Bronze skin and golden hair glowing in the sunset, he was firm and lean against her, smelling of salty sweat and sea breeze and something so distinctly Finnick she could never quite name. The growl in his voice when he spoke to her was enough for her to lose all sense of rhyme and reason.
“Fucking take it!”
“F-Finnick! Oh!” the noises she was made were loud and obscene. Her thoughts scattered like dust in the wind. Her knees quivered and her body nearly folded in two, jerking and spasming as her orgasm hit her hard. Finnick’s pace didn’t let up, not until he was satisfied he had completely robbed her of the ability to walk, and when his fingers left her pants he immediately began smearing her essence over her lips in a silent demand for her to clean them off. Completely drunk on pleasure as she was, she obediently opened her mouth and began to suck the remnants of her orgasm from his fingers, her eyes locked with his as they both tried to catch their breath. Though her mind was a little hazy, relaxed and sated, she became aware of the feeling of pressure against her thigh, and her hand lazily drifted down to find it was Finnick rutting against her. It stopped when her hand found the straining material at his crotch, replaced instead by her hand massaging the outline of his arousal as his head tipped back slightly and his eyes fluttered closed.
She watched the way his mouth moved, opening and closing a little as he tried to form coherent words. His throat bobbed, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he exhaled sharply in a pant.
“Want you on your knees.” He rasped. She reached up to grasp his wrist, pulling his fingers from her mouth slowly until they came free with a quiet pop. His head slowly lifted, eyes watching her as she slithered out from between him and the wall and began to walk backwards, leading him by the hand into the living room. Finnick watched her every move with intense scrutiny, but obligingly helped her unbutton his shirt and push down his trousers before she pushed him onto the sofa. He landed with a huff, reaching for her eagerly as she bent at the waist to press a kiss to his lips. Finnick tried to chase her mouth before she pushed him back against the cushions, moving her mouth instead to his throat where a few gentle bites were left. She couldn’t mark him up, not when he had so many patrons who would become incensed if they thought their favourite toy had been played with by somebody else. It was an unfair part of their dynamic, but she had accepted that the price to pay for being with Finnick was having no claim to her lover whatsoever and wondering whose bed he was in on lonely nights.
Pushing the thoughts away, she focused on sucking the tension from his body via his cock.
The moment she sucked him into her mouth his hands flew into her hair, gripping tightly at the roots as a low moan of relief escaped him. She felt him throb against her tongue as she began to vigorously work him over, her tongue lapping at the underside of a swollen, sensitive head whenever she bobbed back up while her hand pumped synchronously at the base. He had been trimmed recently and the little pinpricks of hair stabbing into her fist were only a minor distraction compared to the symphony of noises escaping him. Finnick had always been one to enjoy quieter moments of intimacy, but the Capitol had changed even that about him – his patrons needed to know their pathetic attempts at pleasing him work ‘working’ after all. Not that he even managed to get it up for them without help. No, that was a privilege he tried to save for her and her alone, but there were days when the Capitol took even that from him to.  
“Fucking hell sweetheart,” he groaned, “Oh, oh that’s good, good fucking girl.” The rambling praise was new and it distracted her enough she wasn’t quite prepared for him to suddenly thrust up into her throat. She gagged a bit and had to pull back, taking a moment to catch her breath and clear her throat as Finnick thrust into her fist instead. His head had snapped up at the sound of her cough and he seemed tense, only relaxing again when she gave him a nod and a smile to let him know she was alright. She would have been lying if she had said that the praise hadn’t sent a bolt of need straight through her. She needed to hear it again, needed to make him feel good like that again. Closing her lips back around the leaking head of his cock, she gently tapped his hand to let him know he could control the pace, could take what he needed, and Finnick immediately set to work thrusting up into her mouth, a broken string of curses and whines escaping him.
She whimpered quietly, her jaw beginning to ache but the rest of her alight with want. When she peered up at him through her lashes, she got a halo of gold and glistening skin, and she was quite sure that nobody in this world or the next would have ever been able to say no to him. His chest heaved with every gasping breath, the toned muscles of his abdomen twitching and jumping beneath her fingers as she skated them up over his stomach. Finnick Odair was hers. No Capitolite would ever know the planes of his body better than her. No patron could ever tell him secrets he would hold as dearly as he held her own. Nobody could make him come apart like this.
Except he didn’t.
Without warning he pulled her off of him and urged her up, hands immediately shifting down to her pants.
“Don’t you want to-“
“You, need to cum in you.” He panted, his eyes pleading as her heart shot into her throat. This wasn’t the Capitol, there were no fancy injections or pills here to prevent childbirth, and she certainly wasn’t going to risk having to take those herbal teas that did terrible things to your insides just to ensure you wouldn’t add to the infant mortality rate. This wasn’t her Finnick. Her Finnick knew well how she felt about the mere thought of children in their current world and had never pushed the issue, even agreed with her.
“Seasalt.” She spoke firmly, clearly, and Finnick immediately froze, staring at her with wide, unfocused eyes. She crouched in front of him, taking her face in his hands and brushing her thumbs along his cheeks.
“I…I…”
“In another life, I’d say yes, but this is the one we live, so you do it on my back or stomach or no dice, you understand?” she said. Finnick swallowed thickly, leaning forward to press his forehead to hers and whispering an apology. She kissed the tip of his nose, then his lips, and gave him a little smile of reassurance. He reached up to cover her hands with his own, squeezing lightly.
“I understand. I’m sorry, I just…I need…I can’t…Snow…” he could barely stutter the words out, his expression more agonised than usual, and it was all the explanation she really needed. The President had threatened him many times before, and it usually resulted in some outward display of behaviour that wasn’t quite the norm for him. She pulled her hands back to push down her pants instead, letting the soft, cottony material pool at her feet so she could step out of them. Finnick kicked his pants away and was quick to welcome her into his lap, shifting so he could guide her down until she was laying beneath him. Heart fluttering at the sudden tenderness behind his gestures, she gave him an encouraging nod and smile that quickly melted away into a gasp as he pushed into her.
For a moment, they simply stayed that way, two people intertwined, chests pressed together, hearts ricocheting against each other. For a moment, there was no Capitol, or patrons, or Snow. For a moment, there was only their little home, the sound of waves lapping the shore outside their window, their own heavy breathing. Then, Finnick pulled his hips back and gave a firm thrust forward. Her legs tightened around his waist as he found himself a punishing rhythm, moving deep and strong inside of her like the pull of the tide, stealing her breath and giving her life anew with every careful movement. When he worshipped her with every inch of himself like this, she was certain he meant it when he told her he loved her.
“Oh baby.” She moaned, hips meeting his in perfect timing that only made that coil tighter and tighter. Finnick had been mouthing along her collar bone, muffling his own pleasured grunts and groans into her skin, but he pulled back just enough to skim his mouth along her ear, biting and tugging at her ear lobe.
“Right here sweetheart, so good,” he breathed, “Feels so good.” Temple pressed against hers, he increased his pace a little, squirming a bit to push deeper with his thrusts and be closer to her. He held her tighter, fingernails leaving little crescent moons on her skin, but she didn’t care. The gentle pulsing in her core and the sharp pin pricks against her skin mixed well together and simply pulled her that much closer to the edge. Another pant, a whine of her name, the blood in her veins roaring like an inferno as her heart enveloped the rest of her, an overwhelming adoration for Finnick and all his little idiosyncrasies as he dropped a hand to her clit and began to circle it. He was close then, closer than she was, but he’d stave off his own release until she came. It made a pleasant change and only egged her on towards her release knowing that he felt safe and good.  Finnick had been through so much physical trauma he didn’t always get to finish, no matter how desperate he was for it.
The gentle pulsing suddenly became a crescendo, her every muscle seizing and her mouth hanging open, a choked whine the only sound that escaped her as she clenched around him hard. Finnick groaned loudly in her ear, his thrust becoming a bit more erratic as he tried to push her through her high, her fingers raking down his back again. He pulled out suddenly, desperately fisting his cock until he painted her torso white, and then he almost collapsed on his side. The only sound was their shared, heavy breathing and the creaking of the sofa as he leaned against the cushions with a puff, his arm slung across the back of the seat so he could rest his chin on his bicep and watched the sun disappear over the horizon. She simply closed her eyes, basking in the pleasant buzzing in her head while her core throbbed its way through a few after shocks.
She pretended not to hear the first little sniffle. Finnick was never one to show her how hard he took it all if he could help it, only ever wanting her to be happy and safe, but he couldn’t shield her from everything, and when she opened her eyes to view him she saw the red rimmed irises staring solemnly at the moon as if it might deliver him some sort of freedom or redemption. If there was anything she knew for sure, it was that Finnick Odair did not need redeeming.
“Snow threatened me, didn’t he?” she asked quietly. Finnick tensed, and then he sniffed, wiping his eyes on his bicep briefly and nodding once. “How bad is the situation?” her question remained unanswered for a while, and she felt her frustration begin to grow when she was forced to call his name and press him for an answer.
“He was going to kill you,” he snapped, his face full of so much horror and anguish when he faced her that it broke her heart, “He was going to kill you if I didn’t…if they couldn’t…” he sucked in a deep breath, his voice wavering as he finally confessed to all that had happened to him before he got home. “They used me, Y/N. Degraded me and beat me and cut me and I just…I had to take it.”
Immediately, her eyes raked over his form, ready to spot any sign of injury and help him soothe his wounds, however he was shiny new and the only marks on him were from her own nails. The Capitol had once more scratched their cruelty into his marrow and then erased all traces of it.
“Oh baby.” She whispered, angry and hurt and sorry all at once. She wished she could protect him better, keep him far away from Snow’s clutches, but there was no chance of it when his grip on Panem was still so vice like.
“They drank my fucking blood!” Finnick raved, standing now and starting to pace as he ran a hand through his hair.
“They what?” she sounded as shocked as she felt, her stomach curdling at the thought.
“They used a knife, they cut me and they drank from the wound, but they call us fucking animals,” he scoffed, eyes wild and brimming with self-loathing, “And I couldn’t do a thing to stop them.” Reaching for her trousers, she used it to quickly wipe away the remenants of Finnick’s release from her skin, and got to her feet to gently grasp his face between her hands.
“Stop. Don’t trap yourself there.” She ordered.
“But they-“
“Stop.” She repeated. His eyes grew wet, shame painted all over his face. His hands trembled when they reached up to grasp her wrists. She hushed him, her thumbs gently scrolling over his cheekbones.
“I feel so dirty. I just want to feel like me again.” He whispered brokenly. Swallowing back the lump in her throat, she nodded in understanding and slowly leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss him. He didn’t respond, but his eyes were closed when she pulled back and took his hands instead. He sucked in a sharp breath, looking at her with so much vulnerability that she almost let the tears pricking her eyes spill.
“Let me take care of you.” She said softly. Finnick looked at her for a moment, and then he nodded, letting her lead him to the bathroom. He stood numbly, not willing to look in the mirror at his reflection as she got the shower running. Step one would be to clean all remenants of the Capitol from his skin, whisper her praises and affirmations of love into the abused flesh to replace all the filth they’d tried to fill him with. Finnick remained silent as she washed them both down, her hands running gently over his skin and her lips pressing delicate kisses to the places her hands had been. He took the shampoo from her to help her with her hair, his fingernails scratching lightly at her scalp as he massaged in the suds.
“Is this new?” he asked. She hummed in agreement. “Smells real nice.” The compliment made her smile slightly. Only as he washed the soap away down the drain did she turn to pull him into another gentle kiss.
“It smells like you, like home,” she murmured, brushing her nose against his, “I love you, Finnick. I’m glad you’re home.” Finnick sighed slightly, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. She felt the first wave of chill crawl over her skin as the water began to lose its warmth, so she reached for the dials and turned it off. Finnick was the one to hand her a towel, but she made sure to wrap it around herself securely in favour of drying him off with a smile – she could wait. With his towel wrapped round his waist, he patiently sat on the edge of the bed while she detangled his hair with his comb, carefully styling it to coif up just as he liked.
“Don’t stop.” He murmured. She had pulled the comb from his scalp but realised he must have found the sensation quite relaxing, as his shoulders had dropped and his eyes were closed, not a wrinkle on his forehead in sight. He smiled briefly as she began to comb his hair again with a hum.
“You know, I don’t think it’s possible to make you any more handsome.” She mused, kissing his shoulder.
He snorted slightly, “They always find a way.”
“No, they don’t. You are and always have been enough as you are.” She murmured, kissing at his spine next. Finnick shivered a little. With a hum, she let the comb fall onto the bed and moved to wrap her arms around him from behind instead. He hissed and drew back from her with wide eyes, making her frown in confusion.
“You’re still damp!” he protested. Rolling her eyes, she got to her feet and made a show of towelling off, changing into her usual pyjamas as he watched her with mild intrigue.
“Those pyjamas are new to.” he noted. He’d only been gone a week, yet that was two new changes for him to discover and adapt to. Perhaps two too many given the week he’d had. The pyjamas had been necessary, but she was feeling a tad guilty to have surprised him this much. He hated missing time with her and had confessed that when he came home and found she had moved furniture or bought new things, it made him feel left behind, like a foreign object in his own home.
“My others one were beyond saving. I would have been better off wearing my birthday suit.” She sighed. Finnick smiled faintly.
“I wouldn’t mind.” He assured her. With a grin, she shook her head and pointed to the door.
“I know you wouldn’t, now get out and let’s make some cocoa to take to bed with us, okay?” she suggested. He nodded his head, keeping his hand in hers as they exited the bedroom and went to find the necessary things. He stayed close, finding any excuse to touch her, and she leaned back into him every time with a contented hum, just to remind him she really was glad he was home.
“Marshmallows?” he asked, frowning in confusion as he closed the cupboard they were supposed to be in. She bit her lip, cheeks flushing pink.
“The little table by the armchair. I got snacky.” She admitted. He chuckled and went to retrieve them, looking happier as he dumped a handful into his mug. Only when he was curled up against her, the two of them content to simply sit in silence and appreciate the other’s presence, did he really seem to come back to her.  She stroked his hair, humming a song she had sang with her mother once years ago as they baked bread in their small kitchen. With his eyes closed and his head on her stomach, he looked peaceful, like he might be able to rest for once. She knew it wouldn’t last. The nightmares always came, and she would hold him as she always did and lie once more about how he was safe now. There was only one real certainty she had. One fact that would remain constant no matter what Snow threatened or what nightmares ravaged him.
She loved Finnick Odair whole heartedly, even if she had to say goodbye so he could belong to another just three weeks later, as was their tradition. This was their cycle, the never ending loop that had become their lives, but she would endure it, for him, and one day, they would be free of this game they played. Until then…until then, she would smile, wave, and miss the man she loved while he went to love another.
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targaryenluvs · 4 months
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OH BABY!
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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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stvrlitsky · 6 months
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Live, love and stan my jealous fictional boyfriends <3333
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a-aexotic · 1 year
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HEYYYY! So like every other mf on the planet right now I am in my hunger games era!!
Please could you write a Finnick x Reader where she is selected for the quarter quell (Maybe in her games she was lethal and killed like 10+ people?)
And when Katniss shoots the arena in catching fire she gets taken by the capitol (Like Peeta) and they torture her and shit? Then Finnick and her get there reunion she’s all like battered and bruided and it’s dead sad? Not sure if this made sense because i’m half asleep and dyselxic but let me know😭🤣
Maybe he says “It’s okay baby i got you” ??? x
hey of course i can! i hope u enjoy it babe <3 its a tiny bit long! my apologizes
cw's: angst, mentions of killing/dying, typical thg stuff, torture, ptsd, lmk if i missed anything
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You were one of the youngest victors alongside Finnick, being only 15 and having won your games. You were also from District 4. You won the 68th Hunger Games, a few years after Finnick.
When you were reaped, Finnick and Mags were your mentors. Finnick came off as self absorbed and arrogant but once you started talking to him, the more you realized that was total bullshit. He wasn't how the Capitol portrayed him, he was much more caring and compassionate. He was very sympathetic to your situation, having gone through the same things.
During your time in the arena, you were one of the most ruthless tributes of all time. In the beginning, you were easily overlooked. The tributes weren't thinking that you were going to be much of a challenge because of your size and the way you carried yourself.
But that was exactly how you wanted to be portrayed. You tricked the Careers into thinking you were some naïve little girl, stabbing them in the back (literally) the first chance you got. The Capitol loved the turn of events, cheering you on.
When you had come back home, you had finally understood the intensity of what you had done. You had killed a whole group of people, ending their lives permanently. Those people had lives and family who loved them, and now they're gone because of you.
You suffered through months and months from never ending nightmares. Even getting consoled by your mother didn't help anymore; she doesn't understand. You didn't even feel worthy of food anymore.
You closed off Mags and Finnick when you had come home, driving yourself into isolation and depression. You rarely went out anymore, eating one meal a day and slept more than 80% of the day. Even sleeping couldn't mend the eternal tiredness you had, the void that filled your body.
Finnick had felt more than responsible for your pain. He gave you time before he realized he was just adding to your pain. Even when you didn't communicate back to him, Finnick visited you every day. He gave you advice and told you what he had went through after the Games as well. Eventually you opened up more to Finnick, and slowly, he had become your best friend.
He had told you that numbing it wasn't going to make it go away. He reminded you that you had him and Mags to help you with this process, and that you weren't alone despite of how you felt.
He helped you regain your sense of purpose again, your self image again. Finnick had singlehandedly helped you rebuilt your sense of self again.
He saw a part of you in him, that scared 14 year old boy who was trying to go back home to his parents. He never wanted anyone to feel that, especially you.
He promised you that he would never let anything bad ever happen to you again.
During your Victor's tour, Snow had suddenly deemed you desirable by the Capitol, wanting to sell you as he did with Finnick. Finnick couldn't risk getting involved, wanting to protect his family.
Every night in the Capitol, you were always consoled by Finnick. Every time you had to do a favor, you remember walking to Finnick's room to sleep, not baring the thought of having to sleep alone in the cold bed. He was always there, holding your hand comfortingly as you both slept.
The Capitol adored you both, nicknaming you the princess and prince of Panem. The more time you spent with Finnick, the more the media had speculated a relationship between the young victors.
You and Finnick had connected in many ways. Both having the same trauma, it was easy to talk to him and for him to understand how hard it was.
You and Finnick eventually got together a few years later, then getting married (in secret, of course) almost right after. You were both deeply in love.
Finnick found solace in the thought of always having you by his side, remembering that no one could tear you apart. That was until the Quarter Quell was announced.
You and Finnick were sitting at the edge of the couch, listening to Caesar's words carefully as he explained that this year's Hunger Games was going to be very different.
When it was announced that there will be only be Victors in this year's games, you heard dropped. You looked over at Finnick and he shared the same terrified look on his face.
--
When Annie's name had been called, you without any second thought, put up your hand. "I volunteer as tribute."
The crowd gasped and you looked over at Annie and you could tell she was a bit relived but still scared nonetheless. You immediately embraced her tightly, letting her let out a small sob. "It's okay, you're okay."
Mags looked just as terrified and you took her hand. When Finnick's name was called, you felt your stomach drop. Not only were you back in the arena, but you were with Finnick.
You looked over at Finnick and he looked prepared to fight. You both stood up and he grabbed your hand, raising it up in union.
The trainride to the Capitol was pretty uneventful. Finnick had wanted some time to think about the plan and so did you. A part of you knew what he was planning; he kill everyone else in the arena and then eventually himself, all for you.
As you sat on the bed, you felt the sadness and anger turn into numbness. No amount of crying was going to stop the Quater Quell and you had to be smart.
You didn't want to survive without Finnick. You were either winning with him or dying with him. Life would be meaningless without him.
Finnick knocked on your door slightly, before walking in. You looked up at him and he gave you a small smile. He took a seat next to and took your hand.
"I have a plan."
"Finnick, I know what you're thinking, and no. You're not killing yourself for me."
Finnick looked defeated. "One of us has to survive, Y/N. For Annie. For Mags."
You look a deep inhale, looking away from Finnick. "I don't want to life without you, everything would lose all it's meaning without you."
Finnick felt his heart burst into two pieces as he squeezed your hand. You felt your eyes watering again and you couldn't help but let out another quiet cry as Finnick pulled your head in, as he embraced you tightly.
"Shh, it's okay. I promise, I won't... I won't leave you."
--
It had all happened so fast, you couldn't even comprehend what had just happened. One moment, you were with Finnick trying to find Johanna and Katniss and suddenly there was big loud boom. You were relieved for a moment; Plutarch's plan had worked. Until you realized how far away you were from the others.
You were wandering, trying to find anyone until you heard people behind you. You turned and then you saw some unfamiliar faces; suddenly, your vision went black.
Then, you woke up in a white room. You felt like your stomach had dropped out of your body once the realization hit you; the Capitol captured you.
You were strapped down to a bed and you couldn't move or shake it off. The severity of the situation had hit you; even if by some miracle you did escape, where would you go? How would you find your way to 13 and back to Finnick?
You knew how ruthless the Capitol was to everyone who disobeyed them. Your worst fears had come true and there was no getting out of here.
You heard the door open and you saw some Peacekeepers come in and then you saw the person you dreaded to see most; Snow. You felt like your whole had come crashing down, how could this nightmare become any worse?
"Hello, Y/N."
You didn't respond, resorting to stare at the wall in front of you instead.
He tutted disappointedly. "Out of all the tributes, you were the one I expected least to be involved in this mess. You are the Princess of Panem... What a shame."
You still hadn't replied and you hadn't dared to look at Snow. Months and months you spent trying to heal the trauma he had caused you, you were sure if you had to look at him now, you would break.
"I want to take mercy on you, dear Y/N. If you tell me everything you know about the rebellion, I will make sure the Peacekeepers are gentle with you."
You shook your head. "No."
He let out a small chuckle. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you. What?"
"No." You said again, louder.
He hummed in disapproval. "Okay then, you leave me no choice. You are going to regret this."
He nodded to the Peacekeepers and walked out of the room. You were then met with Peacekeepers, loosening the straps then taking you to another room.
If Snow knew one thing about you, it was that being only physical with you wouldn't hurt you enough. He had to hit you were it hurt most.
They threw you in the seemingly vacant room and immediately locking it. You were confused until you heard it.
"Y/N, help me!" Finnick's voice screamed. "Please, help me! Get up and do something, they're killing me! Please."
You looked everywhere in the dark room, trying to find the source. It kept going.
"Y/N, please! Help! What the hell are you doing, just sitting there? You are such a disappointment!" The voice started shouting. "We should've just left you to died in the arena! You are useless!"
Now this was something new. Your body was filled with panic and fear and even though you knew it was fake, you felt like you were going to throw up from all the noise.
Suddenly, Annie's voice came in as well. Then Johanna's. Then your mother's. There was nonstop noise filled with screams for help, shouting with disapproving messages. Your body couldn't handle it; it was so overwhelmed with fear that you started shaking on the ground, putting your hands on your ears but that did little to nothing.
You wanted it to stop. It was too much, you were trembling. It felt like days, just sitting there in that room listening to all those demeaning voices of your loved ones. You couldn't even think straight anymore.
It was so bad you had started to pound your head on the ground, screaming and crying. You had have enough. And then, it all stopped. Silence was foreign for you; your ears were ringing.
You were sitting on the ground, almost lifeless as the Peacekeepers took you away. Your eyes hurt from the tears, your body sore, your ears ringing and your head was pounding.
But you knew that was just the beginning.
--
You were asleep in bed and you were awakened by the door opening, you instantly jolted up. You looked over to see a group of masked men in front of you and you had started to tremble again, silent tears rolling down your face, thinking that the Peacekeepers had come again.
"No, no, no." You started to mumble to yourself.
A man came up to your and took your bruised hand slowly, rubbing it gently in silent empathy. That was the first soft touch you'd felt in a few weeks and it almost stung.
"It's okay, you're safe now. You're going to 13 now."
You had to blink a couple times, trying to process what he said. Was this a dream? You went to pinch yourself but it was real life.
He then helped you up but you couldn't help but stumble; your legs were weak, you couldn't remember the last time the Peacekeepers let you walk for this long.
As you got into the hovercraft, you saw Annie. Your eyes widened as you both ran up to each other, embracing each other. She had started to cry a little bit and so did you.
That was when it hit you. You were going to see Finnick. You were going home. You started crying into Annie's shoulder as she held you. "We're safe now, we're safe."
You had seen Johanna as well but she didn't seem too responsive. Neither did Peeta. You fell asleep on Annie's shoulder on the ride back and for the first time, you actually felt yourself drifting off calmly.
--
There were lots of doctors and nurses looking at you and asking you all sorts of questions and you tried your best to answer them. You were still in shock; you were safe. They couldn't hurt you anymore.
"Y/N?" You turned around to see Finnick. You immediately got up from the examiner's table and ran into his arms, your eyes starting to water up again.
"Finnick," you sighed slowly. You pulled away, putting your hands on his face and touched him as if he wasn't real.
"Are you.. Are you really here?"
"Yes, I'm really here." Finnick looked at you and suddenly his voice transported you back into the dark room. You quickly twisted out of his embrace and his expression changed.
His voice was back and you heard all of the nasty things he had to you. You back away, stumbling into the examiner's table and your breathing became heavy. "No, no, no, please-please go away. No."
You slid down to the floor and you closed your eyes, putting your hands on your ears and rocking back and forth trying to get that voice to stop.
Finnick ran up to you and put his hands on your knees, trying to get you to look at him. His heart broke in half; he didn't know what the Capitol had done to you but now he knows it has something to do with him.
Of course the Capitol would try to ruin him. His eyes started to tear up at the sight of you, in so much pain and panic.
You opened your eyes, Finnick in front of you. You started to cry some more before Finnick slowly went up to you, wrapping his arms around you.
When he had started wrapping your arms around you, your instinct was to push him away but his warmth was welcoming and safe and you started to focus on his touch. The voices slowly drifted away, the sounds of your silent sobs only being heard.
You then gave into Finnick's touch, falling into him and putting your head in his chest as he caressed your back gently, shushing you.
"It's okay baby, I got you. You're safe now, they can't hurt you."
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oweninadaydream · 5 months
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𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐩𝐭 𝟏 || 𝐅.𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫
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𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 : Say Don't Go (Taylor's version) (From The Vault) or 4 times you say 'I love you' and Finnick says nothing back.
𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 : Finnick Odair x reader
𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽 : 2K
𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼 : angst/fluffy ending (in part 2), (not really) unrequited love?, insecure reader, jealousy, TW: sexual exploitation (second story).
𝓪/𝓷 : This is my first time writing for Finnick and I'm so exited for you guys to read it!!! Hope you enjoy this fic :) Part two is already posted!!! You can find it here. If there are any mistakes I'm sorry , English is not my first language.
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𝟣. 𝒟𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝑒 
The quietness of the night was only being disturbed by the sound of crickets and mockingbirds. The cold breeze was the only thing keeping you awake. Well, that and Finnick. You were seated next to him on the porch of your house which was right next to his. Three years had passed since you won the 67th Hunger Games and you still weren't used to the gloomy sight that was Victors Village, especially not at night, when the solitude and darkness of the streets made you remember things you thought (or hoped) were long gone in your memory but that deep down you knew would always haunt you, until the day you died.
Finnick scooted closer in order to share his blanket with you "Stop being so prideful, I can see you shaking" he scolded you for being so stubborn. " I did it on purpose, I just wanted to make you cuddle me" you joked, as it was normal in your friendship.
He had been your mentor the year you were reaped , you got along well but didn't become that close then. You knew that those were his second games as a mentor and you could feel that he wasn't emotionally prepared to bond with you just to see you die days later. Still, he prepared you the best way he knew and was always kind towards you. After you emerged victorious from that nightmare, the Capitol decided to profit off of your charm ; you were too young, scared and lost, just like Finnick once had been (and still was). That's when he took you under his wing , and you would forever feel grateful for that.
He was your rock, your light within the dark, your safe person and he saw you as his happy place, someone he could rely on, his partner in crime and the person with whom he shared his deepest thoughts, his dreams, his nightmares and hopes for an utopian future. Finding each other seemed something simply destined to be. You needed each other in ways that no one else could wrap their head around.
Despite having that special and heartwarming relationship with him, you wanted more. You were utterly and madly in love with him. Your infatuation had begun during training and only grew stronger after he approached you after the games. The thing between you was so fragile, so special that you had never thought of confessing your love. The possibility of driving him away caused your heart a kind of ache worse than any stab received back in the Arena. Your feelings felt selfish, how could you want more? Your greedy passion would ruin everything (or so you thought), so you settled for what you had.
On the inside, you knew he wasn't the kind of man that would dismiss your feelings rudely and that he would continue to consider you his friend , but it just wouldn't be the same, and seeing your dynamic change in such a way would be a more fatal fate than dying at the games.
" The way they're shining, how beautiful" he quietly mumbled loud enough for you to hear. "I know, the stars look unreal tonight" you agreed while staring completely mesmerized to the night sky. "I was looking at your eyes" you turned to see that he wasn't in fact stargazing like you were. You were out of words. He was usually flirty and he never ran out of lovely words to dedicate to you, but you still reacted as if it were the first time. "Charming as always, dear" you replied as you rested your head on his chest. He moved so you could be more comfortable and you wanted to stop time at that exact moment.
" Thank you for always being there for me" he said in a more serious tone. " You know that I'd do anything for you. Are you okay? Where is this coming from?" you asked with a worried frown adorning your face. "These past few days apart have been rough and it made me appreciate you more" he confessed timidly. How privileged were you to be able to see him in his most vulnerable state. The moon, his hands holding yours, the heat you felt on your face, it was simply too much.
"FINNICK!" a blood-curdling scream came on the scene, startling you both. He quickly stood, as he had already identified the person behind such a yell. "ANNIE?!?!? WHAT'S WRONG?!?!?"
Annie was the victor of the last Hunger Games. She had been mentored by Finnick just like you, but unlike with you, Finnick had rapidly grown fond of her ever since they first met. You knew you shouldn't have thought too much of it, but your mind was your worst enemy. You couldn't stop yourself from imagining a very near future where he chose her over you , leaving you behind and all alone in this world. You liked her : she was kind, delicate but strong and very beautiful, but for those very same reasons you were becoming jealous of her and her chances of getting together with your best friend.
Annie appeared in front of your porch wrapped in a blanket and trembling while sobbing. " They're gonna get me" "Hey hey Annie c'mon, no one's gonna hurt you anymore, you know I'll make sure of it" How caring was Finnick, it was just natural for him to become the protector in every situation. "O-okay" Annie said with little confidence in her voice "Would you stay with me tonight? I had a really bad nightmare" her doe eyes had the reflection of the full moon in them ; it truly was a breath-stealing sight "Sure thing darling, I'll be there in a second, wait for me at home, all right? It's okay " his soothing voiced and calmed her down enough to return to her house by herself.
He turned around to look at you "I'm sorry, I have to go" "I know, Finnick, it's okay" you assured him, even though you were shocked by the term of endearment used for her, as it took Finnick quite a while to refer to you as sweetheart, honey or your favorite, love.
What was wrong with you? That poor girl had just got out of the games and was terrified out of her mind after dreaming about a traumatic experience she had recently been through (just like you did in you day) and the only thing you could think about was how jealous you were because she was being comforted by Finnick in such an intimate and caring way, because she had his full attention and she would be the one lured to sleep by his calloused hands running through her hair that night. You were not thinking logically and you lost control of your actions.
"Hey" you shouted to catch his attention, as he had already begun to leave towards Annie's house "I love you Finn, I just wanted you to know" you confessed as your froze in place . You told each other how much you loved each other all the time, but it had never been like this : not under that light, not with all that sentiment in your eyes and definitely not with such a voice tone. It was clearly a confession and you could't believe what you had just done.
He stared and smiled, transmitting you his appreciation for such kind words and he continued the way to his destination. Oh fuck. Fuck Fuck Fuck. He hadn't interpreted your words as you spilling your guts about your feelings, it was just a friendly 'I love you' to him. Annie was perfect for him, you could never give him that sweet innocent love you believed Finnick deserved. The anxiety quickly transformed into anguish and you went back inside to prepare yourself for a night full of tears and stupid hypothetical scenarios about them. About him.
𝟤. 𝐼𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒
Looking around the enormous gardens you couldn't spot a single person you genuinely cared about. This Capitol party, as the previous ones, were filled with members of high society that gazed at you and the rest of victors as if you were exotic wild animals.
Reaching your secret hiding spot, you felt yourself letting your guard down. Even if distracted, you noticed the warm hand on your shoulder. You spun on your heels to identify the person behind that unexpected and yet comforting touch. Of course, Finnick Odair. Your confident, your best friend, your protector and the love of your life (role that's he's unaware of). "Shit Finnick, don't do that!" you playfully reprimanded him while smacking his chest. He pretended to be hurting but ended up laughing at your little tantrum.
"Wow, Cinna has outdone himself, you look charming my dear" he said as he gently took your hand to make you spin and admire the fine clothes you were dressed in that evening. Based on the pink blush that adorned his cheeks you quickly arrived to the conclusion that he was far from being sober and you didn't blame him, these events were unbearable if not intoxicated. "You're not bad yourself, Odair" .
The two of you danced, talked, drank more than you'd be able to remember the next day and flirted, a lot. Your heart couldn't take one more touch nor one more compliment from this man . "There's something you're not telling me, I can see it in your pretty face" he commented while hugging you from behind. He'd always known everything about you, so that remark was not surprising. Still, your heart started beating at an alarming speed and you felt the sweat coming out from your shaky hands.
What if you told him? Based on the spark in his eyes during the party you could only assume he was at least interested in you as more than a friend. You were intoxicated and wrapped between his arms, what if you just told him? "I... I love... you..." you mumbled while closing your eyes as if that would make you invisible to him. The deafening silence brought out your worst fear : rejection. No, no, no, this couldn't be happening. You've fucked up real bad this time. You turned around to face him and get this done as fast as possible.
That's when you realized : he hadn't heard you confessing your most cherished secret. You had an opportunity to go back in time, to act as if nothing had happened. You couldn't risk losing him. You locked eyes with him and Finnick tilted his head to the side in drunken confusion as he hadn't caught on to what you had so shyly whispered. Smiling sympathetically you shook your head as if to not give importance to what had been previously said. He didn't give too much though to your dismissive answer. "Would you like another drink, love?" His characteristic smirk accompanied the proposal perfectly, inviting you to give in ; as always, you couldn't deny him anything.
Before you had the chance to approach the drinks table , one of Finnick's regular clients grabbed him by the waist and whispered something into his right ear. His eyes suddenly darkened and his once relaxed features stiffened significantly. You already knew what was about to happen. You were no stranger to the services President Snow forced him to provide to Panem's elite. In fact, you were another of the poor miserable souls in charge of satisfying every desire of anyone who was wealthy enough to afford the luxury of laying with a victor.
Telling the wealthy woman to wait at their usual meeting place, he shook her off. Finnick approached you, feeling guilty and not wanting to part from your side. After a single chaste kiss on your left cheek, he left in the same direction as his client. You let out a shaky breath you didn't know you were holding and tried to prevent the tears from falling. As common as this was, it never got easier for neither of you.
Later that night you found yourself in a similar position as Finnick. The man caressing your body didn't pay any attention to the way you were spacing out and you felt thankful for that. Your mind was elsewhere, replaying over and over again the moment you almost told Finnick how in love you were with him and wondering what would have happened if you had had the courage to repeat those three words just a little bit louder . But it doesn't matter, not anymore. He was drunk and so were you, nothing sincere would have come out of his mouth at that time and you highly doubt sober him would have corresponded your feelings anyway. If only things were different.
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Jabberjays | Johanna Mason
Pairing: Johanna Mason x fem!reader (District4!Finnick's sister!reader)
Summary: During the attack of the Jabberjays Katniss is introduced to a whole different Johanna.
Warning/s: a bit of angst, a bit of fluff, the quarter quell, jabberjays, panic, screaming, weapons, you know typical hunger games stuff, also this is more like a short blurb but yeah, possible grammar and spelling mistakes
Author's note: I always wanted to write something about the Jabberjay attack so I absolutely loved the request! Also I made the reader Finnick's sister, I hope that's okay. Hope you enjoy!!
Request -> hi! i have a request for johanna!! could u do one where fem!reader and her are in a relationship that’s not secret just private (like only finnick knows) but something happens in the arena where johanna gets worried about r & finnick and katniss have a talk like johanna and katniss did in the movie abt annie? sry if that was too long or didn’t make sense! ty <33
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Johanna just went into the thick forest to get some water with the spile that Haymitch send them so that they don't die of dehydration. She was regretting it now.
Katniss, Peeta, Beetee, your brother Finnick and you were on the beach. You were sitting with Katniss on the dry sand as you anxiously waited for Johanna to return from the forest as you stated at the hole in the sand that Johanna's ax made.
Thankfully, you thought to yourself, she took it with her.
Everything was relatively peaceful, too peaceful even. You didn't like it one bit. Something was coming. The game makers wouldn't allow the things to be so peaceful for so long. You were soon proven right as you heard the ear piercing scream that only seemed to shake through you.
"Johanna!" Your voice screamed back, every bit of common sense leaving you as you bolted towards the sound of Johanna's bloody-like screams.
You left your knives on the beach, along with the rest of your team that were screaming your name, confused from your actions as they tried to keep up with you. You were in a vulnerable place as you waved your hands around, trying to keep the thick leaves, that were swang down blocking your vision, away from your face as you ran still screaming Johanna's name as much as she screamed yours.
"Johanna!" You shouted as you reached the center of the forest where Johanna's screams were.
You were moving around in the circle, trying to determine where exactly her voice was coming from. After a while it hit you as you realized that her screams were coming from above. High in the trees. Then you saw the jabberjays flopping their little wings in the air, swaying the leaves of the trees and you knew that you fell right in the Capitol's trap.
"Y/N!" Finnick's muffled voice came towards you and you quickly turned towards him. Katniss, Beetee and Peeta were there with him, looking extremely concerned.
But why were they not coming closer?
The painful sounds of Johanna's screaming was messing with your head, panick gripping onto each and every fragment of your mind and body.
Why were they not coming over? Why aren't they helping? Why are they just standing there?!
Your felt your arms moving up, your hands gripping your head to try and kill the ever racing thoughts and the continuous mocking of the jabberjays. Then, as your eyes frantically searched the area, you spotted Johanna. Her eyes full of concern only reserved for her close friends and her love.
Then, the next thing that happened just confused you even more. Finnick grabbed her arm quickly, stopping her as she moved forward towards you, ax in her hand. She twisted her arm, releasing her arm from Finnick's grip as she yelled at him while he talked to her about something that you didn't hear. Her expression changed from concerned to utterly horrified.
"Y/N!" You heard Johanna's muffled, concerned voice mixing with the imitation of the screaming that the jabberjays provided.
You didn't think, the constant screaming was too much. You ran towards her, but came to a stop when your body hit something invisible. The force field. You started banging your hands against the force field trying to ignore the looks of pity and concern from your lover, brother and allies. You didn't want to except this.
The screaming intensified as the birds got closer to you, and you found yourself sliding onto the ground, screaming bloody murder just so you could tone down the sound of Johanna's and Finnick's torturous screams. Johanna was taping on the force field shouting at you something that you didn't understand.
That's how Johanna found herself banging her ax forcefully against the force field, trying to break it. Finnick next to her, hitting the force field with his trident, his eyes full of concern as he watched his baby sister's torture.
The new hour began and Katniss watched the scene in front of her not believing the state that Johanna was in. The hurried movements with her ax, the horrified expression on her face, her eyes full of concern. She cared about someone here. She actually, genuinely, cared about someone here.
°
"Y/N!" Johanna's voice reached your ears, tearing through the ringing in them as you swayed back and forth on the ground. "The hour is up! You okay! It's over! I'm here!"
After you finally came to your senses enough to look at her, you immediately wrapped your arms around her as tightly as you possibly could, not letting go.
"Johanna," You gasped through neverending sobs as your body shook against hers. "You're all right."
"We're both alright." She answered you with the softest voice Katniss ever heard.
Later on you all gathered at the beach once again. Peeta and Beetee went of a bit further away on the beach, looking for some food. Johanna and you settled down on the edge of the beach away from the rest of the team, but still in their eyesight, and finally Katniss and Finnick sat down, learning against the trees.
"Are they together?" Katniss asked Finnick, breaking the silence. "Johanna and Y/N?"
"Yes." Finnick answered immediately, his sea-green eyes snapped to look at her gray ones. "They didn't really keep it a secret, it was private. Only Mags, Annie, Haymitch and I knew really. They wanted to keep it in the close circle of friends."
"I've never seen Johanna act like that before," Katniss quietly murmured as she processed this new information that Finnick told her. "It was quite terrifying."
"Yeah, well," Finnick couldn't help himself as he chuckled playfully at her confession. "Johanna loves her so much. It is terrifying, honestly." He, however, continued on a more serious note. "Y/N won her games a year before Johanna. She helped her when she was going through tough times after she went out of the arena. Johanna lost her family. Y/N is the only thing that she lives for, now. She said it herself when I gave her, correction," Finnick held his finger up in the air, noting that he expressed himself wrongly. "Tried, key word tried, to give her I'm-her-older-protective-brother-so-you-better-not-hurt-her speach."
"And how did that turn out?" Katniss couldn't help but to ask, given how Johanna was she knew that his answer was going to be good.
"Oh, she smacked me across the head." Finnick smiled and Katniss found herself laughing at his answer just like she expected to.
Finnick and Katniss gazed to the couple that was still knee deep in the water, arms wrapped around each other as you sat in between Johanna's legs, your back leaning against her front.
"I'm glad that they have each other," Katniss spoke her thoughts out loud. "Even though they are so different they just seem to fit so well with one another."
"Definitely."
"What the hell are you two gossiping about?" Johanna called out causing you to giggle softly as you spoke.
"Yeah! And why the hell didn't you invite us?!"
->
->
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TAGLIST:
@caroline-books @thecrowdedstreetin1944
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bumblesimagines · 4 months
Note
nice bedhead.
why don't you join me in the shower?
- Finnick Odair
nice bedhead.
why don't you join me in the shower?
i really like the plot and backstory for this... hm.
Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs, GN!Reader
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You gazed at the window from the comfort of the bed, listening to the comforting sound of the ocean waves rolling in and inhaling the salty air wafting in from the open window. You enjoyed sleeping with the window open at night ever since you won the 68th Hunger Games. There was always a second of panic in the mornings. A split moment when your body awoke from a long night filled with nightmares and your brain hadn't yet caught up with your surroundings. That split second of dread and fear that coming home had been a dream and you were still in the arena always made your heart skip a beat. But then the sea breeze would seep in and fill your nose with the smell of home. 
Your eyes dragged away from the window when the muscular arms around your waist tightened and a nose buried itself in your neck. You were pulled closer into a bare chest and Finnick's face buried further into the nape of your neck, your ears picking up on the shakey exhale that left his lips. His soft bronze curls tickled your cheek but you remained still, giving him time to fully awaken and gain awareness of his surroundings. He needed his reminder too.
You'd known Finnick as many things throughout your life. He'd been the neighbor's son who'd bring over the day's catch whenever your father fell ill. He'd been the boy in your class who had everyone wanting to be his friend with his charming smile and then had everyone on the edge of their seats when he'd been reaped into the 65th games. And finally, he became your fellow Victor when you returned home from your own agonizing time in the games. But even then, even with such close history as neighbors and former classmates, you scarcely called him a good friend. 
You had always held Finnick at arm's length. He was the sweet pretty neighbor who lived across the stone path, the popular classmate whose eyes never strayed far from you, the fourteen-year-old who'd survived the games and embraced you the moment he saw you as if frightened he'd never get to see you again. His behavior had always been strange. With a flock of followers and admirers always at his feet, he'd always been eager to befriend you, not that you ever allowed it. Your parents laughed about it, cooing to give the boy a chance, that he meant well and only wanted a friend. Your teachers did similarly but you couldn't shake off the envious looks when Finnick sat beside you during lunch or when his hand would be the first to raise when you needed a sparring partner.
It was strange. He was strange.
You still remembered how his face paled when your name was pulled from the bowl. The way he avoided being in your presence during your stay in the Capitol and left Mags to solely train you. The way he whispered in your ear all the weaknesses your district partner had before you had to leave for the arena. The look of relief on his face when you returned that promptly fell when you lashed out at everyone and anyone who tried to help. But he stuck by. Always lingering, always checking up on you. Until you finally had enough of the nightmares and wanted an escape for the night. What was supposed to be a one-time thing turned into a common occurrence when you or Finnick wanted to forget about the games or the Capitol.
So, there you were. With Finnick Odair in your bed.
"How'd you sleep?" He asked softly into your ear, voice hoarse and still soaked in exhaustion. His arms remained around you, holding you closely but not constricting you. Finnick was a quick learner. One of the many reasons he'd always been top of the class. His observant eyes and quick mind had taught him how to handle you, how to ensure you wouldn't lock him out of your life again. 
"Fine." You responded in a murmur and shifted around in his arms to face him. He leaned back slightly for wiggle room before pressing himself against you once again and pressing a quick peck to your forehead. Who knew an Odair could be so clingy? Your eyes lifted to his tousled locks. It suited him better than the pristine, perfectly combed style. "Nice bedhead."
He made a noise of amusement and moved his hand up to your face, pressing his palm against your cheek and running his thumb over your skin. He smiled, a genuine dorky smile unlike the flirtatious one he put on for the people of the Capitol, and bumped his nose against yours. "Why don't you join me in the shower?"
"Because I know you'll start something you'll want to finish in bed." Your answer made him snort and he closed the distance to properly kiss you. He smiled against your lips and rolled on top of you, pushing himself up onto his forearms and giving you a cheeky grin. 
"Then I'll start something in bed we can finish in the shower."
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lis-likes-fics · 8 months
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Music to My Eyes
Pairings: Finnick Odair x deaf!fem!Reader Word Count: 7.5k words Warnings: Mentions of the Games, so killing and death, mentions of trauma, my attempt at writing sign language, pre-Katniss, no Annie... A/N: Hey, everyone! I watched the Hunger Games a few months ago and had a mini obsession and decided to write for it and only now just got half of my fic done. Since it was running as long as it was, I decided to go ahead and split this into two different parts, but I swear the rest of it is being planned and written. Also A/N: Just FYI, anything written in /slants/ is an indication of something being signed because explaining every little sign just does not work. And, also, Hecton Leary is absolutely done by Peter Capaldi in my mind...just in case you need a visual. I was watching a lot of Doctor Who during this so, get ready to see those intense eyebrows all over the place in this, lmao. Also Also A/N: Special thanks to my beta-reader @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen who I will be crediting more bc I literally forgot to last time and she's too amazing for that! Thanks, Vee! 💖
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You don't love wearing dresses—especially not extravagant ones like these, more expensive than likely your entire district as a whole. You also don't love parties like these where you have to wear said dresses, surrounded by tons of people generating body heat and stuffing the room full of perfumes and colognes that make your nose and eyes burn. Your feet hurt from the heels your designer paired with your outfit, and the air is active with words and voices that overwhelm your brain with too much information to take.
Having Hecton beside you is a relief at least—not completely lost in a sea of people as he and you communicate with two rich sponsors from District 1 dressed just a slight less dramatic as you but just as exaggerated.
You watch their lips, painted over with bright colors complementing their attire, as they speak to you. "It must be so hard, isn't it?" the woman asks, spending too much time on "so" as she speaks slowly for you to comprehend. You want to roll your eyes. "Flailing about all the time just to get a few words out?"
The man next to her agrees, nodding his head. You can see his throat shift, and you assume he's hummed a response.
Hecton's hands move with skill as he speaks, partly as aid in translation for you but mostly for the performance people are looking for.
You feel like your lips are going to fall off, you can almost feel them twitching at the ends from how long you've been smiling at all these people who don't know anything about you and assume they know everything.
You widen your smile to show teeth and shake your head, continuing to be as respectful as you can with your social tolerance running low.
Your hands move and, out of the corner of your eye, you can see Hecton speaking as they do. "Not really," he translates. "It's natural for me."
The man puts a hand over his heart and turns to her. "Oh, you poor thing," he says rather dramatically. Hecton doesn't dignify his words by translating that for you—not that you needed it in the first place. His hands remain still, folded in front of him. The man glances toward them, and you can see his brief disappointment at his words not receiving the glory of illustration.
You glance up at Hecton, your smile intact as you slightly squint the corners of your eyes in a silent plea. He answers you gracefully, turning his attention back to the fashionable vultures in front of him.
"This was wonderful," he says, "but I believe our little lady is excited to meet other guests here tonight."
Hecton is an older man with grey hair, pale eyes, and intense brows. Upon looking at him, he isn't the most approachable man. You don't just say no to him—especially as a past victor of the Games who certainly triumphed by a long-shot. He is not weakened by age, but he's definitely wisened by it. Although sobered by surviving the horrors of the Games, it neither slowed nor ruined his life, it simply gave an abrupt end to what little childhood people of Districts like yours can obtain.
One look at the finality on his face and they were fully ready to end their (rather insulting) conversation. They turn to one another, making these awful pity-faces as they hold each other's hands and turn back to heartily agree. "Of course." She puts too much emphasis on the words. "Goodbye, dear."
You nod gently and look toward Hecton for confirmation as he places a hand on your back and turns with you. You both walk away from the conversation gratefully, still smiling for everyone else in the room but moving your hands in silent conversation.
/These people are exhausting,/ you complain, entirely within your right with the way they treat you.
Hecton sighs, looking at you with eyes that understand your struggle. /Just keep them happy./
You nod, remaining light-hearted for both your sakes as you offer a genuine smile before you slip back into a customer service front. /I know, I know./
Lots of eyes are on you tonight, but none so keen as a certain boy across the room. He has basically been watching you all night, intrigued by the way you've been communicating, by the way you draw so much attention without having spoken a single word since you arrived.
He has seen you around a few times—on television, at other parties. He knows your face and that you won the Games like him, but he's never paid enough attention to actually know anything past that. But now, observing you all night, he's interested enough to ask.
His elbow brushes the guy next to him, a victor from another district he doesn't care to specify right now. "Who is that again?" he asks, not taking his eyes off of you as his friend turns to look. "I've seen her a couple times, never remember."
He looks at you and then back at him. "Her?" he gestures vaguely toward you. He nods.
"Victor from District 10, she won the 67th Games." He takes a sip from his drink, leaning back against a table with a hand in his pocket. "Surprised everyone cause she," he shrugged, "can't hear or something."
That definitely caught his attention as he turned full bodied toward him. "Really?"
"Yeah," he swirled his drink around. "She's nice…in a little bunny sort of way." It's not necessarily an insult, more than it is him calling you soft-hearted and skittish.
He walks away without a word, finally making his way toward you to quell his curiosity as he approaches you and takes his sweet time about it.
Your back is turned to him. He briefly wonders the best way to get your attention on the way over, knowing you hate being tapped by the way your shoulders flinch and you strain a smile when you turn.
Then again, no one likes tapping.
When he reaches you, he just folds his hands behind his back and smiles. "Hello," he says simply. Hecton turns at the greeting, prompting you to do the same.
"I'm Finnick. Finnick Odair," he greets with a smile of his own as he regards the both of you. He watches the way the old man's hand moves on his name. Your hand reaches out and interrupts him as you place a gentle palm on top of his. He makes a face—it's not annoyed, just teasing.
You turn back to Finnick, your performance smiling still intact. Hecton speaks while you sign. For a moment, Finnick thinks he'll understand the movements you make—Mags doesn't speak, she has to use her hands to communicate all the time, surely it couldn't be that different—but he is proven wrong when words don't match waves.
"I know who you are. You won the 65th Games, you're from District 4." Finnick thinks, briefly, that your friend's voice doesn't match you at all (which is obvious, of course, but he feels it's worth pointing out).
"Well, then," he responds with a slight chuckle, only glancing for a moment at the way Hecton's hands move as he talks, "I'm flattered you know me. Unfortunately, I couldn't say the same for you…"
You seem surprised by that. He thinks it may have something to do with the way that you haven't had many moments away from conversation since you arrived. Everyone has been too taken by you, too interested in snatching a few minutes.
Your hands don't start moving in that curious way Finnick likes to watch because words are already being spoken. "Mr. Odair, this is Y/N Y/L/N. I am her mentor and translator, Hecton Leary."
Finnick holds out a hand, which each of you shake. Out of courtesy, he doesn't start talking again until after your hands are free. "Wonderful to meet you both. And, please, Finnick is fine. There's no need for formalities when we could be friends, right?"
You still smile as you begin to sign, though your brows furrow. /Why exactly do I want to be your friend?/
Finnick doesn't understand, looking at Hecton for translation. He only says your name, a sort of reprimand as he continues to smile.
/I'm only being honest./
Where you expected frustration from not understanding, you find amusement in Finnick's eyes as his genuine smile widens and he looks between the both of you. "What am I missing?"
Hecton looks at you, raising a large brow and waiting for your reply. You sigh gently and shake your head, remaining civil as you begin to sign.
"Sorry," he speaks for you. "I look forward to establishing friendship with another fellow Victor. Maybe one day we'll…" Hecton gets quiet as he just watches your hands continue to move and your lips continue to smile, full of amusement.
/We'll frolic in the woods together, holding hands and singing songs./
Hecton turns full body to you. He holds his palms apart and brings them together swiftly without clapping them. /Y/N./
You smile wider and hold your hands in surrender, the tiny sound of a giggle slipping out of you. You're otherwise silent as your hands fly. /I'm joking! Tell him it was nice to meet him, and I look forward to being friends./
Hecton eyes you momentarily before relenting, turning back to Finnick with exasperation. "She says it was a pleasure meeting you, and she looks forward to your friendship."
Finnick raises his brows, bowing his head gently. "The pleasure is all mine." He's a charmer, and he makes that clear by reaching out and slowly, softly taking your hand in his (his grasp is so gentle that you could easily take your hand back if you wanted and he wouldn't stop you). He bends forward, pressing his lips to the back of your hand. He straightens his spine and watches you fondly. "Until we meet again."
As he lets go of your hand, he bows his head once more before he walks away. You and Hecton watch him leave. He raises his own brow at you. "Is that blush I see?"
Your hands are quick and exaggerated as you move them. You know he's joking and you're not blushing, but his teasing makes you. /No!/
Hecton's smile is wide and open and you know he's laughing at you, so you call him out for being mean. He drops it just as quickly, once the joke has faded to a funny memory and you both are back to mingling with people who do not care about you.
~
The halls are empty this late in the night. Everyone has retired to their rooms or taken an early train home. It's peaceful, wandering the halls this late and being undisturbed by curious eyes and ears watching you like some wild animal. You enjoy the silence—the physical silence of steady air and only one set of footsteps to track instead of hundreds.
At the end of the hall you wander now is the elevator that takes you to your level. Hecton will be wondering where you are—and if not, it's probably time for you to retire for the night before the victor's interviews with Lucky tomorrow anyway. As you make your way toward it, the lights bright and beckoning, you stop in front of it and click the door button.
It's as the doors are sliding open that you realize you're no longer alone in the dead of this night. You feel it in the prickle of your skin, the change in the weight of the floor beneath you. You look over quickly where the side of your face heats with a new presence.
You see Finnick approaching you, seemingly pleased to see you as he smiles at you, stopping short of the doors to offer you first entry. You grin hesitantly, your confidence from before waning a little with the absence of your mentor and translator. If he tries to talk to you, you're probably going to have a rough night. You press the tenth floor button. He presses the fourth.
Finnick isn't as pessimistic, glancing at you out of the corner of your eyes as you stand with your fingers tangled and your eyes toward the ground. You don't look nearly as cocky this time around—in fact, you seem nervous, refusing to even give him that small, awkward smile you usually receive when stuck in a space next to someone you don't know.
Finnick licks his lips, and speaks before he can correct himself. "Hello," he says, giving you a charming smile before immediately remembering your certain disability.
His curiosity grows when you raise your head, glancing his way but not quite committing.
"Oh, right," he mumbles. His added words spark your attention once more as you finally look at him, moving your hand in a talking motion.
"Yeah," he responds. "How did you know?" You're deaf, but you could tell that he was speaking without even looking at him?
He watches you think for a moment, staring off to try and figure out a way to tell him without Hecton to aid you. You look at him again, raising a hand palm down and shaking it.
"Shaking?" he guesses, raising a confused brow.
You gestured around the elevator, your face etched in concentration, determined to be understood. You sometimes forget how hard communication can actually be for you.
"The room?" he tries. "The room is shaking?"
You make a face, one that says "not quite".
He thinks for a moment, putting your gestures together before it dawns on him. "The air is moving."
You smile, far too happy to have successfully gotten a point across.
Finnick's brows raise, though not in a mocking or upset way. "Is everything really that sensitive for you?"
'It has to be,' you want to say, but you can't. You can read lips, but moving your own to try and copy them is a completely different story. Instead, you just nod and agree.
"I heard that's how you won the Games," he said, before adding on the end with a genuinely impressed smile. "Very cool, by the way." He had spent an embarrassing amount of time—or it would be embarrassing if he actually cared about that—asking party comers about you. Most of the information he got was about the Games, always about the Games. He got the same answers from just about everyone about how you were just so sweet and how it was so inspiring how your lack of hearing helped you to win.
As much as that sweet grin on your face made you want to smile, he wasn't technically right. So you shook your head, and he watched you raise your hands to cover your eyes.
"You were blind?" he wonders, but that doesn't make any sense and he doesn't feel very smart for asking now.
You shake your head and do it again, this time pulling your hands away and then covering your face again.
"You hid," he answers. That makes more sense.
You nod and he hums.
You didn't win the Hunger Games by killing for being killed, you didn't win by joining alliances or traveling in groups and pairs. You won the Games by running and hiding until everyone had killed each other.
When the Gamemakers used their tricks and schemes to flush you out of your hiding places, you found another one to lay low until the end. Yes, there were times when you had to fight for your life, but you were no strong competitor. It was dumb luck that you won. Right up to the end, facing off with the almost-champion after having been hunted down by Mutts. He killed them, and then he tried to kill you.
And that was when your disability was labeled your greatest weapon.
Maybe one day you'll be able to tell him that.
The doors slid open to reveal Finnick's floor. You both linger there in the elevator for a moment, trying to decide what to do from there.
Truly, you should have just waved at him and let the doors close to take you to your own floor. It was late already, you needed to rest.
But…
"Do you like sweets?"
Yes, you do.
You nod, answering his charming smile with a shy one and being upset with yourself in the back of your mind for falling for his obvious charm. If you got hurt, it was on you and no one else. But who cares?
You, you care. Maybe not enough, though.
You follow him off the elevator and into the common room. The kitchen is just off of it, with a long table cleared of dinner but still adorned with snacks—fruits and a few deserts. Finnick slides over a plate of cookies as you take a seat. They're chocolate and very good.
He sits across from you, a little too keen in the way he leans forward. He picks up a cookie between his thumb and forefinger, playing with it absent-mindedly as he speaks.
"Is that," he waves one hand, "usually how you communicate?" He hopes he doesn't sound offensive and takes a bite from his cookie.
You don't seem offended as you shrug. He watches you move your hand like you're grasping a pen, shifting it around in a circle. He understands and, like a dog, goes to grab the supplies for you, dropping his cookie back on the table with little to no regard. He's not necessarily upset about his obedience, if anything, he's happy to let you boss him around—not that you have been—if it means quenching his genuine curiosity with how you operate.
He slides you a notebook as he reclaims his seat, gently slapping a pen on top with a cheeky grin. He seems proud of himself. You hold in your chuckle as you write with the best handwriting you can with the quickness of your scribbles.
/Signing or writing./
Finnick reads it off. He thinks your handwriting is pretty.
"Does it get tiring?" he asks, cookie forgotten in crumbs on the counter. He absent-mindedly pushes it to the side so he can lean closer. "Moving your hands like that all the time?"
His question is one you get often, a repeated question every person asks to suit their shallow interest in you. But you can't bring yourself to be offended or annoyed. Finnick doesn't seem shallow, his curiosity runs deep and his kindness deeper. You're not sure you could take anything he says with offense.
You simply shake your head. /Easy as it is for you to talk,/ you answer honestly, adding the gesture for "speak" at the end to try to be helpful.
He shouldn't be impressed, but he is. "Oh," he says, brows raised in vivid interest. "Is it easy to learn?"
He's full of questions. He knows he probably sounds like a child, piling them on top of each other like tidal waves. But you don't seem upset, so he carries on.
You shrug again.
/Would not know. Depends on person./ You look up at him, and then you add, /You want to learn?/
The way you write is interesting to him. You don't do it in full sentences in an effort to keep it short and simple. But you also don't use contractions, though you try to write as quickly as possible to keep up the feel and consistency of actually speaking.
He smiles slyly and pretends to be shy about it, bowing his head and looking up at you through pretty lashes. "Maybe," he says. "Could you teach me?"
You mirror his expression, bowing your chin toward your chest and smiling at him. /Maybe./
You finish your cookie and rip off the first page to turn to another. He watches you write out the alphabet, quickly scribbling a very poor illustration of a hand gesture underneath each one. It takes a while, longer than you wished for it to.
Finnick doesn't mind. While you're distracted with the activity at hand, he's watching you. You're very pretty, he thinks. With the way you sit to draw, you keep your body open and give yourself the room you need to still see him as you work.
You've got kind eyes. He doesn't think you get that enough. Everyone calls you a sweet girl, but they usually follow it up with something along the lines of "even with her issue".
But Finnick just thinks you're pretty and kind. That's it. No exceptions.
He wants to learn about you without the tainting of word-of-mouth or television programs. He wants to know you. The stuff you love, the stuff you hate, everything that makes you happy, and the stuff that makes you want to throw chairs. He wants to know what your favorite color is, if you like to dance or paint or swim.
Before he can keep daydreaming about whether you like cats or dogs, you look up at him to show off your work. You think it's sloppy. He thinks you did great.
You start going through it with him, showing him the hand signs as you get to them with a patience that amazes him. Once you've gone through the whole of it once, he lifts his own hand to try it out. He looks weird and silly, and you smile as he tries his best.
When he offers a poor attempt at a 'Q', a giggle manages to slip. You probably don't hear it, but Finnick certainly does. His face lights up at the sound. He had heard you make little more than a sigh. Managing to pull a giggle out of you—especially one as pretty as that? It's like winning the lottery.
He goes through it with you a couple more times before he straightens his spine. "So…"
He points to his chest and holds his hand out, slowly moving it to fit the gestures he's tried.
F. I. N. N. I. C. K.
You nod quickly, beaming from ear to ear at how quickly he's picked it up already. You point to yourself and spell your own name out. You move slowly, giving him time to connect each letter to each sign as you go. And when you finish, he spells it himself. A nearly perfect copy, (although perfect may be generous, he's definitely trying and it shows—that's perfect enough in your book).
You carefully tear the page out and set it to the side so he can still see and write excitedly on the next page, your writing almost terrible with how quickly you scribble. /Natural!/
You sign the word after. He copies you, and then tries to spell it out. He gets it right for the most part—even though you're pretty sure you saw him use an 'X' instead of an 'R'.
He really wants to impress you. He doesn't make that subtle, and you're honestly happy he doesn't. It makes you genuinely giddy, the way he's so eager to learn and show off his new skill (a skill he's literally been practicing for no more than ten minutes). You don't realize how far onto the table you've learned. Your hands would brush if you moved them an inch closer.
"I'll keep at it," he replies genuinely at your proud smile. He had no idea someone so silent could be so pleasantly loud. Your ecstatic movements and wide grins compensate for your lack of vocalization. When you speak through your hands or the notebook in front of you, he almost swears he can hear a voice he hasn't heard in place of it, so kind and pretty. Like a song.
You smile too fondly at him, taking in a soft breath before looking down at your hands and sitting back again. You'd gotten ahead of yourself. You don't correct it as much as you should. You're just as fond as you sit correctly in your seat and watch him with intense interest.
After a moment of comfortable silence, you pick up your pen again. He watches you write something down. You turn the book around for him to see.
/Mentor cannot speak?/
"Mags?" he wonders. You nod, tilting your head. "No."
You write again. /Cannot sign?/
"No."
You tilt your head and furrow your brows, a silent inquiry. He shrugs, "Never learned."
You contemplate for a moment, rubbing your neck gently before taking the notepad once more. You show it to him.
/Can teach./ You point to yourself, offering a small grin.
"Really?" he furrows his brow.
You shrug. Why not?
Finnick stares at you a moment, searching your eyes for a joke he knows he won't find. So why would you be so open to helping her? Maybe you're just weird.
His lips curl in a smile. "I'll ask her."
Your own smile grows.
He drums his fingers on the table, watching you watching him. He thinks for a moment, just staring, before he opens his mouth.
"So obviously, you can read lips." You nod. "Were you born deaf?"
You nod and reach for the notepad once again. It takes you a moment to write this time. /Parents did not find out til 2. Was a quiet kid. Did not realize until I never started speaking./
He's so interested in everything you tell him. He hangs onto your every word like pure gold. "So you've never heard anything before? Ever?"
He feels like it's a dumb question. Of course not. But you hesitate, glancing off before you nod.
/Yes./
His eyes go wide with wonder. "How?" He crosses his arms and leans forward on the table.
You thought for another moment, trying to find the best way to phrase it to keep it simple. You tap the pen against your lips and click click click it.
/Before the 67th Games, my team gifted me hearing aids. Thought it would help./ You pull away for him to read, staring at the page before taking it and adding in a new line, /Didn't think I'd make it deaf./
The look on your face told him how much that bothered you—or, at least, a whisper of how much it used to bother you. He thinks you may be used to it by now…
"Seemed to work, huh?" he asks with a slight chuckle in an attempt to brighten your mood again.
But you shake your head as you pull the notepad back. /When Games started, too much. Ripped them out and ran./ You sigh gently, swallowing thickly. /Couldn't handle it./
He listens in, his full attention heeding your words. "So you never wear them?"
You shake your head. /Do not like to./
He nods gently. "Because it hurt?" he asks, trying to understand.
You think for a moment before raising your hand and shaking it like before, meaning a different thing this time. /Kind of,/ you write.
You sigh and raise your hands, loosely clawed in front of you as you bring them into your chest in fists. Then you pick up your pen to translate. /Trust me?/
He nods. "Yeah."
/Sure?/
His second nod is more firm. "Yes."
He watches you grab a hand towel. You lift it up, gesturing to him with it and he nods his approval once again. You step behind him and tie it around his head to cover his eyes.
After you blindfold him, sure that he no longer has sight, you turn off all the lights and spin him around a couple times before you lead him into the living room.
Without his sight, Finnick is reduced to having to let you lead him where you want him. And he trusts you. He sways on his feet for a moment, standing still when you stop guiding him again.
"Can I look now?" he asks, his hands out by his side blindly if not for anything but balance.
He hears your voice, the slight sound of you clearing your throat before humming gently, like you're feeling for it. Then he hears your broken response, unaccustomed to actually speaking.
"N-o," you mumble. He smiles a little, and you think he's weird—in a good way.
After a moment of silence where the both of you just stand there and do nothing, he feels you begin to remove the towel from his face. You don't give him a chance to adjust to the dark, you just flip the closest light on and let him have it.
He winces, shielding his face as the shock sets in. You smile gently as you apologize, rubbing your fist over your chest in a circle. When his eyes adjust to the light once more to look at you, your smile is still a fond apology as you motion to your ears.
He breathes lightly. “That’s what it felt like for you?” You make a “bigger” motion with your hands as you nod. “That’s awful,” he mumbles.
You shrug as you begin to walk back to the dining table to grab your pen and notepad again. As you take a seat on the sofa, you bring your legs up under you and invite him to sit beside you. He watches you write something as you prop the notepad against your thighs. You show it to him when you finish.
/What do you like to do?/
He is happy to answer as he settles back and thinks for a moment before offering his reply. You sit and talk back and forth for a long time. You don’t really keep track as you learn that Finnick loves to swim and he dabbles in cooking when he can. You learn that he likes the color blue, but his favorite color is probably white. You learn that he is a “live life like it’s your last day” type of person because of his experience with the games (a philosophy you have adopted yourself in a smaller intensity). You learn that he’s more fond of the quiet than the rowdy crowds he’s grown accustomed to.
Finnick learns that you also like the water, but you enjoy sitting under the surface and feeling like the world is just as silent as you in a way that isn’t so interesting to the rest of the world. He learns that you don’t have a favorite color but you always say green, that you’re not a people person but everyone thinks you’re a person who loves people, and that you like to watch Hecton play the guitar while he lets you set your hand on the body of it to feel what he plays.
You don’t know when you fall asleep on the couch, laying against the back of it with your head turned toward the large, cushy pillow that supports your head. You’re curled up against it, and Finnick thinks you look precious. He’s not long after you as he dozes off on the couch. Neither of you touch at all, hands to yourself as you let the night ease on around you. But the presence is comfortable enough, you’re happy for it.
But sometime in the night, you don’t know when, how long the passage of time had gotten to be, the calm that had set over you slowly began to fade and slip into something a little more unnerving. Uneasiness sets in your bones, makes you queasy as your fingers twitch. You hum, a groan that slips from between your lips and rouses Finnick as he opens his eyes and glances your way, eyes still heavy with sleep.
He starts to sit up as he sees you shift, your breath quickened and your muscles twitching. He calls your name gently, a first instinct he immediately realizes isn’t going to work. He hears you hum again and begins to reach a hand out. His fingers hardly brush the skin of your arm when your eyes suddenly open. You’re muttering something intelligible to yourself as you glance around frantically, eyes glazed over and movements full of adrenaline.
“Woah, you’re good,” he tries as you grip the cushions on the couch. It’s too warm and it’s cushy and you don’t want to be up there anymore. He’s still trying to ease you, hands out like you’re a frightened animal ready to attack him. You slide off the couch and onto the floor, where the cold hardwood greets your skin as you catch your breath, your face tucked between your arms as your whole body heaves for air.
He lets you stay there, concern written all over his face as he tries to figure out what the issue is. He guesses they’re just nightmares, bad, ugly nightmares that he, himself, has faced over and over and over again. He waits and waits and waits for your body to steady and for your breath to calm, keeping his hands out but away as he waits for you to recover.
When you’ve calmed down again, you lift your head and sit back against the floor, turning toward him with lethargic muscles, your adrenaline already waning as the exhaustion from before trumps everything else. You catch the movement of Finnick’s lips from out of the corner of your eye and turn to see him speak. “What’s wrong?”
You breathe in slowly, filling your whole chest as you gather yourself enough to answer. You stroke a circle over your chest with your fist, a movement he remembers seeing you do earlier when you were apologizing to him. He shakes his head gently, slowly shifting off of the couch to join you on the floor, giving you space as he props his elbow on the cushion.
“S’okay,” he says, his lips moving gently around the word. “What happened?”
You breathe out slowly, still centering yourself. You lean toward the table, sliding the notepad over with lazy movements. You contemplate before writing. /Vibrations./ You show it to him and he tilts his head. /I sleep with my hand on the floor. It lets me know if someone is coming, I can feel the footsteps in the ground. It wakes me up and keeps me out of trouble./
The way you write is different now, filling the missing blanks of words you’d usually leave out because they were unnecessary. Like you’re too tired to summarize, letting the words do their job as you slump against the table like you haven’t slept in ages and are simply going through the motions.
He moves slowly, letting you see what’s happening before it happens as he sets his hand atop your own on the table. You don’t move, glancing at his hand and letting it happen as his skin brushes yours. He feels honored.
“Well,” he says, “you’re safe here.” With me.
You manage to pull the corners of your lips up into a small smile, turning your hand so his rests in your palm. You raise your free hand to your chin. /Thank you./ You take a moment to sit there, looking at each other and enjoying the feelings of your hand in the other’s. Then you pull your hand away regretfully and pick up your pen.
/I should get back to my floor before my people worry./
He reads it off and nods. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” he sighs, already moving to stand to his feet as he holds his hand out to help you, hoping you would accept. When you do, he smiles. You lift yourself to your feet and give him another of your best in this condition.
You pick up the notepad one more time. /Thank you for the sweets. And for the company. I liked talking with you./
He puts a hand to his heart, too heartfelt to be teasing as he dips his head slightly. “My pleasure.”
Finnick walks with you to the elevator, standing by you in silence after the button is pressed as you both wait for the doors to slide open. When they do, you step in and offer yet another warm smile as you sigh and wave, mouthing the word “bye” as you depart from him, sad to go. He mouths the word back to you, though you’re not positive he spoke them as he offers a small wave of his own.
The doors shut and Finnick misses you already.
~
The blaring lights, (otherwise) deafening crowds, and extravagant costumes are something you get used to and never get used to all at once. All the attention is on you, and it's your job to make sure they are entertained as you make your way onto the stage with Hecton's at your side.
Lucky is standing, that unnervingly large grin tearing his face in two as he watches you excitedly. His hand is extended toward you, both to show you off and welcome you in.
"Hello, my dear!" he exclaims theatrically as he takes your hand. He places a kiss to your knuckles and then shakes Hecton's hand as well. You all take your seats, your smile the picture of thrilled.
"It's been a while since we have last spoken, hasn't it?" He stops dramatically and then says, "Well, a while since I spoke to you, at least." The air is on the fritz with cheers and laughter and more clapping as you look around at everyone. Lucky's laughter is just as wide. "How have you been, Y/N?"
You look at Hecton, your smile and his set in perfection. He speaks as you sign, beginning his role as your ultimate translator. "I've been great, Lucky. I've missed you!"
His big brows furrow as he slaps a hand over his heart. He turns to the adoring fans. "Oh, isn't that sweet?" He laughs again and looks back at you, his expression calmer but no less dramatic. "I have also missed you, my dear. Now, tell me, this is a tour for some of our previous victors, have you met any of them yet?" He leans in like you're sharing a secret.
"I'm glad you asked, I have. It's been great getting to be reacquainted with old friends and making new ones."
"Ooo," he says, looking around and encouraging the crowd to join in. "New ones like who?" He sits up straight and brings a finger to his lips, glancing away and smiling slyly. "I know I have it from a reliable source that you were mingling with District 4 Champion, Finnick Odair." He leans forward with narrowed eyes. "Do I sense something blossoming?"
He and the crowd tease you, making lovey dovey noises that you don't hear but definitely feel as you glance at Hecton and he raises his thick brows in amusement.
"Oh, Lucky," you smile like you'll laugh as Hecton continues to read your hands. "I wish I could agree, but who am I to say?" You shrug it off with a sigh.
"Oh, really?" he jabs. "Because when I brought it up with Finnick, I believe he described you as 'a special kind of beauty'." This riles the crowd up even more, they cheer louder and the air feels suffocating. You smile through it.
"Did he now?"
"He did."
Lucky laughs dramatically, Hecton laughs less dramatically, and the crowd eats right out of the palm of your hands.
"Well," Hecton says as you catch the attention again, "you know I'm not one to gossip."
"Ohh, not just this once?" He says it like he'll cry.
"I wish I could."
He sighs heavily. "Oh, well." The crowds 'aww's and you give an apologetic smile to them all. Lucky leans over and takes your hand in his, which you then cover with your own. "It has been lovely catching up with you, my dear. And you, too, Hecton, my friend." Hecton nods. "I hope to see you again soon, both of you—I do so love our talks!"
"As do I, Lucky. As do I."
He puts both hands over his chest this time, smiling with sadness to see you go. "Would you give us a kiss before you go?"
You stand to face the crowd and kiss your hand, blowing it out to them as they scream and shout for you. You beam and look at them all, waving happily.
"Oh, fantastic!" Lucky exclaims as he stands to join your side, Hecton at the other. He takes one of your hands again. "It is always a pleasure."
"The pleasure is all mine."
He turns to the adoring audience. "Our Silent Spectacle, everybody!"
They scream and shout and you press your cheeks to Lucky's before you and Hecton leave the stage. Even after you're past the curtain where they can no longer see you, you keep the smile as wide as you can until it trembles out of place.
/Very well done, Y/N,/ Hecton congratulates.
You huff out a tiring breath, massaging your cheeks before regaining your posture and masking your frown with a much softer smile as you respond. /It's exhausting./
He offers a sympathetic look. /Maybe so, but they love it./ He glances at you again, noticing the fatigue in your eyes and your twitching lips, the nerves kicking from overuse. He sighs, taking your hand and turning you to him.
/You've got to keep them happy./
You look at him, how his words reflected a deeper worry, a double meaning that surpasses the gratification of your adoring crowds. Your eyes glue to his own, solemn, sober—a fair contrast from the faces surrounding you, drunk on the sap of their own self-importance.
/I know,/ you nod.
The tense moment is interrupted as a new player enters the arena. Hecton is the one to turn first, redirecting your attention toward the person approaching you. You immediately smile, an instinct by this point as you turn your gaze on your next audience. It only takes a moment for you to recognize the person, and your smile comes a little easier.
Seeing the situation before he approaches, Finnick wonders whether or not it would be appropriate to interrupt. But when your mentor turns and you turn with him, and you smile a more genuine smile upon seeing him, he finds that he doesn't really care if it's appropriate right now.
"You're quite the personality," he says as he steps up, smiling himself as he tilts his head.
"They love quiet, happy girls," Hecton translates as you sign. Finnick really doesn't think his voice suits you, coarse and thick with an accent hard to find.
"That, they do," he nods. He licks his bottom lip, "So you'll be headed back off today?"
You turn toward Hecton, your jaw clenching briefly before you turn back. "Soon. I've got some business tonight and then we'll be off tomorrow."
"Business?" he raises a curious brow, taking a small step forward as his lips quirked. "What kind of business?"
You tilt your chin, a nervous kind of smile on your lips as you move a hooked finger from your nose to your cupped hand. "Nosey," you tease, though Hecton speaks it flatly.
"Oh, it's a secret?" he wonders, even more curious now. He doesn't speak like a creep as he continues, holding that same teasing feeling while also offering his genuine curiosity. "I have a thing for secrets, y'know. I can keep it safe for you…"
You do it again, with a little more delight this time. Again, Hecton's translation holds no ounce of the delight you give off as you talk to Finnick. "Nosey," he repeats, this time with a little more sternness to get him to stop asking. You give him a side glance, but he isn't affected.
Before you can communicate anything else, Hecton's sets his hand on your lower back. It isn't patronizing, he's just used to guiding you, your protector.
"Come now, Y/N," he says. "It's time we were off."
You sigh gently but nod, still smiling as you glanced up at him. You begin to wave to Finnick, but he speaks as you're waving your hand.
"Am I free to visit down in District 10?" he asks, his tone light and playful to avoid sounding as hopeful as he feels. He's just met you, and he wants to know you.
You nod quickly, too eager. You move two fingers over your fist, missing the way Hecton doesn't translate. But Finnick can figure that one out himself.
His chest floods with relief. "I'll keep it in mind."
You wave. /Goodbye, Finnick./ The way you sign his name is different. Where he is expecting to see the familiar letters you showed him last night, he finds a wave of your hands and a fond smile.
He winks at you. "Goodbye, sweetcheeks."
You scrunch your nose, circling your hand over your belly. /Gross./
Hecton is already walking you away as Finnick blows you a cheesy kiss, mirroring the one you'd done for the audience earlier. You wave him off, smiling and shaking your head as you go.
When you're far enough from him, walking away from backstage to wherever you were headed now, Hecton's intense brows are furrowed in what you can only assume is annoyance at his distrust in Finnick.
/You seemed familiar./
/Stop./
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Music to My Eyes taglist: ... This is a temporary taglist for those who want to be tagged in the sequel to Music to My Eyes, Finnick Odair x Reader. Please keep in mind that once the second part is posted, the tag will disappear. Feel free to DM, comment, or send me an ask to be added, if you would like. Or simply add yourself here...
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desireve · 4 months
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cinnamon girl ¡ finnick o’dair.
summary : since secrets started you couldn’t get enough of Finnick.
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Oh you were is so much danger. That night signed you for the most heart-burning chapter of your life, not that you didn’t like it, but tainting your reputation for Finnick O’dair, you never thought you will fall this low. 
But you did, you fell so hard that you find yourself entering a hotel room, disguised in funky glasses and a hat, a far cry from the vibrant soul that normally graced Panem's lavish gatherings. Just with a lot of money.
As you stepped into the room, expecting nothing but a bed and the men you did all of this for. That evening, thought, the room smelled of sugar and cinnamon and the comforting smell smashed all your senses.
Faced to the window, Finnick awaited you, his charming smile lighting up the room. Under the Panem sunset, his smile mirrored the warmth of freshly baked pastries. Yet, it was the pastries arranged on the nightstand that got your attention, making your mouth water involuntarily.
"Hey, darling," Finnick greeted, approaching you and playfully eying the funky accessories. "All this effort to see me? You've really put in some work," he joked, removing the accessories and placing them on the bed. Your response was a smile, accompanied by a gentle sigh as his hand brushed a lock of hair behind your ear. "If it's to see you... and those," you gestured towards the cinnamon pastries, "last night, you mentioned craving them, so..." his words trailed off, Finnick all proud and charming, you playfully tapped his shoulder. "You know how to charm O’dair ."
Finnick's gaze dripped with love, sweet as sugar and intense as honey. "You're doing it again," you whispered, shifting to take a pastry in your hand taking a gentle bite off that incredible brioche, still perfectly warm.
"Doing what?" he asked innocently raising an eyebrow and taking a seat beside you on the bed. Finnick, a master of words, charm, and love, knew how to make you flustered. "Admiring you is a crime now?"
"Everything we're doing is," you whispered challengingly, locking eyes with him. He grinned, tracing your cheek with his fingertips, and you met his gaze, the taste of cinnamon lingering on your lips. "But we like a little challenge, don't we?" he whispered, searching your eyes for echoes of love and approval.
Oh, he found them. You admired the blonde curls falling with meticulous grace, the eyes compared to the sea he so often spoke of, and the dimples craved in his cheeks, forming a smile that melted you, very.
"We do," you whispered, gently tracing your fingertips in his hand, that rested on the bed. Your touch traced his knuckles, and as you gazed at each other, the silence hung between you. The sugary feeling of the pastries lingered on your lips, you were ready to be spoke about them, but before you could, his lips met yours.
This time, it was Finnick whose mouth watered. Your dreamy gaze made every secret gathering, every risk taken, worthwhile. He was a madman, and you loved him for it.
The kiss wasn't a mere repetition of the last one. It kindled warmth under your skin, painted your cheeks in shades of red, and unfolded slowly as both of you smiled like fools. Fingers finally interlocked on the bed, hands gently caressing the nape of your neck, eyes closed, and chests dangerously close. It was passion, but in an endearing, almost foolish way.
Under the sun's burn, the beautiful man before you shone, delightful. The kiss ended, but the warmth lingered as your foreheads gently touched. Breaths synced, light heaving, and heartbeats synchronised, marking hearts finally happy to interlock again after nurturing them with so much love.
Finnick looked at you, still searching for your recovered breath, eyes glossy, and cheeks tinted with a delicate pink. He licked his lips gently. "Very sugary, darling." A soft chuckle escaped your lips, and his hand slid from your neck to your waist. "Oh, shut up."
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sorry for the ones who don’t like cinnamon 🤭 I love my babies, lana del Rey reference 😩
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luxbub · 3 months
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100% finnick would massage your feet and your shoulders and he’s GOOD at it
I cant stop thinking about that side of finnick, i mean he is the king of massages!!
And especially after a stressful day and you come home as if like the whole world is weighing on your shoulders, finnick would massage you SO GOOD. He just can’t help it, with your lips in a little frown and slumped shoulders, he just has to do something about it.
So he sits you both down on the couch, gently pulls your legs into his lap and starts kneading the skin on your feet. He slowly trails his hands higher and higher up to your calf and something about his hands working at the tension in your legs makes you whimper at his touch.
Maybe some time after, you would turn to lay on your stomach and finnick’s thighs would go on either side of your hips, as his hands start trailing across the taunt muscles of your back, the tension melting away.
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leviathanspain · 5 months
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OMG I am living for the Finnick content!!! Could I request something with angst to fluff, with the prompt “look at me, look at me, you’re okay, we’re okay”? Maybe set after catching fire when they both wake up in district 13? Thank you!!
watercolor eyes
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finnick odair x reader
synopsis: you didn’t think you would ever see those watercolor eyes again…
a/n: i used hearing loss as reader’s injury, there is no real explanation, so make one up :)
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
it was a stunning color, almost indescribable. he was saying something, his hands moved frantically, you could see them in your peripheral. yet you remained in a trance with his eyes, watching them as they frantically searched yours. then, you realized his lips were moving, and you couldn’t hear him.
“do you think she can hear us?” he blinked, refusing to get emotional at just the thought. from how close you had been, it definitely could’ve resulted in hearing loss. the rescuing of who they could get in the arena didn’t go very well, and he hated to admit that he almost lost you. how he lost peeta and johanna, something that already weighed heavy on him.
suddenly, a scream erupted from you. finnick rose from your side, hands trying to calm you down. you were getting redder as you screamed, exhausting yourself.
“y/n!” he shouted, hoping you’d hear him and stop, but didn’t realize that you were screaming because you couldn’t hear your own voice.
you were panicking. from the looks of finnick, he could hear you, but you couldn’t hear your loud screaming. you felt the vibrations of your own voice, hand at your throat. but nothing was heard. your breath hitched as the stark realization dawned on you. you couldn’t even hear ringing in your ears.
helplessly, you gripped finnick’s arm as he searched your eyes. a doctor practically sprinted towards you. you panicked, gripping onto finnick as you fought off the doctor, a syringe in his hand. you screamed again, now out of reflex. finnick was trying to calm you down but it was hard for someone who had gone temporarily deaf. or at least he hoped it would be temporary. there was no knowing the damage.
“y/n.” he spoke as if you could hear him, shouting wouldn’t change things. you could feel his fingers on your cheek, gently wiping them as tears escaped your eyes.
you wanted to look at him, focus on his eyes, imagine the engulfing waters of the ocean, free to take you and finnick to places you could only dream of.
but the needle stabbing you wouldn’t let you float your mind away.
you wouldn’t be able to hear the ocean, let alone see it.
you grilled finnick’s arm, eyes fighting to stay connected to his, but they fluttered shut, getting one last glimpse of those watercolor eyes.
finnick watched as your eyes fluttered shut. he had been comforting you in a way he knew wasn’t helping. “you’re okay…” he whispered, “you’ll be okay.” he brushed a hair from your voice as your expression calmed. the doctors had decided to sedate you upon your outburst. “i’m sorry.” he whispered more, laying you down back into the bed, words repeating like a broken record.
it had been a week.
your ears were still sensitive, and you had been ordered to stay away from any and all loud noises, which meant you often stayed behind for when president coin called her meetings.
katniss had been making progress, from what you had gathered in whispers from finnick.
“only whispers.” he had whispered the first words you were able to hear. “doctor’s orders.” he smiled brightly. you exhaled, nodding as you matched his whisper. even the sound of your own voice was excruciating in volume. you had tried to force yourself to get used to loud volumes, but it was impossible.
it was more pain than it was worth, that even sometimes the whispers were too sharp.
so you and finnick often settled for a comforting silence. he would hold you in his arms, brushing your hair from your face as you stared deep into his eyes.
he grounded you, from the moment you met him, he had been nothing but kind. he loved you, killed for you, saved you.
“i love you.” you whispered so quietly you wondered if he could even hear you.
he looked down at you, having glanced away for a mere moment. his smile extended up to his eyes, “i love you more.” he whispered, still careful to be quiet.
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Other Parts: Part Two, Part Three (short version) Part Three (long version) and Part Four.
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You were the younger sister of Johanna Mason from District 7. You were her only remaining family and were put in the 73rd Hunger Games as punishment for your sister's behaviour after she won her games. They thought killing her only remaining family member would convince her to behave and stop being so reactive. It of course didn't work because you won the Hunger Games.
They'd underestimated both you and your sister. Johanna had suspected they might do something like this so had been quietly training you and teaching you survival skills since she got out. Then when your name was called and she became your mentor, she put every fibre of her being into making you win this. She taught you how to play the game, how to appear pretty, charming and get sponsors. Caesar commented on how unlike Johanna you were. "You're a lot more likeable than your sister" he said plainly and you smiled, pretending you weren't visualising pulling his tongue out through his teeth. You were exactly like your sister and proud of it, you just had to play a different game to her.
When you won and were let out Johanna was right there waiting for you. It was the first and only time you saw your sister cry and the trauma brought you both closer. You managed to form some life for yourself, you became friends with the other tributes and tried to keep your head down but you weren't good at that and neither was Johanna. Then Snow announced his stupid spin on the games and you were reaped...and Johanna volunteered as tribute instead of you.
There was nothing you could do as you watched your sister be submitted for the games again and you were furious. So it was of no surprise that when the rebels contacted you, you jumped at the chance to sign up with them. That's how you found yourself in District 13 at the end of the quarter-quell games. You watched Katniss, Beetee and Finnick come in but not Johanna. She'd been captured and while Katniss was freaking out about Peter you wanted to scream because nobody was bothered about your sister, nobody except Finnick.
He came to you as soon as he was able. "Y/n I'm so sorry" he told you "I went to look for her, I tried to find her I really did, I promise" he told you and you nodded "I believe you Finnick". He was the first person you cried with over your sister.
You found out after that, that Finnick had lost Annie. Apparently, she'd had a breakdown from all the stress and the drugs they gave her were too powerful. She'd overdosed the first night Finnick went into the games according to Heavensbee. You had no idea and hadn't heard anything about it but that was the capitol and you had been distracted with a rebellion. With your mutual loss, Finnick and you bonded. You'd always gotten along but you'd never been close which didn't make too much sense.
As soon as you became a victor Johanna introduced you to her victor friends and you hit it off with Finnick immediately. You were both social butterflies who could charm and flirt with pretty much anyone however after a few parties where the two of you clearly were the centre of attention, you felt him pulling away. You asked Johanna about it but she'd just shrugged and said she didn't know anything. So you'd remained civil but never been that close again, until now but in a completely different way.
You responded to loss a lot differently to Finnick, but then again your sister was alive while his love was dead. You could've argued your sister being alive and tortured daily was worse than being dead but didn't think that would help Finnick. The second he found out about Annie he fell apart. He had to be hospitalised and was a shell of himself. You'd responded to your sisters's loss by throwing yourself into work but everyone grieves differently.
You heard sobbing as you passed the medic bay and knew immediately who it was. You unlocked Finnick's door and he turned away before he saw it was you. He wiped his face and sat up. "It's okay" you told him "you don't have to stop". Finnick looked at you and shook his head "any news?". "No but that's not why I'm here, I'm not great at comforting people but I'm here for you Finnick. My sister would want me to look out for you". Finnick paused and then smiled. It was a sad smile but it was a smile. "It's funny" he said "because she said if anything happened to her, I had to look out for you". You smiled sitting down on a chair at the end of his bed "well funny how things change huh? Now, when was the last time you showered, ate or went for a walk?". Finnick shrugged "I don't remember for all 3". You nodded "well that's where we'll start".
And that's what you did for the first week. You visited Finnick for every meal between shifts. You took him for walks around the corridors and made him shower. You stood outside with a towel and clean clothes for him. You figured if he started acting more human it would make him feel like one again and it slowly worked. His appetite increased, he dragged his feet less, he cried less. There were still down days, one day you walked in to find doctors with him and heard he'd cut himself having nightmares so you spent the next few nights asleep at his bedside, ready to hold him down if he tried to hurt himself. Your life revolved around making him get better and you weren't even sure why, neither was Finnick.
"Why are you being so kind to me?" he asked one day when you revealed the sugar cubes you'd snuck into the kitchen and stolen for him. You passed him the cubes and looked at him "because we're friends and you'd do the same for me". He nodded "I would have but you aren't the most touchy-feely sentimental victor". You smiled, pleased Finnick was feeling well enough to poke fun at you. "That's true but I have a soft side to me, Johanna and I both do". Finnick shot you a look "see you I can believe but Johanna?" and you laughed.
It was nice to feel happy and you felt a sharp jolt of it, before remembering where your sister was. It suddenly hit you she was somewhere being tortured as you spoke. Finnick saw the look on your face and didn't have to ask what you were thinking. He gently took your hand. "It'll be okay" he told you "we'll get her back". You nodded and squeezed his hand "I thought I was supposed to be the one comforting you?" you said. Finnick shrugged "we're friends remember?" and for some reason that made you smile like a goofball.
Once Finnick was discharged from the hospital he began taking an active role in District 13 and you helped him settle in. He was moved to a room just across from your own for stability and even though you didn't work together, you sat together in the cafeteria and spent most evenings together. One of the main perks of being an ex-victor/murderer was you got special training with fun toys courtesy of Beetee. You were down there every free minute you had but you felt like Finnick wasn't using this to his full advantage.
"Can you give me tips on how to throw?" you asked Finnick one day after work. He blinked and looked up at you "as I recall, you have a pretty good arm on you already" and you smiled remembering the time you accidentally hit him in the face thinking he was Joanna. It was at a Capitol party, one you'd actually enjoyed and the memory was a good one. "Yeah short range but not long-range, I want to know how to throw a spear or maybe a trident. Know anyone who can teach me". Finnick did not look in the mood but you gave him your best smile and he couldn't resist. "Fine" he pouted getting onto his feet stroppily "but not for long, I'm shattered". You grinned "yay thanks Finnick!" and gave his arm a squeeze before pulling him down to the toystore of weapons.
You saw Finnick's eyes twinkle as he saw the trident Beedee had made for him and smiled. Finnick swirled it effortlessly around himself looking very hot as he did it and he knew it. He turned to you, his shoulders lifted and confidence risen "so, let's get started".
Finnick had you throw a few spears first and after observing he began to adjust your posture and angle. You got better with the spear but couldn't seem to get the trident anywhere near the target. "You've got good power which is no surprise" Finnick smiled "but this isn't an axe, it's bigger and heavier. That's why your aim needs to be better for the trident to find its mark". You nodded before a thought occurred to you "have you ever thought you could be pitch Pitchfork Boy instead of Trident Boy? I mean a trident and pitchfork are basically the same thing". "What? No they not! They're completely different!" Finnick said utterly flabbergasted by your claim and taken-aback by your sudden declaration. "But they are!" you argued continuing the fight "long stick, 3 spiky bits at the top!".
Your bickering escalated and your arguments became sillier until finally, Finnick couldn't stop laughing. You weren't sure if it was because of how strange your argument was, he actually found you that funny or a semi breakdown but either way, it was the most you'd heard Finnick laugh since this all happened. He had tears streaming down his face and he was laughing so hard he had to sit down. You sunk down beside him also laughing and when you both caught your breath he smiled at you. "Thanks Y/n". You looked at him "for what? Being so hilarious?" and he smiled again. "For reminding me there are still things to live for like having a laugh with you". There was a lot of weight in those words and you could tell Finnick had really been contemplating if there was anything worth living for. You should've suspected it but you hadn't and you were suddenly so thankful Finnick was still here. So much so you did something you never did...you hugged him!
Finnick was also surprised and tensed as you pressed up against him and wrapped your arms around him. "Thank you for staying here with me Finnick, I'm glad you're still here" you said into his neck and then Finnick relaxed and hugged you back. "Me too" he agreed.
Time settled and you stayed in the embrace before pulling back feeling slightly flushed. You were searching for something to say when Finnick spoke "I'm glad you got me to come down here and train, can we do it more often?". You nodded "as often as you want".
Finnick started smiling more after that and he was beginning to get back to his charming jokey self. Katniss commented on it one day when you and Finnick teased her for daring to change her hair up. Finnick smiled when she said how much better he was doing. "Well it's thanks to Y/n, she's the one who nursed me back to health and dragged me out of bed each day". You shrugged "nursed is a strong word but I did drag him around a lot". "Well good work" Katniss said "I'll tell Prim you might try out for nurse too yeah?". You showed her a finger and the 3 of you laughed. It was nice to hear your 2 friends laugh together.
Finnick kept you to your promise of training as often as he wanted and you tended to go every other evening after work. It was a stress relief in many ways but you also just enjoyed hanging out with Finnick. He was skilled and you learned a lot from him, as well as helping him master a few skills yourself. It felt productive, fun and you loved that you had something in your control. It was honestly the highlight of your week and Finnick agreed.
You'd had a really good training session so for the last part you got a little cocky. You were sparring with Finnick and decided to use the trident. You'd gotten a lot better at using it but still Finnick smirked as you picked it up "really?" he asked "baby you really want to use my weapon against me?". You felt a little fluttery when he called you baby but didn't let it show. You stood up taller and twirled it in one hand, the exact way you'd seen Finnick do "I certainly do pretty boy". The grin Finnick had on his face was delicious, so much so it was all you could think of for the first few seconds of your sparring match.
Finally your brain came back to you and you nearly knocked Finnick over with the staff of your trident but at the last second, he caught it. You knew the second his hand connected with it, it was gone and sure enough, he ripped it away from you. Finnick did it with so much momentum you stumbled into him and couldn't help but smile at how impressive he looked when he did that. Finnick grabbed your arms to stop you from falling and noticed the look on your face "why are you smiling I won?". "Did you?" you asked honestly thinking the situation you were in was pretty victorious. Finnick Odair standing over you, his hands firmly on your body while he stared at you with his brooding smoulder. Finnick chuckled as he got your point "I guess we're both winners then" he replied and let you go softly. "So that's a draw right?" you asked and just like that the two of you were back to bickering playfully.
After you talked at him until Finnick agreed it was a draw you headed to the showers for a quick wash before bed. You were only allowed a shower once a week so this was another reason you were both in such high spirits. "The way you hit the target without even looking was so cool!" you told Finnick as you entered the co-ed bathroom. Finnick shrugged "well I try, I've lost a lot of muscle mass over the past few weeks". "Well it looked pretty good to me" you smiled hanging your clothes and towel up. You pulled the shower curtain around you and got undressed. Finnick did the same in the cubicle next to you. You enjoyed your 5 minutes of warm water and totally forgot you'd not brought your towel into the cubicle with you. You peeked out of the curtain and sure enough, it was hanging across the room. You sighed, shut the water off and walked across to grab it.
It was late so there was nobody around and you had the towel in your hand and were about to wrap it around yourself when Finnick opened his curtain and saw everything. His eyes quickly took in your body before he looked away and you turned around. "Dammit Finnick" you commented and worked on getting the towel around you. You looked up and realised you were now in front of the mirrors and Finnick was staring at you through them. When he saw you'd spotted him he turned his back and you chuckled. You tied the towel and turned to him "if you wanted a look Odair all you had to do was ask" you smiled at him. Finnick's usual swagger had gone so you let it drop to not make it awkward.
You both dried off and gathered your stuff. You made conversation about how nice it was to be clean and Finnick gave you one-word answers. You said goodnight and stepped into your room. Your first thought was, it wasn't a big deal. You were friends and friends saw each other naked all the time! But then you thought about the way Finnick had been looking at you and there was no way of denying he was turned on. He liked your body and was attracted to you. You'd thought the two of you had chemistry back when you first met him but knew with Annie nothing would ever happen. However she wasn't here, it was just the two of you and Finnick could do whatever he wanted and judging from his eyes when he saw you naked, that was you. You debated your next move, should you just let it go? Wait for Finnick to approach you? Leave the moment and see if there was something there tomorrow too and build on it? You were never good at waiting so you decided to shoot your shot. You'd always wanted Finnick so why not go for him at the end of the world?
You crossed the corridor in nothing but your towel and knocked on Finnick's door. He opened it and looked at you "Y/n?". "I saw the way you looked at me when you saw me naked and I'm just going to be honest. I think you're hot and I want to sleep with you and I think you want me to. Want to do something about it?".
"Yes" Finnick said pulling you inside way quicker than you expected. He didn't even give it a second thought telling you he'd also been pacing his room thinking about you.
Finnick was just as eager once you were inside. He kissed you the second the door was shut and was so needy it was beautiful. He took control initially but as he got more and more heightened and his hands started pawing at you, you started to tease him. You pushed him down on his bed and held him down with one hand "hmmm is someone impatient?". Finnick made a noise reaching for you but you trapped his other hand with your leg "nope, I want to hear you say it. Tell me what you want honey". Finnick made a gorgeous moan and looked at you dead in the eye "I need you to drop that towel, jump on top of me and make that workout earlier look like child's play". You leaned back and loosened the towel "done" you said and let it fall to the floor before completing Finnick's other steps happily.
***
The next morning Finnick woke up and knew something was different before he opened his eyes. Then he did and he saw you laid next to him. You were facing the other way from him with your back to him and he started to panic. What had he done? Annie hadn't even been dead a year and he'd slept with another woman! He'd betrayed her in a way he knew she wouldn't have done to him. He felt like the worst person alive and then you turned around and he got it.
Finnick saw your face and couldn't help but smile. You looked so calm asleep. Awake you always had some guard up but asleep you looked so peaceful and naive. The lines the games had left on your face were gone and Finnick realised he felt happy just seeing you. You'd become the face he got most excited to see and it was almost instinctive now. He enjoyed seeing you peaceful and happy like this because he liked you. You were also so fucking hot. When he saw you naked yesterday his mind had nearly exploded! Your body was incredible, you had abs and your muscle-to-curve ratio couldn't be more perfect. So when you appeared at his door he realised he acted with sanity and clarity. He hadn't slept with you on a whim, he did it because he liked you and genuinely wanted to. He thought Annie would understand that and so he turned towards you.
He pulled you closer so you were resting against his chest. "Finnick?" you asked sleepily and he nodded rubbing your arm "yeah, don't worry is early. Go back to sleep" and you nodded. "Who knew your abs were so comfy" you sighed nuzzling into him and he chuckled. He kept his arms around you protectively and fell back to sleep.
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So guess who saw The Ballad of the Songbird and Snakes, went home and rewatched all the HG movies and fell in love with Finnick again?
This will be a four-part series and I'll be posting two more parts next week!
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targaryenluvs · 4 months
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LONELY WATERS
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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.
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destourtereaux · 2 years
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home is a person - finnick odair x fem!victor!reader
summary: Y/N and finnick have been best friends since birth. when both your names are drawn for the third quarter quell, you must figure out a way to survive, or if it comes down to it, for finnick to survive.
wc: 2.4k | see request details here.
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GIF by @thranduilsperkybutt
a/n: kinda inspired by my dear olive (@retvenkos) bc she is just a superb writer for SO many fandoms. how do we even compare?
Some people believe in soulmates. Others don’t. But you? You had already found yours: goodness in the shape of a human named Finnick Odair.
The two of you had been friends since you were born and Finnick was two. Your mothers had been the best of friends and it had simply passed onto your generation. You and Finnick had grown up together, standing by each other through thick and thin. His sarcasm was never lost on you, and your wit made him every time.
When Finnick had to go to the Games, you were hysterical – screaming and sobbing, kicking and punching at the Peacekeeper who had to come escort you out of the crowd. And when he came back, you thought the worst had passed, that everything would go back to normal again, and it had… but only for 5 years. Then your name had been drawn, and Finnick had hugged you so tight it took three Peacekeepers to pry him away.
But you had survived too – emerged victorious. But at night, the memories came back. Endless nightmares that plagued your sleep, refusing to let you rest as the screams of those you killed tormented you. The only thing that helped was the weight and warmth of Finnick’s arms – almost like a shield against your trauma. He understood you wordlessly, and it had always been like that. The two of you against the world.
A year after you returned from the Games, your friendship evolved into its final stage, and feelings that were originally completely platonic slowly morphed into butterflies in your stomach and blushes on your cheeks. And when Finnick had asked you to be his girlfriend, it felt like you could finally see the sun again, like the clouds were clearing up and you had been given something to live for. Until now.
You turned the TV off once the dreadful Capitol reporter had finished announcing the theme for Panem’s third Quarter Quell: a Hunger Games between victors. You were silent in your disbelief. Not once had you ever thought you would have to return to the arena, and so soon, too. You were barely twenty-one, and you had won the games when you were seventeen, just four short years ago, not even half a decade.
Your family turned around to face you, their eyes melancholy, but you didn’t care. You didn’t feel much of anything to be honest. You should’ve known the Capitol wouldn’t let anyone escape their twisted little games.
Without a word, you ran outside, shoving open the door to your house. Finnick was already there, having hurried over as soon as he heard to check on you. When you saw him, you burst into tears, as if his very appearance had broken apart the dam holding back your fear. You collapsed onto him, shoulders wracked with your sobs.
“Y/N. Y/N. Look at me. It’s likely they won’t even pick us. Our District has a number of victors to choose from. Don’t be so scared, darling.”
He reaches a hand to your trembling cheek, wiping away the tears.
“But Fin… I can’t go back. I can’t- I just. And I can’t lose you either. Not an option.” 
“I know, love, I know,” Finnick replies, as you nestle your head into the crook between his neck and shoulders. The two of you stay there for hours, as you cry yourself out and Finnick strokes your hair gently. “And remember,” Finnick whispers quietly so no one but you can hear, “I’ll always be with you. No matter what happens. You’re my forever.”
******
It was as though life thought you two had had it too good these past few years - and now you needed to pay it back in bad luck. Both yours and Finnick’s names had been drawn consecutively. 
But even as you felt your world crashing down upon you, there was a strange sense of comfort in knowing you and Finnick would still be together.
And you knew — if it came down to it, you would kill yourself so he would live.
******
The interviews were over, and you felt the shock reeling through you from the victors’ shared display of rebellion. You let go of the hand belonging to the tribute on your right with a solemn nod, but you grasped the one in your left hand even more tightly.
“Princess, I’m losing circulation here,” Finnick teased, earning a glare from you as you wrenched your hand from his grasp.
The young man chuckled at your displeasure, pulling you into his side and muffling your protests. “I’m kidding. Please hold my hand again — come on. You know I was kidding!”
If only moments like these could last forever.
******
You wondered why the gods were so cruel. The arena turned out to be a clear lake surrounded by woods, putting you and Finnick at a distinct advantage. At best, you would gain the jealousy and rage of other tributes, and at worst, it would end with the two of you, each unafraid to self sacrifice for the other.
At least you had allies — Katniss and Peeta, who reminded you a lot of yourself and Finnick, and Johanna. But even though the group of you were relying on each other at the moment, there was an unspoken acknowledgement of the fact that an alliance could only last so long in the Hunger Games.
Your combined sponsors had sent you five a number of gifts, including food, and a spout for water from the trees. You had to give Katniss credit for figuring that out — she had definitely saved your lives.
Day after day, you count the cannon booms, until there are only 10 tributes left. Beetee and Wiress had been adopted into your group, much to the distaste of Johanna. The seven of you had grown closer over your time together, you and Katniss especially. She felt like a little sister to you; an extremely independent and brave little sister. You two would often share stories about your district and your families. It helped a lot, being able to talk to someone who understood how you felt.
When you and Katniss had your talks by the beach, Finnick and Johanna were off on their own. He told you he was finding water, but you knew they were hiding something.
******
On Day 15, you could tell Finnick was nervous. His whole demeanour had changed. He went from a solid cornerstone to a ball of restless energy.
“What’s wrong, Fin?” you probed, “you need to tell me. We’re in this together, remember?”
“I love you, Y/N. You know that right?”
“Of course I know that. I love you too. But what is going on? You’re scaring me.”
“It’s better if you know as little as possible. You’ll be safer. Trust me, love.”
You raise an eyebrow, perplexed, but you did trust him. That much had always been true.
For the rest of the morning, the alliance works together on building Beetee’s trap, hoping it would take care of the District 2 tributes.
Suddenly, a dagger whizzes past your year, forcing you to take a gulp of air as you dodge. Panting, you send a signal up into the air — meant to alert Beetee. But when nothing happens, you realize something has gone very, very wrong.
You send a spear soaring back to where the dagger had come from, slamming deep into a boulder. A scared Glimmer jumps out from behind and grins smugly at you.
With not a moment to spare, you sprint toward Beetee's hideout and spot him bleeding out on the forest floor, a red smile across his throat. You let out a scream — a mix of grief and rage. And that’s when it happens: an enormous explosion, red hot and booming, rocks the arena, and a hovercraft descends from the clouds like a gift from god.
I’m dead. They’re taking me to heaven, you think.
The last thing you remember is Finnick jumping into the hovercraft and pulling you up. You’re clawing at his arms, desperately trying to get on, before a pair of stronger arms yank down on your airborne legs, dragging you all the way down to hell.
******
And hell you entered. When you woke, gone were the scorching sun and shimmering waters of the arena. It was replaced by a glaring white room; even your clothes were pure white. You lifted yourself out of the hospital bed and made your way to the window on your left. There, in the neighbouring room, was Johanna, but she was almost unrecognisable. Her hair had been torn out in patches and her skin was a pale, ashy grey. You audibly gasped, tears welling in your eyes at the sight of your friend. It would be you next.
******
Finnick was beside himself with anguish. How could he have let you slip from his grasp like that? Slip right into the clutches of the demons from the Capitol. He clenched his fists so hard he drew blood, crescents of red on his palm that reminded him of his failures.
You were his person. You had been his since he was a tiny little toddler watching his mom coo over you in your mother’s arms. From then to now, the two of you had always been inseparable. He had protected you from the bullies at school and you had always taken good care of him when he didn’t care about himself.
He had let you down. Why had he been so focused on the stupid plan? Curse Haymitch. The world be damned. All that mattered was you. He should’ve saved you first.
The next day in the District 13 cafeteria, Finnick pushed his grey slop around in his bowl, avoiding eye contact with Katniss.
“Look up, Finnick. Now,” the girl suddenly commands, her voice the most authoritative he had ever heard.
He looks up instinctively, eyes catching on the TV screen. It was you. You and Peeta. You were in a white frock, legs crossed and an arm on your chair. Your lips were locked in a sickly fake smile as you delivered your message: “Katniss Everdeen. Finnick Odair. District 13 cannot and will not protect you for long.”
“Surrender, and you can still see the light of day,” Peeta adds, his words stilted, almost as though it pained him to speak.
As the screen began fading to black, a scuffle broke out. Your face, pale and frightened, gazed directly at the camera as you forced out a final message, “District 13. Here today, dead tomorrow.” 
A crack was heard as you fell to the ground, and the signal cut off once and for all. Finnick was left staring at his own reflection in the dark screen, tears streaming down his cheeks.
President Snow, however, wasn’t affected by emotion, and she took your warning seriously. Ushering everyone down into the deeper floors, she shut the bunkers down completely and braced for impact.
By morning, more than 10 bombs had hit the District — each rattling the rooms. But Finnick paid all this no mind. He was too busy replaying your brief appearance on the TV. How skinny and sick you looked. The dark circles under your eyes were telling, and you looked so scared. It killed him. He didn’t deserve to live, while you died slowly by the day.
******
Every day for the next month, Finnick and Katniss got up early and knocked on the President’s door. He pleaded with them to please send a rescue team. To get you and Peeta and Johanna out of there. Out of hell.
On the last day of the month, the President agreed. “If this is what it takes for our little mockingbird to perform again, we’ll do it. But you’d better perform, Everdeen, once we save your little boyfriend.”
******
Both Finnick and Katniss were deemed unfit for the rescue team. Something about psychological and emotional instability. Finnick raged against this, but was drugged by a sheepish Gale. “We’ll be back before you know it, man. And your girl will wake you up.”
Finnick held onto those words like a dying man as he slipped under.
When he woke up, the compound was a mess of noise. Shouts came from everywhere. “Get the stretcher!” “Get me more of that endorphin!” and finally, “Y/N’s up. Someone! Go and find Finnick. Now.”
At this, Finnick jolted upright, jumping off of his bed. He rammed the door open and ran into a doctor coming to get him. 
“Mr. Odair, I must warn you. Please don’t be so brash when you’re with her. Ms. Y/L/N has been through a lot this past month. You would do well not to alarm her.”
Finnick nods, breathless as he speeds up his pace. He turns a corner, then another, and there. He sees you at last. Your hair strewn across the pillow propping you up, a doctor examining your irises.
He stops out of shock for a second, before rushing to the door of the facility. The doctor accompanying him swipes a card to unlock the door, and within a second Finnick is at your side, down on both knees and cradling your hand.
You glance at him in surprise, before recognizing that it’s him. It’s your Finnick. He’s here, in the flesh.
“Fin? Is that really you?” you ask, in such a weak voice that makes Finnick want to sob.
“I’m here, darling. You’re safe now. We’ll never be apart again, my love. I guarantee it,” he chokes out, each word threatening to make him cry.
“Oh, Finny. I’m so happy. I’m so, so happy. I missed you so much,” you respond, in disbelief still. 
The tears come silently this time, streaming slowly down your cheeks and falling into your hair. When Finnick sees this, he quickly gets up and embraces you, careful not to hurt you. Pulling back, he brushes your hair out of your face and wipes away your tears.
You’re reminded of a similar moment that happened just three months ago, although it seems like so much longer.
When Finnick places a gentle kiss on your forehead, you finally manage to process where you are. I’m home, you think. Because home, for you, is a person.
****** interested in other works of mine? see my masterlist!
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posionhaze · 4 days
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dollhouse
❥ summary: having to work with an old flame doesn’t exactly go to plan
pairing: finnick odair x fem! victor reader
warnings: brief mentions of prostitution | dark themes | slight toxic-obsessive behavior | some fluff!!
genre: I don’t even know
❥ words: 2k
please read at the end of the fic for more information 🫶
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
It hadn’t always been so tense between you and Finnick.
You were friends before his games- and before yours. You would have been the youngest victor, just a year younger than him- but of course he got to it first.
After he came back he was different, you expected that- but he had put up a front.
He had never told you what actually happened. What happened with Snow. You found out later- you witnessed it.
With that being said, you were reaped. Mags and Finnick himself mentored you.
Finnick never told you but he wished that you would’ve died in that arena. He knew your fate would be the same as his. Even at the age of 15 during your games, he knew.
He knew how sick Snow was.
You had made it out, purely based on hiding and stealth. You did it.
It took days, 28 to be exact.
They both thought you would’ve died off either by starvation or hypothermia.
You didn’t- you almost did.
You could recall the snow surrounding you, really almost choking you.
The arena was an iceland- cold and white, nothing to it.
You remember after your victory tour Snow wanted to meet with you.
You wished you had died in that arena.
Finnick remembers when you came back to the victors village- you hadn’t spoken to him or even looked at him.
That day you were never the same- like someone took your soul, and in a sense- Snow did. He did much more than that.
Three years passed, you and Finnick had brief interactions when needed.
He was the Capitols Darling and you the Capitols Doll.
Your eyes widened- why was Finnick here?
You were at a Capitol clients party as his side piece for the night- rather his doll. He was actually a regular, he wasn’t that bad considering the extent of the situation.
You didn’t understand why Finnick was there, he could only have been invited by your client…
“Oh! And I’m sure you know Y/n!” Your client says with a wide smile, arm wrapped around your waist.
You were wearing an extremely uncomfortable dress, not that it was bulky or unnecessary- no it was quite the opposite.
Thin and revealing, a baby pink mixed with seafoam green, clients request.
Finnick had a lady at his side, wearing an equally revealing and stupid outfit.
“Of course..she’s a doll..” Finnick replies with his charming grin- you knew it was simply an act. He reaches for your hand, pressing a kiss to it.
You saw the flash of realization in his eyes- you both had the same fate, the one he tried to hide you from.
You give him a sweet smile, letting out a giggle at his words, “You flatter me Finnick!”. Those words never felt more sour coming out of your mouth.
After that night you both grew close again.
You were often in his arms at night, both wanting a sense of normalcy, just for a few hours.
And for a bit it did feel normal, and at some point it felt real.
It was real, you both loved each other. You couldn’t pinpoint when it had happened but you guys ended up in something more than a friendship but never said it out loud.
Now of course you couldn’t tell anyone- not even Mags.
But somehow Snow found out, you weren’t sure how but he did.
Two years of peace disturbed.
Now you figured Snow had only talked to you- only threatened you.
He would’ve killed Finnick if you didn’t comply.
You begged him not to hurt Finnick. For Finnick you sacrificed what was left of you.
When you had gotten back to victor's village, you had ended it with Finnick. That day you broke his heart. Yours was already broken by Snow- much of you was.
You and Finnick stopped talking. Well you did, he didn’t stop.
He was insufferable, petty, pathetic but most of all someone you still loved.
That’s what you hated. That you couldn’t move on.
So it was a year of no contact for you, not playing into whatever game he was playing.
Not until the 73rd hunger games. Yourself 21, Finnick 22.
You both were chosen to mentor district 4. You didn’t know why- well you had a guess.
You and Finnick had two great tributes, a boy named Bay and a girl named Alana.
Bay was shy, a soft spoken teenager who just wanted to go home- while Alana knew what she was up against, she was more insightful- observant.
Alana and Bay knew each other, not very well but close enough to not hate each other.
“Y’know..you can’t spend all this time ignoring me, doll” Finnick says, looking at you from across the table.
It was the second day at the penthouse, you hadn’t spoken to Finnick since the reaping or during the train ride, you didn’t bother.
“Yes I can” You state simply, briefly glancing up at his beautiful sea green eyes. But you quickly avert your eyes, suddenly taking an interest in the glass of scotch you had been “nursing”.
“Really now?” He says with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, “And do you think that’s how an actual conversation works?” His voice is still playful, but he can’t help his curiosity.
Why were you ignoring his presence, why was it so easy for you to do after everything?
You wish you could tell him, let him in again, but you couldn’t. It would have pushed you over the edge, the one you were so close to falling off of.
It was painful having to keep up your capitol act, but you had to. Over and over again, night after night, party after party.
It was that- or have Finnick killed.
“Yeah- I do” You say with a tight lipped smile, focusing on the ice slowly melting in the liquor you barely touched.
“Y/n, you can at least attempt to hide the disdain, the fake smile, and the eyes that are screaming to run straight for the hills.”
Finnick can’t help but notice how you seem to act as if you never loved him, never cared. In that moment his face softens, a rare sight.
“Oh and, let’s not forget the drinks you hardly drink!” He teases a bit, leaning back in his seat. There was the Finnick you knew- the one who would pick and prod until nothing was left.
“You are such a pain” You say with a roll of your eyes, fighting back the urge to punch him in the face- really you would never do that, but it would feel nice to, at least in this moment.
“Yeah well it’s my speciality!” He smiles, leaning over the table as he takes the glass out of your hand- he finishes what is left in one gulp, putting the glass down before leaning back in the chair.
He’s still looking at you, clearly amused by how you act- you can’t help but wonder if it all is an act.
“Will you stop staring?” You grumble out, irritation clear on your face and tone.
“Only when you look at me.” He replies, leaning on his elbows, propping his chin up on fist.
He’s staring you down, he wants that reaction. It’ll tell him everything he needs to know.
And eventually you look at him, your eyes look dull and tired. Your mouth is a straight line.
You notice how his smile has disappeared- he studies you closely, like you did all those years ago- wondering what’s actually behind your eyes.
For the first time in a while you take in his features, his golden-bronze hair, and those sea green eyes.
Oh how you love those eyes.
You let out an awkward cough, breaking eye contact after a moment, “Bay and Alana seem good..I think Alana has a good chance of making it out..” You say, trying to distract Finnick.
“You think so?” Finnick says almost in a hum of approval, a smirk etched on his face.
Your distraction was futile, Finnick is stubborn- he’d get the truth out of you tonight.
He nods, “Bay, I can tell he’s a sweetie, a quiet one- but I think he’ll surprise us. Alanna though! Oh I’m putting my money on her- we’ll see her in that arena.” Finnick takes his eyes off of you for a moment, “You should help them with the training more, doll.”
“Stop Finnick- stop whatever it is you’re doing” You say, the tone of his voice- it disgusted you.
That look, his tone, why does he keep using it on you?
“Aw am I hurting your feelings? I’m so very sorry, doll.” There’s that damn smirk again, how did he not see the look on your face.
It was as if he was teasing you, enjoying the slight torture he was bringing on.
“I just want you to tell me those secrets you’ve been hiding..”
Your eyes flick up to meet his, “Drop it Finnick”
“No.” He replies, his voice sharp and stern- he wasn’t going to let you brush him off.
He reaches for your hand, your skin so soft under his fingers, your hand so perfect under his.
He brings it up to his mouth, and kisses one of your knuckles, “Just talk to me…please…”
But you could still feel his smirk.
You’re quick to pull your hand from his grasp, a sick feeling forming in your stomach.
“I’m going to sleep” You mutter out, leaving your seat and the table, going to your room in the penthouse.
“Damn it..” He mumbles, leaning back into his chair.
He couldn’t leave it alone, he just couldn’t.
He wouldn’t let himself rest either, getting up and walking towards your room- he knew you wouldn’t appreciate it.
He stands outside your door for a minute, trying to gather his thoughts.
Before eventually opening the door and inviting himself in.
“Go away Finnick..” You mutter out, not even having to turn and look to see who it is.
“No.” He says in a stern voice, but there’s hesitation in it.
“I’m not leaving until we talk.” His voice softens as he takes a step forward, “Doll, don’t do this…”
“Finnick..” You say, pausing momentarily. Maybe it was time to let him in again?
“I can’t- I can’t do this right now..” You finish.
“Do what, Y/n?” He steps forward again, closing the distance between you and him- his hands rest on the sides of your hips, chest against your back.
You can feel his breath against your neck, your muscles tense up but he just waits for your reply.
“Just talk to me, please. Let me in, doll.”
“Snow had found out about us..” You say blankly, “He talked to me, threatened your life..he didn’t want us together..because we were so- so useful to him..”
“I didn’t want to hurt you, I thought it would be better to just end it” You add on.
Your words didn’t come to a surprise, he knew Snow would find out eventually.
He’s silent for a moment, before his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close against him- he doesn’t care how tired you are.
You could feel the anger and rage building inside of him, towards Snow.
Finnick moves you in his arms, kissing your forehead before looking right in your eyes, “I still don’t understand why you never just talked to me about it…”
“I was scared he’d do something to you Finn..” You mutter out softly.
“I’m not that fragile, doll.” His lips brush against your temple, he can tell that you’re tired.
“I would’ve been fine, you know that right…”
You honestly didn’t know what to say, what could you?
“I’m sorry Finnick- I’m tired..I- I need sleep..” You say, pulling away from him. You wouldn’t let yourself go back, why wouldn’t you?
“This isn’t a good time....” You add on, averting your eyes again from him.
His grip tightens on your hips slightly- he can tell you’re pulling away from him yet again- and it’s driving him mad.
You’re refusing to let him in completely, refusing to let him love you.
“And I’m telling you- we’ll talk about this now.” He’s persistent, unwilling to be denied.
“Finnick..we’ll talk after the games, after this is done” You say, voice soft yet stern.
Your eyes meet his, both of you don’t say anything for a moment.
“Fine”
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
❥ notes: hi!! so this is my first fic on this blog- I want to say I’ve written fan fiction before, so I’m not new- but I’m not the greatest either! I’m new to the hg fandom, so bear with me if my work isn’t accurate or the best! I will be making a masterlist of who I will write for soon!!
❥ uploads certainly won’t be frequent or consistent- I’m sorry to say. I do have an old blog, which I won’t be mentioning. that blog negatively impacted my mental health so I wanted a fresh start with a new fandom and blog :))
❥ once again- I am new so sorry if this isn’t accurate or not the best!! I’d love for any comments or suggestions! I was scared to post this, mostly because of backlash but I hope this was good!! ☺️
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