#thg imagines
Note
Hello!! Would you be able to write a request for finnick? Just like he’s the capitols darling, reader is the capitals hound dog. Known to be fiercely protective and exceptionally violent and brutal. During the third quarter quell, katniss’ group is afraid of reader because they haven’t seen her all match, but they run into her and she defends them brutally against something? Sorry I know it’s specific:) love your writing!
my body is a cage
finnick odair x reader
synopsis: his focus was protecting katniss, but he sleeps with an eye open as long as you’re still out there..
a/n: i made some changes, jus go with it lmao
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“she’s still out there, katniss.” finnick had made this pointedly to katniss, who wanted to go out hunting for the remaining victors with johanna. you were shrouded in mystery, out of all the victors, finnick knew the least about you.
“where would she be?” peeta looked at finnick, who sighed, shrugging, “the arena is different than the arena she won in, i assume somewhere low to the ground-“ finnick sweeped the beach, eye catching on a rustle in the bush, straight across from them, “and close.” he remembered now how you had won your games.
you had tracked all the tributes like prey, manipulating their surroundings to kill them, it had been one of the most invigorating games for the capitol ever. “she’s a bloodhound, probably sniffed us out before we realized.”
johanna watched the area that finnick had saw you, but still offered her commentary, “she’s brutal, katniss.”
katniss looked at them all, surrounded by skilled people yet found herself doubting their abilities, especially her own. none of them were sure they’d win, not against her.
“the careers are the least of our worries with her out there.” peeta noted. finnick looked at him and shrugged, “she might just kill them herself.”
they knew getting back on the island was a bad idea. katniss ducked at the sound of a mysterious voice, feeling as something flew past her head, stabbing cashmere right in the chest.
“get up.” katniss looked up to see you, standing over her. you had an array of weapons on you, and you were reaching for another one. katniss felt the panic in her throat until you launched it at enobaria, who had thrown herself at katniss. “get up!” your voice sounded more frantic and katniss did, struggling from keeping her eyes off of you.
suddenly the island began to spin.
your grip was loosening, and you groaned with slight fear as you felt the cold water thundering against your feet. katniss reached out for you, “grab my hand!” she screamed, but the water trashing drowned her out.
you could see her hand amidst all the water and grabbed it tightly, closing your eyes as the island slowed to a stop.
you sat on the beach, alone as the others argued over you. katniss had defended you, deciding she wanted you as an ally. but finnick and johanna deemed it too risky, “she could kill us all in our sleep, then what?” johanna had made that point as one of your methods, and you inhaled sharply.
finnick glanced at you, noticing the solemn expression on your face. he had known that expression far too many times, and it made him change his mind.
“johanna.” finnick called her name and sighed, “she saved her life. that’s not something we can just ignore, we don’t even know her.”
there was silence between them all, katniss had looked to johanna, watching as she fought internally before giving in. “i’ll go get her, maybe threaten a little.” she stood up, taking her axe with her.
finnick looked to katniss as johanna left, “i’ll keep an eye on her. for you.” he knew that once katniss settled on allies, she settled. her choices weren’t always the best, but somehow it would work itself out.
“why did you save her?” finnick had taken the first watch with you. johanna had convinced him, as just having you as watch would be ‘asking for it’.
you shrugged, “why not.” there hadn’t been much decision making on the island. it was either her or cashmere, and you didn’t see much of a choice.
finnick looked at you, “i don’t believe that.” his eyes slid themselves back to stare at the beach and you scoffed, “and why is that?”
finnick shrugged, “no one would just randomly save someone without an ulterior motive.” he said it like a fact and you smirked, “do you have one?”
“have one what?” he looked confused, obvious by the furrow in his brow.
“do you have an ulterior motive?” you repeated the full length question and watched as finnick practically whipped his head around.
“no.” he stated plainly, and you rolled your eyes, “i saw you saved katniss, similiar to how i did. you and johanna can’t just be doing this,” you glanced back to katniss and peeta sleeping, “for nothing. whatever it is, finnick, is an ulterior motive.” finnick pursed his lips, almost as if he couldn’t believe it.
“i’ll let you have yours if you let me have mine.” you finished, catching his gaze. finnick knew there were layers to you. you were different than most victors, your brutality is what made you like the rest of them, the willingness to kill. but you were turning out to be way more than what meets the eye. whatever your motive was, finnick sensed it wasn’t malice.
finnick settled to watch the sun rise upon your face, ending the conversation with a nod.
finnick watched as you sat by the beach. it had been post jabberjays, you, him and katniss had all been trapped with the birds, fluttering and screaming your names. now it seemed, like you had decided to decompress by the beach, just as he was going to.
he piled up next to you, close but far enough to give you a good amount of space.
it was then that finnick realized you had been crying, tears evident on your cheeks. he had heard katniss yell her sister’s name, and he had heard annie. you had just screamed in response, as if you were trying to drown out the birds with your own voice.
“i’m sorry.” you apologized to finnick, wiping your eyes as he settled down. you sniffled, watching as the waves moved.
“don’t apologize, there’s no need.” finnick spoke, “who did you hear?”
there was silence for a moment, until you spoke, “my best friend.” your mind shuddered back the sound of his screams and you laughed, painfully. “he’s been dead for years. i killed him.” you admitted, “he died because of a mistake i had made during the games.”
your mind flashed back to the games, where you had accidentally launched a knife to his chest, thinking it had been another tribute.
“he had spent all of his games searching for me. and once he found me, i had killed him.” it was cruel for him to be your district partner, for only one would survive, but you “never thought it would be me.” you glanced at finnick, who had been listening.
“it was supposed to be him.” you cried, “i killed everyone else to get to him, and when it was down to four, was when he came to get me.” you shook your head, “there is nothing in this world that i loved more than him, finnick. now that he’s gone, there’s nothing left for me.”
finnick shook his head, “stop. you know that’s not true.” he tried to comfort you, your words mirroring his own thoughts.
“that’s my motive, finnick.” you revealed, “my body is a cage, and i can’t stand to live in it much longer.”
johanna had woken up abruptly. she clutched onto her weapon, eyes glancing around before she settled on the two figures on the beach. she squinted and made out finnick’s hair, and you. the only two missing from the group. you had your head leaned on finnick’s shoulder, as the two of you watched the rising sun.
#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair angst#finnick odair smut#finnick odair fluff#finnick odair x you#finnick odair x female!reader#thg#thg fanfiction#thg imagines#thg finnick odair#finnick odair oneshots#finnick x reader#finnick x you#finnick imagine#hunger games finnick#finnick odair
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If possible could I request dating headcannons with Finnick Odair? Please and thank u so much 🙏🙏
man thank you for requesting headcanons
masterlist
Finnick Odair never planned on falling in love
It would never be in the cards for him, or so he supposed
The two of you didn’t even start dating for love, more as a publicity stunt to keep you safe
Here was Finnick, the shiny, new, perfectly packaged Victor no one saw coming, and here you were, everyone’s favorite from last year
Getting with you was his best means of protection from late nights with Capitol dwellers who leer at him wherever he goes
Finnick has always been a particularly beautiful liar, and the Capitol romantics just ate up the idea that their beloved District Four Victors would end up together
He messed up, though, he fell in love when he wasn’t supposed to
Maybe he was just too good at playing the game, maybe that was why Finnick stopped caring when the cameras were on and off and started just loving you every moment of every day
You had a way of looking at him that Finnick hadn’t experienced in a long time, like you were seeing past the skin and bone to whoever was made up of his heart and mind
He sits with you by the water, watches the sun set, and thinks maybe it wouldn’t be the worst to live the rest of his life with someone after all
No one bats an eye when you move into his house, when Finnick slips and refers to himself by your last name instead of his, when the only thing either of you fear is the other being taken from you
Finnick fears weakness, he fears dependency, but he never feels anything but strong when he’s with you
After a while, he asks you to give up the ruse and love him for real
You could never say anything but yes :))
hunger games tag list: @w1shes43, @ilovexavierthrope
#finnick odair#finnick odair imagines#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair oneshot#finnick odair headcanons#hunger games#hunger games imagines#hunger games x reader#hunger games oneshot#hunger games headcanons#finnick#finnick imagines#finnick x reader#finnick oneshot#finnick headcanons#thg#thg imagines#thg x reader#thg oneshot#thg headcanons#hunger games finnick#hunger games finnick imagines#hunger games finnick x reader#hunger games finnick oneshot#hunger games finnick headcanons
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Mentor
Pairings: Cato Hadley x Fem!Reader
A/n: not exactly sure if this was what you wanted when you requested; hopefully this is good enough. Part 2 will be on its way maybe?
Type: Angst + Fluff
Warnings: blood, swearing, the hunger games, insults, arguing, fighting, medicine.
Words: 1.9k
Request: Cato × reader when he won the 74 and she won the 72 and she's younger than him and they fall in love and ppl are surprised he's soft for her
Y/n had always known that she was destined for greatness. Growing up in District 2, she had been trained from a young age to become a tribute in the Hunger Games. She had learned how to use a bow and arrow with deadly accuracy, and she was smart enough to outwit any opponent who dared to cross her.
As the day of the 72nd Hunger Games approached, Y/n felt a mixture of fear and excitement. She knew that the Games were a brutal and unforgiving competition, but she was determined to emerge victorious.
When the Games began, Y/n immediately put her skills to the test. She used her bow and arrow to take down several of her opponents, and she quickly established herself as a force to be reckoned with. She was smart enough to avoid direct confrontation whenever possible, instead using her wits and her knowledge of the arena to stay one step ahead of the other tributes.
As the days passed, Y/n continued to impress the audience with her skill and her cunning. She was one of the youngest tributes in the Games, but she was also one of the most deadly. She had a natural talent for survival, and she was able to adapt quickly to the ever-changing conditions of the arena.
Despite her success, Y/n never lost sight of her ultimate goal: to emerge victorious from the Hunger Games. She knew that there were still several formidable opponents left in the competition, and she was determined to outlast them all.
As the final showdown approached, Y/n prepared herself for the ultimate battle. She knew that she would need to be at her very best if she was going to emerge victorious, and she focused all of her energy on the task at hand.
When the final battle began, Y/n was ready. She used all of her skills and knowledge to outwit her opponents, and she fought with a fierce determination that left her adversaries reeling. In the end, it was Y/n who emerged victorious, having proven herself to be the most skilled and resourceful tribute in the entire competition.
As she stood before the cheering crowds, Y/n felt an overwhelming sense of pride and accomplishment. She had survived the Hunger Games and emerged as the ultimate victor, a testament to her strength and her courage. From that day forward, Y/n would be remembered as one of the greatest tributes in the history of the Hunger Games, a true champion who had overcome incredible odds to achieve her ultimate goal.
As Y/n emerged from the arena, she was greeted by a sea of flashing cameras and cheering fans. She had just become the youngest winner in the history of the Hunger Games, and her achievement had not gone unnoticed.
Alongside her stood Finnick Odair, the dashing and charismatic tribute from District 4. Finnick had won the 65th Hunger Games at the age of 14, and he had gone on to become one of the most beloved victors of all time. Now, he stood beside Y/n, the newest member of the exclusive club of Hunger Games champions.
As Y/n made her way through the crowds, she was praised for her incredible skill and bravery. She had faced off against some of the toughest opponents in the Games, and she had emerged victorious against all odds. Her youth had been seen as a disadvantage by many, but she had used it to her advantage, relying on her quick reflexes and her natural agility to outmaneuver her opponents.
Finnick, too, was quick to praise Y/n for her incredible achievement. He had been in her shoes once, and he knew just how difficult it was to win the Hunger Games at such a young age. He saw in Y/n a kindred spirit, a tribute who had overcome incredible odds to become a true champion.
Together, Y/n and Finnick became the talk of the Capitol. They were hailed as the brightest stars of the Hunger Games, two young tributes who had proven themselves to be the very best of the best. They were invited to all of the most exclusive parties and events, and they were showered with gifts and accolades from their adoring fans.
For Y/n, the experience was both exhilarating and overwhelming. She had never imagined that she would become a Hunger Games champion, let alone one who was celebrated alongside the legendary Finnick Odair. But as she basked in the glow of her newfound fame, she knew that she had truly achieved something remarkable. She had proven that age was just a number, and that anyone, no matter how young or inexperienced, could become a true champion if they had the courage and the determination to succeed.
2 years later
Years had passed since Y/n had won the Hunger Games, but her name was still remembered by many. She had become a living legend, a symbol of hope and resilience in a world that was often dark and cruel. So it was no surprise when she received a summons to President Snow's office, inviting her to mentor the tributes of the 74th Hunger Games.
At first, Y/n was hesitant. She had left the world of the Hunger Games behind, and she had no desire to return to it. But something in Snow's voice had piqued her curiosity, and she found herself accepting the invitation despite her misgivings.
Y/n pov
I soon returned to my home district, after being at the Capitol to fulfil President snows wishes.
As I arrived, Brutus was preparing to announce this year's tributes. She watched from the sidelines as Brutus approached the bowl of names.
But just as he was about to draw a slip of paper, a voice rang out from the crowd. "I volunteer as tribute!" My eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on a small, tough-looking girl.
She had dark brown hair and freckles scattered across her face. With a proud smirk, she strode up to the stage.
"What's your name?" Brutus asked into the microphone.
"Clove Kentwell," she replied with a smirk.
"Congratulations, Clove!" Brutus exclaimed, applauding. "Now, Y/n, would you do the honors and select our male tribute?"
I nodded and walked up to the bowl, but before I could pick a paper, another voice cried out, "I volunteer for the Games!"
A muscular blonde man stepped out of his aged-group line and began walking towards the stage.
"What's your name?" I asked into the microphone.
"Cato. Cato Hadley," he replied with a smirk, looking out at his district. He then turned to me and winked before taking his place beside Clove.
As they rode the train to the Capitol, Cato began making fun of Y/n for being younger than him. "How is a younger person gonna teach me anything?" he taunted.
"Age doesn't matter, Hadley," Y/n scoffed.
"Why's that?" Clove sarcastically laughed, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Hey, now. Let's not be rude," Brutus said, trying to diffuse the situation.
But Cato wasn't having it. "You're just a kid. What could you possibly teach us?" she sneered.
Y/n took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. "I may be young, but I have experience," she said firmly.
"Experience in what? Tying knots?" Clove scoffed.
"Shut it, Freckles. I could easily put one of my arrows into your thick skull and send you flying across this room," Y/n spat at the small girl.
Clove rolled her eyes, but Y/n could see a glimmer of respect in her gaze. She knew it wouldn't be easy, but she was determined to prove herself to these tributes.
Y/n, Brutus, Clove, and Cato arrived in the Capitol, ready for the 74th Hunger Games.
As they waited for the parade to begin, Y/n noticed that Cato looked nervous. She walked over to him and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, you okay?" she asked.
Cato nodded, but Y/n could see the fear in his eyes. "I'm just nervous," he admitted.
‘Nervous? I don’t do nervous’ Thought Cato.
Y/n smiled. "I know, but you're going to do great. Just remember to stay focused and don't let your emotions get the best of you."
Cato nodded again, and Y/n could see that her words had helped calm him down. As the parade began, Cato and Clove climbed onto their chariot and rode through the streets of the Capitol.
The crowd roared as they passed by, and Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. They were representing their district, and she was determined to make them proud.
As they made their way back to the training center, Y/n pulled Cato aside. "Listen, I know you're a great fighter, but you need to be careful. Don't let your anger get the best of you. Stay focused, and don't make any unnecessary moves."
Cato nodded, and Y/n could see the determination in his eyes. She knew he was going to be a tough competitor, but she also knew that he had what it took to win.
As the days passed, Y/n continued to give Cato and Clove advice and support. She knew that they were all in this together, and that they needed to work as a team if they wanted to survive.
Cato was confident as he entered the arena for the 74th Hunger Games. He knew that he was a strong fighter, but he also knew that he had a lot to prove. Luckily, he had Y/n as his mentor, and she had been a great help to him throughout his training.
As the games began, Cato fought hard, taking down his opponents one by one. But when he came up against Thresh, things took a turn for the worse. Thresh was a tough opponent, and he managed to injure Cato's leg.
Cato was in pain, but he knew he couldn't give up. He thought of Y/n, who had sent him medicine to help with the pain. He knew he had to keep fighting, for her.
As the days passed, Cato continued to fight, but he found himself thinking more and more about Y/n. She had been there for him from the beginning, and he had come to rely on her for support.
As he made it to the final battle, Cato knew that he had to win. He thought of Y/n, and all of the help she had given him. He knew that he couldn't let her down.
In the end, Cato emerged victorious. As he stood on the podium, he looked out into the crowd, searching for Y/n. When he found her, he mumbled the words "I love you Y/n" under his breath.
Y/n heard him, and she smiled. She had grown to care for Cato as well, and she was proud of him for winning the games. She knew that they had a long road ahead of them, but she was ready to face it with him by her side.
#cloveswifey#cato and clove#cato hadley imagine#cato hadley#cato hadley scenario#the hunger games#thg rpg#thg fanart#thg finnick#Thg imagines#cato the hunger games#cato x reader#cato imagine#clove kentwell scenario#clove kentwell imagine#clove kentwell#thg meta#thg fic#thg haymitch#thg peeta#thg headcanons#thg incorrect quotes#thg trilogy#thg rp#thg katniss#thg x reader#katniss x reader#the hunger games finnick#hunger games finnick#finnick imagine
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Asking permission - f. o.
pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader
word count: 7.8k+
warnings: sinful s m u t (18+++!!!!!!), swearing, sexist words, breeding kink/unprotected sex, slight dub-con?, possible cnc (not my intention but it can read that way), brat/brat taming, mention of murderous thoughts, tiny bit of degradation, jealousy, blood kink, overstimulation, edging, cockwarming, rope bunny/rigger, possessiveness, orgasm denial, light choking, light exhibitionism, daddy kink if you squirt- i mean squint*, WE´RE GETTING IT ALL TODAY BABES
prompts: "I own your mind, body and soul darling, remember who makes you scream.", "Let me show you who your real god is.", “If you want this, you’re gonna have to ask me. Nicely.”, “Bite me harder. Sink your teeth into my flesh.”, “If you keep making those sounds I won’t be able to stop myself”
a/n: this is part 1 of @andvys birthday gift/surprise so a happy birthday to my favorite, pretty girl!! i hope you have the best day celebrating, baby. i wish i could celebrate properly with you my love but for now this will have to do. i really, really hope you enjoy it, it´s been killing me not being able to tell you about it. so everyone reading this: go wish her a happy birthday!! uhm this is very long like finnick so have fun and as always remember to let me know what you thought <3
PS: in this for convenience i have them wear regular clothes rather than those gastly coveralls/jumpsuits that everyone in district 13 has to wear so it's slightly au but not really.
You woke up with a dumb smile on your face, your legs still trembling a bit from last night. Your hair was a mess and your cheeks still tear stained. Lightly tracing your neck you were sure it was covered in hickeys. Even though you couldn't feel them you knew you'd eventually be greeted with them in the mirror. Carefully tilting your head upwards you were met with the sleeping face of your boyfriend, who´s heartbeat was the only thing filling your ears as you laid with your head against his sculpted chest. You loved waking up first and getting to watch him in adoration as he slept, he always looked so at ease - so peaceful. His fluffy hair was slightly disheveled from your fingers gripping it tightly in the late hours of the night, a soft smile painted on his beautiful lips as he dreamt about his future with you. He looked otherworldly and you never grew tired of calling him yours.
Laying safely tucked into his side, with his strong arms wrapped around you, still made butterflies erupt in your stomach and you wished with all your might that you could stay with him like that all day. His bedroom in district 13 was like your own little safe haven. No one else had access to it or could disturb you there. You were free to admire and treasure each other, and share your love in whatever way you wanted. There wasn't any of the judgment or drama that you´d be met with outside of the bedroom door, only pure unadulterated bliss.
Wanting to get a head start on your morning and take a quick shower before you eventually had to leave for a meeting, you as slowly and unnoticeably as possible tried to shimmy your way out of Finnick´s arms; so as to not wake him. Your attempts proved futile though as you were met with his morning voice, that was even raspier than usual, and his arms tightening their grip around you.
“Where do you think you're going, pretty girl?”
His ocean green eyes met yours and like always your heart skipped a beat. He smiled at your lovestruck gaze and tucked some hair behind your ear as a soft chuckle vibrated through him. You could never tire of looking at his face, it was true that he looked like a Greek god but his eyes were still one of your favorite parts about him. You could drown in them over and over, they were so full of emotion and you loved how they gave you a small peek into his soul. Your favorite thing was to catch him in the act as he was staring at you when you were out among others. He'd look at you with the most lovestruck gaze you could imagine, his thoughts a million miles away - not registering a word anyone else was saying to him. It made you feel like you were the only person he saw, the only one that mattered in his eyes and he saw you brighter and more clearly than anything else in this world. And unbeknownst to you that was exactly how he saw you, just like you saw him.
“I´m sorry, I didn't mean to wake you” you replied softly, turning over on your stomach so you could properly face him and give his lips a short peck.
“No need to apologize, beautiful. I was already up, but I could feel those gorgeous eyes of yours admiring me; so I thought I'd pretend to be asleep for a bit longer” His smirk was cocky but his eyes were soft as he caressed your cheek. As always he was admiring you just as much as you were admiring him.
You playfully rolled your eyes before kissing his cheek and sitting up. Twisting a loose curl that was hanging down his forehead between your fingers, your eyes found his again “I was thinking of taking a shower, wanna join me?”
He grinned slyly up at you, his arms gripping your sides “No not yet, it's still early”. Normally he wouldn't have been able to pass up such an offer but today he had different plans.
He had a playful gaze, telling you that there was more intent behind his words. Picking up on his silent offer you leaned down, your lips pressing against his again; only this time rather than being short peck, it was a passionate and lingering kiss. You lightly bit his bottom lip, not hesitating to move your tongue into his mouth. He groaned against your lips, lifting himself up and leaning back on his elbows to easier meet your lips as he kissed you feverishly.
You made out in that position for a while before he pulled you on top of him and moved so his back could rest against the headboard. As your legs straddled him, your arms snaked around his neck so you could deepen the kiss. His hands moved all over you, exploring your naked body. You moaned into his mouth as his soft hands gripped your breasts, massaging them and occasionally flicking your nipples with his fingers.
“God I love this heavenly body of yours” he groaned, his hands moving down to your hips as his mouth covered your right tit.
At first he kissed all over your breast, sometimes leaving marks, before taking your nipple in his mouth and sucking on it. His hands slowly started moving your hips so you were grinding down on his exposed crotch. Feeling his cock against your slit made you whimper and as the heat grew inside of the pit of your stomach you knew you needed him inside of you desperately.
As Finnick moved onto your other tit, repeating his process, you started lining your entrance up with his cock. You teased your hole against his head, making you both moan in unison, but before you could lower yourself fully onto him, his hands moved to just below your ribs and lifted you off him. He softly placed you beside him before using his hands to push himself up and off the bed. You watched his back in confusion as he walked to the dresser to grab some clothes, leaving you horny and flustered on the bed.
You looked at his back with bewildered eyes and when he turned around, meeting your gaze, he only shrugged before saying “Come on, we need to get ready for the meeting”.
The whole thing made you question if what had just happened less than 2 minutes ago actually ever happened.
“We still have 30 minutes?” You exclaimed, the primal need inside of you going feral “Do you know what we could get done in that time?”
He chuckled deeply, a smile blooming on his face as his eyes scanned your shocked face in amusement. “I want us to get there before everyone else so we can get the best seats.” He answered plainly, walking over to you. He used his thumb to tilt your head up, swiftly pecking your lips before moving away again.
What the hell was he talking about? No one cared about where they sat during the meetings. Except for Plutarch and Coin, no one ever sat in the same place from one meeting to the next. Any other protests you had, however, died on your tongue as your boyfriend tossed you some clothes; before he headed over towards the bathroom door.
Grabbing the door handle he paused before he slowly turned around, one hand still on the handle. His eyes were dark and stern as they bore into yours “If you so much as think of playing with yourself I'm not touching you for a week” and with that he fully opened the door and entered the bathroom before shutting the door behind him.
Looking dumbfounded down at your clothes you sighed before moving the pile of clothes from your lap and pushing yourself off the bed. Shuffling through the small pile you found the thin, white thong Finnick had picked out for you. As you put on the underwear you examined the rest of the clothes he had tossed you. A pair of knee high socks, a skirt that stopped just above your knees, a cute - but pretty see-through - blouse, no bra.
After putting it all on, and fixing the blouse so your nipples were shining through as little as possible, you sat down on the edge of the bed and grabbed your hairbrush from the nightstand. You gently brushed through your rather frazzled hair, knowing that you´d encounter some knots after last night's activities. Finishing up with the brush, you combed your hands through your hair a couple of times to feel around for stray knots. Not finding any, you put the brush away and walked over to the mirror that hung over the dresser.
Looking yourself over in the mirror, you moved your hair to the side to see just how much of a mess Finnick had made on your neck. From your collarbone and up to your jaw you were covered in hickies, two smaller ones being right next to each other and forming a heart. The blouse only had a short collar, so it wouldn´t hide anything. Since the blouse was white and pretty new you didn't really feel like trying to cover up the hickies with makeup either. Many of your favorite blouses had been ruined by your makeup rubbing off and staining the collar. In the back of your head you wondered if that's exactly why Finnick had picked that one.
Your pondering was interrupted as Finnick emerged fully clothed from the bathroom. “You ready to go?”
You nodded briefly before heading towards him “Just let me go brush my teeth first”. You carefully squeezed past him to enter the bathroom, trying to ignore the fact that he was wearing the cologne that he knew drove you crazy.
Heading straight for the sink you lifted the lever, letting the water run as you grabbed your toothbrush and some toothpaste. As you watched yourself in the mirror brushing your teeth you couldn't help but think back to his words ´If you so much as think of playing with yourself I'm not touching you for a week´. It was tempting, you were alone in the bathroom and as long as you managed to stay quiet he'd never know any better. It would be nice not to have to sit through an entire meeting flustered and what if someone noticed the state you were in and commented on it? Moving your hand down and slipping it underneath your skirt you almost whimpered at the contact with your skin. You were already terribly worked up so it would be a quick affair and it would solve all of your current problems. You desperately needed some sort of release, and if Finnick wouldn't give it to you…
On the other hand, you weren't sure if it was worth the risk. If you did help yourself out, Finnick might get suspicious of the fact that you were suddenly more relaxed and not as needy anymore; and then he might realize what you´d done. The chances of him figuring it out were pretty high, he wasn´t dumb and sometimes it felt like he knew you better than you knew yourself. As you thought it over you came to the conclusion that he´d definitely know, so in the long run it wasn't worth it. Even just a few days without him was torture, he was insatiable and your need for him was inherent; there was too much at stake. Sighing, you decided against it and let your hand fall back to your side.
Spitting out the toothpaste and using the running water to rid yourself of any residue you turned off the faucet and put the toothbrush back into the holder. Re-entering the bedroom, you avoided Finnick's eyes completely - not wanting him to discern your inner turmoil. He raised an eyebrow at your odd behavior but didn´t question it.
-
When you had left the bedroom Finnick had spared no time grabbing your hand and interlinking your fingers with his. Finnick utilized the fact that your fingers were intertwined and pulled you into the meeting room. As you expected, no one else had arrived yet. Not a single team member was ever there earlier than 5 minutes before the meeting was supposed to start, but you decided against questioning Finnick; knowing it was futile anyway.
He dropped your hand as he fully entered the room, examining the chairs before choosing one in the middle of the table and pulling it out. You were about to sit down in the seat next to him when he made a sound of protest. You sent him a questioning look, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion when he patted his lap.
“We never finished what we started this morning darling” he rasped as a cocky smirk grew on his lips, knowing the effect his words had on you.
You quickly placed yourself in his lap, resting your back against his chest. The action made him chuckle.
“So eager” he purred, kissing just behind your ear as his hand started trailing your thigh and up your skirt.
You whimpered as his long, steady fingers hooked around your underwear and just slightly pulled it down. Pushing his hand down to your cunt, he cursed “Fuck baby, so wet for me already?”
You moaned as he started kissing your neck, two of his fingers slowly entering you. It was ecstasy and torture at the same time. Just as his fingers fully entered you, his thumb started rubbing agonizingly slow circles on your clit.
“Finnick” you whined, wanting him to pick up his pace.
“Patience honey” He chastised, making you groan in annoyance. He did however finally start moving his fingers, pushing them in and out of you.
“Fuck that´s where my fingers belong -” he murmured into your ear, kissing your earlobe. “- riiiight there” he smirked, curling his fingers as he found your sweet spot; making you moan loudly. The sound made Finnick stop his movements.
“Naughty girl, you want everyone to hear how well my fingers fuck you don´t you baby? What if someone were to walk past and decided to come in and stop us? You don't want that, do you?” He whispered as he slid his free hand up and wrapped it around your mouth.
Once he had a tight grip around you he started moving and curling his fingers inside of you again - the only difference being that your screams were now muffled by his hand covering your mouth. He pumped in and out of you at a rapid pace and you could feel yourself approaching your high. Finnick could also tell, by how your breathing picked up, and as a result added a third finger and picked up the pace even more. He continued vigorously pushing his three fingers in and out of you, making tears of pleasure start streaming down your face.
You let out a long whine as you felt yourself struggle to hold it in anymore. Just as you felt yourself reach your orgasm, the blissful haze starting to cover your eyes, Finnick pulled his fingers out of you and let the hand that was covering your mouth fall to his side.
“What the actual fuck Finnick” you complained, turning your head over your shoulder to face him as your jaw drapped open in shock.
“What?” He said feigning innocence, happily licking your juices off his fingers.
“I was so close” you groaned, sending him an annoyed look.
“I know” he answered matter-of-factly, flashing you a grin.
“You should've let me come” you argued.
“Hmm” he pondered, pressing his thumb to your lips “No, not yet pretty girl”
“Why” you whined, letting your head fall back against his shoulder in defeat. He just smirked, loving the sounds you were making and how much he was affecting you.
“I was thinking you´d maybe rather have my cock in you hmm?” he replied, looking down at you with a toothy grin.
Your eyes widened as you lifted your head from his shoulder and turned it towards him again, scanning his face to see if he was serious. “Yes, yes please. Fuck, please baby” you practically begged, but you were so desperate for release that you didn´t care.
“I figured” he smirked, planting a sweet kiss to your lips before starting to unbutton his pants and pulling down his zipper.
He lifted you up a bit so he could shimmy his pants and boxers just far enough down for his erect cock to spring free. Before you had time to react he planted you down on him, forcing you to take all of him at once as his hands still tightly gripped your hips. A loud hiss left your lips at the sudden contact but on account of his fingers already having stretched you out a bit, it didn't take long for you to get used to his size. Once you had adjusted to the new position, you started gently rolling your hips as you moved up and down on him.
Finnick tskd and dug his fingers even farther into your hips, holding them still. “No moving” he scolded, harshly slapping your ass with a flat hand to really assert his point.
“Why the hell not?” you groaned, growing exasperated.
However you never got an answer as the door was suddenly pulled open, revealing Plutarch and Coin, with the rest of the team entering not long after.
Coin raised an eyebrow at your position in Finnick's lap but made no other comment than a small huff before walking to her seat. Peeta buried a snort in his hand, the cheeky bastard.
Soon everyone was placed around the table and the meeting went by as it normally would, if anyone had any comments on the fact that you weren't sitting in your own chair they kept it to themselves. Luckily for you your skirt was covering everything, so it just looked like you were sitting normally in Finnick's lap with nothing unseemly going on.
What no one else in the room knew was how torturous it felt for you. Not moving was driving you insane, especially since you were already riled up from earlier. You wondered if you'd be able to shimmy unnoticeably just to get a little bit of friction, maybe you could play it off as if you were just adjusting your position in his lap to sit more comfortably. As if he could read your mind Finnick leaned in close to your ear.
“Don't even think about it” he warned, his voice barely above a whisper. His warm breath fanned your ear and sent shivers down your spine. You swallowed harshly, his hands gripping your hips even tighter to restrain you. How were you ever going to survive this?
-
The meeting droned on and on and felt like it had no end. Your legs almost gave out once it was over and you had to lift yourself off of Finnick. Him being the only other person to know your dirty little secret was right next to your side though, putting a helpful and steadying hand to your back. It was a small gesture, not one that would raise any suspicions; meaning that everyone else was just as blissfully unaware as they had been previously.
Once your legs felt steady enough you grabbed Finnick´s hand and practically ran back to his bedroom, not being able to wait a minute longer. He had chuckled whilst you dragged him along behind you, finding your eagerness very amusing.
The second both of you were through the door and Finnick had shut it behind him you grabbed his sweater, bunching it up in your fist as you pulled his lips to yours; keeping him as close to you as possible. Walking backwards as you kissed him, you used your hold on his sweater to pull him with you to the bed.
Finnick however stopped moving, using his strength advantage over you to force you to stop as well. He carefully removed your hands from his sweater, letting them drop to your sides, making you look up at him.
“You're such a needy little slut aren't you princess?” He chuckled, playing with a stray lock of your hair.
“Only for you” you grinned playfully, hoping that his choice of words meant that you'd get your way.
“Are you sure about that? I saw how Castor looked at you during that meeting. Thinking he could touch what isn't his” His eyes hardened, along with his grip around the strand of hair.
“W-what?” you spluttered, your eyes widening in shock and your brows furrowing in confusion.
“Don´t play dumb baby, you know how irresisteble you are.” His eyes darkened as he scanned your face in thought “I think I need to remind you who you really belong to”
“Oh god…” you gulped, earning a small chuckle from him.
He leaned in closer, his lips and raspy voice mere inches from your ear "Let me show you who your real god is"
And with that he pushed you down on the bed and got down on his knees in front of you. Finnick used his wide shoulders to push your legs apart before he buried himself between your legs. Your fingers instinctively tangled into his hair as he started kissing and marking your inner thighs. You couldn't help but let out a scream when his tongue curled around your clit, the ball of nerves shooting electricity through your body.
Normally you were better at containing the sounds he got out of you but all the buildup and edging had you nearly combusting from just his tongue barely touching you. You mewled as he licked a long stripe up your slit, his nose brushing against your clit before his mouth found its way back to it. He continued to suck on your clit with such vigor it made your hips buck.
Tugging on his hair you ground yourself against his face, needing him as close as possible as you felt yourself already approaching your high.
“Who does this tight pussy belong to?” he grunted from between your legs.
“F-fuck, it belongs to you Finnick” you barely managed to get out between whimpers as you rode his face. A particularly loud moan leaving your lips as he moved from your clit and dipped his tongue inside of your entrance; his thumb moving to your clit to replace his tongue. As his tongue moved inside of you, his thumb rubbed tight circles on your clit; making you arch your back to meet his mouth.
“That's right baby. Fuck, you taste incredible. I could have my tongue buried in you like this all day” He cursed, pressing open-mouth kisses to your throbbing cunt before burying himself inside of you again.
You were seeing stars and knew you wouldn't last much longer, even though you desperately wished to prolong it all and for the euphoric feeling to not fade away.
“I can't wait to feel your delicious cum on my tongue before I bury my cock deep inside of you” Finnick moaned against you, sending ripples through your body.
His words made something snap inside of your brain. Using all the self restraint you could muster you used your grip on his hair to move his face out from between your legs. Exploiting the confusion he was feeling you got up on your legs and started walking towards the bathroom before he had time to stop you. As you walked you desperately tried to hide the fact that your legs almost buckled under you and once you reached the bathroom door you clung to the handle for support.
“Where are you going?” He panted, his breath heavy as he looked at you in shock.
Ignoring him you slowly started pushing down the handle.
“Come back over here baby” he pushed out between breaths, the phrase coming out as almost a whine.
“Hmm” you pretended to consider his words “No”.
“Y/n, I´m not joking get the fuck over here” he growled, growing annoyed with your antics.
“Make me” you spat back, wanting to get back at him for how much he teased you earlier.
“Okay, that's it you little brat” He quickly got on his legs and stalked over to you, roughly grabbing your sides. Before you had time to react he had lifted you up and thrown you from the bathroom door and onto the bed.
Your back bounced against the mattress and you felt your head start to spin. As you laid on the bed almost paralyzed in shock he walked over to the dresser and rifled through one of the drawers.
“I've had it up to here with you-” he mumbled as he stopped rifling through the clothes when he found what he was looking for.
Pulling out some rope he started chuckling as he continued “- thinking you can tease me and walk away… acting like you make the rules here- but you're oh so wrong” His eyes were pitch black as they bore into yours.
He walked slowly over to you, eying you like you were his prey. “Hold out your hands for me” he demanded. You eyed him wearily, not knowing if you had heard him correctly. “I believe I told you to do something” he pointed out, sending you a warning and impatient look.
Not wanting to tempt fate you did as he said, putting your hands against each other and holding them out in front of you. He roughly grabbed your hands and started wrapping the rope around them, tying it into a tight knot; leaving no room for you to protest. He pulled your hands above your head and tied the rope to the bedpost. Tugging the rope to make sure it was properly in place he hummed satisfied. He then pulled your socks and skirt off before grabbing your blouse and tearing it in half, discarding it somewhere else in the room. Once he was pleased with his work his eyes found yours again.
“If you want this, you’re gonna have to ask me. Nicely.”
“And what if I don't want this?” You challenged, even though it was hard to make it sound like you meant it as the words held no real merit behind them. You also didn´t have the upper hand in the situation seeing as you were half naked and tied up.
He chuckled darkly, his fingers starting to stroke between your folds almost making you spasm as a result “You sure about that sweetheart? Because your body is telling me otherwise”
You whimpered, tugging on the restraints as you tried to use your body to rub his fingers against your cunt. “Please baby, I´m sorry okay? I´ll make it up to you, just.. I need you” you pleaded.
“Save your sorrys, I want to hear you beg for it” he answered plainly, walking away from the bed as he started undressing. You watched his movements closely, almost drooling when his back muscles were revealed to you. Once he had shed all his clothes and put them in a neat little pile, he sat down in the armchair in the corner of the room.
Watching your exposed form he started stroking his large cock. “Well?” He raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to start begging.
Watching him stroke himself as he silently moaned your name was making it hard for you to form a coherent sentence.
“Please baby” you groaned.
He laughed a hearty laugh “I'm sure you can do better than that”
You sighed, your mind not finding the words he wanted to hear. “Finnick” you whined, dragging out his name “I need you”.
No reaction.
If you wanted him, you really needed to show him how desperate you were. “Finnick, baby, please get over here. I want you. You´re the only one that can make me feel this way and I really need you inside of me right now. I don't know what I´d do without you and I need you close to me, always.” You looked at him with the biggest doe eyes you could muster, you knew you were laying it on ridiculously thick; but you had to.
He didn't say anything but your words still seemed to do the trick because his hand stilled and he rose from the chair. Reaching the bed in just a few steps he climbed on top of you, easily covering your body with his. He trailed kisses from your shoulder and all the way down to your mound. Reaching your underwear he took the thong in his mouth and used his teeth to rip it off. Once it was off he opened his mouth and let the dripping thong drop into his hand. He reached the hand holding the thong out in front of your mouth.
“Open” he commanded.
You did as told and opened your mouth, letting him place the ripped thong in your mouth to muffle the sounds you'd soon be making.
“Good girl” He praised, pressing a kiss to your stomach. “Now I think it's time for that taste I didn't get earlier”
Quickly burying his face in your cunt again, he cursed “Fucking hell you´re soaked baby” pressing a kiss to your mound he admired your dripping cunt “All this just for me huh?” He smirked, biting your inner thighs lovingly.
You whined but the sound, as expected, came out muffled. You once again tried to move your cunt closer to his face, wanting more pleasure, the action making the rope dig uncomfortably into your skin.
“Don´t worry pretty girl, I´m going to take good care of you” Finnick hummed, grinning at your impatience as he pressed his hand down against your stomach to keep you from moving. Once he was sure you were completely still he moved his face to your slit again, pressing the thumb on his free hand to your clit and burying his tongue inside of you.
You bit down harshly on the thong as his thumb rubbed and pinched your clit and his tongue curled inside of you. The heat pooling in your stomach grew quickly and you didn't know how long you´d be able to last.
“Now I know you´re already riled up from earlier but I don't want you to come before I allow you to okay?” he looked up at you, awaiting your response.
You meekly nodded, not wanting to tempt fate any longer.
His tongue moved in and out of you at a steady pace as he added more pressure to your clit. You tried to buck against his face, but his hand on your stomach made it impossible to move. Pulling his tongue out of you abruptly, Finnick let two fingers scissor into you instead - his mouth going back to your clit again. He sucked again and again as his fingers moved rapidly inside of you.
As he ate you out his eyes looked up at you, finding your eyes shut in pleasure he cleared his throat. Your eyes opened slowly and drifted down to his.
“I want your eyes on me at all times baby” he explained before enveloping your clit with his mouth and picking up the pace with his fingers.
You screamed against the gag and roughly pulled on the restraints as he pumped his fingers in and out of you; the pressure in your stomach became unbearable. You felt like you were going blind, your body feeling numb as you tried to keep yourself from orgasming. Sensing your struggle Finnick stopped his movement on your clit and pulled his fingers out of you. He licked your slit and tasted your juices before he moved his mouth closer to your entrance so you could spill on his tongue. His thumb started roughly pinching your pulsing clit as he awaited the salty liquid to spill out of you.
“It's okay. Come for me beautiful” Finnick rasped out, letting his tongue slip inside of you again. At his words you came violently all over his tongue and face as you bit down on the panties still in your mouth. He kept rubbing your clit and eating you out throughout your high.
Your chest was heaving and your legs shook as you tried to steady your breath. Finnick hummed and moaned at the taste of you on his lips before moving his face to yours.
“For this next part I want to hear all your pretty sounds” He smiled, pulling the gag out of your mouth before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips so you could taste yourself on his tongue. He cupped your face with his free hand, softly rubbing your cheek as he pressed his lips against yours over and over again- the salty taste coating the inside of your mouth.
“Feel how good you taste baby? Now do you understand why I can´t get enough of you?”
You were unable to give him a proper answer so you settled for a hum, still too out of breath and your mind too mushy to form coherent thoughts. As Finnick tossed the destroyed thong somewhere in the room and moved away from you, you let your focus drift to calming your breath. You slowly inhaled through your nose and softly exhaled through your mouth a few times, the action steadying your breath and normalizing your breathing pattern quickly.
Your eyes drifted down Finnick´s chest and to his cock, following your eyes Finnick let out a small chuckle before he turned stern. “Before you get my cock inside of you, I want you to earn it”
Your face looked like a question mark, what did he even mean? Thanks to the rope you couldn't touch him and it also made it so you could hardly move at all. Finnick noticing your confusion chuckled again “Don´t worry, love, I´m going to help you”
Moving closer, Finnick grabbed your hips and lifted you up, placing you softly down on his thigh “Now, I want you to imagine that you're riding my cock, okay?”
You meekly nodded, the restraints still making it difficult since you couldn't hold Finnick´s chest. You tried as best you could to roll your hips against his thigh, Finnick using his hands on your hips to help move and guide you. It was a foreign feeling but it felt good and you could feel the butterflies erupting in your stomach.
“Fuck, that´s it my love. A little faster for daddy now”
You let out a loud moan as you picked up your pace, your juices spreading all over his thigh. Finnick grunted before grabbing your face with one hand and pulling you into a deep kiss.
The body hair on his thigh slightly tickled your mound, his thigh pressing deeper into your slit with each movement. Finnick slowly moved the hand that was cupping your face down to your chest as his other hand continued helping you move. You groaned as he cupped your breast, gently massaging it as he matched your pace.
“You´re doing so well for me darling”
You whimpered into the kiss, the passion burning feeling inside of your stomach threatening to burst at any moment. Finnick moved his hand over to your other breast, wanting to give it the same attention he had given to the other one. With some help from Finnick you picked up your pace once again, moving as fast as you could as you rapidly approached your high.
“Fuck, baby this feels amazing” you moaned, the pleasure overtaking you.
The more you moved, the more you could hear yourself hit the juices you had already left on his thigh. Your breathing picked up, coming out ragged as you tried your best to keep from coming too fast. Goosebumps spread over your body as Finnick moved his hand down your stomach and to your slit, coating two of his fingers with your juices. Once he was happy with the amount he moved his fingers to your lips. You quickly covered them with your mouth, snaking your tongue around them and licking them clean before starting to move your head up and down. Finnick´s breathing hitched as your head moved up and down on his fingers, your eyes in deep eye contact with his. You bobbed your head around his fingers as you struggled to keep up the pace of your hips.
“Come on my thigh angel” Finnick grunted, moving his fingers out of your mouth and wrapping them around your throat.
He gently squeezed your throat, pushing you over the edge. As you came once again, Finnick helped keep moving as you rode out your high - his name spilling from your lips over and over again. As you calmed down, Finnick moved his chest closer to you, letting you rest against it. He gave you some time to settle before he lifted you off of him and gently leaned you against the headboard.
As your breathing calmed again your eyes drifted to Finnick, finding him standing on his knees as he pumped himself in his hand. Finnick, catching your eyes on him, reached his hand forward to you.
“Spit” he commanded. You did as told and watched in bewilderment as he rubbed the spit over his hardened dick.
“N-no Finnick, no more, I´m too sensitive” your voice shook as you spoke and you anxiously eyed his every move. You wanted his cock inside of you, you had wanted it all day but now you didn't think you could handle it. Your legs closed themselves out of instinct, still shaking from coming twice. Finnick didn't answer you and made no comment on the action before moving your legs apart, his cock sliding against your thigh as he moved closer to you.
He used his head to tease your entrance whilst both of his hands cupped your breasts, massaging them and occasionally pinching your nipples. He groaned at the sounds you let out, his lips kissing your neck and biting your sweet spot with just enough pressure to not draw blood. Flicking your nipples with his thumbs he started marking the parts of your neck that weren't already covered in hickeys.
As he pressed himself against you, you could feel the head of his cock just nearly dipping inside of you before it moved away again; his shaft slipping between your folds. His lips found yours, his tongue sliding against your bottom lip in a silent plea for entrance. You opened your lips for him, letting him devour you as his cock slowly slipped inside of you.
“Oh fucking christ you´re tight” he moaned, his large cock filling you to the brim and stretching your walls “God baby, if you get any more perfect I don´t know how long I´m going to last”
You moaned into his mouth, your fingers gripping the ends of his hair. “If anyone here is perfect it's you” you praised.
At that he groaned and pushed deeper inside of you. Moving his hand to press against your stomach he whimpered “Fuck baby, I can literally feel how deep I am inside of you”.
Taking your hand in his he moved it to your stomach, pressing it down softly and putting his on top of yours before moving his cock deep inside of you “Feel that?”
You let out a mix between a loud whine and a moan, making Finnick groan and bury his head in your neck as he continued his steady pace inside of you. “Fuck baby if you keep making those sounds I won’t be able to stop myself”
You whimpered before lightly biting down on his shoulder, wanting to bury the animalistic sounds that were spilling from your lips. The action made a sound erupt from Finnick that you'd never heard before
“Fuck” he moaned, picking up his pace inside of you and going even deeper “Bite me harder. Really sink your teeth into my flesh.”
You were a bit hesitant, not wanting to hurt him, but complied anyway. Putting some more pressure on his shoulder with your teeth you quickly felt a metallic taste coating your lips. Blood. Easing the pressure and swiping your tongue over the small wound you noted how you actually liked the taste of it, Finnick was clearly enjoying it too as he moaned and pounded even harder into you.
“Again” he ordered with a panting breath. This time you didn´t hesitate as you moved your head to his neck, leaving soft kisses on your way there. You slowly licked his sweet spot before kissing it and biting down until you once again felt his blood mix with your tongue. “Fuck you´re hot” he moaned, making you whimper. You loved hearing the sounds he made on account of you, if it spurred you on normally you had to be drenched right now.
Easing your pressure on his neck, you lapped up the remaining blood, pressing sweet kisses to the wound. Exploiting your closeness to his neck you started marking it with hickeys so it soon was matching yours.
Finnick groaned, pounding into you even faster. “I should've killed Castor for the way he looked at you during that meeting. If you weren't placed so nicely on my cock I don´t know if I would´ve been able to control myself”
You had never heard Finnick talk like this, it was shocking and a bit scary but it made the warm feeling pooling in your stomach even more apparent and you could feel even more of your juices run down your inner thighs.
"I own your mind, body and soul darling, remember who makes you scream." Without warning he removed himself from inside of you before slamming into you again, entering you fully all at once. You loudly screamed and clung to him for dear life as your nails scratched all over his back. You could hear your juices squelch around his cock as he buried his cock deep inside of you.
You let your head fall back against the headboard, your eyes roll into your head in ecstasy
“Eyes on me, pretty girl” Finnick grunted, tilting your head back towards him “I want you to look at me as I come inside of you”
You whimpered as he spilled inside of you, his warm seed coating your walls. Finnick kept pounding into you helping you reach your own release, whilst murmuring “My perfect goddess” over and over again.
“F-fuck Finn” You moaned as your cum mixed with his, covering both of you as it spilled out of your entrance.
Finnick started gently moving himself out of you. Once he was fully pulled out you sunk down into the mattress, completely exhausted. He started pressing soft kisses all over your body as he repeated how good you had been. He caressed your skin as he kissed a long trail down your chest and to your thighs. Slowly he let his tongue slide over the cum that was still covering your skin. He hummed as he lapped it up, his tongue moving closer to your cunt and teasing your entrance; making you involuntarily moan his name.
“N-no more” you panted, your chest heaving.
“You keep saying that honey but the sounds you´re making are telling me something completely different” he pointed out “I know what you want, baby, better than anyone else - even yourself. I know you´ve got one more round in you..”
You whined but didn't protest when he buried his face in your cunt once again. His nose tickled your clit as his tongue delved deep inside of you. He lapped and lapped as if he was starved of your taste, even though he had devoured it earlier this evening.
Your thighs clamped around him as he ate you out, shaking due to the exhaustion. Your fingers were gripping his hair so tightly you were sure you were almost ripping it out, but Finnick made no complaints. He just kept moaning your name as your taste coated every inch of his mouth and your juices spread all over the lower half of his face.
He licked and licked, making all kinds of sounds erupt from you. He loved the sounds you made and the power he held over your body. His warm breath fanning your cunt, as he devoured every inch of you, made shivers run down your spine. The heat inside of you felt like the lava inside of a volcano ready to erupt.
“Fuck Finnick, keep going” you moaned, pulling his face even closer to your cunt.
At your words he gripped your thighs and buried himself deeper in you. It didn't take you long to reach your high and you were teetering at the edge waiting for permission to fall off it.
“Finnick-” You whined, letting him know how close you were.
“Come on, let me taste you beautiful” he hummed, eating you out with even more passion than before.
Your cum flowed out of you at a great pace and the parts that didn't go directly into Finnick´s mouth covered his face. Removing himself from your slit he let you get a good look at him before he dragged his hand across it, getting all of it on his hand before he licked it up; groaning in pleasure as he did.
Once his fingers were clean Finnick climbed off the bed and walked over to the headboard. He gently untied the rope from your wrists, tracing the marks in your skin softly before kissing all over them.
“Wait here” he said softly before disappearing off into the bathroom. When he remerged he was carrying a wet rag in his hands. He gently washed your thighs, looking up every once in a while to make sure you were comfortable. You were exhausted and in a state of euphoria unlike any other. As you laid with your head on the pillow, looking up into the ceiling you swore you could still see stars cloud your gaze.
Once he was finished cleaning you up and had discarded the rag in the laundry basket, Finnick climbed back into bed with you. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled you close to his chest and started kissing you gently all over.
“You did so well for me” he praised as he moved his hands up to your face again, combing his fingers gently through your hair.
“I love you” you mumbled as you felt your eyes drift shut.
“I love you too honey. Fuck I never tire of hearing you say that” he replied, kissing your temple as his free hand started tracing circles on your cheek.
“Me neither” you murmured happily.
The hand that was cupping your cheek suddenly started trailing down the rest of your body before it started gently swiping over and caressing your ass. “Baby?” Finnick asked softly.
“Hmm?” you hummed to show you were still listening, even as you buried your face deeper into his chest - ready to drift off to sleep.
“Are you too sore for round two?”
#finnick odair#popcornpoppin#finnick odair smut#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair x you#finnick odair imagine#finnick x reader#finnick x you#finnick x y/n#finnick odair x y/n#finnick imagines#thg#thg imagine#thg imagines#thg smut#hunger games imagine#thg catching fire#thg mockingjay
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Finnick being a protective older brother for 3 movies straight
#thg finnick#finnick x annie#Finnick odair#peeta mellark#katniss everdeen#katniss x peeta#thg incorrect quotes#thgedit#thg movies#the hunger games#Finnick odair x reader#finnick odair imagines#katniss everdeen x reader#peeta mellark x reader#peeta and Finnick#gale hawthorne#finnick odair preferences#thg preferences#thg imagines#the hunger games ships#the hunger games x reader#annie cresta#johanna mason#haymitch x effie#haymitch abernathy#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#peeta mellark imagines#mocking jay part 1#mocking jay part 2#thg kato
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Call out my name
Warnings: 18+, smut, blood kink, slight cockwarming
Pairing: Finnick Odair x female reader
-
You knew that every time, you’d step foot outside district 13 that you would risk your life, that you could always run into trouble, the kind that could get you taken to the Capitol or even killed but you always went out there nonetheless.
Mission after mission, you kept risking your life and no matter where you went or who you were partnered with, you somehow always got yourself in trouble. Not the kind that you couldn't handle but the kind that would always bring you close to a near death situation. Your teammates would tease you for it, they somehow even found a way to make jokes about it and laugh whenever you’d come back covered in cuts and bruises.
But there was one person who didn't find anything about the situations you were getting yourself into amusing at all.
Finnick.
He always scolded you for the way you kept risking your life.
Some moments he was sweet and soft with you, holding you in his arms and hugging you so tightly when you’d come back from missions. He’d help you clean up, take care of your wounds and hold you at night. He was never secretive about his feelings for you, he always let you know how much he loves you, how in love he is with you, he isn't scared to be vulnerable around you to tell you how scared he is of losing you.
But he also never holds himself back from scolding you, telling you how stupid you are for risking your life the way you do and by the look on his face, right at this moment, you already know what's gonna happen when you get out of this building.
It was just you and Finnick on this mission, no one else, no backup, nothing. You were on your own, in a building full of Snow’s little soldiers.
You have no idea how it happened. One moment it was just him and you in this abandoned building and the next moment, peacemakers invaded this place, looking for intruders; Finnick and you.
You have managed to fight most of them off, killing them in the process and just as you thought you had them all off your back, two more soldiers walked in the direction of the entrance. Before you could even pull out your knives, Finnick had put his hand over your mouth and grabbed you from behind, dragging you into another room, he kept his arm around your body while his hand was still over your mouth.
“Shh..”
You struggled against his grip, you would've taken those two soldiers out with ease and you would've had the chance to escape before any of the others would catch you but instead he got you trapped inside this building once again.
“Stop squirming, y/n.” He whispered into your ear as he grabbed you even tighter. If you weren't so angry and annoyed, you would've probably felt butterflies in your stomach from the way he pulled you so tightly against him.
The smell of blood lingered on Finnick’s hand. God knows how many of those peacemakers you had to kill today. You were both exhausted and tired, covered in blood and sweat and you couldn't wait to get back to your hideout to take a shower and sleep the day off but the universe kept messing with you today, that’s why you weren't in the mood to play cat and mouse with the soldiers, knowing you’d have to fight them either way, pushing yourself out of Finnick’s tight grip, you gave away your whereabouts and attacked the soldiers before they could attack you, angering Finnick in the process as you almost got yourself killed when one of the soldiers managed to tackle you to the ground and choke you half to death while he was busy fighting the other one off.
You struggled against the soldier’s tight grip, your vision was getting blurry and you were slowly losing consciousness.
Suddenly, the pressure around your throat disappeared and the body on top of yours was dragged away.
Gasping for air, you started coughing as you grabbed at your aching throat.
You needed a moment to recover before you were finally able to push yourself up on your knees, your eyes widened in surprise as you saw Finnick punching the soldier, over and over again until his face was unrecognizable.
Finnick’s face was splattered in blood, his knuckles blood red as he kept hitting the man beneath him.
You have never seen him this angry before. There was a rage in his eyes you have never seen before, the sound of his voice cursing at the soldier for even laying a hand on you, his language so vulgar, you had to stare at him to make sure that it was actually Finnick and not his body possessed by something.
The man grunted in pain, trying to fight Finnick off but he had no chance. Especially once Finnick pulled out a dagger out; one that you gave him just this morning.
Your eyes widened at the sight of him slicing the mans throat, all the blood splattering across his face. The soldier tried to grip at his throat but the life was draining out of him.
Only as his movements stilled, Finnick got off of him. Breathing heavily as he stood in front of the dead man.
He didn't even bother to wipe the blood off his face, instead he turned around. His eyes locked with yours and for the first time, you felt intimidated by him, by his anger.
He has been angry at you before, he scolded you too many times already but you have never been terrified before. If anything, you’d just continue teasing him to make him even more angry but right now you didn't even dare to open your mouth.
Walking towards you slowly, he stops in front of you, offering you his hand.
You gulp slowly, ignoring the pain in your throat as you looked up at your best friend and mission leader.
“Come on..” He mumbles. His jaw clenched as he stares at you.
You blink a few times, your fear slowly turning into something else as you sit on your knees before him. The way he stares down at you, the way the blood is dripping down his face and onto the cold concrete floor, awakens something in you.
You have always been attracted to him, hell you have loved him from the moment you laid eyes on him but you never dared to make a move and neither has he, despite how open he is about his feelings for you.
“Y/n.” He says, sternly, pulling you out of your thoughts.
Letting go of your throat, you put your hand in his, letting him pull you up, you gasp as you almost fall against him, your legs too weak after what just happened. His hands land on your waist, steading you.
A whimper leaves your lips as you put your hands on his chest and he stares at you so intensely, his lips curl into a slight smirk as he notices your reaction but the angry look in his eyes still overshadows the slightly amused look in his eyes.
His eyes darken as he looks down at your throat, moving his hands up your body, he examines your throat for a moment, clenching his jaw in anger.
You know he is angry at the soldier and if he could he would bring that man back to life just to kill him again but you also know that he is angry at you for not listening to him and getting yourself into that situation.
“F-Finnick-”
“Don’t.” He mumbles “not one word from you, y/n.”
Your lips part in surprise, the anger in his voice so noticeable. You should be scared, hell you should be terrified by his anger, especially after witnessing a moment like this but instead it had you feeling butterflies, making you weak in the knees, especially when his eyes kept flickering down to your lips.
“Let’s go.”
-
The walk back to your safe house was awkward to say the least. Finnick didn't utter a single word to you, he kept glancing at you, the anger and frustration still evident in his eyes and you knew you were in for some scolding once he calmed down but you couldn't care less about it right now.
Finnick’s behavior and appearance right at this moment had you feeling anything but fear or anxiety.
You just wanted to rip the suit of his body and kiss him right then and there, not even bothered by the blood on his face, if anything it just aided your lust for him even further and Finnick could see it; something you were unaware of.
Walking through the front door, you sighed out, relieved that you made it back here without running into any more peacemakers.
Finnick shut the door and locked it before he turned around to look at you.
The look in his eyes stern, his jaw was clenched and he looked at you so intently, the way he always would before he would scold you like a little child.
You couldn't care less about the things he had to say right now. You were way too fixated on how good he looked.
You watch him take a deep breath as he puts his trident down.
“You never listen do you?” He asks, breaking the silence “I gave you clear orders y/n-”
“I just wanted to get it over with.” You interrupt him.
The look in his eyes darkens at your interruption. Not only did you disobey his orders, you also got yourself nearly killed and now you won’t even listen to him.
“I’m alive aren't I?” You mumble, rolling your eyes at him, you turn around to walk into the bathroom but before you can even walk two steps, Finnick grabs your hand and pulls you back, shoving you against the wall “I don’t get why you’re so—“
You gasp in surprise, your eyes lock with his angry ones.
“Will you shut up and listen to me or do I have to make you?”
You blink. Unable to move or to speak. The dark look in his eyes and the angry tone in his voice should scare you but instead you feel butterflies in your stomach.
His anger causing you to feel lust. Lust for him. The kind that you have felt for such a long time now.
Finnick stares at you, his grip on your arms loosens and instead he rests his hands on the wall next to your head.
Your silence surprises him, usually you never shut up and yet here you are staring at him with those beautiful eyes of yours.
For a moment the room is so quiet, the only thing you’re able to hear is the ticking of the clock on the wall beside you and Finnick’s heavy breathing.
You stare at each other for what seems like an eternity. Eyes flickering to each other’s lips and just as Finnick is about to speak up you beat him to it, surprising both him and you with your next words.
“Make me.”
He wastes no time as he grabs your face and slams his lips against yours.
Your eyes widen for a moment as you feel him kissing you with so much passion. You have been dreaming of this for so long and so has he.
He moans into the kiss as you finally kiss him back, putting your arms around his neck you push yourself against him. A whimper leaves your lips as you feel him against your stomach.
You kiss each other until you’re out of breath. Pulling away, he keeps you close as he opens his eyes to look at you “like that?” He asks.
You can’t help but smirk at his question “exactly like that.” You whisper against his lips as you lean in to kiss along his jaw.
The moan he lets out causes arousal to pool in your stomach. His hands move down your ass, grabbing it roughly, he pulls you even closer against him as you start to kiss down his neck, not even caring about the blood and the dirt that paints his skin.
Finnick closes his eyes, the feeling of your lips on his skin making him feel so good. He has been dreaming of this moment for so long. He has been fantasizing about this exact moment for the longest time.
He always dreamed of touching you, kissing you, loving on you.
Grabbing your face again, he slams his lips back against yours as he’s starting to miss your lips against his.
With his hands tangled in your hair and his body pressed against yours, he makes you feel something you have never felt before as he kisses you with every ounce of passion he has.
You both start to fumble with each other’s clothes, pulling it off each other roughly, he rips your uniform off your body until your left in just a tank top and your underwear.
He breaks the kiss to stare at you, taking in the sight of your half naked form in front of him, his eyes darken, a hungry look in them as he caresses your sides, your nipples are poking through your thin white top. He cups your boobs, playing with your nipples, he smirks as you let out a small whine.
He mumbles ‘jump’ against your lips as he grips your waist tightly. He slams you back against the wall once he’s holding you with your legs wrapped around his waist.
Carrying you to the bedroom at the end of the hallway, he pushes the door open with his foot.
Laying you down on the bed, he moves on top of you, spreading your legs with his hands. Grinding himself against your center, he smirks into the kiss as you whimper at the feeling.
“Finnick..” You whimper against his lips “fuck me.”
He chuckles, the tone in your voice is so demanding. As if he'd ever let you make any demands.
He waited for this moment for so long but you made him so angry today, he’d have you begging first.
“Beg.” He rasps as he stares into your eyes.
You furrow your brows, letting out an annoyed huff at his words. He knows you hate begging, or following rules but he wants you at his mercy, completely. He wants you to beg for him.
You swallow, your grip on his neck tightening as you stare into his challenging eyes.
“I don’t beg.” You mutter.
“Oh honey.” He smirks. His hand moves down your stomach, he keeps eye contact as he slowly pushes his hand inside your underwear “you will beg.”
The look in his eyes is teasing and arrogant. He has exactly where he wanted you. He knows you’re gonna beg.
A shaky sigh leaves your lips as his fingers find your clit. For a moment, he doesn't do anything. He just keeps his fingers still as he stares at you, a sly smirk on his face as he watches your pupils dilating. A desperate look on your face as you buck into his hand. Using his other hand, he puts it on your stomach, pushing you down “stay still for me, baby.”
“Finnick..” You whine.
“You’re soaked.” He rasps as he moves his fingers through your wet folds, ignoring your whines. He’s teasing you, waiting for you to cave in and beg “I can’t wait to fuck your tight pussy.”
Another whine leaves your lips as you arch your back in pleasure as he pushes his finger inside you.
“O-Oh my-”
“Feels good doesn't it?” He asks as he pushes another finger into you causing another whimper to leave your lips “I can make you feel even better.” He whispers as he leans in to kiss your jaw. His lips feel so soft against your skin. Your heart skips a beat at the tenderness of his touch.
“All you have to do is beg.” He rasps as he pulls his soaking fingers out of you only to push them back inside “Beg, pretty girl.”
You only manage to whimper in response. His fingers barely moving as he keeps teasing. Pulling his fingers out of you slowly only to push them back inside as he keeps pressing kisses on your jaw.
You try to buck your hips once again but his hand on your stomach keeps you in place.
Your senses are on fire. Your clit is throbbing, begging for attention but he keeps teasing you.
Never in a million years would you have thought that this is how your first time with him would go down.
“J-Just fuck me, Finnick.” You moan as he curls his fingers inside you.
“Just beg, y/n.” He chuckles as he kisses down your jaw until his at your neck. Sucking on your skin, marking you, as his.
You hate it. You hate begging but his fingers feel so good inside you..
“P-Please Finnick.”
“There we go.” He whispers as he finally starts to fuck you with his fingers while his lips are still on your neck “just do as I say and let me take care of you, okay?”
You nod.
He pushes his fingers in and out of you, the sound of his fingers slamming into your wet cunt along with the pretty whimpers that are leaving your lips and your hands in his hair turning him on even more as he feels his cock throbbing in his pants.
The sound of your whimpers and the feeling of your touches are even better than they were in his imagination.
He almost chuckles as you mumble incoherent words along with his name.
“M-More.” You moan as you feel him stretching you with his fingers as he pumps them in and out of you, going faster than before.
“More?” He asks. His lips leaving your neck, he leans up to stare at you “the brat wants more?” Adding another finger, he stares at you in awe as you close your eyes, biting down on your lip as you arch your back in pleasure.
His fingers feel so good.
Finnick curses under his breath at the sight of you coming undone beneath him, your juices coating his fingers as he’s fucking you through your orgasm.
With one hand gripping the bedsheets, your other hand grips his forearm as you let out gasps and moans.
“That’s it baby, come for me, come on my fingers.” He smirks.
“-So good.” You mumble as you buck your hips into his hand.
“Good girl.”
A chuckle falls from his lips at the whine you let out when he pulls his fingers out of you.
Raising his soaked fingers towards his mouth, he smirks at you as he takes them into his mouth. Moaning at the taste of you.
Your lips part, eyes widen as you take in the sight in front of you.
Finnick is still covered in blood from his previous kill, a single strand of hair falling in front of his eyes, a single drop of blood running down his chest from a small cut on his shoulder, his eyes are closed as he savors the taste of you on his tongue.
Pleasure rushes through your body at the sound of his moan, his eyes open, locking with yours as he pulls his fingers out of his mouth.
“You look so good.” You whisper, sitting up, you push yourself on your knees in front of him, putting your hands on his chest, you keep your eyes on him as you lean in to lick his blood, moving up until you’re facing him.
His eyes widen in surprise, the look in his eyes darkens at the feeling of your tongue on his skin “fuck, y/n..” He mumbles. His hands gripping your waist before moving down to your butt, grabbing it roughly.
You were always flirty and cocky with him but you were still a bit shy and blushed easily whenever he made suggestive comments to you so this came definitely as a surprise to him.
He never thought he’d see you licking his own blood of his chest whilst your hand moves down to rub his erection over his pants.
“You like that-” You ask when he lets out a loud moan.
Smirking, you lean in to peck his jawline softly, not even caring about the blood or the dirt on his face as continue kissing him until you’re at his ear “sir?” You purr.
You already knew you’d get a reaction out of him by calling him that. You noticed that when you called him ‘sir’ as a joke after he gave you an order and his eyes darkened with pleasure.
He grunts at your name for him, the feeling of your lips and hands on him is almost enough to make him come in his pants.
Anger rushes through him as he realizes how you’re starting to take control.
Grabbing your face, he makes you look at him “you’re not the one in control here.” He mumbles. Pecking your lips softly before he leans back again.
His move is so sudden, you can only gasp in surprise at the sound of material being ripped apart.
He tore your tank top off with ease.
Cupping your face once again, a cocky chuckle leaves his lips at the sight of your shocked expression “you little brat, you’re being so bad.”
You whine in response once he moves his hand down your stomach again. Doing the same as he did to your tank top, he rips your underwear off.
He pushes you down on the bed and moves in between your legs once he took off his pants.
Your eyes widened at the sight of him, he’s so big, it even makes you nervous and Finnick notices it. His eyes soften as he cups your face gently “hey, we don’t have to-”
“I want to.” You interrupt him causing him to chuckle “you’re just so big.”
He smirks cockily as he brushes some hair out of your face “you can take it, pretty girl.” He whispers, pecking your lips softly “we’ll go slow, okay?”
You gulp, nodding at his words, you grab his neck and pull him down to kiss you, he smiles at you before his lips meets yours in a hungry kiss. His lips move roughly against yours, your tongue meets his.
You moan into his mouth as you feel his fingers pushing inside of you again, collecting your juices, he pulls them out again, taking his cock in his hand, he teases your entrance with the tip, earning a long whine from you, he smirks into the kiss before he pulls away slightly “you ready baby?”
“Y-Yes.” You whisper, holding onto his neck, you spread your legs further as he pushes inside of you slowly.
“Fuck, y/n.” Finnick grunts “you’re so tight.”
You whimper in pleasure and pain, looking down, your lips part, he’s not even halfway in and he’s filling you up so good already.
“Look at me baby, please.” Finnick mumbles against your lips. He intertwines his fingers with yours, holding your hands strongly in his, he leans his forehead against yours.
Looking back at him again, your eyes lock with his as he pulls out only to push back inside of you completely.
He moans in pleasure, cursing at the feeling of your tight walls gripping his cock. He gives you a moment to adjust.
“Oh god-” You moan at the feeling of him fully inside you. You can’t even form a proper sentence, your mouth waters, he fills you up so good.
“Can you feel me in your stomach, baby?”
“Yes.” You whimper, your brows furrow as you begin to grind against him only to have him push you down. With a hand on your stomach he keeps you still.
“W-What-”
“I want you to beg.” He rasps, pecking your lips.
Not this again.
“N-No..” You whimper.
His eyes widen, a smirk tugging at this lips, he already knew you’d do this again.
Chuckling, he smashes his lips back against yours as his hands find their way to your waist, flipping you over so you’re straddling him.
You gasp at the new position, his cock stretches your tight pussy, it almost burns but it feels so good.
You try to grind against him but he stops you by gripping your sides roughly.
Pulling away from the kiss, his eyes open to find you staring at him with a dumbstruck expression.
“Beg, y/n.”
You gulp, sighing in annoyance.
He’s just as desperate as you are but he wants you to obey and he will wait forever and stay inside you for as long as he has to, not that he would ever complain. He has been dreaming of this moment for way too long, he’s enjoying every passing second of this.
He can feel you clenching around him, your juices dripping out of you, he almost caves in but he keeps it together.
“It’s that easy, all you have to do is beg.” He whispers, leaning down he kisses your chest softly, earning a low moan from you.
You know he won't keep this act up for too long, you can feel him twitching inside you, the feeling just making it worse for you as you try to grind against him but his grip on you is so strong.
“Come on, baby, just do as I say.”
He presses kisses all over your chest, your collarbones, your neck until he’s facing you again.
“F-Finnick..”
“That’s right, say my name-” He whispers against your lips “and beg.”
You roll your eyes at him, something that makes him chuckle “alright then.” He whispers.
Laying down, he rests his head on the pillows, whilst he keeps his hands on your hips, keeping you in place. He stares up at you with a cocky and challenging look on his face.
“You look so beautiful.” He whispers as one of hands leave your hips “so perfect.” moving his hand towards your center, he smirks as you let out another moan once he starts playing with your clit “you’re a goddess, baby.”
Closing your eyes, you arch your back in pleasure as he rubs circles on your clit.
“You’re so hot.” Finnick whispers, god he can’t wait to fuck that bratty attitude out of you.
“F-Finnick, I want you.” You whimper.
You felt so overstimulated even though he hasn't even fucked you yet but the feeling of his cock twitching inside you, your walls clenching around him and his fingers on your clit are enough to bring you close to your orgasm.
Sitting up again, he lets go of your hips and takes your face in his hands again “yeah? you know what you have to say, y/n.”
You open your eyes and finally give in “please.”
“Please what?”
“Please, sir.”
“Good girl.” He smirks.
Flipping you over once again, he spreads your legs further, gripping your hands tightly, he pulls out of you and pushes back in again, this time he doesn't give you any time to adjust, instead he starts thrusting into you roughly, keeping his eyes on you the whole time.
“God- fuck.. your pussy was made for me.” He grunts.
You grip his hands so tightly as he ruts into you, your moans are high pitched as you feel your orgasm approaching already.
Bucking your hips, you meet his thrusts.
“Good girl, just like that.” Finnick praises you, he looks at you in awe, mumbling how perfect you are to him before he slams his lips against yours.
It doesn't take long for you both to come but even as you do, you’re unable to stop. He keeps fucking you through your orgasm.
With one hand on your stomach and the other hand holding yours, he thrusts in and out of you. Feeling himself in your stomach, he curses and moans your name, making you whimper in response.
“Fuck- I love the sounds you make.” He grunts.
“F-FInnick.. I’m gonna-”
“I know, me too, baby.”
“Kiss me.” You beg.
His heart flutters in his chest at the sound of your desperate voice, begging for him. Those beautiful eyes of yours pleading for him- god he is so in love with you.
Pushing his lips back against yours, you both moan into the kiss as you feel your orgasm approaching.
“F-Fuck..” You whimper, tears prickle in your eyes from how overstimulated you are
His fingers rub fast circles on your clit as he fucks you roughly. You’re so wet, you can hear it when he slams in and out of you.
“F-Fuck, baby, come with me.” He moans against your lips. The feeling of you clinging to his body as he comes inside you once again, feels so perfect “I love you, y/n.”
“I love you too, Finnick.”
You kiss each other and touch one another, the way you always craved to do it.
Finally.
Finally you’re able to do what you always wanted to do.
One taste and you can’t get enough of each other.
Falling against you, he’s careful not to hurt you as he collapses on top of you. His lips still pressed against yours as it turns more soft and slow.
You are both breathing heavily, sweaty and exhausted but you keep clinging to one another.
You can still feel his cock twitching inside of you, sending waves of pleasure through your body.
Breaking the kiss, he opens his eyes slowly, a soft smile on his lips as he looks at you “are you okay?”
“More than okay.” You whisper, smiling at the beautiful man in front of you “it was about time.” You mumble.
“God, I know.” He whispers, kissing your cheek softly “I’m not letting you go now, you know that right?”
Your heart skips a beat at his words “I wouldn't want it any other way.” You smile.
“Good, you’re mine, y/n.”
You smile as you stare into his soft eyes.
“And I’m yours.” He whispers.
“Yes.” You whisper happily “You’re mine and I’m yours.”
He smiles happily before pulling you into another kiss. This one more soft, slow, he savors every moment as he pulls you on top of him again.
“My girl.” He mumbles against your lips “I love you.”
“And I love you.”
#finnick odair#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair x you#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair smut#finnick x reader#finnick x you#finnick imagine#finnick imagines#finnick smut#thg#thg imagine#thg imagines#thg smut#thg finnick#thg finnick smut
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a darling and a virgin | f. odair
masterlist
summary: you are a victor from district four, having just ended your first victory tour. after being confronted by president snow, you have no choice but to lose your virginity. luckily, your previous mentor is willing to provide some guidance.
pairing: finnick odair x reader
warnings: mentions of forced prostitution, angst, gentle smut, loss of virginity, fingering, lots of consent, praise, happy but also unhappy ending??, reader takes contraceptives.
notes: i’ve recently found that i’m incapable of writing short smut one shots so… i’m sorry y’all. love describing every detail too much.
word count: 6.8k
Your hands were clasped over the balcony railing of the penthouse you were spending the night in, the vibrant artificial lights of the Capitol burning your retinas as you overlooked the city. You had finally completed your first Victory Tour and were offered one more night in the Capitol to enjoy its ‘luxury’ and ‘generosity’ before returning to District Four in the morning.
For the past two weeks, you had read fabricated speeches to each District, resurfacing both your trauma from the Games and the families of the tributes you had murdered in the arena. The toll it was taking on you was heavy, but you managed to put on a splitting grin for every interview, speech, and disturbing congratulation. But not for your previous mentor, Finnick Odair.
Finnick had been there for you through the whole nightmare, even during the week before your Games. His support was unwavering which was one of the many reasons you had managed to survive from the moment you were Reaped to the end of the Tour. It was hard to tell when his mentorship had turned into something more complicated, but it had. It had become more about feelings than simply survival. Not a relationship per se, but not just a friendship either. You teetered on the line between the two, never crossing it and never discussing the fact that you were both aware of it either.
For six whole months.
When the final destination of the Tour came—the grand celebration at President Snow’s mansion—Finnick had told you it was the easiest part. All you had to do was manage a happy face, mingle with obnoxious Capitol citizens, and eat an abhorrent amount of food. He would have been right if you were a different person. If President Snow hadn’t demanded your singular presence at the end of the night.
You exhaled a shaky breath, watching the white mist drift into the light-polluted sky. The President’s words bounced around your head: Desirable… Customers... Family. The conversation played on a loop in your mind. You could remember the repugnant smell of roses, the overwhelming whiteness in the room, and the way his too-pleasant face lit up as fireworks exploded outside the window.
Shivers trickled down your spine, forming goosebumps that were borderline painful. The fact that you were on the ninetieth floor and wearing flimsy pyjama shorts and a thin long-sleeve shirt wasn’t helping either. The crisp wind blew against your body, but you had no intentions of moving to seek warmth. It felt appropriate to stay in the cold when your body would soon know nothing but unwelcome heat.
So lost in your spiralling thoughts, you failed to notice as another body silently took up space beside yours, warming up the side of your arm. This heat was welcome.
“Pretty cold out here.”
A startled gasp escaped your mouth. You straightened up and turned to the owner of the voice, only to find Finnick leaning against the railing, forearms over the edge the same as you.
“Sorry.” He chuckled. “I know my presence can be a little breathtaking sometimes. Nice shorts by the way.”
He turned his head turned to you, revealing his infamous flirtatious smirk. The dimples in his cheeks were prominent and charming. His bronze hair was perfectly dishevelled as usual, as if someone had purposefully placed each strand to give him the ‘sexy bed hair’ look. He was still wearing his white button-up and black trousers; the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows and a few buttons were undone, revealing his toned chest. The outfit had been accessorised with a metallic golden corset-like belt among other decorations that made him fit in with the Capitol crowd, but he must have taken them off. Now the outfit sort of resembled one that a boy would wear to a Reaping. Simple yet formal. Still gorgeous, not that he needed reminding.
Normally, you would retort with a snarky remark or, on the off occasion, flirt back, but instead, you resumed your previous position over the railings. You weren’t immune to Finnick’s charms; you praised anyone who was. You would usually be internally swooning at the sight of him, especially with the way he looked right now and his obvious flirting. But this night was much different. Flirting and swooning were at the back of your mind. All you could think about was your interaction with the president; the way his guards manhandled and escorted you to his study. The conversation that destroyed your hopes of a peaceful future.
Desirable. One word that sent ice coursing through your veins. Or snow, to be more poetic.
“I don’t think you’ve said a word since we got back,” said Finnick, still a hint of playfulness in his tone. He watched your gaze—eyes distant though not really seeing. It was clear something was wrong, so he continued, this time more softly. “You were gone during the fireworks.”
You remained unmoving, staring straight ahead at the city. Only when he uttered your name did he finally gain your attention. As you turned your head to face him, tears began to well up in your eyes.
Finnick noticed the silent distress in your expression and straightened up his stance. He towered over you, brows knitted together whilst his sea-green eyes flickered across your face, looking as if pieces were slowly falling together in his mind.
“He spoke with you, didn’t he?” he said. “Snow.”
To answer his question for you, a tear escaped your eye, but you were quick to swipe it away with a sniffle.
Your arms wound around your torso, hugging yourself as the words began flowing. “After I won my Games, when I was being crowned, he said something to me that I didn’t really understand." Your voice was gentle, just above a mere whisper. “Months passed and I’d forgotten all about it. Until now at least. He told me…” You swallowed the ache in your throat. “He told me, ‘I have big plans for you, Miss (L/N). I think you will be a very valuable asset to the Capitol citizens.’”
Finnick’s face had melted into an unreadable expression. His entire body turned to stone; it was like he was a marble statue portraying a Greek God. All of a sudden, he was sixteen again. He was in Snow’s study, being told that if he didn’t cooperate and essentially sell himself to the Capitol, his family would pay the price. And they did.
With a sad smile, you whispered, “I know what he meant now.”
Something inside him snapped and he broke from his stupor.
“No.” He vigorously shook his head. “He can’t do that. You can’t. I’ll go to him and—fuck!” His hand ran through his hair, making it even more dishevelled. The bright lights from the city were reflecting off his eyes, revealing the shine that was starting to gloss over them. “I can fix this for you, I swear I’ll—"
“Finnick.”
“He’s a fucking—”
“Finnick.” The plea in your voice ceased his panicked movements. He just stood there, looking completely and utterly helpless. You both did. Another tear slipped down your cheek as you stared at him, your voice wavering as you asked, “Can you hold me?”
He let out a breath as if the air had been knocked from his lungs and in one fell swoop, he stepped forward and pulled you into his arms. Silent tears began to flow more heavily, saturating his white shirt which he held you tightly against. There was a hand wrapped protectively around your lower back and another stroking the hair flowing over your neck.
You were certain Finnick let a few tears slip too because you could feel the cold breeze nip at the top of your head the slightest bit more. He mumbled the words “I’m so sorry” over and over into your hair but you just shook your head. You told him it wasn’t his fault, but he wouldn’t accept it. He had told you months ago about his arrangement with Snow. You couldn’t have imagined what it was like for him then, but you would be able to now. You would know every single little detail.
His embrace tightened as you turned your head and pressed your ear to his thumping chest.
The tears had stopped, and you managed to find your voice again. “Snow threatened to kill my family. What if the customers don’t think I’m good enough and he takes it out on them? I mean, I don’t have any experience.”
You remained silent, awaiting his response. When the hand stroking your hair halted, you realised your mistake. You realised what you had just admitted to him and mentally kicked yourself. Repeatedly.
Finnick moved both hands onto your forearms, gently pushing you away from him to get a clear view of your face. The surprise in his expression was enough to make you want to jump over the balcony ledge in embarrassment.
“You’re a virgin?”
Hearing the words out loud would have sent you over the edge—literally—if Finnick’s large hands weren’t wrapped around your arms. You tried to turn away from him, but his grip was unshakeable. Your eyes began to water again, and you felt pathetic.
“Hey,” he said tenderly as he tried to regain your eye contact. “It’s not a bad thing.”
Your distraught red-rimmed eyes snapped back to him. “Not a bad thing? Of course it’s a bad thing, Finnick! I have to give my body to a stranger despite never even having my first kiss! Let alone sex!” As you said the words, the full reality of your situation began to set in. Panic turned to sadness as you realised yet again, the Capitol was taking another innocence you thought was your own to give away. You looked down, your tone becoming quieter. “I thought my first time would be special. Or at least with someone I loved.”
God, you felt so embarrassed admitting that to him. Sure, a lot of your conversations were flirty and full of sensual banter. Sex, however, was not a topic that came up very frequently. You would never want to accidentally cross a line with Finnick, especially given what Snow forced upon him. So you liked to avoid the subject as much as possible. Now, it was inescapable.
He released his grip and sighed heavily, looking out toward the view as if he were deep in thought. The vivid city lights cast an unnatural hue on his usually golden-tanned skin; even now the Capitol was changing him into something he wasn’t. His eyes shut for a quick second before he reopened them and looked back at you. The only time he had looked this serious was the morning of your Games and the night you returned. It was a little intimidating.
His jaw ticked and his gaze bore down into your own. “Sweetheart, I’m going to ask you something,” he began, “and I want you to know you do not have to say ‘yes’ if you don’t want to, okay?”
Alright, now he was really starting to scare you.
“Okay,” you said warily.
The hardness on his face remained for a moment longer, but then his expression softened and became the most vulnerable you had ever seen.
His voice was gentle. “Do you want me to take your virginity?”
*************
You were sat on the edge of Finnick’s bed, toying with the black satin sheets with a frown. Your room didn’t get satin sheets. It was probably one of the benefits of being the Capitol Darling. Not that you envied him very much. He would probably be content with sleeping on a dirt floor if it meant he got his autonomy back.
Finnick was in the bathroom doing God knows what. You weren’t sure if he was trying to make himself more presentable or hyping himself up to have sex with you. The latter worried you. The last thing you wanted was to pressure him into something he didn’t want to do. Then again, he was the one who asked.
After you had told him “Yes, please”, he had tentatively but oh-so-gently taken your hand in his and guided you inside and to his room. Neither of you had spoken along the way; you just walked in silence toward something that would either ruin or deepen your relationship. Despite being two victors, this was still a mentor making sure his tribute stayed alive.
You heard the bathroom door slide open and looked up to see Finnick standing outside the door. Shirtless, pants still on, and towel in hand. It took everything in you to not stare at his perfectly sculptured torso, his equally toned arms, or his broad and muscular shoulders. Instead, your eyes met his for a split second before you returned to the satin sheets.
Blood rushed to your head and everything felt too real. Finnick Odair was standing before you, looking like an angel and willing to fu—
“You’re allowed to look, you know,” he chuckled.
But your gaze remained on the bed.
“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“You won’t.’” He spread the towel on the bed, positioning it in the middle. Then he stopped his movements as he realised what you meant. “It’s not like that. I’m not being forced to do this. I want to.”
Your head snapped up and your heart leapt as those three words left his lips—I want to. For a second, you believed him, but then reasoning came to deflate your hopefulness.
“You wouldn’t want to if I weren’t in this situation.”
He let go of the towel, sitting down mere inches beside you, his eyes amused despite the solemn context. “And how do you know that?”
“Because…” you trailed off, searching your brain for an explanation only to find none. “Because.”
He smirked. “We need to work on your argumentative skills, sweetheart.”
A small smile worked its way across your lips. He returned it with a comforting smile of his own, though the sense of playfulness never left. It never really did and that was one of the things you admired most about him. Even in the darkest of situations, he was able to provide some light.
Rosy heat crept into your cheeks and you were forced to break eye contact again. Hiding how much he affected you was pointless now; if this was going to work out, you needed to be vulnerable with him. With each other. You looked down at the space between your bodies. His hand was resting on the bed beside him and soon enough, it was slowly creeping across the sheets over to your own. He gently brushed his fingers across your knuckles before sliding his hand beneath your palm and interlocking it with yours. You couldn’t help but notice how small your hand looked compared to his, feeling butterflies flutter around your stomach at the small observation.
The both of you silently watched your intertwined hands. That is until Finnick decided to speak up.
“I would,” he said ambiguously, caressing the side of your hand with his thumb. “I would still want to. Even in different circumstances.”
The blush on your face reddened even more; your cheeks were on fire at this point. Even in different circumstances. Was that his way of confessing… that he did have feelings for you? It wasn’t exactly explicit, but it was certainly implied. Oh god, you didn’t know what to think.
You didn’t bother to reply; words probably would have failed you anyway. You just gave his hand a slight squeeze in acknowledgement—well, it was more in appreciation. It was obvious how hard he was trying to make you feel comfortable, but no matter how hard he tried, you couldn’t shake the nerves that were rattling your entire being.
Sex was a pretty big milestone—to you, at least—and here you were, on the precipice with someone you trusted with your life. Did you love Finnick? You weren’t sure. What you did know was that your feelings for him were deep, and even though neither of you had ever clearly confessed to each other, you knew he felt something for you too. Which made everything all the more daunting.
“Are you nervous?” he asked softly.
You nodded.
“We still don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
You shook your head, lifting your gaze to his. “No, I—”
His eyebrows pulled inwards, awaiting your answer. His eyes were so inviting and full of understanding, if you hadn’t lost the ability to form full sentences, you would have found yourself spilling all your secrets to him. He was so patient with you. So good. You had to rethink your uncertainty about loving him.
“I…” you tried again. Your eyes flickered back and forth from his sea-green eyes to his soft, pink lips. As shameful as it felt to admit, you had imagined what it would feel like to have his lips on yours many times before. Usually right before you went to sleep. Never would you have thought the day would come when it would actually happen.
He was still caressing the side of your palm, silently reassuring you, encouraging you to communicate with him. You sighed, closing your eyes. If he wanted you to communicate, then you would.
“Finnick,” you whispered. “Kiss me.”
Your words drifted into the air, stilling everything in the room—the air, Finnick’s hand. Your heart. He just stared at you, unblinking, unmoving, like someone had hit pause on the television at the tensest moment. The tension was tearing you apart and you almost got up and left the room. But you didn’t. Because suddenly, the sides of your face were cupped by large hands and his lips were on yours.
Finnick Odair was kissing you.
His lips pressed against yours once more in one long close-mouthed kiss before leaving again. Shock came and left within seconds and you found the courage to copy his actions. Your lips locked perfectly onto his, remaining still, enjoying the pressure and tingly warmth of simply having them connected. Then your lips moved to kiss him again. And again, and again until soon enough, his tongue had slyly slid into your mouth and you had somehow instantaneously become a master at French kissing.
This kiss felt familiar, despite it being your first. Like something you had done millions of times before, but only with him. Like having his lips on yours was the most natural thing to ever exist.
A hand moved onto your waist and suddenly you were being pulled onto his lap, legs straddling his lap. Your hands fell on his chest, mindlessly wandering and feeling the toned muscles ripple underneath your palms as he pulled you closer by the neck to deepen the kiss. Damn the people of the Capitol, but they were right to say he was an incredible kisser.
“Finn,” you huffed in between kisses, “have you got a rock in your pants?”
He pecked your lips once more with a smirk, resting his forehead against yours as you both attempted to catch your breaths. “No,” he chuckled. “I’ve just got a beautiful girl on my lap.”
Your eyes opened to see him grinning at you with mischief. Oh.
“Is that okay?” he asked.
You nodded jerkily. “Ye—Yes, that’s okay.”
“Okay, good.”
Biting your lip, you looked down between your bodies. Curiously, you rocked your hips along the length of his lap once, earning a quiet grunt from him.
He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “Careful,” his voice was low, tempting.
And of course, in full defiance, you did it again. His warning was a bluff. He made no real action to prevent you from grinding any further on his erection, so you kept moving, and he kept revealing how good it made him feel. The thin fabric of your shorts created a little barrier between his hard lap and the growing sensitivity between your thighs.
Meanwhile, you found yourself never wanting to be parted from Finnick’s lips. With every rock of your hips, your hands ran over every inch of his upper body, eventually settling in his hair. The way he kissed reminded you of stories of District Twelve. A district full of hunger and desperation. Only what Finnick was craving wasn’t the fullness of food in his stomach, but the desire to devour you whole. To ravage you. And by God, would you give anything to satiate him.
Forget what you thought before. This wasn’t just a victor keeping his tribute alive. As clear as the sea on a sunny day, this was a man giving himself over to a woman he loved. You. Finnick loved you.
When you pulled back to tentatively lift your shirt over your head, his eyes stayed on yours. Your breasts were literally bare and he just continued to scan the features of your face. However, you did notice the subtle shift in his breathing.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, stroking the side of your breast.
A shy, cheek-warming smile crept on your face and then suddenly, Finnick was rolling you over. Your head fell back onto the soft silk pillows, Finnick hovering above you. This position remained for a long while, the time spent simply kissing each other, alternating between deep tongue-filled kisses and soft sweet pecks. There were moments when you both stopped to flirt or giggle. These were the times you entirely forgot the whole reason you were doing this in the first place.
It was just you and Finnick. Two new lovers in a perfect world.
After a while, your lips had swollen with warm, passionate heat. You were flushed and you didn’t even need to look to know your hair was already a tangled mess. But you didn’t care.
One of Finnick’s hands had begun to wander down your stomach, breaking the established pattern of merely making out. You knew what was coming and surprisingly, you weren’t afraid. Unlike outside the penthouse apartment, there was no danger. Not in this room, in this bed, or in the hands that caressed you. He grazed across the skin beneath your belly button, causing your body to flinch up into his.
Of course, he smirked at that—the smug asshole.
He returned to your lips before lowering down to your neck and sucking soft, red marks into your fragile skin. His fingers found the edge of your waistband. At this point, you were already breathing like a marathoner.
His lips detached from your neck. “Can Itouch you?”
“Yes, please,” you breathed.
As he travelled down, down beneath your waistband, he pecked your reddened lips once more. A soft gasp escaped you and warmth tingled between your thighs. His fingers were gentle as he began circling that sweet, sensitive spot only you had ever touched. Having someone else touch you felt so much more different, so much more exquisite. Your body responded to his touch immediately, hips following each movement of his fingers, breaths quickening in pace.
Finnick gazed down at you, observing each pleasured twist of your expression. He began to pick up the pace as he noticed your body familiarising itself with the sensation. More pressure was applied and the gasps leaving your mouth were gradually turning into quiet moans.
“This feel okay?” he asked. Obviously, he knew the answer, but after years of having others take advantage of him, he couldn’t help but want to hear your willingness. Your consent.
But you weren’t sure if the words could form. Everything felt like it was vibrating. All you could do was focus on the pleasure his fingers were building.
“Come on, sweetheart. You can tell me.”
His voice had taken on that seductive purr he was well-known for and you just couldn’t deny him. It took everything inside you to muster up the words. “It—it feels so good.”
He smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. The gesture was so sweet, you could have cried. So sweet even with his hand stroking between your legs and his hard cock pressing against your thigh. Time slowed as his fingers sped up. Muscles in your stomach were tightening. Your insides were churning—not like when you first entered your Games’ arena, but in the best way possible. It was a sensation you had never felt before, but before it could build any more, Finnick’s hand stilled. And you genuinely whined at the loss of friction.
Then his hand moved even lower, resting a singular finger over your slick entrance. Your eyes were wide, unsure of how to feel with the sudden turn of events.
Finnick’s eyes flickered between your own. "You trust me?”
You weren’t sure if an easier question existed. “I do.”
And his lips were on yours again, deep and sensual. His tongue rolled over your own, pushing forward and then retreating in a perfect rhythm. He almost successfully distracted you from the feeling of his middle finger sinking into you knuckle-by-knuckle. Some sort of sound resembling a mix of discomfort and surprise vibrated in your throat as his finger bottomed out.
There wasn’t much pain. It was just an odd feeling.
Your lips parted from his and he looked down at you, his eyes holding an immense amount of security as he communicated through your shared gaze.
Does it hurt?
You gave him a gentle smile. No. Keep touching me.
He returned your smile with a grin. Gladly.
His buried finger curled, shooting a sharp pang up into your stomach which caused your back to arch up against his bare torso. Whether you considered it painful or pleasurable was uncertain. Perhaps a mix of both. He did it again. This time you settled on describing it as a tight twinge in your lower stomach which sent a wave of chills down your legs. Definitely pleasurable. Only, he stopped indulging you with the sensation after the second time.
Instead, you felt another finger slowly slip inside you and whimpered. Now that hurt. You felt your inner walls stretch with the second addition and it stung. Especially when he began to scissor his fingers inside you. This was him preparing you for the real deal. How you were supposed to have Finnick inside you when just his fingers had you stuffed was incomprehensible. But you allowed him to keep going, trying to enjoy the comforting kisses he pampered onto you.
“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” he said.
Your hands moved to push back his messy bronze hair as he hovered above you. His dimples deepened with a grin and you swore you would endure any pain to keep them etched on his face. After he deemed you stretched out enough, he slowly rose to his knees, unbuttoning his trousers and throwing them aside. You couldn’t do anything but stare. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath.
The way you gulped was almost cartoonish. How the hell was he supposed to fit? You had never seen a man naked before—you weren’t even sure Finnick was human. He had a body sculptured by the Gods, a face carved by angels, and a… well, let’s just say he didn’t disappoint in any other areas. You weren’t sure if the smug look on his face was real or a carefully curated mask created for his Capitol customers. By the way it quickly washed away, you could tell it was the latter.
He began sliding your shorts down your legs, tossing them to the floor. Suddenly, you felt extremely vulnerable. Almost inferior. Your knees fell together, concealing the most private part of yourself from him. You avoided his gaze, cheeks becoming red and hot as he observed your naked frame. He had a way of looking at you as if you were a long-forgotten masterpiece, rediscovered from centuries of being lost. No one had looked at you like that before him.
Gently, he pried apart your legs and you didn’t bother trying to resist. Only when he descended and settled between your legs did the insecurity dwindle into the background of your mind. Your naked bodies were hot against each other. His weight pinned you against the bed. Everything that was yours touched all that was his. You thought this experience would feel like a dream, but it all felt so real. You were nervous, you were trembling, and your breaths were shaky.
Finnick was quick to recognise the nervousness radiating off you. His arm curled beneath you, somehow pulling you even closer, meanwhile, his other arm rested beside your head. He brushed strands of hair away from your face, soothing you with his tender touch.
“Tell me to stop and I will.”
You nodded. You wanted this—wanted Finnick. It was just the anticipation that was killing you. Your thighs squeezed his sides to tell him you were ready. For a few moments longer, he restarted the pattern of sweet kisses, rolling tongues, and the warmth of blood rushing to your head. His hand was caressing your cheek; yours were splayed on his back, gliding over the rippled muscles.
Then finally, he shifted, his hand moving south to align himself with your entrance. All you could do was watch his focused expression. This was the moment. The threshold of your relationship would be crossed as soon as he pushed forward. There was no one else you wanted to share the experience with because you knew this wasn’t just sex. Not for him or for you; it was more than that. Something bordering spiritual, breaking the bounds of physical pleasure and entering into a deep emotional connection. Something no paying customer of the Capitol could provide.
He was gazing down at you, half-cradling your head as he began to say, “Are you su—" But before he could finish, you had pressed your lips to his, answering his question. You were sure. He nodded in response.
His eyes were hesitant he began to push his tip between your folds. Your fingers dug into his back, more from anxiety than anything else. It became a game of stopping and starting as he moved deeper inside inch-by-inch, allowing your walls time to adjust around him. Never had you seen someone’s face filled with so many emotions—concentration, controlled gratification, affection. So many feelings twisted his expression. Meanwhile, yours held only one. Discomfort. He was so big; you felt like you were being split apart and he wasn’t even fully inside yet.
Finally, when his pelvis connected with yours, you exhaled a heavy breath. It hurt. Bad. Finnick had the right idea to lay down a towel because you definitely needed it. He had you filled to the brim, stretched out and stuffed. Even the slightest shift in his position had your hands flying to his shoulders in pain.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“Yes, just—” You bit your lip in an attempt to suppress a whimper. “Just go slow.”
He nodded. You smiled. Then for some odd reason, you laughed. And then so did he. Finnick’s face fell into the crook of your neck, muffling his boyish laughs into your skin. The added movements had your insides dully aching, but you didn’t pay it much attention. The moment was so innocently intimate that you wanted to stay in it forever. He lifted his head to press his grinning lips to yours and the laughter began to dissipate. Your mouths moved slowly together, full of heat and fervent emotion, and suddenly, Finnick’s body began to move too.
Careful as not to harm you, he slid himself backward in one slow motion and then pushed forward again in another. Pain stung at your inner walls and your lips left his as a gasp escaped your mouth. You were tempted to close your eyes whilst riding out the discomfort but couldn’t bring yourself to look away from Finnick’s face. He was so mesmerizingly beautiful.
His cheeks were a baby pink. Lips were a rosy red. There was a thin sheen covering his forehead, slightly wrinkled by his furrowed brows. Those messy bronze locks you adored so much fell in strands across his forehead. The evident concentration and care on his face just made him look all the more picturesque.
While you admired his features, you started to notice the pain accompanying his slow thrusts was becoming more tolerable. There was still a sting, but also a dull twinge in your stomach that had you biting your bottom lip. It felt sort of… nice. And you wanted to experiment with that feeling.
Your hands were hooked around his shoulders. “Faster.”
Are you sure? His lustful eyes spoke.
You pulled him back down to your mouth. Absolutely.
And so, his hips started to rock back and forth at a faster pace. You could feel yourself clench around his cock from the change of rhythm but forced yourself to relax. He thrust in and out, rubbing against the ripples of your walls, tip brushing at a spot inside you that was anything but pain. That is what you focused on—that one sweet spot.
Time went on and he gradually increased his speed. Your lips were swollen and red, no doubt from the way he would nip and suck on your bottom lip in between each flick of his tongue. His breaths were coming out louder, heavier, as were your own. Soon enough, you were in a rhythm that was both pleasurable for him and for you. The pain lingered but it was no longer unbearable. A shudder ran down your body and your pussy fluttered around him. Finnick broke away from your lips with a breathy groan that you swore you could feel in the pit of your stomach.
“Fuck,” he breathed.
His thrusts became a little faster, a little more painful. A hand slipped down between your bodies and the pain faded quicker than it came. He was rubbing circles around your clit, occasionally running his fingers across it which caused you to lurch upward. All of a sudden, you came to the realisation that everything bad that had been clouding your mind had disappeared. The ache, the confrontation with Snow. Everything. The only thing you could focus on was the pleasure slowly building between your thighs and in your stomach. And Finnick. His tantalising eyes. His wicked mouth. His throbbing cock.
People always said your first time would be horrible; this was anything but. Maybe it had to do with the fact that you… loved him? Yeah, you loved him. Also because he was something of an expert at sex. You were in a pretty unlucky predicament but having Finnick willingly fucking you was a blessing.
His fingers were relentless, applying the perfect amount of pleasure that had you writhing beneath him. And added with the sensation of his cock repeatedly hitting that spot inside you, your uneven breaths turned into soft moans. He fucked, he rubbed, he nipped and sucked at the delicate skin of your neck. Heat was enveloping your entire body.
“Finnick,” you moaned.
“I know, sweetheart. I know.” His voice was strained and hoarse.
His hand left your clit, hooking around your thigh, and curling it around his back so he could thrust even deeper. He restarted his rhythm of rubbing circles, but his thrusts felt different. Instead of just brushing that sensitiveness deep inside you, he was mercilessly hitting it. Over and over. Your moans were louder now; Finnick was more vocal too, grunting and occasionally uttering words of praise.
This went on for a while. His stamina was incredible—if you had a moment to think, you would have realised the depressing reasoning behind it. But you couldn’t think at all. Your heel was digging into his back; nails scratching at his skin. Both of you had a layer of sweat covering your bodies, skin wet, slapping and sliding over one another. Your pheromones had filled the room with the smell of sex, driving your need to finish.
Finnick’s mouth had been everywhere at this point. Your lips, your neck, shoulders, and breasts. Everywhere except your pussy, not that it really mattered anymore.
It was hard for you to comprehend how fucking amazing the sensations you felt were. There was heat and pressure pooling in your stomach, increasing at a slow pace, and growing more powerful by the minute. Finnick’s hips moved at a steady pace, but his hand had begun to slow. Even he had to succumb to fatigue at some point. He sounded like he had run for miles though was obviously pushing himself on for your benefit.
Instead of ceasing his tiring hand movements entirely, he switched hands. And that was when the heat in your stomach turned into a blazing inferno. He was much faster now. Applied more pressure. Your head fell back against the pillow with a cry. His cock was throbbing inside you at the sound.
“That feel good? Huh?” he practically moaned.
He left kisses across the stretch of your neck, running his tongue over the skin and leaving behind red marks.
“Yes!” you cried out.
Your entire body felt like it was being dipped into a white-hot flame of pleasure and the feeling was only increasing. It was clear Finnick felt the same way. His thrusts were becoming more frantic, he was cursing left and right, and he was practically pulsing inside you.
The heat in your stomach was overwhelming but you needed more.
“Finnick, I feel—I feel—” You couldn’t describe even it.
Finnick nodded, breathing heavily above you. God, he looked gorgeous. “You’re gonna come.”
Your half-lidded needy eyes met his. Something about him saying those words sent a wave of acceleration through your body. You hadn’t known what the edge was until you were on the brink of coming, and there was no stopping it. His cock plunged in and out, pushing deep inside you, practically rocketing your orgasm to the surface with each thrust. His fingers moved at such an intense pace you didn’t even know was physically possible.
As your eyes fluttered shut, your mouth fell open and every frantic breath, moan, and cry was able to escape. Finnick had the same problem. Fuck, he sounded so sexy, it only spurred you on.
Then it hit you all at once. “Fu—"
Every inch of your body tensed. You were sent into a space where white noise filled your hearing and bliss was all you knew. No pain. No sadness. Just ecstasy. Electric sparks jolted up and down your body, rising to your head, and causing you to see stars behind your closed eyes. Your moans were uncontrollable and desperate, voicing Finnick’s name over and over.
His thrusts were frenzied and sloppy, prolonging your orgasm as long as he could. He had lifted your lower back into an arch, enhancing the sensation coursing through your body. Your walls were clenching and pulsing around him, so much that he was abruptly thrown into his own high. His hips stuttered and eventually, his cock filled you as deep as he could, spurting out warm strings of white that coated your inner walls.
He collapsed on top of you, face buried in the crook of your neck. Your fingers wound into his hair, clinging to him as the aftershocks of your orgasm ravaged your body. Legs trembling and mouth panting, you lay there allowing yourself to regain your breath and ability to move.
After pressing a lazy kiss to your neck, Finnick slid off you, falling onto the bed beside you. Hopefully the towel was enough to save the silk sheets.
Now that you were resting, exhaustion had the chance to cloud your mind. You weren’t sure what the customs were after sex—whether you made conversation or simply went to sleep. The latter sounded pretty good though. A warm hand slipped beneath your back, turning your body sideways and pulling you so you were half strewn across Finnick’s chest and legs. You made no effort to resist.
Eyes closed, you listened to the heart beating inside his ribs. Thrumming intensely though starting to return to a normal rate.
“Are you okay?” he asked with a murmur, sounding utterly drained.
His thumb drew gentle patterns on the skin of your waist.
You nodded against his chest, remaining silent. After a little while you finally decided to speak. “I’m glad it was you.” And then after a few more moments of silence, you added, “I wish it was just you.”
You felt him press his lips to the top of your head. A long and emotional kiss. The whole reasoning behind losing your virginity returned to mind. It felt heavy, weighing down the atmosphere in the room. No matter how hard you tried to deny it, what was coming was inevitable. You wouldn’t get to stay with Finnick in this bed. You wouldn’t get to belong to him, or he you. You both belonged to the Capitol. To Snow. No matter how much you wished to belong to each other.
He whispered, “Me too.”
#wife-of-all-dilfs ✍️#finnick odair#finnick x reader#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair x you#finnick x you#finnick imagine#thg finnick#sam claflin#catching fire#the hunger games#mockingjay#katniss and peeta#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair smut#finnick odair fluff#finnick x oc#thg fanfiction
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"Not all men" you're absolutely right, Sejanus Plinth would never treat me like this
#the hunger games ballad of songbirds and snakes#the hunger games#thg#thg memes#tbosas#tbosas memes#sejanus plinth#sejanus x reader#sejanus plinth x reader#sejanus plinth imagine#coriolanus x sejanus#sejanus deserved better#coriolanus snow#lucy gray baird#suzanne collins#incorrect quotes thg#sejanus plinth meme#not all men#feminism#lgbtq#incorrect quotes tbosas
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finnick getting off by watching your previous interview with caesar
MDNI 18+
Maybe it was because he missed your warmth, the way you'd clench around his cock, mewling out his name. He couldn't help it. Downright shameful and humiliating, but god, if you didn't look divine.
Finnick's hand wrapped around the base of his cock, one arm behind him on the bed. He exhaled, head falling back, eyes closing as his hand began to move. Slow at first, trying to draw it out. But, the moment you walked on stage, Finnick couldn't hold back. Not with the way your hips swayed as you walked, with the way you waved at the crowd, with the way you kissed Caesar's hand with a flirty smirk. You knew exactly what you were doing. Finnick groaned, biting his bottom lip to quiet himself so he could hear you talk.
"Well, no, as sweet as everyone is here, I've got a boy back home. He's really just perfect. Pretty hair, pretty dimples, sun kissed skin. I think you'd all would just die for him."
Damn you. It got him every time. Another quiet groan escaped Finnick, his thumb rubbing over the tip of his cock, mimicking the way you'd do it. If you already weren't sexy enough, the subtle way you claimed Finnick was enough to make him moan.
Finnick's rhythm was sloppy, desperate, and needy. If you weren't in the Capitol, he'd have fucked you right there. But, his hand would have to be enough for now.
"Caeser!" You exclaimed, and Finnick pretended it was his name you gasped out. "No, no, I won't tell who. A girl has to have her secrets, right?"
Finnick moaned loudly, head falling back as his hips canted up into his tight fist. You continued to answer questions; laughing softly on cue, adjusting yourself in your seat to show off more of your body to the vultures. He remembered seething despite the fact being a siren was his idea to earn you sponsors, but now, he had a guilty appreciation for it.
His soft moans were short, quick, and raspy. He was so close, hand pumping as quickly as he could. Sea green eyes watched you stand, holding your arms out to show the crowd your pretty sea-themed dress. In the direction of the camera, you bowed, the sweet curve of your breasts accentuated.
Finnick's hips stuttered, the fingers on the bed curling into the comforter. His fist closed around his tip, continuing to circle the swollen head of his cock. Within another second, he was moaning your name and cumming into his fist.
#the hunger games#catching fire#mockingjay#finnick odair#thg fanfiction#thg finnick#fanfic#finnick x reader#finnick x you#thg#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair headcanons#finnick odair x reader#finnick imagine#finnick odair x you#finnick odair smut
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jealous finnick?
jealous finnick will be the death of me!!!!!!
finnick odair x fem!reader
Breakfast in District 13 is an unusual affair. Nothing like you’re used to, being from District 4. It’s the same every morning — boring grey oatmeal with either honey or berries, depending on the day. It’s only as you take your seat next to Finnick that you realise you’ve forgotten the very crucial toppings.
“Oh no, I forgot to get berries,” you bemoan. They’re definitely all gone by now, seeing as they’re in popular demand — the oatmeal served in 13 tastes like cardboard without them.
“Here, have mine,” Gale says from across the table. You open your mouth to protest but he’s already spooning a big heap of berries into your bowl. They bleed red and purple into your otherwise plain oatmeal. “I don’t like ‘em, anyway. Too sour.”
“Oh.” You smile at him, flattered. Gale’s been nothing but kind to you since you arrived in District 13. You haven’t put it down to anything other than friendliness. Though it’s possible you’re too enamoured with the blonde next to you that you’re completely oblivious to other men’s advances. “Thanks, Gale.”
Gales smiles back and shrugs. “No problem, Y/N.”
Next to you and unbeknownst to you, Finnick scowls. He hates that Gale’s so nice to you. Loathes it. He knows it’s because you’re a ray of sunshine who draws even the coldest of people in (believe him, he’s experienced it), but the fact that Gale gave you his berries before Finnick could even offer his makes his blood boil. 
Who does he think he is? Everyone knows you’re Finnick’s girl, he’s made it very clear. It’s the whole reason you’re here, after all — Finnick specifically requested you be picked up from home before the Quarter Quell ended, to prevent anything from happening to you.
Breakfast passes without further incident. If you notice Finnick’s sour mood, you don’t mention it. You’re leaving the canteen with everyone else when Finnick grabs your waist and pulls you to the side, into an empty hallway. He peers over your shoulder to make sure Gale’s good and gone, watching the back of his head with a glare that could kill, before turning his attention to you.
“Finnick,” you say, clearly confused at his sudden manhandling. “What’s the matter with you? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Finnick says shortly.
“You look mad.”
“I’m not.”
You squint at him. “You’re definitely mad. Why are you—?”
Finnick forgoes restraint and yanks you forward, pressing his mouth to yours before you can say anything else. His chest burns with molten hot jealousy, it climbs up his throat and pours into the kiss, hot and sticky. The heat ebbs though, when you kiss him back just as fervently, replaced by a fuzzy warmth only you can make him feel. It buzzes in his chest and down his arms, flares out his palm as he takes your face into one hot hand.
He pulls back just as suddenly as he’d drawn in. “You know Gale’s flirting with you, right?” He says abruptly, thumb pressed to your cheekbone.
You blink up at him, still dazed from his kissing. “What?” You ask, half laughing. “No, he’s not.”
“He is. He gave you his berries. I was going to give you mine.”
You raise both eyebrows. “He was just being nice to me.”
“Yeah, well, that’s my job.”
Finnick supposes he sounds quite pathetic. He doesn’t really care, not when your eyes go all gooey and you reach up on your tiptoes to push a curl from his forehead.
“Are you jealous?” You ask him softly, tucking his hair behind his ear. Your breath fans over his mouth and your hand lingers at his throat. “You sound jealous.”
Finnick rolls his eyes. “So what if I am? Just— have mine next time, okay?”
You smile at him, pretty as starlight. “Okay. But you don’t have to be jealous, you know? I only want you.”
Woah, Finnick thinks. “I know,” he says, too quick, his voice a notch too high.
You raise your eyebrows at him. “Do you though?” You ask, definitely teasing now. He supposes he got off lucky, you could’ve done much worse finding out he’s so sickeningly jealous over Gale, of all people.
Still, Finnick narrows his eyes at you. “Alright, that’s enough.”
Your answering giggle is smothered as Finnick swoops in to kiss you again.
-
thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if u enjoyed 🤍
#★ mal writes!#finnick odair#finnick odair blurb#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair x you#finnick odair x y/n#finnick odair x fem!reader#finnick odair imagines#finnick odair fic#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair drabbles#finnick odair headcanons#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair drabble#finnick odair fanfiction#finnick odair fluff#finnick x reader#thg finnick#thg x reader#thg#thg finnick x reader#thg finnick x you#thg x you#thg series#the hunger games#the hunger games x reader#hunger games#hunger games x reader#hunger games x you#hunger games fanfiction
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I recently re-read the hunger games trilogy, so can you write a katniss fic with a fem!reader being secretly haymitch's daughter?? nothing much, just the two of them spending time together, hunting or spending some quality time together, ignoring the capitol, the world and individual problems to enjoy the hours they have together
please let me write for thg i love this request
masterlist
It is a terrible thing to be a Victor. Most people only look surface level, choosing to focus on the gilded trappings and gaudy praise the Capitol heaps upon you. Beneath the facade, living with the memories of what you’ve done is far harder than finding a way to burn through all the money they give you for killing twenty-three other children while all the world watches on. The price of blood was always worse than the price of gold, anyway.
You’ve seen this once before already. The Capitol does its best to stay up to date on every little detail of their lovely Victors’ lives, but when Haymitch Abernathy had his first child, he did everything in his power to ensure that no one would ever find out. That infant would live in someone else’s home, kept out of sight of the cameras and the Arena alike, and she would grow up to be you.
It wasn’t the worst of lives. It kind of was. No one can pick their place in life when they first come into the world, obviously. Otherwise, we’d all be living up in the Capitol and no one would be down here, choking on coal dust, waiting for their bones to turn ash so their body can be burned to heat the homes of the rich and prosperous a million miles away from them.
Haymitch watched out for you as best he could. He sent your foster parents money when he remembered it, always a little out of schedule, a touch too much to cover up for the fact that he forgot the last time around. He started remembering as you got older, though. He stopped feeling ashamed of you and started feeling ashamed of himself.
You see him a lot, although the frequency of your meetings always picks up around the time of the Games. He needs it as a reminder that not everything about him always leads to death and ruin. Once in a blue moon, Haymitch Abernathy is responsible for something good. Something, someone, like you.
There’s a schedule to the Games, one that isn’t known or enforced by the Peacekeepers, and it goes like this: first there is the before, and then there is the after. Prior to the start of the Hunger Games ceremonies, Haymitch will be over at your place. You’ll talk a lot. Both of you will do your best to keep the conversations light. Remember when you were a kid, crawling around all the time? How you used to laugh like crazy whenever it snowed?
Then he’ll get dragged off by the Capitol to go mentor two kids until they die, and then you reach the second phase of the schedule, the after. Haymitch will hole up in his estate in the Victor’s Village, the only occupied house there, the only living being around because he couldn’t save a single person other than himself, and you will find him because no one else will. It’s quiet most of the time. He doesn’t want to think about anything at all, and certainly not the additional two kids who placed their faith in him just for him to let them down again.
After a while, he’ll manage to claw his way out of it, and then you’ll have the better part of a year before the cycle repeats. You’ve had plenty of time to grow used to this pattern, and you’ve perfected it like a pastime. The right words to say get easier to remember when you say them every year. And now, as a reward for getting it right, you get to repeat the process with Katniss Everdeen.
You say that like it’s a bad thing. It’s not. Truth be told, it’s easier spending time with Katniss than anyone else, even right after her first Games when everything is bloody and terrible. You could see yourself doing this again next year, and the next one, and the next. You don’t think you would mind it. Not at all.
Perhaps that’s why Haymitch set this up in the first place. Maybe he knew it would be okay. Or maybe he was just so ridiculously pleased that he managed to save not one tribute but two that he was only thinking about prolonging Katniss’ survival. The reasons don’t always matter. What happened, happened, and secretly you’re glad of it now.
Katniss had been locked in a death spiral of nightmares and bad memories. It soon became clear that she would lose herself to it if someone didn’t intervene, so someone did. Haymitch took Katniss by the shoulders, shook her a little and told her to get it together, and pointed her to you. You knew what it was like to befriend someone who wanted to shut out the world, who couldn’t sleep without nightmares and couldn’t talk without thinking that someone was watching. You could understand Katniss better than anyone, and Haymitch knew it. Daughters are such wonderful pawns to play, aren’t they?
Again, a cruel way to put it, but this is the truth nonetheless. It’s what Katniss suspected the first time you visited her house, and the second, but after a couple of weeks passed and it grew obvious that you weren’t giving up on her without a fight, she begrudgingly let you in. The two of you had been observing each other for years now, the consequence of there only being so many girls your age in a small town in District Twelve, but things accelerated rapidly after the Games.
You’ll never be entirely certain why. Katniss doesn’t let people in, and she threw up her walls tenfold after she partook in the Hunger Games, unable to discern if someone was talking to her because they wanted to or if they wanted to kill her. She even started growing distant from Gale, because Gale didn’t understand her completely, not anymore. Not like you did.
Over the course of the summer, Katniss’ icy demeanor started to melt. She is hesitant and cautious, but she still smiles at your offhand jokes, always a little surprised, like she can’t believe she’s having this good of a time either. The two of you start meeting up in the forest surrounding District Twelve where no one can see you, where it’s just the two of you and the blissful sunlight waving through endless flurries of leaves above your heads.
And, not according to plan, you realize that you’re starting to fall for her. Katniss is like no one you’ve ever met before, even your dad. You knew how to operate around Haymitch, but Katniss doesn’t require an assembly guide or how-to explanation. You just know her. It is as easy as that.
After realizing such a thing as that, how could you not begin to love her? You can steal your dad’s drinks and get properly sloshed on them, but it’ll never match the tipsiness you feel when you look at her; when she laughs at one of your jokes, always reluctant at first but more easily as she gets more used to you. It makes you want to try again and again, and so you do. Katniss listens every time. She says she likes to hear you.
Instead of running away, you decide to embrace the feeling. You head to the woods more and more often, although never at the risk of the Peacekeepers’ attention. Katniss never tells you when she’s going out, nor do you mention when you’re out here, but the two of you have a habit of finding each other nonetheless. You turn around and there she is, emerging from a stand of trees; she crosses a bank at the same time as you; you climb a tree to get a better vantage point of the forest and you’re instantly drawn to the sight of her doing the same across a clearing. Katniss makes sense.
If you squint your eyes just right, you can make your entire world double. The hazy afterimages of present day will swim before you, a hair out of line but still there, still two instead of one. For example, right now, walking through the woods beyond District Twelve, it’s as if you can see two exact images of the current moment instead of only one.
On one version of this day a few years ago, when you hide away from the world in the forbidden greenery past your district’s limits, you come across Katniss Everdeen and you hide from her, too. You do not know her. Not well, at least. You see her and pretend otherwise. She does the same. She heard your footsteps first and thought herself visited by a deer instead of a girl. Her finger tensed on her bowstring, but she released it the second your face finally came into view. Katniss could not kill a person.
Would not. Katniss can kill a person, as it turns out, she can outlive twenty-two tributes through various purposes and keep one other alive, then do it again, but she does not know that yet. All Katniss knows in this past moment, this one half of a fractured memory, is that she will not kill you, and that is true today, too.
On the other version, the one that happens today, you do not run from Katniss, you go to her. That is the whole purpose of risking the Peacekeepers’ wrath by ducking under the fence to escape to the forest. The wilderness means Katniss, and Katniss means you’ll be able to spend another day relatively free from the concerns of a girl from District Twelve who has increasingly little between herself and the violence of not having enough.
Katniss doesn’t turn when you approach, but you can hear the quiet smile in her voice when she admonishes you, “You’re going to scare away all my game.”
You chuckle. “No, no. I’m drawing them out of the bush so you can shoot them. It’s teamwork.”
“If it were teamwork,” she argues, “you would also have a bow.”
You lift a shoulder. “I would never dare steal your favorite weapon. I want you to feel important.”
This does make her laugh. Almost indignantly, yes, but still a laugh. Still a win for you. She manages to nab a few birds before setting her bow down for the morning. The two of you sit side by side in the tall grass, a cool breeze blowing upon your faces, bringing with it the tender tangy scent of the forest.
Usually, neither of you have ever suffered from awkwardness when you’re out here. You could spend hours out here, not saying a word, and it would be just as fulfilling as if you’d spoken the entire time. Today, though, there’s something stuck on the tip of your tongue, a truth that refuses to go unsaid no matter how you fight it.
At last, you give in and, keeping your eyes resolutely ahead, you tell her what’s on your mind. “I’m glad you’re with me, Katniss.”
You can see Katniss frowning out of the corner of your eyes. “Where else would I be?”
You roll your eyes. “You know what I mean. You could have heard me coming and avoided me the second I stepped into the forest. Probably would have caught more, too.”
Katniss shakes her head doubtfully. “No, we’re good. This is good.”
She sets her jaw determinedly, like this settles everything. It does, in a way. It gives you the courage to continue. “I’m glad to hear it. I like spending time with you.” A pause. “I like you.”
Katniss’ brow knits. “Why would you like me?” Genuinely confused, she adds on, “I’ve done terrible things, Y/N.”
“We’re all terrible,” you whisper back softly.
She rolls her eyes. “I’ve been in the Games. You haven’t.”
This is true. No matter how much time you spend with Haymitch or Katniss, nor how many stories you hear about the Hunger Games, it will never be the same as actually taking part in them yourself. With all luck, you never will. Both Haymitch and Katniss would fight to keep you out of them, and then to keep you alive, should that happen, but the possibility shrinks with every year as you get older.
“I still want you,” you tell her. More the empty forest air; you can’t quite say this to her face, not yet. The fear of rejection after everything is too great a burden to bear.
When you do risk a glance over at her, though, Katniss doesn’t look affronted. Instead, she looks more at peace than you’ve ever seen her. Slowly, carefully, her face upturned to catch the morning sun, Katniss smiles again. You’re not even sure that she’s aware of doing it. It is simply the only way she can process that this, you wanting her, would make her happier than anything else.
And, sitting here in the forest, surrounded by a million memories of all that you have done together, a thousand hopes of all that you have yet to do, you look over at Katniss and you know. You know that she loves you. You know that she can’t say it, not yet, not until she’s certain that you love her as much as she loves you.
She will tell you, though. In time. Perhaps it’ll happen another day out here past the confines of District Twelve, in a space that has always been safe to the two of you and will thus protect her from the fallout of confessing to a friend. Perhaps she’ll tell you while you’re asleep next to her, to avoid a response, or perhaps she’ll tell you while you’re pretending to be asleep, so she knows you’re heard and you don’t have to tell her anything.
Or, maybe she’ll just say it now, unspoken but still startlingly loud, audible in every glance your way, every faint smile she never bothers to hide. That, you think, would be enough.
hunger games tag list: @w1shes43, @ilovexavierthrope
all tags list: @wordsarelife
#katniss everdeen#katniss everdeen imagines#katniss everdeen x reader#katniss everdeen oneshot#hunger games#hunger games imagines#hunger games x reader#hunger games oneshot#katniss#katniss imagines#katniss x reader#katniss oneshot#thg#thg imagines#thg x reader#thg oneshot#thg katniss#thg katniss imagines#thg katniss x reader#thg katniss oneshot
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It’s a shame that at no point Katniss sang pure as a driven snow cuz like that would’ve been that man’s last fucking straw
#just imagine xdd#laughing too hard#he’d be FOAMING AT THE MOUTH#coriolanus snow#lucy gray baird#thg#the hunger games#tbosas#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#katniss everdeen#catching fire#mockingjay
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“C'mere, sweetheart-“ & “Breathe, just breathe-" with finnick please 🤍
a life of our own
pairing: finnick odair x reader
summary: finnick helps you find yourself again when you’re rescued from the capitol. you’re desperate to trust him again.
warnings: hurt/comfort, a lil fluff, a lil angst, r was tortured and brainwashed in the capitol after catching fire (i got sooo carried away with this but i luv it! hope you enjoy, please remember to like/comment + reblog!)
hunger games masterlist
Your chest is red-hot with anguish; it’s all you feel lately. Confined to this white room, locked in, spending all your time waiting for something that won’t come.
Nothing is real anymore. Your life is a thick fog that you can’t decipher, can’t tell which bits of it are real and which were planted by the Capitol. They made you a weapon against the revolution, against Katniss and Coin and Finnick.
You know him, that much is evident in your unconscious reactions. The way your chest tightens and squeezes when he walks into a room, how your breath catches and you hunger after his touch despite not knowing exactly why. But you know that he’s familiar and that - at one point or another - you loved him.
He visits routinely like clockwork, every day at around the same time. And each time you don’t push him away, don’t flinch at his touch like you do the others, his confidence grows.
Your doctor has been practicing memory games with you, which parts do your life are real and which are fabricated. You repeat them in your head over and over and sometimes they slip out when you’re talking, too. You’ve been incorporating opinions on top of the basic facts you know, and you’ve been including what you know about him.
You rock on the bed with your knees to your chest, feet tucked underneath you as you recite everything you can remember about him. You mutter it under your breath, tongue clicking as you whisper.
The door creaks and you stop dead mid-sentence. Finnick slips in without a word, pulling a chair up to sit by you. He doesn’t miss the way you eye him warily, watching every movement, every tick of his jaw and twitch of his muscles. You’ve always been perceptive- it’s one of his earliest memories of you. How you watch people.
He sits and watches you in return; you trace every inch of his body with your eyes, the bruises on his arms, the points of his shoulders, the slope of his nose and chin, the curve of his jaw.
“Finnick,” you say. He smiles; his fingers rest on the edge of the bed.
“That’s right.”
You reach out to touch him; he stays dead still as instructed by your doctors, but lets you lift his hand to place it in your own much smaller one. You turn so you’re sitting cross legged facing him, holding his hand in your lap. His heart could burst with the way you’re looking at him, a cocktail of fear and longing in your eyes. Something else lies deeper than that, like you’re being pulled through the rubble of your own mind and to the surface. Something a lot like love.
“Can I ask you something?” Your voice is small, more timid than he’s ever heard from you.
“Anything.”
“You love me. Real or not real?”
“Real,” he murmurs.
“I think I love you, too. I know I did before. I just don’t know which parts of my brain are real.” You fiddle with his fingers, the pad of your thumb rubbing over his knuckles methodically. If this is the only way you’ll ever touch him again, he’ll take it. He’ll take every scrap, every morsel of affection he can eke out of you. Whatever you’re comfortable with.
“We can figure that out together.” He’s soft as he speaks to you and it’s a voice that you remember. A very distinct one in your memory.
“Finnick,” you say again. He nods and shifts closer.
“Sometimes you call me Finn,” he starts, pressing lips to your knuckles. “Or honey. Or idiot if you’re mad at me.”
You smile and he catches a glimpse of you in there, engulfed by everything you’ve seen, everything you’ve been told. But he knows he can pull you out.
“I don’t think I’d ever be mad at you,” you mumble. He purses his lips thoughtfully.
“Well, sometimes I am an idiot. And I know you tell me that because you want to keep me safe.”
You’re in agreement there, not knowing everything but knowing undeniably that you would do anything to protect Finnick.
You shuffle over in the bed and tug at his arm. He tilts his head curiously, knowing what you’re asking but not wanting to be presumptuous.
“You want me to come sit up there with you, sweetheart?”
“Yes please.”
“Okay.” He settles himself next to you, legs outstretched where yours are tucked up tightly to your body. “If it gets too much, you tell me and I’ll go, okay?”
“I don’t want you to go.”
“Then I won’t.”
You shuffle round and swing your legs over his own so you’re almost completely in his lap; his arm comes up and over your shoulders automatically, like muscle memory. This is how you are in your clearest memories- together, a tightly knit partnership. He’s holding his breath, waiting for you to realise what you’re doing and lose composure, but that moment doesn’t come. You just sit and close your eyes, ear to his chest, listening to his heart beat.
“I’m tired,” you croak.
“You want me to leave you to sleep?”
“No.” Your voice is thick and uneven where you’re full of all these new emotions that you can’t quite place. “Will you stay?”
“I’ll stay as long as you want.”
He pulls the thin blanket over your body and smiles as you needle in close to him, face in the juncture of his neck. Hiding with him instead of from him.
“C’mere, sweetheart.” You relax at the pet name, your body going lax against his own as you start to fall asleep.
You can’t be asleep for more than 30 minutes before you start to stir. You’re muttering in your sleep as you start to twitch and reach out for something.
Your brow knits and it forms a crease in the middle of your forehead as you start to cry.
“Honey, c’mon,” Finnick murmurs, his hand pressed to your neck in an effort to rouse you. “It’s just a dream.”
His chest aches; he can’t bear seeing you in this state, knowing there’s not much he can do to make it better. Thinking it’s his fault for not getting to you in time.
You scream and wake with a start, wide-eyed and frantic. Your eyes flit around the clinical looking room as you try to gauge your surroundings and reorient yourself.
“Honey, it’s okay. It was just a dream, you’re safe.”
You scramble back and push him away, curling yourself up into a ball at the foot of the bed. Tears paint your cheeks and they shine in the harsh white lights, hiccuping sobs. He crouches a metre or so away, palms up, arms outstretched in hopes you’ll make contact again.
“Breathe, just breathe,” he says. “You’re okay. I’m here, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”
You’re like a wild animal the way you look at him- panic-stricken and agitated, frenetic in the way you move.
“Honey, it’s me. It’s Finn.”
You swallow thickly and nod, your body slowly starting to unfurl.
“Finn,” you sniffle, holding out your arms. “Finnick.”
He creeps closer still and you practically throw yourself into his arms, face against the hollow of his throat, arms locked around his middle like a vice.
“I have you. I’m right here,” he says, over and over like a mantra. A promise.
“I don’t wanna live like this anymore.”
“You’re not going to,” he whispers. “I’ll be here until you feel well enough and then we can start planning our life. Together.”
“Okay.”
Your fingers card through the short hairs at the nape of his neck, wet eyes meeting his.
“I love you. I know it now, I can remember that.”
“I love you too,” he says, craning his neck to meet your eyes. “You’re my girl.”
You’re hesitant as you tilt your head up to press a kiss to his lips but he welcomes it, his thumb and forefinger holding your chin in place as he pecks you a few more times.
“We’re gonna have a life of our own, I promise.”
“A life of our own.”
#writer#writers on tumblr#writing#finnick odair x you#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair angst#finnick odair drabble#finnick odair fanfic#the hunger games finnick#finnick x you#finnick x reader#thg finnick#hunger games finnick#finnick odair#finnick imagine#finnick x y/n#the hunger games#the hunger games fanfiction#the hunger games x you#the hunger games x reader#the hunger games fic#finnick odair fluff#hurt/comfort#writing for fun
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Imagines
The Hunger Games
Finnick Odair
Deserved better
Protective Finnick
#the hunger games ships#the hunger games x reader#the hunger games preferences#the hunger games imagines#the hunger games#thg#thg imagines#thg preferences#thg movies#thg finnick#thg katniss#thg kato#thg Gale#gale hawthorne#peeta mellark#peeta mellark imagines#peeta mellark preferences#peeta mellark x reader#finnick x annie#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair imagines#katniss x peeta#Johanna Mason#annie cresta#thg fanfic#thg peeta#mocking jay part 1#mocking jay part 2#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#kato x clove
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peeta's a dom and i stand by it
he fucked you like a star-crossed show-off, because peeta wanted to make sure your cunt remember his size. splitting you open and stretching you out always earned a wolfy grin from his lips. “feel that? i'm so deep in your tummy, baby. if i came inside, not a single drop would spill out.” he cooed in your ear, firm grip unmoving from your hips. the tip of his dick had your eyes rolling into the back of your head, making your body all the more weak—he liked it. he liked the fact that he had the ability to make your body entirely crumble under his touch, he savored the sensation and view of your body going limp like a sex toy while you were getting fucked good by him.
sometimes, he was so desperate to feel you flutter and clench around him that he didn’t even bother taking off his clothes, he’d just unbutton his pants and tug them down to his thighs and nothing more. “no i’m gonna soak your clothes.” you forewarned, a frown on your face. “yeah.” he hummed, a smirk playing on his lips. “i like that, sweetheart. soak my pants with your pretty cunt like a good girl. make a mess for me.”
he allowed you only a gram of freedom while riding his lap. his big hands remained attached to your hips, helping to work you up and down. occasionally, he’d give you the liberty of grinding down onto his cock all by yourself, as clumsy as you were in the cock-hungry state, so he'd, in return, hold the back of your head and give you sloppy kisses all over your face. after he feeling the tickle of your hair while it slipped through his fingers, he'd take a grip of it and pull back so gently. he knew just how to be sweet and gentle—until he’s cumming. at first, you'd feel a slight tingle across your scalp. in a matter of seconds, he'd be gripping and tugging like a feral animal, dumping all of his cum into your cunt, and you'd take all of it.
“that's my girl,” he murmured with a smile, watching you struggle to take all of him and his cum. you couldn't hold yourself back. “my good little girl.”
#thg#the hunger games#thg fanfiction#thg imagine#thg fluff#thg angst#thg smut#the hunger games fanfiction#the hunger games imagine#peeta mellark#peeta mellark x reader#peeta mellark fanfiction#peeta mellark imagine#peeta x reader#peeta smut#peeta x reader smut#peeta mellark smut#peeta mellark angst#peeta mellark fluff
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what friends do | f. odair
masterlist
summary: you were a simple town girl. finnick odair was the crown jewel of panem. both of you needed an escape and found it at a secluded beach just outside district four. these were three ingredients that created a year-long friendship. but were friends supposed to have… impure thoughts about one another? you weren’t so sure.
pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader
warnings: smut, wayyy too much detail, dirty thoughts, friends-to-lovers, mild angst, mostly readers pov, pre-rebellion, HEAVY dirty talk, fingering, unprotected p in v (big no no), multiple orgasms, so much pining, creampie, cock-warming
notes: i’m so sorry this took me so long. life has been up my ass lately and, as y’all know, i’m a slow writer. but thank you sm to everyone who patiently stuck around, i love y’all <3 this was supposed to be a short smut fic but um, apparently not. anyway, this has taken long enough to come out so imma stop rambling. ENJOY <3
word count: 11.7k
Mid-Autumn was closely approaching District Four.
Harvest in the fishing industry was at its peak and the docks were chock-full with boats bringing in their plentiful catches. The town centre was a bustling scene, crowded with people selling produce and trading for food to bring home to their family's kitchen table.
Last year's autumn harvest was the same picture—overflow, hustle, commotion; chaos like this was something you never came to enjoy. So, it was also around this time last year that you had decided to set off in search of the perfect location away from the rest of society. A place where you could be at peace, where you could forget the disastrous world you lived in.
District Four was home to many popular beaches, but the one you discovered was uninhabited, isolated, found after an hour-or-so-long trek through overgrown dirt pathways and a thicket of sea-grape and palm trees. A true paradise away from society. Or so you had thought in the first few weeks.
You weren't too sure when he had started showing up or how he had even discovered the beach.
However, one evening, as you were seated in the sand watching the sunset on the darkening horizon, you noticed a dark figure diving and surfacing in the flat, glimmering water. Their movements were so poised and fluid like the ocean was something they had conquered. You guessed it to be a dolphin or shark because there was no way a human being could move so gracefully.
But then the figure started wading to shore, and the next thing you knew, they were standing on two legs and exiting the water. You knew then that you had guessed wrong. The sun behind him obscured the bronze of his hair and the swirling lukewarm sea that pooled around his pupils. All you could see was the outline of his tall broad figure as he hiked through the sand toward you.
Fear had told you to bolt from the approaching stranger. You were in the middle of nowhere—it was the perfect place to be murdered or kidnapped. But something else, some deep and tangible instinct, also told you to stay.
"Didn't realise I had a captive audience," thestranger spoke, droplets of gleaming water sliding off his body and into the sand as he stood a few feet away.
Taken by surprise, you fumbled over your words trying to form a sentence in response. "I wasn't—I didn't—"
"Easy, honey," he chuckled. The sound was so warm and pleasant that it almost alleviated the slight chill in the air. "Just pulling your leg."
Your mouth formed a small circle. "Right," you said, gaze locked on the golden sand in embarrassment. "I, uh, didn't think anyone else knew about this place."
To be honest, you were pretty sure it was a restricted area. Probably the reason it was so isolated. If a Capitol official found you, the consequences would most likely involve your tongue, a scalpel, and a hell of a lot of pain. All for a wanting a little peace and quiet.
"Neither did I," the man said. "I only come every now and then. Need an escape from the constant buzz back home. Time for myself, you know?"
"Yeah." You smiled, feeling the stranger's words resonate in your soul. "Yeah, I do know."
You thought you saw the corners of his lips curve into a smile, but the shadows on his face were so prominent that you couldn't tell.
"Mind if I sit?" he asked.
Well... if he were going to murder you, he would have done it already. So, you nodded. Sometimes you questioned your survival instincts. Or lack thereof.
He didn't leave much space as he sat beside you. Only an inch or two, meaning you could feel the humidity of body heat and salt water emit from his skin. Even sitting down, he was still quite tall compared to you, but that wasn't what caused your heart to drop into your stomach.
The setting sun, which no longer disguised his face with shadows, now illuminated his entire figure and revealed his identity. His hair was a mess of wet wavy strands, the colour alight like a pale fire beneath the sun's orange radiance. His skin was sun-kissed, no doubt from days he had spent perfecting his swimming abilities. And those dimples... wow.
He was gorgeous. A man sculpted by the gods of beauty, just like everyone in Panem had depicted him to be. Even his sea-green eyes were as striking as everyone said.
Finnick Odair.
The man who was crowned victor of the sixty-fifth Hunger Games at fourteen. Who trapped multiple tributes at once in a net and killed them one by one with his famed trident. A killer.
The man whose reputation in the Capitol was known nationwide. A proud womanizer.
That was what everyone made him out to be.
Only, in the brief interaction you shared with him, he seemed like quite the opposite. He radiated effortless charm and warmth, but not in the arrogant way the media had portrayed him. Then again, did the media ever accurately portray the truth of anything?
It was then that you determined it didn't really matter who people said he was or what he had done. He was a human being—just like you. He deserved a chance.
His pink lips stretched into a knee-weakening smile; you were grateful that you were sitting down.
"I'm Finnick, by the way."
The both of you knew he didn't need to introduce himself. The whole of Panem knew his name and face. Though the fact that he humbly did so anyway made you like him the tiniest bit more.
You returned his smile with one of your own and introduced yourself.
Time passed and the sun had set; the moon had risen, but you both remained sitting side-by-side in the sand. Conversation flowed so naturally between the two of you that it was difficult for you to remember that stopping and getting some air into your lungs was an important factor in keeping a conversation going... as well as keeping you alive.
You told him about yourself as he did himself—some things that were meant to remain secrets, some things that seemed too strange to tell anyone else.
At some point, he had offered to walk you back to your house. The trek was over an hour long but neither of you seemed to care. The time flew by.
When you were standing at your front door and he was gazing up at you from the bottom of the steps, you both promised to meet again the next day. And you did.
As you did the day after that... and the day after that... and the day after that...
**********
As soon as the nights carried that familiar chill and the town congested with markets and fervent buyers, you knew mid-autumn had made its return. This meant most of your evenings were spent at a certain secret beach with a certain District Four victor.
Having already finished his pre-sunset swim, Finnick was sitting beside you, fingers weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath you. A couple of weeks after you had first met, he had shown up one day holding it all rolled up in hand.
"Made this for you to sit on," he had said with a proud smile. "Took nearly all night and earned me a few good finger cramps, but I think it was worth it."
Pinpointing the exact moment your attraction to him first formed was tricky. However, that gesture was one your mind returned to often. That little palm-leaf mat, the time and effort he put into making it, was scored on your heart.
Finnick was very much a gentleman.
He would always offer you a hand when standing up and whenever you walked back through the overgrown seaside forest. Sometimes he picked fruits for you such as sea grapes and mangos or would climb one of the palms and knock down a few coconuts. One thing he always, always did wasmake sure you got home safe; he never let you out of his sight until you were safe inside your front door.
All those gestures, big and small, added up. Soon enough, Finnick Odair had infiltrated your heart and consumed all your thoughts. You saw his sea-green eyes staring back at you whenever you gazed out at the ocean by your house. Felt the ghost of his hands on yours whenever you picked a grape from the kitchen fruit bowl. Heard his voice calling out your name in your most vivid of dreams.
But there was more to it than innocent adoration.
The guilt came when your gaze started lingering on his body a little too long whenever he left the water at the beach. Shimmering droplets would glide down his beautifully tanned skin; his arm muscles would flex as his fingers raked back his dripping wet hair. It wasn't yourfault he was the walking definition of perfection.
Unholy was the closest word to describe the filthy thoughts that had perverted your imagination. What started as endearing daydreams soon became fantasies that had you seeking relief between your thighs late at night. Your thoughts went wild whenever he dropped you off at your house. It took everything in you not to invite him inside and ask him to fuck you senseless against the front door.
All you had to do was ask. You knew he would say yes.
A year is a long time to know someone. A long time for feelings to grow. It also serves as a lot of time for things to happen between two people—things that linger in your mind even months after they have happened.
Like the times he would walk by you and teasingly whisper something provocative in your ear, then disappear for an hour of swimming, leaving you all hot and flustered in the sand. Neither of you would acknowledge it when he returned. Or when conversations took such a flirtatious turn, the tension only dissipated when houses were separating you at the end of the night.
But that's just what friends do, right? They tease and banter?
Maybe.
However, not all things could be chalked up to being just friends.
Another thing about Finnick's eyes was that they were transparent. You saw how helplessly they clung to you the days you stripped to your underwear and joined him in the water. He had this sort of reaction that turned his eyes into a dark violent sea, like you were some divine temptation planted to test the strength of his resolve.
Sometimes he could resist. Other days it was obvious he couldn't help but reach out and touch.
He would try to be subtle about it. Hands holding yours a little longer than necessary when he helped you stand up. Sitting too closely beside you so that your arms and legs would graze against each other. Brushing off pieces of seaweed that would stick to the dip of your waist and then constantly using the same excuse just to feel the heat of your soft skin.
There was one interaction, though, that you fell asleep to the thought of every night. It was a moment when things almost went too far; an interaction friends definitely did not share.
You could remember it clear a day. Hell, you could still feel it clear as day.
It was a hot summer evening. Both you and Finnick were at the beach and swimming in the water since being in the muggy coastal heat for more than five minutes was parallel to roasting in a thousand-degree sauna.
You were about twenty meters offshore, bobbing beside Finnick as he dived to collect various seashells. That boy could hold his breath for an unbelievable amount of time which meant sometimes you spent minutes alone on the surface, waiting, listening to the calm waves lap eerily around you.
This is exactly how people die in shark movies, said an unwarranted voice in your mind.
As usual, a minute went by. Nothing to worry about. Then a minute turned into two and you were starting to become a little concerned. And then it was two and a half minutes and you were now panicking.
"Finnick?!" you called out, hoping he could somehow hear you from the dark depths.
Three minutes had totalled, and you were pretty certain he had drowned. Just to add to the utter dread coursing through your veins, something slimy brushed against your foot. Most likely a piece of seaweed, but you didn't make that connection at the time.
That very same moment, Finnick burst through the water's surface, only mildly breathless and pinching a small iridescent shell between his fingers.
"Look at thi—"
Before the words could leave his mouth, he found himself enveloped in your distraught embrace. Your face was buried in the crook of his neck, crying tears of relief.
Damn that stupid seashell.
He automatically secured you in his arms, concern palpable in his voice as he asked, "Are you okay?"
You pulled away, an indistinguishable combination of tears and saltwater rolling down your cheeks. Though it was hard to miss the look of distress found in your furrowed brows and trembling lips.
"Don't ever do that to me again!" you exclaimed, gripping his arms to emphasise your urgency. "You hear me?! Ever!"
Finnick's head tilted slightly, surprised by your emotional reaction. He hadn't realised he meant so much to you. The surprise faded into remorse, softening his features.
"I won't. I won't, I promise," he said sincerely. His eyes flickered over the worry lines etched on your forehead. He unconsciously brushed his thumb over the lines, hoping to draw out the anxiety with his touch, and then tucked away a strand of hair. "I'm sorry I scared you."
You took in a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to compose yourself. A mess of emotions stirred inside you—worry, embarrassment, irritation. You were partially frustrated with Finnick for making you fear for his life. Mostly annoyed with yourself for showing such vulnerability in front of him.
"God, you're an idiot sometimes," you sighed, shaking your head.
He smirked. "Didn't think you cared so much about me."
"No, you just don't think, Finn."
He glanced off into the distance for a moment with furrowed brows. "Well, that's definitely not true," he countered, meeting your gaze again with a half-smirk. "I think about a lot of things, actually."
"Oh? Like what?" you asked, slightly annoyed. "Do tell me what the great Finnick Odair thinks about instead of his own safety."
Slowly, the smirk faded from his lips. Something new tinged the atmosphere and suddenly everything around you seemed hotter than it previously was. Not an uncomfortable or sweltering heat, but one that held an intensity that sparked the air with electricity.
You suddenly became very aware that Finnick was still holding you in his arms. You recognised the confined proximity between you and him and realised that, before this moment, your bodies had never been so close.
Your legs were curled around his hips, pelvis pressed firmly against his. The position of his hands, which were keeping you afloat, was bordering on inappropriate but would only be deemed as such if you cared. Which you didn't. You liked it—having his hands on you.
One thing you couldn't ignore was the flickering of his gaze. How his eyes kept dropping to your lips. How they blatantly revealed a long-awaited confession that words just couldn't capture. Still, you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted to hear the purr in his voice as he told you.
Then he was leaning in. You weren't sure whether it was on purpose or if the pure magnetism of the tension between you was drawing him closer. Regardless, you started to lean in closer too, eyes drooping as you focused on his mouth.
And before the short distance between your lips and his became immeasurable, you whispered, "Tell me, Finn."
The hands keeping you afloat trailed up and down your back restlessly as Finnick forced a tense exhale through his nose. He seemed to be wrestling with thoughts. You waited in anticipation, and right when it seemed like he was going to make a move—
"I think..."
—you were interrupted. By no less than a pod of dolphins as they leapt from the water, causing you and Finnick to jolt from each other's embrace.
The rest of that evening was not worth mentioning. Not because you had forgotten what happened, but because the sheer awkwardness between you and Finnick afterwards was so torturous that you wanted to keep the memory squashed in the recesses of your mind. Neither of you acknowledged what happened. Finnick still walked you home, but it was done so in agonising silence.
Surprisingly, you both returned to the beach the next day. You hadn't expected him to be his usual upbeat self, but he was. So, in turn, you too acted like the previous day was erased from history. But your friendship with him was never the same.
Flirty conversations no longer felt like a joke; they now had a deeper meaning. Fleeting touches caused full-body goosebumps that didn't happen before. There was so much unresolved tension, and it was painfully thick. Inescapable.
So, as Finnick sat beside you present-day, weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath your bodies, you couldn't help but notice the transparency of your body language and his. The gap between you both was comparable to the size of a pearl and even though neither of you acknowledged it, you kept catching each other stealing quick glances every half-minute or so.
When you were sure he wasn't looking, you found your gaze drawn to his fingers. They were sturdy, yet nimble; curling and manoeuvring in ways that had your face feeling hotter than the heat of any sunburn or warm summer's day. This heat was beneath your skin. Spreading through your limbs in little tendrils and wrapping around your nerves. A dip in the salty sea wouldn't cool you down nor would a gulp of cold fresh water.
As you stared at his hands, you knew only the source of the sensation could offer reprieve. But that wouldn't happen, so there you burned.
The fact that he was shirtless and that his hair was a gorgeous mess of damp bronze curls helped not one bit with taming the consuming desire inside you. God, you were a mess yourself.
You sighed.
The sun, glowing intensely with a divine orange, was beginning its descent on the horizon. Your feet were buried beneath the soft sand, trying to retain some warmth as a slight breeze blew against your exposed skin.
Wearing a short sundress probably wasn't the most practical idea. Embarrassing as it was to admit, practicality wasn't what was going through your mind when you decided to wear it... Someone—Something else was.
"Something on your mind?" Finnick asked suddenly.
Your heart fumbled in your chest, terrified that he had somehow heard your thoughts. "Sorry?"
"You sighed," he said, turning his head to look at you. "Or am I just getting so old that I'm already starting to hear things?"
With relief of his lack of mind-reading abilities, you laughed softly. "You're definitely getting a bit old, Finn," you teased. "Any nursing homes you've been considering?"
"I heard retirement by the sea has its perks," he quipped, subtle dimples present as he returned to his weaving. "Although, I will need someone to make sure I don't fall asleep while swimming and get carried out by the tide. What d'you say, sweetheart? Up for becoming my personal lifeguard?"
Absolutely. "Depends. Will you force me to wear one of those awful flowery swimming caps with a matching tankini?"
He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "I'm thinking more like those little red bodysuits. You know, the ones that zip open down the front?"
You reprimanded him by pushing his shoulder, wearing a betraying smile. "Very charming."
"I just think red's your colour, that's all," he laughed.
Your stomach fluttered. You knew he was teasing you; teasing was basically the foundation of your... friendship. Deep down, you knew there was also some truth behind his words. A truth that was as electrifying as it was upsetting—how long were you both going to keep up with this whole 'friends' charade? Could you handle it if the answer was forever?
Best not to think about it. For your sanity's sake.
Finnick finally settled into a comfortable position with his forearms locked around his bent knees, apparently having decided to continue his mat-weaving another time. He had been extending it bit by bit ever since he first made it for you. At this point, you were sure he was attempting to cover the entire beach. For now, it was only big enough for two people to lie down on.
Sounds pretty convenient, came an abrupt thought.
And then you fell down yet another rabbit hole of depraved daydreams... A pair of hands interlocking your own above your head. Hot lips pressing kisses to your neck. Tongue gliding up the sensitive skin of your jugular. Your fingers tugging at bronze curls between your thighs.
You were sick. Diseased with immorality. Finnick was your friend. If not your best friend. You're not supposed to fantasise about fucking your best friend.
"Thinking about anyone in particular?"
You almost choked on your saliva. "W—What?"
How did he keep doing that?
Finnick seemed to find joy in your perplexity. It was written all over his face. God, those fucking dimples. "You've been completely still for nearly five minutes and your legs are covered in goosebumps," he pointed out. "Hence the question: who are you thinking about?"
As you looked down, you found that your skin was in fact riddled with goosebumps. It didn't occur to you then that the only reason he could have noticed was if he was staring at your legs in the first place. It also didn't occur to you that Finnick obviously had the very same debauched thoughts running through his own mind.
Why did you have to wear such a revealing dress? He already struggled enough with resisting you at the best of times.
If you had been paying attention, a simple glance in his direction would have revealed how his ears were pink and his pupils were dilated. More importantly, you would have seen his legs constantly shifting to ease the discomfort tenting his pants. Fortunately, he had mastered the art of winding himself down in a short amount of time.
Unfortunately for you, that ability was not within your skill set.
You scoffed. "In case you haven't noticed, Finnick—it's autumn," you said, a quick snappy lilt in your tone. "I know you've got some weird internal space heater built into you, but normal people tend to have a reaction to the cold."
Well, it's a good thing you didn't sound defensive...
Finnick raised an eyebrow at you, displaying a puzzled half-smirk that spoke a thousand words.
You lowered your head in embarrassment, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry," you murmured. "I just, uh, don't really like the cold."
"Who could've guessed."
Despite serving as an excuse, it wasn't entirely untrue. You really did dislike the cold. And it was now that you seriously regretted your choice of sparse attire. The breeze kept blowing up the dress's skirt, threatening to expose your dignity to the world. Or more accurately, to Finnick. Thankfully, you had decided to wear a pair of delicate lace underwear that morning instead of old granny panties.
Nevertheless, now that it was on your mind, you couldn't think about anything but the cold gusts of wind blowing against you. Chills ran over your skin and you were shaking like a leaf.
Finnick, being the gentleman that he was, scanned the surrounding area for anything he could use to keep you warm. He would've given you his shirt had it not been crumpled in a ball of wet sand on the ground.
There was nothing else of use. Nothing except a single apprehensive idea sitting in the forefront of his mind. It was all he had. He bit the inside of his cheek as he contemplated the potentially disastrous idea.
Then, after taking a silent deep breath, he finally said, "Come here then." Your eyes snapped to his. You must've looked like you had seen a ghost because his brows knitted together in confusion. "What?" he breathed out a chuckle. "I'd prefer not having to carry you home as a block of ice."
You thought about it for a moment. Was it really such a good idea after the thoughts that were just swarming in your mind? Another gust of wind blew by and you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself.
"I won't bite, sweetheart. Not unless you want me to," he added.
You rolled your eyes. "Oh, shut up."
With that, you slid across the mat, positioning your body, which was still facing the sunset, in front of his legs. There was a moment of hesitation. Anxiety. But before you could reconsider, Finnick wrapped a strong arm around your middle and pulled you back against his chest, situating your body between his legs.
The exhale that left your lips was instantaneous and you couldn't help but shudder at the warmth of his skin. "God," you sighed, overwhelmed by the sudden change in temperature. "How are you so warm all the time?"
"Oh, you know. Weird internal space heater."
You laughed softly, then felt Finnick's chest vibrate against your back as he joined you. His bare arms wound tighter around you, motivated by the affectionate atmosphere. Your body seemed to melt into the cocoon of warmth he provided, and a soft smile graced your lips.
"Better?" he asked.
You nodded, responding with a whisper, "Thank you."
"Anytime."
You could hear the smile in his voice and how intently he was trying to hide it. You wished you could have seen it. To see the sense of peace you shared. However, feeling it in the way he held you was enough.
Instead of blood, your heart now seemed to be pumping out rather odd alternatives—waves of sea-green salted ocean, iridescent seashells, smiles paired with heart-stopping dimples. How could he? How could Finnick condemn you to loving him like this? So unwaveringly; so without a hope of ever being able to return to life without him in it.
He made a mess of you. A ruin. And even with wholesome affection running through your veins, you still couldn't ignore the hazy images conjuring in your mind from the way his body was pressed firmly behind you.
How could he?
The sun had just touched the horizon, granting the sky a few more minutes of light, meaning it was almost time to head home—an upsetting reality. You weren't sure how much time had passed before your body started to ache from lack of movement.
You wiggled your toes which were buzzing like television static. The feeling started moving up your legs and you knew if you didn't stretch, you would later embarrass yourself trying to stand on dead legs. So that is what you did. You started moving.
First, you stretched out the muscles in your legs and then moved onto straightening your back against Finnick's chest, feeling the faint pops of your spine offer you relief. And then you started readjusting your position and wriggling your hips to fit more comfortably between Finnick's toned thighs. That was your first mistake.
"Stop moving."
You were taken aback by the rigid inflection in his tone. "What?" you asked, ignoring his warning and continuing your restless movements.
"Stop. Moving," Finnick repeated, sounding more strained.
His hold on you became stiff. Completely frozen.
You were confused. Everything was perfect a moment ago, and all you were doing was stretching—why was he being so weird and snappy?
In response, you exhaled sharply. "I'm just trying to get comf—"
"Fuck," he breathed out.
Your eyes widened and it was safe to say your stomach had flipped inside out.
That was the moment you finally realised your second mistake. The rigidness in his voice wasn't him being snappy with you at all. Not even close. He was just trying to prevent the pleasure he felt below from reaching his vocal cords.
But it was too late. It wouldn't have mattered if he managed to keep quiet because you could feel it now. The achingly hard length that was pressed against your backside, reaching all the way up to your tailbone.
"...Oh," you whispered.
"Yeah," Finnick said. "Oh."
Now it was your turn to freeze. Fear consumed you, similar to what you imagined having to remain motionless in front of tyrannosaurus rex to prevent from being eaten alive was like. Thanks to the damning wind, strands of your hair blew behind your shoulders, undoubtedly tickling the exposed skin of Finnick's chest. Even that minuscule movement had your heart threatening to explode with anxiety.
As per usual, panic wreaked havoc in your mind.
What do I do? Do I get up? How will we come back from this? Does he—
Finnick cleared his throat. "Uh, you still alive in there?" he chuckled nervously.
You felt minor relief enter your bloodstream upon hearing the normality in his voice. At least one of you was composed enough to act normally. Well, as normal as one could act after becoming hard due to their best friend sitting in their lap.
"Is it—" You swallowed the nerves rattling your voice "—is it because there's a girl sitting on your lap, or is it because it's me?"
That was the million-dollar question. Was his reaction simply biological? A natural response to stimulation? Or was it deeper than that? More personal.
Finnick was silent.
The rapid thumping in your chest moved to your ears, like a drumroll leading up to some grand reveal. You felt dizzy; both filled with dreadful anticipation and exhilaration. Your senses were so heightened, fuelled by an inane bout of adrenaline. You swore you could almost hear the gears turning in Finnick's mind, smell the smoke as they rotated over and over, trying to make sense of your question and form a suitable response.
Religion never played a factor in your life, but, oh, how you were zealously praying his answer would be the one you spent all your nights fantasising about. But still, he was silent.
And right when you believed he wasn't going to respond at all, his lips finally uttered that single life-changing word. "You."
Fireworks seemed to light up every nerve in your body. You.
You weren't sure what to make of your thoughts at first. The overwhelming abundance of emotion caused by a singular word was difficult to fathom. Only one sentiment stood out from the rest—and that was the fact that Finnick felt the same as you did for him.
It was no longer a speculation. It was a fact. A truth. An undeniable reality. You had both verbal and physicalproof, literally digging into your backside.
Finnick slowly, very slowly, unwound an arm from your torso, and you held your breath. His hand slid across your waist and then plastered itself over your hipbone, careful not to apply too much pressure to make you feel uncomfortable. When you felt the slight movement of his thumb gliding across your clothed skin, you exhaled the burning air in your lungs with a shaky sigh.
"Do you want me to get up?" you asked softly while staring at the sunset, although you were focused on anything but.
"Not a chance." And then he unwound the other arm, now cupping both sides of your hips with two large hands. The heat from his palm sank into your skin, sinking deeper layer by layer until it reached the rapid flow of your bloodstream. "Do you want to get up?"
You felt a pulsing sensation between your thighs that had your parted lips inhaling slow deep breaths, and you knew the only logical answer was no. So, you shook your head.
Finnick reached up to skilfully tuck a lock of hair behind your ear before placing his hand back on your hip. He then leaned down beside your ear, voice a hot, velvety whisper, "What next then, sweetheart?"
A wave of chills ran down your entire body.
What next? Another question for the ages. You had dreamt of this moment a million times over. You had pictured the unholiest, most vivid of scenarios, and yet here you were, mind blank as an empty void.
Then it hit you. Rather than acting from a pre-planned script, wouldn't it be better to just let your body act on what it naturally desired? On instinct? You took in a deep, stabilising breath and gave yourself into moment.
You slowly began turning your head to the side until, for the first time since he pulled you into his arms, your eyes flickered up and found Finnick's. His lips quirked with the ghost of a smile at the exchange, but he held it back. His jaw clenched and unclenched, muscles ticking with tension.
He was looking at you in a way you had never seen before. Or perhaps, you were just never close enough to notice, and he had always looked at you this way. There was a blazing intensity in his eyes, dark and penetrative, a bridge between yearning and total reverence. It was so enticing that you could feel your hands itching to undress yourself in front of him.
Finnick murmured your name.
"Yes?" you managed to whisper.
"Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this?"
Those words—he had stolen them from the tip of your tongue.
You couldn't find the strength to muster any profound response. So instead, you found your head tilting back and the crook of your elbow winding up and around the nape of his neck. You didn't need to guide him down; he came willingly.
His lips caught yours in a soft, warm exchange. Singular yet prolonged. Then there was a brief pause of disconnection, a calm before the storm. And with Finnick, when it rained, it poured. Suddenly, a hand was cupping the area where your jaw and neck connected, and his lips were on yours again.
There was so much more heat in this kiss. A depth that kept growing with each connection of your lips. You could hear the fervour in the breathless exhales that exited his nose, the quiet groans that slipped into your mouth. Though the same could be said for you.
You couldn't subdue the moans and meek whimpers that leaked out. Especially when his tongue slipped into your mouth and took control over your own. At this point, you couldn't even be called putty in his arms; you were pure liquid, totally and completely submissive in his embrace.
It was impossible to tell who was throbbing beneath you anymore. All you were sure of was that the pretty lace panties you had put on that morning were now soaked. Though even if he never touched you, you wouldn't have cared. Having his lips on yours, his tongue on yours, was enough. And if he kept at it long enough, you were sure it would even be enough to get you off. That's how much power Finnick had over you.
Apparently, he felt the same too. Because when you leaned further back into him and your ass pushed against the length of his erection, his fist scrunched the fabric of your dress by your hip and his lips left yours to let out a shuddering breath.
"Fuck, sweetheart," he huffed, half chuckling.
Technically, it was a suppressed moan. Either way, you swear you almost came then and there.
With one last gentle kiss, you opened your eyes, pulling away to replenish your lungs with air. Finnick's eyes were already locked on yours in a drunken haze from the taste of your lips. Your arm unwound from his neck, grazing down his broad shoulders and bicep. During so, your eyes caught on the tiny bumps and raised hair scattered across his arm.
"You've got goosebumps," you smiled, trailing your fingertips across his skin.
His gaze moved to follow your hand, wearing a boyish grin. "Would you believe me if I said I was cold?"
Your throat buzzed with a suppressed giggle. Seeing the way his body reacted to yours was incredibly motivating. Someone telling you they lusted after you could easily be spoken with deception. But having visual confirmation, witnessing a reaction that couldn't possibly be forced, was a whole different story. Finnick's body craved you.
Given that incentive, the slight trepidation still holding you back now disappeared into the back of your mind. Your fingers curled around his wrist, dragging the hand beneath your jaw down to your neck, and then down to your chest. It didn't take him too long to figure out your intentions. He overtook your influence and autonomously moved his hand to cup your breast.
You were essentially caged in his embrace. Exactly how you wanted it.
You stared ahead with relaxed eyes, watching as the sun slipped into the dark water. Night had officially blanketed District Four and, now being shielded by darkness, the stars were your only witness. Strangely enough, you felt a new sense of shamelessness.
So as Finnick kneaded your breast in his warm hand and pinched the sensitive peak of your nipple between his thumb and forefinger through the lace of your bra, you allowed a soft moan to escape your lips.
It was almost as if you could actually feel the smirk growing across Finnick's lips behind you. One thing you actually could feel was the twitch of his achingly hard cock beneath you.
"You like that?" he asked, definitely smirking.
"Yes," you sighed almost immediately.
If only he knew how truly euphoric you felt. If only he knew how many times you had imagined being in this exact situation. Having him touching you like this. The guilt of imagining him in such a way used to eat you up. But now that you were past the guilt, there was no shame connected to the thought of Finnick eating you up.
Fuck, he would look so perfect between your thighs—bronze curls all messed up from your pulling and tugging; sea green eyes squeezed shut as he dedicated his attention to dragging you down to the pits of hell with his tongue.
Your head fell back against his collarbone. He took this as a signal to move your hair aside and start planting hot kisses onto the curve of your shoulder. Then he trailed further across, brushing his lips across your skin until he reached the side of your neck and started sucking gently, though enough to leave behind pretty little red marks of possession.
"What about this?" he murmured against the delicate skin.
The faint taste of sea-salted air sat in the back of your throat as your breaths deepened. You felt his tongue glide partially up the length of your carotid artery, and your entire nervous system seemed to short-circuit.
"Yes,"you practically whined.
He must have found this amusing because you could feel the vibrations of his chuckle against your neck. But he wasn't finished yet. Hell, the finish line was a lifetime away regarding the things he planned on doing to you. They probably couldn't all be done in one night though, unfortunately.
You had completely forgotten about the hand still splayed on your hip. Why would you pay it any attention when it was sitting idle? Only it wasn't simply resting on your hip anymore. No. Now it was moving. Moving down.
His lips were still on your neck and he was still cupping your breast, but all you could focus on was the carnal descent of his hand. He found the hem of your dress, fingers toying with the flimsy material as one did when deciding whether or not to go through with something potentially consequential. Ultimately, he began to drag the fabric up your thighs, knuckles grazing over your soft skin until the skirt of your dress was ruched around your hips.
You sucked in a sharp breath. The vulnerability of suddenly being exposed in such a manner hit you like a tonne of bricks. This was really happening. Finnick, the Capitol's darling, District Four's golden boy, and more significant;y, your best friend, was touching you. He was kissing you. He was seeing and feeling parts of your body you had never let him see or feel before.
Naturally, this unfurling web of thoughts produced a surge of insecurity.
But, when his hand curled around your inner thigh and spread a wildfire of warmth across your skin, every thought that was previously passing through your mind disintegrated and was replaced with unadulterated yearning.
Finnick's mouth finally detached from your neck to hover beside your ear. "And this?"
He lightly kneaded your thigh to emphasise his question, dangerously close to the place that undoubtedly crossed the boundary between friend and lover.
You were speechless. The desire running through your veins was paralysing. All you could do was look, see, feel, and hope to god you didn't pass out from the shallowness of your breathing.
"Come on, sweetheart," he roused in that low, seductive purr. "Don't go quiet on me now. Use your words."
And how could you ever disobey a voice like that? It took every ounce of strength and concentration you had in you, but eventually, you managed to find your voice.
"I—" You cut yourself off with a gasp as his thumb purposefully wandered up to the edge of your underwear. Asshole. "I lie awake every night imagining us like this, Finn. You don't need permission to touch me. You've already had it for months."
Suddenly, a gentle finger was turning your chin, compelling you to meet Finnick's gaze. His eyes lacked the intensity from before and were now brimming with awe, brows knitted as if he was asking for confirmation if what you had said was truthful. And it was, painfully so.
To answer his wordless question, you leaned forward and connected your lips with his. He responded with ardency, and not long after, you could feel his hand wander up to the waistband of your panties.
He wasted not a second before dipping his hand beneath the lace material and finding that sensitive spot that had been begging for his attention.
Your lips separated from his to let out a breathy moan. "Finnick."
He simply smiled, two fingers rubbing circles around your clit. He pressed gentle coaxing kisses to your lips, and you really did try to respond, but you were never one for multitasking. Especially when the man you had fallen in love with was touching you so.
His other hand wandered across your torso, holding your waist, grazing over your stomach, tracing the length of your sternum. All very loving adorations compared to what his other hand was doing.
"I think I'm going to hell because of you," he murmured, millimetres away from your lips. Such a disconcerting thing for someone to admit, but all you could manage was a hum in response. "Every time I see you, I can feel myself getting closer and closer. You derange my thoughts, sweetheart. You corrupt them.
How am I supposed to be around you if I want to fuck you every time you say my name? And what makes it so much more impossible is that you don't even mean to make me feel this way; you just do. God, you're maddening. So sweet and maddening," he cooed, fingers picking up in pace which caused you to melt back into his chest and let out a pretty little moan. "Drives me crazy."
"And to think," you managed, "I thought you had your hands between my legs because you hated me."
Your hips were rolling lightly along with the rhythm of his fingers.
At the very same time Finnick's thighs tensed around your hips from the friction against his cock, he abruptly plunged two fingers inside you. Punishment.
The moan you let out was positively filthy.
"Such an attitude you have," he said. "Anyone would think you're completely innocent in a dress like this. But I know better than that." His fingers slid in and out, curling every time the base of his fingers bottomed out inside of you. "I know exactly why you wore it. Just like I know exactly why you wore those lace panties you pretend that I can't see whenever you bend over."
Heat crept up into your cheeks from hearing his words. You wanted to provoke him by saying 'And look where it got me'but who knew how his fingers would respond to your attitude.
"You can't do that to a man," he continued. "It's criminal."
"It's only fair, Finn," you breathed out, struggling to keep your voice level. "You ruined me."
A deep moan rumbled in his chest, though it never escaped. He couldn't break that easily. He needed to remain in control. This moment, to him, seemed like an eternity forthcoming. He needed to make the most of this moment with you, needed to show you what it was like to receive earth-shattering pleasure so that you only ever wanted to receive it from him. No one else.
Despite his obvious attempts at keeping himself in check, you could still feel his thick impatient cock twitch beneath your ass. Even through the layers of clothing between you, you could tell that he was incredibly big. So much so that it worried you a little. Only, when his fingers curled again, you forgot all about it.
The pads of his fingertips buried into your inner walls with every curl. The heel of his palm struck your clit with every thrust of his fingers and you could feel your stomach start tightening. Fuck, he was amazing at this.
It had been so long since someone had touched you like this. Well, someone that was actually good at it. Just a few minutes and Finnick was already about to make you come.
"Feels so good, so—ah—good!" you moaned, eyes fluttering shut.
He reached a free hand up to your breast, lightly pinching your nipple between his fingers until you let out a gasp. At least one of you was good at multitasking.
"You gonna come?" he asked, not that he even needed an answer. He could feel the way your walls were contracting around his fingers, feel the sticky warmth of your slick leaking onto his knuckles.
You nodded fervently.
"Say please first."
"Finn," you whined in frustration.
You could hear him chuckle self-satisfyingly behind you. "Come on, baby. Sweet girls are supposed to have manners, aren't they?"
His low, husky voice almost threw you over the edge. Oh, how you would love to listen to the sound of him talking you through your orgasm. That is if he ever even let you get to that point.
Never had you ever thought you would be pleading with a man for anything, yet here you were. Though, Finnick Odair could hardly be called a man. He was so much more than that; he was bordering on divinity. And you weren't going to miss the chance of being unravelled at the hands of a divine being.
"Please, Finnick," you begged, your body literally buzzing with desperation. "Please make me come."
He pressed a kiss below your earlobe. "Since you asked so nicely."
His fingers picked up in pace. They weren't even plunging in and out anymore but were rather curling, over and over again in that electrifying spot inside you. He went hard and fast, working to bring you to your high as quickly as possible. Your moans were so unrestrained, so breathless and shallow that you started to feel the world spin around you.
Your hand flew back to hold onto his arm, nails digging into the hard muscles of his bicep. Your hips were writhing in Finnick's lap and you could hear him groan out a string of curses. He held you down by the hip to try and keep you still, then moved across to the bottom of your abdomen where he pressed down.
That is what did it for you.
You cried out as tightness spread down your stomach and pure ecstasy took control. Finnick murmured words of praise and reassurance as you rode through your high, though a lot of it didn't register in your mind. You heard only a few bits and pieces which were enough to prolong the feeling that was overwhelming your entire body.
"Taking it so well."
"That's it, sweetheart. That's it."
"Such a good girl."
As the waves of pleasure slowly began to subside, you returned to reality. The heat that had been building up inside you started melting away, leaving you in a state of relaxation. Your fingers, which previously clung onto Finnick's arm, now grazed absentmindedly across his skin. It felt like you had been sucked into a dream—a little hazy and surreal, but incredibly tranquil.
"You okay?" Finnick asked softly.
You hadn't even noticed that his fingers had left your body. He had pulled down the hem of your dress— not that your dignity really needed saving anymore—and was holding your melted figure in his arms.
"Mm," you hummed contently, eyes fixed on the view in front of you. "Warmed up."
If only you were able to see his face, his smile. Those dimples. A powerful longing to be able to see every expression known to man morph his facial features washed over you. It was a little ridiculous how attracted to him you were. Nonetheless, you indulged the desire.
You pushed yourself from his lap and pivoted to face him
You were straddling his lap before any ounce of hesitation could hold you back. Finnick circled his arms around your waist, pulling you closer into his chest. He was smiling. He was smiling and it was even more beautiful than any sunset you had ever witnessed. You concluded that you had definitely made the right choice in deciding to face him.
"Hi," you whispered.
He smiled. "Hey, stranger."
He brushed back a few pieces of hair from your face, observing the blown size of your pupils and the sultry colour of your lips. He did that—he could not get over the fact that he did that to you. Finally.
You shrunk away from his gaze, a timid smile on your lips.
Finnick tilted his head slightly. "Shy thing."
You buried your face into the side of his neck, groaning quietly in embarrassment. You could hear the perfect sound of him laughing above you. He stroked the length of your spine, somehow managing to ease the nerves from your body with a simple touch. You left a quick kiss on the warm skin of his neck and rose back up to meet his gaze.
"Feeling better?"
"Much," you replied, sheepishly. Your eyes flickered across Finnick's, hesitated, and then gestured downwards. "But... you're not." His head tilted as though he were confused as to what you were suggesting, so you leaned in closer until your lips ghosted over his. "Still need to take care of you."
A breath of warm air fanned across your face as he chuckled. He shook his head. "It's alright. I can hold off for another time."
And although the prospect of doing this again another time was downright exhilarating, you couldn't ignore the palpable heat still lingering in your lower stomach, throbbing between your thighs. You could only imagine how he must have been feeling—cock throbbing with a need for relief, though ready to deny himself the same amount of pleasure he just gave you.
You suddenly curled a hand around the back of his neck and brought him into a slow kiss. To show him he was allowed to indulge himself. That you wanted him to. You ground your hips down on his lap and felt his lips falter against yours.
You pulled back and echoed your previous words, "It's only fair, Finn."
Time seemed to pause for a moment. Your breath and his mixed with one another in a sort of hot whirlwind of anticipation. Your bodies were still. Finnick's eyes were half-lidded staring at your mouth.
Then came the explosion.
His hands were hastily tugging your sundress over your head; his lips were on yours as he reached down between your bodies to unbutton his pants. It felt like a race against time. Like if you didn't do this now, the chance would never come by again. Hell, his pants hadn't even made it off his legs before he was holding himself in his hand and you were rising to your knees, positioning yourself directly above his length.
Your lips never left his, strenuous as it was, meaning the only gauge you got of how big he was wasn't from seeing it, but from feeling it as you pulled your panties aside, guided his cock to your entrance with one hand, and felt the entire veiny length of him fill you completely as you lowered yourself onto him.
A quiet, synchronised gasp left both your lips as you enveloped him completely in wet velvety warmth. His pelvis was connected with yours and his cock was pressed right up against your cervix. So incredibly deep, you could almost feel him in your stomach.
You stayed like this for a few seconds.
"So big," you gasped against his lips.
His hands were on your back, dragging up and down. "Want to stop?"
"Never."
This was so not what friends did.
He trailed kisses from your mouth, to your jaw, and down to your neck. You were grinding sinuously back and forth, Finnick's hands now on your hips as a guide, feeling his tip bury into the sensitive walls inside you. Your head fell back with a gratified moan as he nipped your neck unforgivingly, only to soothe the spots he marked with the glide of his tongue.
At that moment, the past and future were of no significance. The idea that doing this might ruin your relationship with him afterwards didn't concern you. You didn't bother recollecting a time when you and Finnick were merely friends, nor did you ponder how you even managed to reach this point.
All you could focus on was how fucking perfect his cock felt inside of you.
The cold, which was previously a nuisance, now served as a stimulant to your nipples which were only covered by the thin unpadded material of your lace bra. They were bouncing with every movement you made, the hard peaks rubbing against Finnick's chest and creating a triangle of pleasure between them and the depravity that was happening further below.
He was so hungry in the way he kissed you. His lips were soft, but they moved with heat and determination. His tongue was supple as it pushed against yours, moving masterfully in a way you could only compare to how he swam in the ocean. A conqueror—able to bring you into submission with ease.
You pushed yourself upwards, the muscles in your thighs slightly burning as you did so, and felt his cock glide through you. He inhaled harshly through his nose when his tip almost left your wet heat, and then groaned into your mouth when your hips sunk back down, engulfing him once again.
"Shit," he almost whined as your walls clenched around him. "I fuckinglove you."
You pulled away to look him in the eyes. It was incredibly difficult for you to contemplate his words—his confession—when he was, what, eight or so inches deep inside you?
He didn't look like he regretted saying it. He was simply staring at you with raised brows pinched together in pleasure, awaiting your response as you continued your sequence of rising and sinking to fill yourself up with his cock.
"You love me?" you asked in a laboured breath. He only nodded in response. You sank fully down onto his lap, discontinuing your movements, willing him to prove his so-declared devotion. "Then show me."
He was breathing heavily and watching you through strands of sea-salted hair messily splayed across his forehead. He was so beautiful it actually kind of hurt to look at him. His eyes fell to your mouth during this brief amnesty, a decision prominent in his mind. Then he was rushing forward, crushing his lips to yours and forcing your body to lay back on the mat beneath you.
Finnick somehow managed to remain inside you as he switched your positions—him now above you as your legs were wrapped around his waist. His body pinned you down with a comfortable weight, skin warm and flush against yours.
He was overpowering and dominating, and his thrusts were laced with a sense of appropriation like he was making you his. The slow grinds of his hips were hard yet measured and so breathtakingly deep, and the gentle upwards curve of his cock made sure his tip was prodding against that swollen pleasure-inducing spot every single time.
His kisses were sensual and slow; his tongue slipping languidly into your mouth, swirling and massaging your tongue like it was made of pure silk.
You had told him what to do—now he was showing you. Finnick Odair wasn't fucking you. He was making love to you.
Your hands were on his back, fingertips leaving red marks on the curves of his shoulder blades. You moved up to his hair, scratching your nails softly into his scalp, which earned you a soft moan in your mouth. Even you could feel yourself pulsing around his cock. Everything he did, every sound and action he made, had your body yielding to him.
His hand pulled you up into him by the waist, arching your back off the palm-leaf mat so that he was thrusting more profoundly into that blissful spot inside you. He never sped up his pace. He didn't need to. He was savouring the moment as much as he could, memorising each warm ripple of your walls his cock glided over inside you, every intoxicating moan your soft lips released, the pressure of your warm supple thighs hugging his waist.
He was committing every aspect of you to memory. Inside and out.
Having that knowledge only made the moment so much more pleasurable. Knowing that he wasn't just thinking about you with his cock, but was thinking about you with his heart too.
That feeling started creeping up inside you—the blissful burn of heat pooling in your lower stomach. It made your walls flutter around him. Made you whine and moan uncontrollably into his mouth until you couldn't focus on kissing him anymore and had to pull away.
Your head fell back onto the mat, hair strewn out around you. The sounds coming out of you were pure sin. Desperate, greedy sin.
Finnick chuckled adoringly above you. "Too fucked out, sweetheart?"
He couldn't exactly talk. The second you clenched around him again, he groaned out a curse and you—the parts of your mind that were still relatively comprehensible—were sure you could feel the warmth of pre-cum ooze inside you.
"Finnick," you mewled, and he caressed the baby hairs framing your face. "Feels so good. Should—should've done this sooner."
Through your half-lidded eyes, you watched as he nodded and then descended to your forehead, pressing his lips tenderly against your skin. I know, the gesture said. You felt a rush of affection flood through your body, ultimately accelerating the build-up happening inside you.
You could feel yourself teetering so impossibly close to the brink of your orgasm. The tightness inside you was so hot and overwhelming; it was a struggle for you to keep your eyes from fluttering shut and rolling back, though you willed yourself to keep them open. You had to.
Watching Finnick's face contort with pleasure as he's thrown into his own high from feeling your walls contract around him would probably be the highlight of your entire life.
"So beautiful," he cooed as he thrusted into you. "My sweet girl's gonna come, isn't she? Can feel it."
The words flew out of your mouth. "Come inside me."
"Come inside you?"
You were pretty sure he was mocking you from the devilish curve of his lips and furrow of his brows. But your lust-drunk brain didn't really care.
"Please. Wanna feel you—" Your chest heaved with each breath "—everywhere."
Finnick was so obviously trying to keep himself from giving in before you. But you could see how delirious his eyes were as they stared down at you and you heard how every low, gratified—frustratingly sexy—sound he made betrayed him. He was so close.
"Anything for you, sweetheart," he said, finally.
He managed to unhook your hands from around his back and guided them upwards, holding your wrists together above your head with one hand before he brought his other back to your waist. It was oddly romantic how he held you, given that he was fucking you like life after that night wasn't guaranteed.
And then, without warning, he was pounding into you, bottoming out completely with each thrust.
It was almost animalistic now—how you were both unable to control yourselves anymore. You were writhing beneath him, impulsively fighting against the grip he had on your wrists. And Finnick, well, he was fucking you so hard, you weren't sure if walking home that night would be a possibility.
He was a disaster of pleasured vocals, deep moans, and heavy breaths. You thanked the absolute heavens he was because it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard in your entire life.
When your own moans started to rise in pitch, you knew you were done for. You felt so full. Stretched out to the max. Blinded by the heat that was drowning you. But your eyes managed to remain clear and locked on Finnick's the entire time, just as his were on yours.
With a fleeting glance downward, he once again placed a large hand over your abdomen and pushed down, and your back arched off the ground.
You were gone.
"Oh fuck!"
The heat, white and fiery, had consumed you. Your thighs tensed uncontrollably around Finnick, your body shaking beneath him as your insides pulsed all the way down to your stuffed entrance. White, sticky sweetness covered Finnick's cock as he continued to thrust into you, the wet sounds overpowering the waves cresting on the sands. It felt like fucking heaven.
He let out a moan, broken and breathless, and released the grip he had on your hands. In that short moment, you instantly gripped onto him, feeling his body shudder beneath your hands as his throbbing cock spurted out ropes of warmth deep inside you, the essence of both of you mixing inside your body, making you one.
You pulled him down and crushed your lips to his with a sudden intense urge to be as close to him as you could, if it were even possible to be any closer to him at that point. It felt a little spiritual, the way you practically wanted to merge your body with his. That's what having sex with someone you truly loved was like, you supposed.
The kiss was sloppy and messy, but it never lacked heat or affection. Lacking heat was impossible between you and Finnick.
A lot of time passed before either of you even contemplated pulling away from one another. Finnick was inside you for what must have been a good half hour after you had both finished. It felt close. Deeply intimate. He held you in his arms, his hands mapping out various parts of your body with unhurried measure as you lay beneath him, lazily yet affectionately making out with warm, reddened lips.
There were quiet giggles and heated words whispered between you that would have prompted another session had either of you been graced with the energy.
But it was late. The remnants of the sun had long since disappeared beneath the horizon, dimming the sky to a deep dark blue, the world's only source of illumination being the stars casting their sparkling light on the rippling water.
It was a new moon.
Eventually, you ended up laying over his chest, legs strewn across his as you both faced the ocean. Your head rose and fell with each breath Finnick took and it felt unreal.
You were momentarily worried your infatuation with him had grown too out of hand and you had imagined the whole day, or perhaps, the entire time you had known him. That it was all a figment of your vivid imagination.
Then, his warm hand slid into your own, which was draped across his stomach, and you knew that this, the newfound relationship between you and Finnick, was undeniably and rapturously real.
He slowly lifted them together above your bodies, palms flat against one another. There was a notable size difference between them—his palm was large and calloused with long fingers that squared off at the tips, meanwhile, your own fist could probably fit into his palm.
Your fingers danced delicately together as you both watched from below. He traced the length of your fingers with his fingertips; followed the etches in your palm, and turned your hand to explore the protrusions of your knuckles. There was a certain gentle curiosity in his touch, similar to that of someone who was discovering the act of human connection for the first time.
"I don't know if I can walk home," you whispered.
Finnick lowered your interlocked hands to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles before placing them back on his stomach. "I'll carry you."
"For an entire hour?"
"I'll manage," he said, "I've got muscles."
You scoffed quietly to yourself, smiling. "Ok, big strong man."
"Says the girl who needs to be carried home."
"Well, you are kind of the one to blame for that."
You tilted your head to glance up at him and found exactly what you were expecting to see. He was wearing a proud grin, all apple cheeks and crinkled eyes. It was something you had come to adore, even though sometimes it was out of arrogance.
Your head turned to rest back on his chest. You watched as his thumb caressed slow circles over your knuckle.
"What you said before," you began, "is it true? Do you really... love me?"
The heart beating beneath your ear genuinely sounded like it skipped a beat. You imagined that was a good sign, though your nerves were still a little frayed. What if he had only said it because of the heat of the moment?
A beat went by. "I've been trying to tell you ever since I first wove the mat for you," he confessed, his voice quiet yet holding the weight of the history that made up your friendship.
There it was—the truth laid bare. Despite hearing the words, it didn't really change anything. You suspected deep down you knew the entire time; you were just too self-doubting to accept it. To accept that Finnick Odair, the crown jewel of Panem, had fallen in love with you, an ordinary girl from District Four who just so happened to meet him at a secret beach.
Although, there was a sensation you remember upon first meeting him. That instinct that had told you to stay instead of running away, as any logical human being would do upon being approached by a stranger in the middle of nowhere. That instinct, despite sounding utterly ridiculous, caused you to believe that perhaps it was fate.
Maybe you were destined to meet. Maybe it didn't matter that he was a nationwide celebrity, nor you a simple town girl. Maybe your souls were entwined from the start and, one way or another, you would have met anyway.
Maybe.
"That's a long time," you said.
He laughed. "Yeah, well, I thought you would've gotten the hint by now."
And you couldn't help but join him. You thought you were the one who was deranged out of their mind. Here Finnick was telling you he had spent an entire year trying to confess his love without you even realising.
"I'm sorry it took me so long."
"It's alright," he said, earnestly. "I'd say it worked out pretty well. I mean, look where your obliviousness got us."
You smiled. Your legs were tangled with Finnick's; his arm was holding you tightly against his bare upper body, and his fingers were lovingly tracing over yours. Yeah, you were pretty grateful for your obliviousness sometimes. A new pair of underwear might have been something to consider, though.
A silence settled between you, comfortable, peaceful. Being in Finnick's embrace almost made you forget entirely about the reality of your existence—the Games, the dominion over Panem, the chaotic environment back home. It was the reason you had set off last year in search of a place away from society.
You had now found that the escape you were looking for wasn't a place or a hidden paradise, but a person. It was Finnick.
"Finn?"
"Yeah?"
The trees and palm leaves danced in the light breeze. Waves lapped on the shore.
You angled your head back to look at Finnick and felt him pull you closer. His expression was a picture of relaxation and contentment. His eyes gazed down at you, glimmering with the reflection of scattered stars in the night sky, just like the sea in front of you.
He seemed to already know what you were going to say. Always the mind reader.
"Say it, sweetheart." The corners of his lips twitched expectantly.
Sweetheart. Oh, how could you have ever felt for him in any other way?
"I love you too."
His face broke into one of the happiest smiles you had ever seen.
...roll credits
#when i tell y'all i went feral for finnick writing this#good lord#wife of all dilfs ✍️#finnick odair#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair smut#finnick odair fluff#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair x fem!reader#finnick odair x y/n#finnick odair x you#thg finnick#the hunger games fanfiction#the hunger games#catching fire#mockingjay#mockingjay part 2#sam claflin#the hunger games fanfic#peeta mellark#katniss everdeen#josh hutcherson
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