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wonderlandwalker · 4 months

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After All These Years | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: You think he no longer cares, and he thinks you're better off without him. But the reaping for the 75th hunger games puts a dent in both of those thoughts

Content Warnings/Tags: Angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, insinuations of smut, kissing, once again not proofread

Requested by @rottingpeache: absolutely need to see enemies to lovers with finnick. “I really don’t like you.” “And I really don’t believe you.”

Word Count: 1k

A/N: No clue if this is actually enemies to lovers or just a poor attempt at it. I'm gonna go take a nap now but there is more coming cause the requests sparked something in me again so thank you to everyone who sent them!!

None of you had expected it to happen, how could you? But you've learned by now there is no point in fighting it either. So when you heard Mags’ name being called out and you volunteered in her stead, you suppose it was simply out of habit. In a world like this, the only thing that makes you feel like you are surviving is helping others do the same thing. As you stepped forward you could see the cameras zooming in on your face, trying to capture every expression you were making. You saw the cameras do the same for Finnick. Years of being in an unwelcome spotlight had made his poker face almost unbreakable, but the small furrow of his eyebrows and the twitch in his gallant smile told you everything you needed to know.

It wasn't until the next day that he first spoke to you. Over the years you would see each other, of course, you would talk. But at all the events and all the parties you did nothing more than exchange pleasantries. But now he came out of your peripheral vision and cornered you against the wall behind you with his broad arms.

“What were you thinking, this might be the stupidest thing you've ever done.” His demeanour seemed angry, he seemed serious. But you had no reason to match it, you just wanted to get under his skin like he got under yours.

“Be careful what you say, you might actually be the stupidest thing I’ve done.” you wondered if he remembered, if he remembered the night you had spent together so many years ago, it had been the best night of your life, and you had no idea if he even remembered. If he did, he didn't let it show.

“Did you even think it through? You survived the arena once, and only barely, what makes you think you’ll make it out alive again.” His voice was a low rasp, and if you didn't know better, you'd say he sounded upset. But you knew better, Finnick had shown you his true colours when he started avoiding you, and you did remember that.

“I wasn't thinking, how could I? All I could think about was Mags having to go through it all again, you more than anyone else know she deserves better.” you were looking him in the eyes now, and it took all of your willpower not to melt. “My games weren’t that long ago, I did it then and I’m still here, I can do it again.” He stepped closer to you, eliminating the remaining space between your bodies, his chest against yours, and you could feel his heart skip a beat as he spoke.

“Exactly, I was there, and it damn near broke me too. I was there to piece you back together. But I won’t watch it happen to you again, I can’t let it happen. Because what if I’m not there this time, what if I'm not there to put you back together.” There was a stark contrast between his face and his voice. As you looked at him you saw his eyes soften, and it gave you a glimpse of the Finnick you once knew. But his voice was still filled with anger, and it snapped you back to reality.

“And how would you know what I can and cannot handle.” You were challenging him now, but he had you matched.

“Because I know you. Even if you don’t believe so, I know what youre like, I know how you think. You might believe I forgot, that I ignore you and go on with my life as if nothing happened. But if you were to actually think for one second you would see that I’m simply doing what's best for you, I just want what’s best for you but now you’ve gone and ruined all of it in one day.

You’re at a loss for words, because maybe he was right, maybe you had gone and messed up everything with a single sentence at the reaping. But maybe everything was finally making a turn for the better, because for the first time, he was telling you he cared. And you’re thankful to finally see his thoughts shine through, but you’re overwhelmed too. So you turn around, you turn away from him, wanting to escape the confrontation. Except he’s not letting you go, not this time

“I really don’t care what you think Finnick.” You weren’t sure if you believed your own words, but you needed to get away from him.

“And I really don’t believe you.” You tried shrugging him off again, and you were about to turn away from him when you felt him grab onto your arm and pull you into him. As you looked up you could feel his eyes fixed on yours.

And so you do the only thing you can think of, you do the thing you want most in this moment right here, you kiss him. You tell yourself that consequences be damned, because even if he will hate you for it, even if you’ll regret it later, at least you have this one moment to get yourself through it, at least you didn't let your fears of losing him completely win this time. You kiss him as if everything will be okay, because when you feel his lips start to move in sync with yours, it is.

For a moment you think everything will resolve itself and you and Finnick can live together in a small house near the beach. For a moment you forget how much you hate him for everything he put you through. Because in this moment, if life could be like this moment, you’d forgive him for all of it. And you don't know it yet, but he’s even more scared than you are.

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lucy-gray1075 · 4 months

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finnick odair who catches all your food for you because he knows you despise fishing. finnick odair who convinces you to join him on his boat, so you indulge him and read while he fishes. finnick odair who always gives you his sweater at the beach if you get cold. finnick odair who adores campfire celebrations with all your friends. finnick odair who feels guilty for crying and not being strong for you. finnick odair who wants nothing more than to just stay on the beach watching the sunset with you for all eternity. finnick odair who swears he's going to marry you someday.

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theaawalker · 5 months

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I Promise [Finnick Odair x Reader]

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Song Inspo: About You Now by Miranda Cosgrove Word Count: 829 Series: 1 | 2 | ? Summary: a day of fishing brings reminiscence for you and Finnick. District 4 never felt like home, but you've always had each other. Finnick has his soul mark, as do you, but that doesn't change anything. You know he'll find someone better, but nothing is promised in District 4. Warnings: none Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly)

You loved fishing with Finnick. He was so good at it and you were very impressed. You also didn’t mind diving into the water as deep as you could to catch his eye.

It was like any other day, Finnick would cast out the nets and spear what he could and you would dive in to retrieve the nets. You had been doing this since you were kids and this was the first time Finnick wasn’t wearing a shirt. So let’s just say you were a little more distracted than usual.

As he pulled back his trident you watched his back muscles and noticed something. On his shoulder was a seashell tattoo. But this wasn’t any ordinary tattoo. It was a soul mark.

You looked down at your wrist and pulled your shell bracelets off to reveal a seashell soul mark identical to Finnick’s. He was your soul mate.

“What’s wrong?” He called to you. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing.” You said shaking your head. “I didn’t know you had a soul mark”

He looked over his shoulder. “Yeah. Do you have one?” You shook your head and he shrugged. “It’s too bad, I haven’t found her yet”

“Yeah, what a shame.” You sighed and turned to the setting sun. “Listen, we have to finish up.” You said, running and diving into the water.

You loved Finnick, but he deserved better. He was amazing and you were, well, you. He didn’t know you were his soul mate and it’s very possible for a soul mark to disappear when circumstances change. There had to be someone better to be his soul mate and that is what you would hold out for.

As you swam to the surface you were met by Finnick’s sea blue eyes staring back at you. His hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you close.

“My little fish was underwater for a very long time. Are you ok?” He asked concerned.

“Yeah” You nodded pushing yourself away from him. “I have to go” You said swimming to shore.

After the next few months despite your best efforts you fell more and more in love with Finnick everyday. You tried to stay away from him but it was almost impossible. Oddly enough you thought that maybe Finnick was in love with you too.

You were fishing one day again when Finnick spoke up. “You know I don’t think this soul mate stuff is true. I mean how can a mark on my body that matches someone else mean I love them. What if I already love someone else”

You couldn’t tell if you were upset or relieved so you nodded. “Well I don’t have to worry about it”

“I just wish I wasn’t carrying this on my back” He paused. “Get it?”

“Ha, ha” You said splashing him with water.

“Oh, you want to do that do you?” He said charging at you and knocking you backwards and into the water with him on top of you and your back against the sandy bottom.

When you both came to the surface you laughed but Finnick’s face turned serious.

“Are you nervous for the reaping next week?” He asked, breaking the happy moment.

“I don’t know.” You said shrugging. “I always wonder what are the odds.”

He nodded and looked off into the distance. “Yeah... I suppose.”

“Come on.” You said pulling him up. “It’s almost dark”

The next week went by and Finnick seemed distant. He was really worried about the reaping. You weren’t sure if he was right to be, but today would be the day to find out.

You dressed in your best blue dress and braided your hair back in a single fishtail braid. Sadly, you couldn’t meet up with Finnick before, but you would see him after. You hoped.

After you were all lined up in the square that’s when your nerves finally hit. You fidgeted with your dress and tried to crane your neck to catch a glimpse of Finnick. To your despair he was nowhere to be found.

As they drew the girl’s name you breathed a sign of relief when it wasn’t you. When they got to the boys you crossed your fingers it wasn’t Finnick.

“For the boys!" The woman called out. “Finnick Odair!”

“No...” You whispered. You watched in horror as Finnick walked up to the stage. “No!” You said running up after him the guards in quick pursuit. You grabbed his hand and gave him a hug. That was all you had time for before the guards were tearing you apart.

Finnick still had your arm and through all the grabbing and pulling your sleeve pulled up revealing your soul mark. Finnick saw it immediately. “I knew it was you. Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked desperately.

“I’m sorry.” You said as you were finally pulled away.

“I will come back to you!” He yelled as he was dragged into the justice building. “I promise!”

• ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ •

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coryosmin · 2 months

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watching a movie with finnick only to end up straddled on his lap still fully clothed & he’s just fingering the daylight out of u (the movie was also probably boring anyway)

— 💟

nsfw | mdni | fem!reader

imagine you’re watching some dumb rom com that you both sort of dislike. finnick is laying on the couch, you between his legs as his arms were wrapped around your waist. the both of you looked at the TV, watching the screen. but as you watched the movie, finnick’s hands began to move lower, his right hand at the hem of your pajama shorts and his left hand gripping your left boob.

“what are you doing?” you asked, trying to turn your head to look at finnick.

“continue watching the movie,” he replied, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck. and you listened of course. so you watched the movie as finnick’s fingers went underneath your pajama shorts and panties. he moved a finger up and down your slit, spreading your wetness.

“so wet already,” he murmured into your ear as he began rubbing your clit. you let out a soft moan, keeping your gaze on the television though you most certainly were not paying attention to the movie. you grabbed finnick’s arm, just holding it.

finnick was pressing kisses along your neck, massaging your breast with one hand and rubbing your clit with the other. he moved his fingers from your clit down to your hole, slowly inserting one digit. you let out a shaky breath, looking down at finnick’s hand.

“gonna make you feel so good,” he murmured into your skin, thrusting his finger in and out of you slowly. he eased you open, inserting another finger before curling them. you let out a loud moan, throwing your head back in pleasure onto finnick’s shoulder.

he thrusted his fingers fast inside of you, murmuring soft but dirty words into your ear. “so good for me,” he said. “taking my fingers so well. such a good girl.”

you whined, feeling that familiar heat pooling in your stomach. “so close, finnick,” you whimpered, your head still resting on his shoulder.

“go ahead, baby, cum for me, yeah?” he said softly into your ear. “my beautiful girl.”

you moaned, your walls clenching around finnick’s fingers as you orgasm approached. you let out a high pitched moan as you came, thighs clamping shut as you arched your back. finnick figured you through the orgasm, kissing your ear lobe and down your neck.

and when you came down from your high, finnick pulled his fingers out, bringing them up to his mouth and sucking on the digits. “you taste delightful, sweetheart,” he said, smirking at you. “let’s bring this to the bedroom, yeah?”

you smiled, nodding your head. “yeah.”

#minsasks #💟 anon #the hunger games #the hunger games imagine #the hunger games smut #the hunger games trilogy #thg #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair smut #the hunger games finnick

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loveliestlovelygirl · 3 months

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finnick odair runs the tightly woven string over his palms and through his fingers and ties it into knots, efficiently making a fishing net with his own two hands. You sit on the pier together, your feet dangling off the edge and over the dark waters. Intently, you watch him in admiration for his handiwork. You know that you could never keep up with him though you both grew up in District 4. He’s just very good with his hands in ways that you are not. Those are the same hands and long, nimble fingers that work magic inside you and touch where no one else has. Watching his hands and fingers move, bend, and manipulate the string into knots isn’t quite enough to tempt you to beg for him to take you there… right here, right now. But it is enough to make your heart race and your soul drown in memories of all the times he’s held heaven in his touch.

add yourself to my taglist!!

#divider by @mewryn #loveliestlovelygirl #lovely finnie thoughts #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick #finnick x reader #finnick smut #finnick odair smut #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #thg finnick #finnick imagine #the hunger games finnick #finnick x you #finnick odair drabble #finnick drabble #sam claflin #the hunger games

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gtgbabie0 · 14 days

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-Finnick Odair x Victor!reader

{Finnick strives to make you laugh for the first time since you’ve won your games}

Enjoy my lovelies💕

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺

Words were a hard thing to get out of you recently, you were so closed off… skittish, almost as if you were afraid of your own voice. Finnick couldn’t blame you in fact there’s not a bone in his body that could ever be mad at your recent behaviour, he understood better than most people.

He watches you with a soft expression as you sit at the kitchen table, losing yourself in a new puzzle. He admires the calm look in your eyes and the way you shift the pieces into the correct places with gentle hands whilst he prepares dinner, his eyes flicking over to you every now and then to keep a close eye on you.

The faint sound of rain pattering against the windows only seems to add to the tranquillity of the evening. Then the silence breaks, and your voice softly reaches his ears, “I’m stumped.” It shocks him a little, it’s evident in the way his eyes widened slightly.

“Stumped?… lemme take a look, honey.” He replies back to you, keeping his voice hushed as he walks over to you resting his palms against the wooden table to lean over you. His gaze flickering over the puzzle, studying the pieces with narrowed, concentrated eyes.

It takes only a second for him to pick the piece you’re looking for, gently snapping it into place with a smirk on his lips. “Oh… thank you.” You whisper softly, looking up at him with a small smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. He leans down to press a kiss on your forehead.

There’s a certain patience in Finnick, never condescending in the way he speaks or looks at you. If anything he’s the glue that holds you together, constantly there to anchor you back to reality whenever your mind drifts further than you can reach.

The memories were the worst part, you seemed to have a difficult time remembering what was real and what was fake… which caused you to forget a lot. Those special moments you shared with Finnick before the games are now tainted with a stain you couldn’t clear off.

Although there are moments where it flickers back slightly like embers of a fire that leaves a tingling warmth across your skin. The smallest things set it off, music for example. Soft notes of a familiar tune echo through the kitchen, there’s a sense of safety within the lyrics.

Finnick knows you remember the song and the moment you shared with him. It’s in the way your eyes glisten with fondness and that ever-so-small smile that begins to crack at the corner of your lips.

The pair of you glance at each other simultaneously as the gentle notes ricochet through the room. Finnick smirks over at you, extending his hand to you with a soft nod of his head. He waits for you to take him up on the opportunity, never forcing your hand.

He watches patiently as the hesitation flickers through your expression and relief washes over his expression as you stand up from the chair, your hand slipping into his slightly rough one.

“Do you remember this song?” He asks with a teasing edge to his tone although his expression soon melts with tenderness as you nod your head shyly and he takes this moment to place his hand against your hip.

Finnick brings you into him before gently swaying you both side from side. “I could never forget.” You whisper back to him and your words only fuel him to hold you closer.

Your shoulders relax and a sigh escapes your lips as you rest your head against Finnicks chest, the scent of sea salt and firewood sits against his skin and lingers within his clothes. It’s homely… warm within his arms, nothing can hurt you and those painful memories of the games take a backseat in your muddled-up mind.

The pair of you continue to sway gently, taking it one note at a time as you let the music carry you both. You feel Finnick’s chest vibrate slightly as he lets out a soft chuckle and before you can even ask why you’re suddenly being spun around, your breath catches in your throat as he pulls you back into him.

His hands fall to your hips and then he hears it, the sweet giggle that you let out and he freezes in place. It’s a sound that sends a familiar warmth blooming within his chest. “I love you.” He whispers, his hands caressing your hips and then up to your waist.

Your smile widens slightly at his words and you can’t help but wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him to you closely as he starts to press kisses all over your face. “I love you too.” You giggle in between the ticklish kisses.

The sight makes his heart swell with devotion. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen you like this, so at peace and so happy, he makes a silent promise to keep it this way for as long as he possibly can.

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sameschmidtdiffname · 23 days

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RIP Finnick Odair, you would've loved watching your child grow up

#and taylor swift #finnick #finnick odair #thg finnick #thg finnick odair #thg #thg series #the hunger games finnick #the hunger games #the hunger games series #hunger games #cf #catching fire #mj #mockingjay

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underoospeterparker · 1 month

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congrats on 600 (and 700!!)

wondering if I can get a 🐬!

Finnick Odair x “who did this to you?”

pls and tyyy!! I love ur writing sm

join the celebration

finnick odair x fem!reader, 0.6k words

You stumbled onto the beach, bending forward to press a hand against the growing wound on your leg. “Finnick!” You screamed, head twisting around in a desperate attempt to find him. “Finnick,” you tried again, looking over your shoulder to make sure that you hadn’t been followed on your way here.

“(Y/N)?” You breathed a sigh of relief when you heard his voice grow closer. When Finnick finally saw you, he broke into a run, catching you in his arms when you collapsed onto the ground. “Hi,” he whispered as a way of greeting. As soon as he noticed you were injured, he untangled himself from you. “Baby?” Finnick looked worried, lip caught between his teeth, running his hand in his thick hair. He leaned forward to inspect the cut.

He grimaced when he saw it, and you whined in pain when he pressed a hand to the bleeding gash, stretching from your mid-thigh to your knee. “I’m sorry, honey,” he apologised, but his face looked stern, which surprised you. “Who did this to you?”

You looked straight into his eyes when you said it. “Brutus,” you said, and his face hardened. “I was looking for berries like the ones Katniss used last year,” you continued, and Finnick nodded along, “and he came up behind me. I managed to duck so he only got my leg.” At the mention of your injury, Finnick looked back down.

“Shit, (Y/N), it’s really deep,” he whispered, looking up to meet your gaze. He softened when he saw you, your eyes swelling with tears. One fell onto your pale cheeks and Finnick reached up to thumb it away.

“Oh, angel,” he cooed, pressing your head back into his chest. “It’s okay. I’m gonna get you out of here, and then I’m gonna take care of you.”

You nodded, and he pulled away, pressing a kiss to your forehead and surveying your eyes, making sure you were okay. Then, he got to work. “Okay, sweetheart, I need you to put some pressure on it. We gotta stop the bleeding before we can clean it up.”

Finnick stood up, placing a hand on your shoulder and squeezing it. “Johanna?” He called out.

The girl popped out from behind a tree trunk. “Is (Y/N) okay?” She shrieked, and you smiled at her concern. “Do you guys need anything?”

“Could you get us some clean water?” He hesitated, then added, “use the spile, please!”

Johanna gave him the middle finger. “I’m not four, Finnick, I know how to get clean water.” She started walking away, then screamed, “What, did you think I was going to bring you saltwater?”

Finnick rolled his eyes affectionately, then turned back to you. “You holding up okay?”

His voice was softer than when he spoke to Johanna, and you appreciated it. You gave him a barely-there thumbs up and he gave you one of his best smiles. He stepped closer to you, then crouched in front of you, taking your hand away from your leg and pressing his there instead.

“I love you,” you whispered, a quiet confession, and Finnick looked up in surprise. This was the first time you’d ever said it. “I mean-”

“I love you too,” he reassured you, and you relaxed under his hold. You grinned at him, butterflies swarming in your stomach, so happy he felt the same way about you.

“I just wanted to tell you, you know, in case we don’t make it out of here.”

Finnick’s eyebrows creased. “We are going to get out of here,” he said slowly, making sure you met his eyes, “and you’re gonna be okay, sweetheart." He held out his pinky to you, which you clasped gratefully. "I promise."

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asterias-record-shop · 1 year

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𓆩[in our next life]𓆪

𓆩[join the taglist!]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[join the main taglist!]𓆪

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

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut, slight angst

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 23K

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

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - Use of Y/N || i promise I do not write like this in the fic- || reader was also forced into prostitution, but Finnick forced Snow to make them a pair || reader is definitely bi but has no (sexual) relations with women in the story || Finnick’s hand around your throat can be seen as sexual but it’s mainly just a comfort thing at this point || a lot of mixed timelines, sorry want it to play in my favor || mainly based on the movies bc I haven’t read the books in forever || Reader and Finnick are titled the Princess and Prince of the Capitol || you basically replace Annie || inspiration of your story from other characters || weird baby names inspired by the sea (cuz District 4, sea fishing etc) || This is so going to be a series- || smoking, smoking opium || This actually takes place in several different times, first the drawing for the Quarter Quell to the carriage rides where you meet Katniss and Peeta to the interviews to the literal Quarter Quell, being rescued, then skipping to after the rebellion is won (my darling doesn’t die, he didn’t deserve it <3). || Cinna isn't dead and he’s your stylist, and you and Finnick get married twice (once before the Quarter Quell, another after the rebellion) and of course he designs your wedding dress. || Finnick pulls a stunt like Peeta, turns out to be true later on || first marriage is televised a few days before the games, second of course is private || marriage ceremonies inspired by cultures, yes I’m giving District 4 marriage ceremonies and no I’m not basing this off the wedding in the movie, and this is my own little spin on the fic - I didn’t want the wedding to be boring || the party Peeta and Katniss go to in the second movie is your wedding || ngl, with these plans, I’m hoping this is long- || slight rift between you and Katniss at first, but you end up being best friends quickly || you make Katniss question her sexuality bc you top her for a minute- || CPR & mouth to mouth || Classic warning such as cursing, fighting, blood, death, and more to be wary of. || mentions of Finnick’s forced prostitution (brief, my baby has suffered enough) || smut is included in this; mentions of voyeurism and exhibitionism (explained in the story), breeding kink, size kink, oral (♀ & ♂), fingering, spit, slight choking, slight dom-sub dynamics, sex is definitely a coping mechanism, degradation, name calling (slut, whore, cumslut, maybe more?), probably dirty talk if you think about it that way, praise, mentions of a hazy mindset that could be seen as a subspace, definitely a soft dom turned pleasure dom turned rough dom Finnick, and more- just be wary.

—𓆩[CHAPTERS]𓆪—

𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER I 𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER II 𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER III 𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER IV 𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER V 𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER VI 𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER VII 𓆩♡𓆪 EPILOGUE

ALL CHAPTERS ARE UP!!!

—𓆩[DRABBLES]𓆪—

𓆩♡𓆪 N/A

—𓆩[EXTRA FICS]𓆪—

𓆩♡𓆪 N/A

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ervotica · 5 months

Note

"I'm here, I've got you-" with mentor!finnick right after reader wins the games?! ilysm 🥺🥺

pairing: mentor!finnick odair x victor!reader.

warnings: finnick greets you after you win the games, and consoles your anxiety. something more ensues…

hunger games masterlist

Your bruised knuckles shake where you wring them in your lap; the tribute quarters are so empty, hollow and bereft of any signs of life other than yourself. You've scrubbed your skin raw in the shower, still flushed and tingling from the coarse brush you used to rid yourself of the dried blood and dirt.

You want Finnick.

You know mentors are always the first to greet victors after the games, and you need him more than anyone else right now.

The door creaks your head snaps up where you're laying. He’s at your side in an instant, concern carved into his features as he reaches out for you.

You tremble at his touch; palm against your cheek, arm hooked around your waist as he begins drawing you up and into him.

"How are you doing?" he asks, voice low and soft and caring.

The tears well almost unconsciously, catching on your waterline and spilling down your hot cheeks.

"Not so good," you admit despite yourself.

"I know, honey. I know," he murmurs, tugging you toward him as gently as he can manage. You're in his lap before you can register what's happening, and you tuck yourself up small, head under his chin, shoulders under his armpits.

"I'm sorry," you cry, "I'm so sorry."

"Shh, you have nothing to be sorry for. You did everything you were supposed to." He kisses the top of your head, hair still damp from the shower.

"Okay." You nod vehemently, almost like you're trying to convince yourself that he's right, that you're not a monster after what you had to do in the games. "Will you hold my hand?"

Finnick smiles and it pushes his dimples out- they're crescent moon shaped. You resist the urge to reach out and touch them.

"Of course I will."

His thick fingers entwine with yours like puzzle pieces, like that's where they've always been, where they're always meant to be. You bring his knuckles to your face and hold them there, against your cheek as you rest on his broad shoulder. Your bottom lip starts to tremble.

"I'm here, I've got you," he murmurs. "I'm right here."

You tilt your head to gaze at him, uninhibited affection practically oozing from your every pore. He leans in- you’re close enough to feel his breath on your face.

Your lashes kiss at the corners as your eyes flutter closed and he takes that as an invitation. His lips slot between your own like they live there and the kiss feels like coming home. When he pulls back, you chase him.

He meanders away from your lips with his kisses: the corner of your mouth, your cheek, a lingering one on your forehead. Your hand, still laced with his own, is holding him so tightly you’re scared you’re cutting off his circulation. He can feel your anxiety.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

You’re smiling this time when you say,

“Okay.”

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wonderlandwalker · 4 months

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Remember | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: The capitol has taken you from him, but he won't let them keep you. You can find pt. 2 here!

Content Warnings/Tags: Violence, bullet wounds, major character injury, blood, needles, angst, fluff, no use of y/n

Word Count: 4.0k

Requested by Anon: omg I love your writing and I have an unhealthy addiction to reading angst so could you please write something about the reader being with peeta and Johanna when they where taken by the capital and her being with finnick and recovering while she’s in district 13? 🫶🫶

A/N: The way I smiled when I saw this request I swear. This one has been in the works for a little while and I thought it fit perfectly. It is angst you ask for and it is angst you shall get. I'm considering writing a part two but I'm not sure how to yet. My bad habit of not proofreading happened again and with this one especially it was way too long so if I made any major errors pls do let me know.

The Capitol.

You are currently in the Capitol.

At least that’s where you think you are. You remember being in the arena, you remember running towards the general direction you last saw Finnick, remembering the marks you had gone by in case you had to take a different route. You remember seeing Finnick's face through the plantation, you’d be able to recall those features anywhere. You remember something hitting you from behind and falling to the ground, too caught up in catching up with him to check your surroundings. You remember crying out in pain, hoping he’d hear you. But the next thing you remember is the vision of him slowly going out of focus and losing consciousness not long after.

At least that's what you think happened.

At least you can still remember, that’s worth something right? You remember your past, and you remember the reaping that led to the arena. The flood of relief that went over you as you finally found your way back to him. You don’t know what happened to Finnick, he was there too after all, but you had needed to split up early. Maybe he had been caught off guard too. Maybe he escaped. Maybe they never even found him. Maybe with him being the idiot he could be, he was probably already on his way here, looking for you. Just like you would have done for him, and he would have called you an idiot then too.

You would get out of here one way or another, that much you knew, but you needed to remember more, you needed to remember the last look on his face, you hadn't had much time to take it in, but you remembered the furrow of his eyebrows, the same expression he always had when he was trying to concentrate, you needed to remember that.

You knew that once you did get out of here, Finnick would be furious, telling you that you had been reckless, that you shouldn't have let your guard down, shortly after telling you how worried he had been. And it would feel like coming home.

Your mind becomes hazier, and it is harder to remember. You feel your head throbbing, and you move your hand towards it until you feel it can move no further. You open your eyes slowly, trying to adjust to the bright light that covers the room. You can't see much, can't move your head much.

You remember the rendezvous point you had talked about. You remember the quick “don't get yourself in trouble” and the kiss he gave you right before you parted ways.

You remember the layers of plants and trees you moved through, seeing some of them cut down, letting you know someone else had been there

But you know there is more, more that you missed. The stomped-out ashes that you ran past, you know you should have paid closer attention. But you can’t remember

You need to remember what happened. How you got here. Who got you here. If you really are in the capitol. But your mind doesn't want to cooperate anymore. The room is getting darker and darker, even though the lamp above your head is still dutifully buzzing

You wake up, you still remember where you are, or at least where you think you are. You still remember yesterday, was it yesterday? Why couldn't they just hang a clock in here?

You look up, and you see a device set up, not too far from where you're lying down. You try to get a better look but the light above your head is too blinding to see anything else in the room. You don’t fully understand it until a man walks into the room with a video camera in his hand and an expression on his face that seems just a tad too happy.

The camera starts blinking a red light, signalling you that it has started recording. The man has a sort of laser that he presses into your lower stomach, it doesn't breach your skin but it hurts like it does. It takes all your energy not to show him the satisfaction of it.

“Come on now darling, work with me a little.” He says after a while, changing the setting on the laser. The last bit of your energy is gone, and you can't keep the screaming from escaping any longer. It echoes off the white walls around you and when you hear yourself, you barely even recognize it. He seems satisfied with the result and finally puts the laser down. You look down but don't see any burn marks or indication of what has just happened.

He comes closer and you can see he is holding a sort of crowbar, but you're not sure why. You remember how you always left one outside your window in the districts, in case the wind had shut it and you needed to sneak back in. You remember Finnick finding out, giving you a serious, disappointed look, but not telling you to stop.

Before you can think of anything else, the bar hits you with full force, right above the spot he was previously focused on. You didn't expect it, and it knocks the little breath you had left out of your lungs. He hits again, not in the same spot, but close, he is very clearly aiming for your ribs. The switching between high-tech and old-school weapons has you puzzled, but you can't deny the result either of them has.

After a while, he stops, and with the added difficulty and pain that now comes with breathing, you are more than certain he just bruised a few of your ribs.

He walks back, taking the camera in his hands. He aims it at your face and you close your eyes to try and collect yourself as much as your current state allows. Your hair is a tangled mess and you are rather certain there is blood smushed over your face from the cuts you got in the arena.

“Smile for the camera sweetheart.” He asks, even though it sounds more like an order than a request. You open your eyes to look at him. He is so close, and you want to drive your thumbs so far into his eye sockets you can feel the front lobe of his brain, if he even has one. But you can't do anything, no matter how much you want to fight, you are powerless here. You close your eyes again, trying to block everything out and remember.

You remember District Four, the way the light summer breeze would always carry the smell of the beach to your house, no matter how hard you had it, it always livened you up. You remember the first time Finnick tried to teach you how to surf, being so gentle with you no matter how many times you fell off it, always there to catch you again. You remember your last birthday, well, the day after, but you couldn't even complain about that. He had picked you up from your place and brought you to one of the lakes with him. He told you the story of one of his birthdays when he was younger, along with all the embarrassing details, but of course, it only endeared him further to you. You told him about the presents you got and all the people who came to wish you a happy birthday. You told him everything you could remember. You remember last seeing his face, maybe it was the last time you will have ever seen it. No. No, you remember it, but you’ll see it again, you have to.

“I’ll make sure your loverboy gets to see this, wherever he is, wouldn't want him to miss out on the fun.”

Finn. Finnick. You remember Finnick. You remember when you returned from your first games. The black eye and broken arm you came home with. You remember how he lost it when they didn't immediately treat you for it. He would now either throw a fit over it for everyone to see or be so stoic in his thoughts even Johanna would get a little concerned.

You see the man standing up, walking to the table, and picking up something new. A syringe, it's a syringe. He walks over and pushes it into your upper arm, and before you know it, your vision turns black again.

You remember waking up to gunshots, and you panic. But after a few seconds, you figure out they’re not near you. There is, however, someone in the room with you, it's the same man again. He looks a little panicked, but you can’t figure out why just yet. The gunshots are becoming louder, and closer, and he seems more startled now. His arms drop to his sides from what he was doing and his eyes widen. Screams are echoing and you can hear footsteps.

You remember that pattern of paddling feet, and you recognize the second pair of steps too, but you can't remember much else.

The man gets closer to you, placing his hand over your mouth, pulling out a gun with his free hand and telling you to stay quiet. You never understood why people say that, it means he has something to lose, and you want to scream out, but your voice doesn't remember how to.

It's even closer now, right outside the door, and you can hear talking. You remember his voice. How he always asked you so sweetly how your day had been, the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear as you fell asleep.

You hear the door jiggle, and it makes you want to scream out for him, but your sore throat won't let you. For a moment you think that is it, you had your chance, and you let it go by. He’ll move along the hallway to the other doors and leave you here. But then you hear another gunshot, and they must have shot the lock, because right after you hear someone running into the door with an echoing thump as it breaks open.

The man next to you had his gun pointed at the door, and he changes it to point at you instead.

You were right, by the gods you had never been so thankful to have been right. Finnick walks in, and you can see the colour drain from his face as he does so.

The man standing next to you is starting to get nervous, you can see the sweat starting to drip down his face. He must realize he has been matched, because there are more people by Finnicks side. But the man still has his gun pointed at you, and this isn't over just yet.

You can't keep your eyes open anymore, and when you close them, you remember. You remember your first kiss with Finnick, how nervous he had been at the time. He had been shaking a little and told you he was embarrassed by how much you got to him, but it only endeared him further to you. He yells at the man to let go of the gun, he sounds nervous again.

But he doesn't let go, he decides to shoot.

You hear the bullet leaving the gun, and for a single moment, you think it's over. The last thing you’ll ever see is Finnick, but he’s not himself. He’s upset, and even though you know he’s not upset with you, it still tugs at you. Except when you feel the bullet piercing through your skin, that's exactly what you realise. You can still feel it. He didn't shoot you right in the heart, he didn't shoot towards your head, he shot you in the abdomen. You’re not sure why, not sure why he didn't kill you, but you will never know, because not even a second passes as you hear a second gunshot, and he falls to the floor.

You can't seem to remember how to open your eyes, but you can hear Finnick rushing over and right as he reaches you, you fall. You fall into his arms and the memory of it gives you hope. Something comes in contact with your stomach, and the agony of it makes you want to scream out. You can feel him lifting you, and the shift of your body makes the bullet move, making you want to scream again. And if you remembered how to, you would have.

You know he’s talking to someone, but it sounds more like buzzing to you. You can only make out certain parts of the conversation, something about needing to leave, something about infections, and something about an aircraft.

You can hear him talking again, and this time it’s directed at you. There’s a strain in his voice, and it sounds like he’s crying. It makes you want to comfort him, but you don’t remember how to.

“Please darling, just open your eyes."

But you’re afraid, youre afraid that if you open them, everything will turn out to be nothing but a dream, and he won’t be here anymore. But even if this is a dream, you need to see him. Even if it will turn into a haunted memory, you need to see his eyes looking back at you. It takes you some effort, but you open your eyes, looking at him. You can see tears flooding his face, you can see his lips moving, silent pleas coming from them for you to stay awake. He’s telling you how good of a job you’re doing, he's telling you to hold on. He promises that he won’t let anything bad happen to you ever again and that he won’t let go of you anymore.

You remember how he cried when you were reaped for the 75th games, and how you had told him everything would be okay, how you had comforted him, but you don't have the energy to comfort him this time. You remember hearing his sobbing, his shaking voice when you close your eyes again, not being able to keep them open any longer, even if you wanted to.

You wake up again, and for a moment you think it had indeed all been a dream, that you were right back where you had started, But then you remember the bullet in your stomach. You look down and see a bandage over it, even though it’s already soaked in blood. They must have taken it out.

You try and concentrate, and you can hear Finnick talking to someone. “Just tell me, I know it’s bad but I need to know.” “Finnick, it won’t make a difference.” The person he’s talking to sounds desperate, and you remember how stubborn he could be when it came to you.

But you don’t remember more, because your head starts to feel light again and you give in to the feeling.

When you wake up again, you manage to open your eyes, and you can see someone sitting in a chair next to the bed you're in. He’s slumped over, his face half pressed into the mattress and half into your stomach, both of his hands are holding onto one of yours. It hurts a little, but you don't mind, because it reminds you, even when you look away, that he is still there. You remember the way he always softly snores, and the way he wiggles his nose when your hair falls over it.

You think you're connected to a monitor, because something is beeping in the same rhythm you can feel your heart beating, and it gives you a headache. So you close your eyes again, and once again, you give in to the feeling of sleep that looms over you.

Since you had been brought to District 13, he has barely left your side. He keeps putting cold washcloths on your forehead to try and break your fever. It won't help, and he knows it, but no one has the heart to stop him.

You haven't shown a single sign of life since they had found you. It was unsettling, the silence that filled the room, none of your usual laughter and banter there to replace it.

It’s only when Finnick's head shoots up that the others notice it as well. The steady beeping that has been imposing the silence in this room for weeks picking up its pace. The beating continues to go faster and faster, your body shaking up from the bed in almost the same rhythm. But right before anyone can do anything about it, it stops. It all seems to stop, you stop moving, and the monitor stops beating.

He starts giving you chest compressions, and someone rushes into the room holding a small bottle, they fill a syringe with the clear liquid and inject it into your arm. Within a few seconds, your heart starts beating again. But it’s only after a minute of the monitor showing him a steady heartrate that he stops his actions.

It’s dark in the room when Finnick wakes up, and if it wasn't for the soft light and the beeping of the monitor, he would've thought he was dreaming, but it seems the reality won’t let him escape. He struggles not to fall back asleep, and every few minutes he does, but every time he wakes up startled again, scared that you’ll be gone if he doesn't open his eyes every once in a while. It was easy to see the toll it had taken on him. His posture was slouched, his face less well-groomed than usual. But no one could blame him, because they could see the way he looked at you, as if you were the sun and your dimmed light turned his world dark.

He knows the chance you can hear him is small, but he feels the urge to talk to you nonetheless.

“I don't think I can hold this in any longer. I remember some studies that have shown people in comas do hear what's going on around them, but maybe it’s for the best that you don’t, because you would never say yes.”

He continues but he feels his voice choke up, and he runs a hand through your hair to calm himself down, his other hand still holding onto yours.

“We talked about it once, I still remember every single word you said. You came at me with all your logical reasons for why it would be a bad idea. But what you never understood is that when it comes to you, I'm not able to think rationally, because my love for you will overpower anything else.” He chuckles softly as he recalls the memory he’s about to tell you next.

“I remember when I opened up to you for the first time. I had always held things to myself, but you were so calm as I talked to you. I thought for sure I had screwed it up somehow then. Everyone always tells me now how happy you make me, and they're right. Ever since you came into my life there has not been a single moment when the thought of you did not bring me joy, even when we fought my memories of you could still somehow bring a smile to my face.

I remember when they showed me the video, they hadn't wanted me to see it, but you know how stubborn I can be when it comes to you. I saw you, I saw the way in which they were hurting you. And I started yelling, ironically enough in that moment, you were the only one that could have calmed me down. I remember yelling at them, fighting with them not to wait any longer, that they couldn't let you wait any longer, they had to have me sedating until they came to a conclusion."

He reaches into the pocket of his trousers, taking a small ring. It was his mother's ring, he had found it a while back and had carried it with him ever since. He had thought of moments to give it to you, but every time there was one, every time he was about to ask you, something had happened, something had interrupted him. But there was no one interrupting him this time. “I have thought about asking you this every time I see you, and I can't hold it in any longer. So when you wake up, not if you wake up, because I know you will. I know you will wake up because you have to. So when you wake up, will you marry me.” A little part of him had thought you'd wake up, that you’d answer him. Even if you said no, it would still be better than what's happening right now, because he didn't care if you'd say no, if you’d say you weren't ready, because nothing could be worse than the silence that followed him. And so he slid the ring onto your finger delicately, as if you were to disappear if he wasn't careful. He put the ring on your hand because he knew that even if it wasn't today, and it wasn't tomorrow, someday you would marry him, and he wouldn't let you slip away.

At first, he thought he was imagining it, sleep deprivation and desperation playing a trick on his mind. But then he saw it again, in the beams of morning light he could see your hand moving, as if it was trying to grasp onto something, trying to pull you back into this world. It woke him up in an instant. But it was all followed so fast, the way your eyes slowly opened, squinting at the light. Before you had even awoken for a second, he moved from where he had been right beside you in order to hug you. And he was about to get lost in the thought of your moving lips, tears falling down his eyes, about to get lost in a kiss full of built-up pain and desperation when he noticed, something was wrong. Your eyebrows were knitted together and the corners of your mouth turned down just a little. He looked at your expression, your body language, something was wrong. You looked vulnerable, you looked like you wanted to protect yourself from someone.

It was only when he looked into your eyes that he truly understood something was very wrong.

Your eyes looked as if you were in pain, but it wasn't a look of any physical pain, it looked as if something was endangering you, but he couldn't understand what it was. He slowly moved so as not to startle you and asked you “Darling, what’s wrong” And at first you didn’t respond, but when he kept looking at you, expecting him to answer you, you started to speak. “Am I supposed to remember you?”

He immediately flinched back at the statement, his shoulder sunk and his eyes dimmed. Someone told him it wasn't uncommon for brain injuries to cause short-term memory loss after a coma.

So slowly, and surely, he made it work. But it was crumbling him down every time you didn't remember the unconscious acts of affection, so foreign to you now. A quick touch on your arm as he walked towards you made you flinch slightly as if his hand had been on fire. The subtle smiles he gave you when entering a room were now met with you looking down. The way that even though you were physically here, you really weren't.

He promised himself, he vowed to himself that he would make you remember. That no matter how long it took, he would wait for you. He would wait for you to remember, make you remember. Because he had very quickly learned that he couldn’t live without you anymore.

Part 2: Trying to Forget

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lucy-gray1075 · 5 months

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There Are Worse Games to Play

pairing: finnick odair x reader (hunger games)

synopsis: you and finnick get reaped for the 3rd quarter quell

warnings: fluff, angst, sadness, self-sacrifice

a/n: my first hunger games fic!! i love fin so much, so i hope you enjoy this <3

౨ৎ

"Finnick Odair," the Escort's voice rang loud in the silence of the gathered audience.

You let out a strangled cry of suppressed fury. It wasn't fair. He won, fair and square. He had played by the Capitol's rules, just like the rest of you. Why should he be taken again?

The Escort walked over to the bowl containing the female Victors' names and before you knew it she was calling out, "Mags Flanagan!"

"I volunteer! I volunteer!" your hand shot up as you stepped forward to ensure your intentions wouldn't be mistaken.

"How wonderful! We have a volunteer for the female tribute from District 4," the Escort sounded genuinely proud, like you had done some great service to the Capitol. In her eyes, you were a compliant soldier, a willing pawn of the Capitol. It disgusted you, but at least now, you had the chance to die in the games and leave this cruel world behind.

"No! Y/N!" Finnick seemed to be struggling against his anguish. You had forgotten this might affect him, just as much as him being in danger affected you. Well, if it came down to it, you would sacrifice yourself for him in a heartbeat. That knowledge was the only constant you could rely on in your quickly crumbling world.

Finnick wouldn't speak to you on the train. And every time you mustered the courage to say something, to try and explain yourself, your words died in your throat like mockingjays shot down from the sky.

"Finnick, would you please say something?" you finally broke. "At least look at me." You hated how you wore your desperation all over your face.

Finnick's head snapped to yours, and you almost wished you hadn't asked. His eyes were ablaze with a fury so deep you thought he just might hate you.

"I'm sorry," you let out a sob you didn't realize you were holding in.

Your embarrassing display of emotion made his features to soften. He didn't mean to make you cry.

"C'mere," there was a rough edge to his voice, which you suspected was from him trying to hide how emotional he had gotten.

Despite the tough guy act, he melted at your touch. He pulled you into his arms and when that wasn't enough, into his lap. You couldn't be close enough to him.

"I'm so scared," his voice broke. All you could do was nod. If Finnick couldn't be strong about this, there was no hope for you. You pulled his head into your chest, stroking his soft curls to comfort him. He rubbed your lower back in wide sweeping motions, trying to quell your tears.

"We have each other," you wiped at your face harshly. You needed to see the bright side. "There are worse games to play. This time, we're older and stronger and we'll be together, most importantly."

"You're right, love," Finnick dried your remaining tears more gently than you had. The pad of his thumb was soft against your undereye, and you tried to focus on the feeling of his arms around you for as long as you could. You loved how much he cared for you. You loved him so much, and if anything ever happened to him, you didn't think you could live with yourself.

"I love you," he whispered, touching his forehead to yours.

"I love you more, Finn," you closed your eyes, feeling his lashes flutter against yours.

"Not possible, birdie," you opened your eyes to find the ghost of a grin lighting up his entire face. You stared hard, committing this image of him to memory. You didn't know if you'd ever see him this way again.

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theaawalker · 5 months

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Something to Feel, Something Real [Finnick Odair Smut]

Pairing: Finnick Odair x male!reader Song Inspo: Call Me By Your Name by Lil Nas X Word Count: 1,394 Summary: You've seen Finnick around, often through pitying eyes, but haven't spoken to him. The times you have seen, he's either with a client (flirting) or leaving them (shaking with shame, rage, and disgust). You decide to make him feel something real and mutually pleasurable. Warnings: smut, oral (male receiving), emotional build-up, MxM, one-shot, begging, substance usage, cursing, narrator pov Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly) A/N: This is not attached to "I Promise", my other Finnick imagine. The second part will be here shortly. Just adding a little twist to the end. *smirks villainously* In the meantime, here's some gay smut to tickle your tentacles. Peep the easter egg tho ;)

You and Finnick have your first real conversation when he’s arriving back at the Tribute center one night after spending an upsetting few hours with one of Snow’s clients. He’s in a foul mood, anger bordering on despair and self-hatred, still feeling the ghosts of unwanted fingers on his body, when he steps into the elevator and finds you smoking a joint.

"Shit, shit!” you curse, hiding the joint up your sleeve and coughing, waving your hands in the air like you can disperse the smell. “Sorry, someone was smoking in here before,” you lie.

Finnick can’t help himself. He laughs. “Give me a hit and I won’t tell anyone.”

You share the joint in the elevator, not hitting any button to go up to either of your floors. The chatter comes easy with both of you, but it’s not long before you’re stepping over friendly small talk into a genuine conversation about the wild shit you’ve seen in the Capitol and in your case, at home, too. District 2 loves to rub elbows with the Capitol, something you despise. Your comparisons and imitations have Finnick barking laughter.

During one of the lulls in conversation, he takes in your face and form, basking in the fact that he’s responsible for the smile on your face right now. He’d like to get to know you better, and fuck it, maybe he’s a little horny right now, too.

“Come to my floor?” he asks, the joint between his fingers. He takes a slow drag, watching you.

You stare at his lips as he exhales. God, the high must be hitting because all you want to do is cover his lips with yours. Like, it’s the only thought rattling around in your peanut brain. His lips curl into a smile and--Oh, shit. He asked you a question.

“Sure,” you answer.

One expression Finnick identifies all too easily is lust. And he sees it plain on your face. “Then let’s go.”

Finnick leads you to the lounge on the fourth floor, well away from the bedrooms. The giant windows let in light from the Capitol’s nightlife.

“I miss the stars,” you say once you’re both settled next to each other on a loveseat. “It’s not like there are a ton of them back home with all the light pollution, but still. There are more than here.”

Finnick gazes at the dark sky. “You should come to District 4 sometime. You can see the entire Milky Way. And instead of listening to all those cars you listen to the ocean. And you can forget everything for a few moments.”

Despite the lounge being much, much larger than the elevator, this feels far more intimate. Finnick and you face each other, your eyes flicking to his lips. He’s the Capitol sex icon and has always acted like an absolute peacock on camera, but you’ve seen him trying so hard mentoring his own tributes and taking care of Mags. There’s a lot more depth to him than what the cameras show. And you like the bits he shows off camera far, far more. Those bits are coming out tonight; a funny, deeply caring, deeply hurt young man with a vast capacity for kindness.

When he came into the elevator, he looked positively miserable and so, so defeated. Like he had been stomped on and ground down. You wanted to make him smile, a real smile, but then you couldn’t stop at just one, and now here you are. You know about his and Snow’s “arrangement”. You also know you can treat him better than any of the “clients” do even when they’re trying, and you wonder if he’ll let you treat him like that.

Your intense stare has Finnick shifting, feeling a few degrees hotter than before.

“Can I kiss you?” you finally ask, voice low. If there’s one thing being a Career has taught you, it’s to grab at any opportunity you see. Finnick swallows. “Yes,” he croaks. “Please.”

You lean forward and capture his lips, one hand on the back of the couch and the other securely in your lap. You’re close and leaning into him, but not holding him. The restraint surprises him at first. But he’s grateful for it and he relaxes. He sinks into the kiss, his own hands venturing to fist in your shirt collar and hold you there. You let him lead, let him feel your arms and touch your face and chest, but never move your own hands from their position, just pour your all into your lips against his.

The lights flick on. You and Finnick snap apart like a rubber band snapping back into shape. It’s Mags. She looks between you both with wide eyes before a mischevious smile breaks across her face. “No, no, Mags,” Finnick protests.

She winks, grinning, and flicks the lights back off. She exits.

Finnick groans. “I’m never going to hear the end of it.”

You grin and wink. “Well, if you’re never going to hear the end of it, we may as well make it worth it, right?”

His seafoam eyes lock on yours, an eyebrow lifting. He smirks. “Oh? What do you have in mind?”

Leaning forward, you whisper in his ear, “I’d like to suck you off.”

All thoughts leave his head and all blood flows straight to his groin. For once, he’s speechless. No one has ever offered this before. All the people he spends time with want his attention on them, want him to fawn over them, wants him to boost their egos with his attention. And if they did off, he’d wonder what they want in return. Exactly like he’s wondering right now. He should ask, but his brain is too focused on the thought of your lips around his dick. Does he really care what happens after as long as he gets what he wants, first?

At his silence you withdraw. “Only if you want me to, of course,” you add. The last thing you want to do is make him uncomfortable.

“Yes,” he hastily replies. “Yes. I’d love you to suck me off.”

That affirmation is all you need. You kneel in front of him and slowly unzip his pants, revealing plain boxers beneath. Finnick watches you, his heart pounding. With agonizingly slow movements, you touch his length and guide it through the gap in his boxers. He grips the cushions of the loveseat as you lick up the underside of his member, from the base to the tip. Your tongue is deliciously wet. Finally, you take Finnick into your mouth and work him slow, slow, slow. One hand balls into a fist on his leg and the other slips in your hair. He moans, a low sound that barely reaches your ears.

You can’t believe no one has ever done this before. You’ve barely started, and he looks absolutely wrecked and so goddamned pretty. His head falls back against the loveseat and he lets out a shaky breath.

Fisting him, you take your mouth off to quip, “Have I made the Finnick Odair speechless?”

He huffs a laugh, meeting your gaze. “Just wait until I have you on your back and—oh.” His words end in a strangled moan as you suck his head. You ease him a little bit further into the rhythm before you deep-throat him. By then both hands tangle in your hair and he’s whimpering and trembling, muscles taut. “Fuck. Fuck.” It’s so warm, so hot, feels so, so good.

He comes shortly after, cock hot and stiff in your mouth, his entire body rigid. As he comes down from his high he melts into the couch, both his hands gently tugging at your head. “Get up,” he pants. You comply and stand, bracing your arms on either side of his head, and kiss him. There it is again, that restraint.

“Touch me,” he moans. “Please.” He might combust if you don’t.

You obey and cup his cheeks. His hands mimic yours, holding your face to his while you kiss. His stomach feels warm and body completely relaxed, for once completely in the moment, his brain pleasantly quiet.

He opens his eyes. “What can I do for you?”

You press your forehead to his, cheeks hot. God, there’s so much you want to do to him, with him, but not tonight. “You can go to bed and get a full night’s sleep,” you answer.

What? He knows he heard you right, but what? “That’s not what I meant,” he says hesitantly. You chuckle and kiss his cheek.

“I know.” You brush back a lock of his hair. “And as much as I’d like to fuck you or you fuck me and make out well into the morning, you taking care of yourself is what I want the most. Can you promise me you’ll do that?”

Finnick can’t help the laugh that escapes him. “I promise.” He feels almost bashful. How do you know what he needs? Beneath your soft gaze he feels vulnerable and open, and while it’s foreign, it’s not unwelcome.

You smile at him, a brilliant smile that lights up the night. “Thank you.”

You’re thanking him. You just gave him a blowjob and you’re thanking him. Who the fuck are you?

After exchanging a few more minutes of sweet nothings, you leave to head to your floor. Finnick stays on the loveseat a while longer, smiling, watching the twinkling lights of the Capitol. The content expression gradually falls from his face and he sinks into the reality that is his life. At least this has been a sliver of good in what is his constant parade of masking for the Capitol. Maybe he can have a few more of those slivers when you’re around. He’s certainly going to try to grab the chances when they present themselves.

• ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ •

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coryosmin · 2 months

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reunited - finnick odair x reader

a one shot based off of this ask. reader is saved from the capitol and brought to district 13. she gets discharged from the hospital wing and is finally able to spend time with finnick.

warnings: MDNI mentions of mental health issues, trauma, mentions of starvation, female reader, smut, oral (f receiving)fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, this is honestly rushed so if it sucks I apologize lol

word count: 2,000 words

Finnick was distraught without you, to say the least. After you had been taken out of the arena by the Capitol, he taken by District 13, he didn’t know what to do, what to say, how to feel. He was lost. As though nothing had any meaning to him any longer. He wished you were dead. He wished he was dead. He wished everyone was dead because it would mean that no one would be suffering and therefore, nothing could go wrong.

Day in and day out, tying knots in a rope to ground himself so he didn’t get lost in his thoughts. Wake up, eat breakfast at the assigned time, space out, eat lunch, space out, eat dinner, space out, go to bed, and wake up in the morning. Repeat the process.

His only small sliver of hope was being gifted a trident to start practicing with. Just something to take his mind off of the horrors that you were likely going through. That was until he was asked to speak to Katniss’s PR team, to get filmed and broadcasted to all of Panem in the hopes that they rescue Peeta, Johanna, and you from the Capitol. And Finnick was more than ready to do so.

And when news came that you had been rescued and that the mission was a success, Finnick ran to the hospital wing, calling your name. “Y/N!” he shouted, busting through the doors.

And then came the shout of your voice. “Finnick!”

He looked over to you, seeing you on the hospital bed. You didn’t care for any of your injuries, tearing the tubes out of your skin to run up to Finnick. And he engulfed you in his arms, holding you closely as you wrapped your arms around him. Nothing mattered more to either of you than that you were together. No matter what happened, everything would be okay because Finnick finally had you.

A weight had been lifted off of Finnick’s shoulders as he realized that you were okay and now you were safe. He looked you up and down. You were thin, due to being starved by the Capitol, you had bruises all over your face, and you overall just looked worn out. But even so, Finnick thought you were the most beautiful woman to ever exist.

Eventually, he had to let go of you and leave. It was time for bed within District 13 and you needed to be attended to. So Finnick had reluctantly left you alone with the doctors and nurses. He had gone back to his room that night and cried happy tears, grateful that you were alive.

After that initial visit, however, you weren’t allowed visitors for a while. Apparently, the Capitol had really messed up with not only your physical health but also your mental health and being locked up in a bunker reminded you of being locked in the cell in the Capitol. Therefore, you needed time to adjust.

It took about two weeks before you could have visitors. And after that, Finnick visited you every night and talked to you about anything and everything. And it helped you so much. So much so that you were able to be released within a week, your injuries fully healed and a healthy amount of weight put back onto you. And you were allowed to share your room with Finnick.

When you and Finnick had gone to your shared room that night, nothing stopped Finnick from just grabbing your face and kissing you. And you of course kissed him back. The kiss was desperate and hungry, as though you both worried that if you stopped the other would just wither away into nothingness and you would be left alone once more. Finnick’s arms were wrapped tightly around you, not enough to hurt you but enough to be firm and secure you. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close to you.

Finnick pulled away from the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. “I missed you so much,” He murmured, his voice cracking. “I was so lost without you, baby.” His green eyes had turned glossy, signaling the emotions he was feeling.

You felt yourself tearing up as well, bringing a hand to caress his cheek. “I missed you so much too, Finnick,” You sniffled. “The thought of ever seeing you again was the only reason I got through everything the Capitol put me through.”

And so Finnick kissed you again. His lips were soft against yours, kissing you slowly this time. His tongue traced your bottom lip, causing you to let out a soft moan at the feeling as you parted your lips. His tongue entered your mouth, exploring it. One of your hands went to Finnick’s hair, gently entangling your fingers in it while the other was wrapped around his neck.

Finnick’s hands were roaming your body, feeling you through the jumpsuit provided by District 13. He brought his hand up to the zipper. He was about to tug it down but decided to ask you first. He pulled away from the kiss. “Need you, baby,” he murmured. “Is that okay?”

You nodded your head. “I need you too, Finnick,” you murmured back, going back to kissing his lips. Finnick immediately kissed you back, tugging the zipper down on your jumpsuit and taking it off of you. You helped by kicking it to the side. You did the same to Finnick, unzipping his jumpsuit and taking it off of him.

Finnick gently pushed you to the bed, sitting you down at the edge of the bed. He reached behind you to unclasp your bra, taking it off of you and throwing it to the side. He pulled away from the kiss to look you up and down. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” he said softly, kneeling in front of you. “Gonna make you feel so good, yeah?”

You bit your lip, nodding your head at your wonderful boyfriend. Your cheeks were red as you looked at him. Finnick gave you a small smile, gently spreading your legs. He grabbed the hem of your panties, pulling them down. “If you want to stop at any point, my love, please tell me.”

You gave him a small smile. “I want this, Finnick,” you replied, caressing his face. “I need this.”

Finnick smiled up at you, taking your panties off the rest of the way and tossing them aside. He grabbed one of your legs, kissing you from your ankle and working his way up to your inner thigh. And when Finnick got to your pussy, he sighed in contentment as he placed a kiss onto your pussy lips. You bit your lip, spreading your legs further for him. Finnick gave you a smirk before bringing his tongue out, licking the slit of your cunt before tonguing your clit.

You let out a small moan, a hand moving to entangle in Finnick’s hair while the other gripped the sheets of the bed. Finnick let out a soft moan, sucking on your clit. You closed your eyes in pleasure, throwing your head back. Finnick continued to suck and tongue your clit, bringing a finger up to your hole and inserting it slowly. You let out another soft moan. “Oh fuck.”

Finnick moved his finger slowly inside of you, thrusting it in and out at the same time as he sucked your clit. He missed your pussy so much. You always tasted so divine and delicious. He just adored you with all his heart. Finnick added another finger, curling both of his digits inside of you. You let out a loud moan, gripping Finnick’s hair. “Oh fuck!” You moaned out, clenching around his digits.

Finnick pulled away from your clit to look at you, keeping his fingers inside of you as he thrusted them faster inside of you, hitting your g-spot. “That’s it, baby,” he said, looking up at you. You looked so beautiful. Your skin was flushed, you were blushing, your back was arched slightly. Finnick absolutely adored you. “Gonna cum on my fingers?”

You whined, nodding your head. Finnick smiled before going back to sucking your clit, making you buck your hips against his face. “So close, Finnick,” you whined, feeling yourself come undone. And with a few more thrusts, your thighs clenched together and shook as you came hard around his digits. “Oh my god!” You moaned out.

And when you came down from your high, Finnick removed his fingers from you. He pulled away, licking his lips as he stood up. His cock was painfully hard in his boxers. He palmed himself, looking at you. You opened your eyes, looking up at Finnick and breathing heavily. He smiled at you. “Do you want to continue?” He asked softly.

You nodded your head enthusiastically. “Please, Finnick,” you replied. “Need your cock inside me.”

And that’s all Finnick needed to pull his boxers down and throw them aside. “Lay down, baby,” he said, stroking himself slowly. You obliged, laying your head down on the pillow. Finnick crawled on top of you, holding himself up with one arm as his other guided his cock to your entrance. And without any hesitation, he eased himself inside of you.

You both moaned in unison. You wrapped your arms around his torso, holding Finnick close as he eased his cock inside of you. You both looked into each other’s eyes, not needing any words to be spoken. His green orbs looked into your beautiful e/c ones, making you smile softly at him. Though your smile quickly contorted into a face of pleasure as Finnick began thrusting his hips slowly.

“You’re so tight, sweetheart,” Finnick whispered shakily, leaning on his forearms as he moved his hips.

“You’re so big,” you whispered back, moaning softly. “Needed you so bad.”

“I needed you too, baby,” Finnick replied, leaning down to kiss your lips.

You kissed Finnick back. He continued his slow pace inside of you, thrusting his hips as the two of you relished in one another’s touch. Being able to be with you after having you gone for so long wore Finnick down a lot. And he just needed you desperately. Not just physically but mentally too. And soon, Finnick was quickening his pace and angling his hips to hit that spongy spot inside of you. You both moaned loudly at the feeling.

You pulled away from the kiss, throwing your head back in pleasure as Finnick thrusted into you. He began kissing your neck. “I missed you so much,” he practically whined in your ear.

“I missed you too, Finnick,” you whined back, gasping when Finnick kissed your sweet spot.

“I love you,” he moaned out, moving his hips faster.

“Oh fuck-“ you moaned, arching your back as you felt your orgasm approaching quickly. “I love you too!”

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” Finnick asked. “You’re clenching around me so good. Please cum for me,” he moaned, burying his head in your neck.

And so you came around Finnick’s cock, whining and moaning as you did so. And soon Finnick followed shortly after.

Finally, the two of you were reunited at last.

#the hunger games #thg #finnick odair #the hunger games imagine #the hunger games smut #the hunger games trilogy #the hunger games finnick #thg finnick #thg series #thg smut #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair smut #finnick x you #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #finnick fanfic #hunger games finnick #finnick x y/n

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loveliestlovelygirl · 2 months

Text

cashmere, cologne, & white sunshine | 𝟙

money is the anthem, god, you're so handsome

dilf!finnick x nanny!reader

synopsis: you arrive at the odair estate for your final interview with finnick's mother mrs. odair. when she offers you the job on the spot, you're so surprised. quickly, you learn that the children might be a challenge for you, but finnick's support and kindness is enough to cheer you on. it seems he even wants to get close to you...

w.c: 2.7k

highlights: {minors dni} extreme wealth, nepotism, children & childcare, flirting, a hint of suggestive content near the end, slow burn romance, power imbalance

table of contents | 𝟚 {coming soon}

You had never considered yourself to be the kind of person who falls for their employer. Not even coworkers. Out of the myriad jobs you picked up here and there to finance college and now grad school, never once did you develop romantic feelings in a professional setting.

But the Odair Estate... is an experience, one dreamed up by a romance novelist with its white rose greenhouse, angel water fountains, and vintage cars. And inside, gold and marble, crystal chandeliers, and winding staircases. And yet the majesty of the home could never blot out the brilliance that surrounds the man who resides here. In your gaze, a halo of light outlines his silhouette. You can’t be the only one who sees it.

He draws you into this fantasy world. A world of sweet pleasure and romance.

Finnick Odair draws you to his arms, to his lips, to his love—all so effortlessly.

“Smith! Come here! You’re going to get jelly all over the furniture!” A handsome man half-dressed, only in a pair of khaki slacks, sprints down the stairs to chase after a small blonde boy with a smear of grape jelly across his cheeks and hands.

You couldn’t help but steal a glance, even during your interview, when you heard the low, melody of his voice. You see the urgency upon his sharpened features as he dashes after the boy, Smith, you assume, who looks to be four years old. Smith leads the chase into the parlor where you are being interviewed.

The greying woman, Mrs. Odair, across from you almost lunges from her loveseat to capture the tiny boy between her two delicate arms. She picks up the child in her arms and seats him on her lap. On the side table is a box of tissues, and she recruits several to wipe the sticky jelly off his face.

“Smith,” she scolds lovingly, “Nana is talking. You are being quite rude. Did you even say hello?”

Smith crosses his arms and pouts his lips, blowing air through them. He looks at you with these big, bright-green eyes surrounded by thick, doll-like lashes, finally acknowledging your presence.

“Hi,” Smith sighs.

“Hello,” you say back.

His nana grounds him, though holding onto his shirt as he tries to scamper away. “Be good!”

A manly laugh to your left startles you. “Smith isn’t interested, Mom.”

You gaze over your shoulder to watch the man crouch down to his son’s level. “Come now, Smith. You have to get ready for school. I’m already late for work!”

Nana snorts. “Finnie, Daddy understands!”

He gives her, who you assume is his mother, a firm glare. Then he looks to you and smiles. You like his crooked teeth. He offers his hand, and you shake. “I’m Finnick. Thank you for coming to interview with us.” His hand is a little calloused but very warm and very strong.

“Thank you for having me,” you say back, on autopilot because ever since he stepped in, the rest of the world, including your own thoughts, have faded into the background.

He smiles again. “Of course. I typically would be a part of the process, but I’ve got to take Smith and Ruby to school now.” He waves. “Nice to meet you.”

He turns to his mother and mouths something to her with the same smile on his face. You wonder if it’s about you. And you wonder if it’s something nice. You haven’t exactly done anything to offend them... yet.

“Nice to meet you too,” you say a little too late because he’s already walking away with his back turned. You doubt he hears you.

Once Finnick and Smith are upstairs, Mrs. Odair looks back down at her clipboard and continues the interview. Your background is flawless of course. The agency cleared you. You’ve yet to have a single encounter with the law, though you speed often when you’re late to work. To Mrs. Odair, you explain why you are interested in the job, how you need to save up for graduate school for next year’s applications. She seems impressed with your academic successes and your determination to pursue higher education.

While the interview went well, you didn’t expect a job offer on the spot. As you got up to leave, you step over to shake her hand, and she says, “You are taking the job, right?”

The next day you drive back to the estate to begin. Mrs. Odair promised to show you the ropes of taking care of her two precious grandchildren Smith and Ruby the first week of your employment. And you were glad she did that first day. Smith, who you learn is five years old, is more than a handful. Ruby is eight and loves only her daddy.

You park your dated Prius—the paint has finally begun to flake off—on the stone road between the three-tiered fountain and the concrete pathway to the manor. At the door, you rang the bell once, and the butler answered.

He says, “Good day, Miss,” and he shows you to Mrs. Odair’s room.

She’s sipping tea and reading the paper. When she notices your arrival, she stands to greet you. The butler disappears without a sound. It’s impressive.

“So glad you are here. And so punctual!”

“Of course,” you say. Never would you show up late on the first day. “I studied the children’s schedules you sent over last night.”

She claps her hands twice. “Marvelous, dear! When do the children need to leave the house for school?”

Put on the spot, you shift a little. Geez, she’s testing me already.

“Seven-forty-five at the latest. But preferably seven-thirty.”

She smiles. “Good job! We should probably wake the children now. I’ll go up with you today. Wouldn’t want to scare them.”

“You did tell them that I would be here today, right?”

Caught up in her own musings, Mrs. Odair must miss your question because she starts to ramble on about the greenhouse as you leave her guest room. She tells you she’s only staying here for a while because the old nanny quit. There’s bitterness in her tone as she mentions the former employee, and you wonder what exactly happened.

On your way to the stairs, you catch a glimpse of Finnick alone at the dining table for breakfast. He’s also reading the paper like his mother did. His brow is furrowed as he reads. It’s a mystery what he finds so interesting on that paper. He’s so oddly invested.

The stairs creak on your first step, and he looks up from the paper. His smile is immediate and dazzling. “Mother!” he calls. “You didn’t tell me she was here.”

Mrs. Odair rushes into the dining room. “Darling, I didn’t want to interrupt your morning routine.”

Finnick rolls his eyes dramatically. “Ah yes.” He waits for a moment and says, “I haven’t had a routine since the moment Ruby was born, Mother.”

She shrugs. “Maybe with this beauty’s help, you’ll have one.” Mrs. Odair pats your shoulder. “Come along. The children are slow to rise.”

As she drags you along, you can’t help but look at Finnick. He’s ungodly pretty. It almost hurts to look at him. And you find it strange that he’s looking back at you with a vivid curiosity. You chide yourself for ogling him like that. One, he’s sky-high out of your league. Two, he’s employed you. Three, he might not be single. Usually, the second reason to not crush on him would be enough. But your previous bosses have never looked like Finnick.

As you ascend the stairs, the walls are covered in family photographs. They’re clearly arranged by the time they were taken. When you arrive at the second floor, the photos are black and white. Mrs. Odair moves fast for someone her age, and you’re panting as you try to keep up with her. Your vision is slightly blurry when you reach the top.

“Smith’s room is...” she pauses, staring at you, clearly expecting you to recall from the floor plan of the house she also sent you along with their schedules.

You close your eyes for a moment. “First door on the left?”

She claps for you. “Such a smart girl!”

You smile, unsure how to respond to such a compliment.

Entering Smith’s room, the thick curtains are closed, and it’s because of the seashell nightlight that you can see at all. The boy is lying on his stomach on top of all the bed sheets but his head at the wrong end.

“Smith,” his nana calls.

Easily, Smith wakes. He rubs his eyes and sits up. He stares at you for a long time.

“Who’s she?” he asks, pointing right at your face with his tiny index finger.

“This is your new nanny. Isn’t she lovely?” Mrs. Odair gushes about you. Her support is endearing. But you’d be lying if you didn’t find it disconcerting.

Smith crosses his arms. “No!”

“Isn’t she pretty!” Mrs. Odair exclaims to Smith.

“I miss Herbie. Bring him back!” Smith shrieks. “I don’t like her.”

Wrinkled hands on her hips, Mrs. Odair hangs her head in momentary defeat. “Smith, I am so disappointed. You are being very rude.”

The child crosses his arms and sticks his tongue out.

She grasps your forearm. “I’m sorry about Smith. I promise he will come around.” She moves around to his bureau. “I can show you where his uniforms are and the proper way to dress him.”

You watch the elderly woman chase Smith around the room for a minute or two without breaking a sweat. She finally snatches him up in her arms and holds him down on the bed. He restlessly wiggles, trying to get away, but she is strong. Somehow, she manages to dress Smith and she scolds him for behaving dramatically.

“Smith, Daddy will be very, very upset when he hears of your actions.” He remains unfazed, as if discipline is a foreign concept to him. “Now, go down for breakfast.”

When his nana opens the bedroom door, he sprints out like a racehorse. You blink and he is gone.

Mrs. Odair turns to you again and sighs. “He’s a handful. Just like his father.”

“It’s quite alright. He won’t be my first difficult case. I just hope he warms up to me. My last family never did.”

“That’s wonderful for us. We desperately needed a nanny!”

Promptly, she leaves with sudden, passionate intent. And you follow her anxiously.

“What happened to the last one?” you ask.

“Ruby is much easier than Smith,” she halts at a room near the end of the second-floor hallway.

Just when you think that she didn’t hear your question, she says, “We do not speak of him.”

Stomach dropping, you step back and swallow. “Oh. Oh, please forgive me. I didn’t mean to offend.”

She scoffs. “He’s not worthy of a mention.” Mrs. Odair quickly breaks into her granddaughter’s room, as if to escape the topic.

Ruby’s room is a true girl’s room. You hardly step past the entrance before you are frozen over in wonder.

Cherry red must be Ruby’s favorite color. Everything is cherry red. The armchair by the column window is topped with cherry red velvet. There are red roses on each nightstand. Her headboard matches the armchair. The curtains match too. Her frilly duvet stands out in ivory lace embroidered with clusters of little cherries.

Ruby’s long red hair fans out over her pillows. She’s a sleeping angel. And you hate to see Mrs. Odair wake her.

Her brown eyes flutter open when her nana taps her on the shoulder. She looks up and her freckled lips smile widely.

“Good morning,” she whispers and stretches. Quickly, she notices you and sits up to talk. “What’s your name?” She has the slightest hint of an English accent.

You reply, hesitantly inching closer to the bed.

Mrs. Odair gets in the way of your conversation, picking up her granddaughter to dress her. She’s eight years old. By this time, you were responsible for dressing yourself for school.

In a few minutes, she dresses Ruby in her private school uniform. Together, you all go downstairs to fetch Smith, and then Mrs. Odair takes them outside to the car where the driver will escort them to school. Once the children leave, Mrs. Odiar pulls you aside to discuss your other duties while the children are away.

Rummaging through the cabinets is not how you planned to spend your afternoon, but you were told to treat the estate just like you would your home. It’s completely new territory to you, much like a castle with so many secrets you’ve yet to uncover. Today, you’re only trying to find the tea. A cup would do you well. Your thoughts have been a little more unorganized than usual. There’s much you must learn about Mrs. Odair’s standards for childcare. She seems to be more involved than the father, which bothers you.

“Left door. Top shelf.”

You glance over your shoulder.

There he is. Smith and Ruby’s father. You scold yourself for already having an opinion about him. You haven’t even known him for a day.

“Excuse me?”

He smiles. “The tea.”

You can’t think to respond in an intelligible way. How’d he know you were looking for the tea?

“Make me a cup while you’re at it.” He looks at you steadily. “If you don’t mind.”

Pulling the correct cabinet open, you see the boxes of tea neatly stacked on top of each other. You select a black tea and pour boiling water over the bags in porcelain mugs. They steep for four minutes.

You pick at your cuticles and glance out the window. Finnick sits at the table on his laptop, typing frantically.

Once the timer goes off, you walk over to the table to hand him his cup of tea. He doesn’t immediately register your action, but when he does, he offers you the biggest smile.

“Thank you. I do appreciate it.” He closes the lid to his laptop and pushes back the chair next to him away from the table with his foot. “Sit. I would like to get to know you.”

Shaking ever so slightly, you situate yourself beside him. He smells of luxury cologne, too expensive for your tastes. In your previous jobs with the agency, the families never were too interested in developing a personal relationship with you.

Finnick rests his chin on an open palm. “You’re really a lifesaver. Work has been a nightmare, and with Herbie gone... I’ve had to also look after Smith and Ruby more.”

For a moment, you narrow your eyes in judgement.

“Before you form opinions about me, let me say, they are my greatest joys. However, working a job that requires eighty plus hours in a week and two kids isn’t as easy as it sounds.”

You set your cup down before you. “Sounds like a lot of pressure.”

Finnick massages his brows. “That’s an understatement. Dad won’t be around forever. I’m to take over the family business. I’m planning to make a lot of changes when that happens. For Smith and Ruby’s sake. They might not want this.” Finnick quickly covers his mouth. “Pretend I didn’t say that.”

You shrug. “I think I might understand. You want them to have a choice.”

Finnick nods. “Don’t tell my mother. You’d get me in trouble.”

You laugh together.

“Snitches get stitches.”

Finnick laughs again. “And disciplined.” He hides his expression as he takes a sip of tea.

Though you don’t quite know what he means by that, you laugh at him anyway. “I don’t think Smith likes me very much.”

“He doesn’t like many people. He’s like me in that regard.” Finnick looks at you. “But I know that if you stick around his feelings will change.”

“I hope that’s true.”

He leans close to you. Your senses are suddenly overwhelmed with his fragrance and his golden warmth. “I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

You giggle. “What?”

“Smith likes anyone who will play hide-and-seek with him. That and chocolate chip cookies are the way to his heart.” Finnick pats you on the shoulder. His hands are massive. “Besides, I’m on your side. I’ll put in a good word.” He winks at you, and your heart drops in your chest.

This is... bad. You really shouldn’t be having these feelings for your employer. But his charming nature is hard to resist. He must have lots of girlfriends.

“Thanks,” you whisper, too caught up in your own worries to recognize that he’s flirting with you.

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#best viewed in dark mode :)#divider by xiaoswrld #loveliestlovelygirl #lovely fics #dilf!finnick #finnick #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick odair x reader #finnick smut #finnick odair smut #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #thg finnick #the hunger games finnick #finnick x you #finnick x y/n #cashmere cologne & white sunshine

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