finnickfan8

[finnickfan8]

The Last Time

Pairing: Gale Hawthorne x Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Angst? Possibility of part 2

“Gale Hawthorne.” The dim illumination of your porch light highlighted his most distinctive features. His eyes shone darkly in the late night shadows of District 12. “What are you doing here? And at this hour?” Your icy fingers wrapped around his wrist. “Come inside before peacekeepers shoot you. Or you freeze to death. Or both!” You whisper yelled to avoid any attention from the patrols in your area. You pulled your estranged acquaintance into the warmth of your home.

“I came to apologize.” You knew this was coming. It always comes. “Listen, I know I wasn’t quite over Katniss and every time I’d see her with Peeta I’d take it out on you.” That was the reason you’d broke up every time before. Katniss would show him any form of affection and he’d leave you. You loved him too much to let him go. Any time Katniss angered him he’d distance himself from you and push you away.

Even when he’d gotten over Katniss, you couldn’t be together. You knew that. Gale had a family to take care of and he had a life. You weren’t meant to have everything he wanted or needed. The two of you were just different. Gale would never cry or let you help him and you were a helper. The fundamentals of a relationship just weren’t there. He knows that you want to get out of 12, be a star one day, but he can’t support that. It’s not that he doesn’t have faith in you, he just doesn’t gamble.

You sighed. Not just any sigh, the sigh that you let out when your throat burns and your chest tightens from the sadness that taunts you. Gale’s gray eyes burnt from the task of hiding any dark emotions. “Gale.” You tried to keep your composure, hide any affinity for this man, but you couldn’t. Your voice fiercely wavered and a sob breeched your throat. You took a step towards the coal miner. His clothes, although not work garments, had faint stains of soot. His permanently dyed hands reached to brush a few fallen strands from your temples.

“Y/N.” He was even closer now. You could smell remanence of the mines on him. The scent that plagued the Seam. A pungent burnt tobacco esc scent. “I know I hurt you and I just wanted to tell you that I regret it.” Purple bags sat comfortably under his cloudy eyes. His family needed him, but he came here. Here to your warm house. Here to your well-furnished dwelling. He thought he needed to be here more. A singular tear rolled down your cheek.

“Gale,” Your thoughts were racing around your plagued mind. “I want to try again.” Your heart dropped as the last word graced your lips. You had missed Gale more than you’d expected. You felt like it was only you and him in this world, but to you that was okay. He was all you wanted. All you needed.

“Y/N.” His expression was stern but his voice was riddled with pity. “Y/N,” He took your toasty hands in to his colder ones. “You know we can’t be together.” One. Two. Three. Tears started to flow down your cheeks. His words shattered the dam that kept your emotions from spewing out. More tears. The droplets just kept coming.

“But Gale.” You knew he was right. You couldn’t be with him but you wanted to. “We can work it out I promise. I make enough money for us. We could move away from here.” Gale shook his head. His worn hands pulled you in to his chest. You dug your head out of his chest. “We could get out of here.”

“No Y/N.”

“Yes Gale.” You pulled out of his embrace and put your hands on his broad shoulders. “I have connections in the Capitol. We could move there. We could start a new life. We could do it Gale!” Gale sighed. Tears now welled in his eyes. It was Gale’s turn to cry.

“No Baby.” He hugged you like it was the last time. “I’m no good for you. All I do is hurt you.” He placed a kiss on your forehead. “Maybe in another world or universe where I have my shit together.” He holds your face in his hands. “But I have to go. I can’t hurt you anymore. This is the last time I come back to your door like this.” You couldn’t bear it. His hand traveled to the door knob. The cool metal collided with his hand.

“But I love you!”

“And I love you.” The door knob turned slightly. “That’s why I have to do this.” In the blink of an eye and with a gust of winter air, he was gone. You ran out in to the snow in your thin nightgown. Your eyes frantically searched for his tall figure. Gone.

[finnickfan8]

About me: Multifandom, 18, She/Her, I’m in love with The Hunger Games right now though.

Rules: please do not copy any of my stories or use AI on them.

Requests: Open, I’ll write just about anything

Master lists: The Hunger Games

[finnickfan8]

Sad Girl

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort (I love these)

Warnings: Suicide attempt, Cannon Typical Violence, alcohol use

You clutched the purple berries in one shaky hand. It was just you and Finnick. You and your best friend, Finnick. Your thoughts were fixated on the memory of the two of you on your happiest day.

The two of you had just bought some treats from the local bakery. The day before the reaping was your annual beach picnic with Finnick. The two of you would save up on allowance and lunch money for months to afford the finest delicacies that District 4 had to offer. With your assortment of meats, baked goods, and sweets, the two of you would walk hand and hand to the salty shores of Panem.

“To the 65th Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor.” Finnick toasted with a chocolate chip cookie. He was mocking your escort. Both of you dug in, leaving nothing but crumbs as evidence of your feast. Finnick being a fourteen year old boy had eaten most of it but you were satiated so it never perturbed you much.

“If I ever got chosen for the games, I’d definitely win by playing dumb.” You proclaimed. Finnick laughed at your antics. You knew the severity of the Hunger Games but never really felt that you would be the one picked.

“Well, I think they’d take one good look at my dashing face and declare me the winner.” You grinned at his cocky statement. He wasn’t wrong, he was probably the most handsome boy in Panem. If not, the world. “And of course when I would win, you’d be at my side throughout my Victory Tour. Together forever?”

“Together forever.” You repeated, leaning your head on his muscular shoulder.

“Even after death?” He held out his pinky for your signature pinky promise.

You locked your pinky with his outstretched one. “Even after death.” You never broke a pinky promise.

Now here you were, about to leave your childhood crush so he could live in luxury for the rest of his many days. You wouldn’t really be breaking your promise because you would be with him just not physically, you thought.

You took a deep breath. You felt your breath skid over the surface of your anxiety. Resulting in a shaky breath to slip past your quivering lips. Your now quaking hand raised the Nightlock to your trepidatious lips. You set an image of Finnick in your hazy mind to remember why you’re doing this.

Before the purple fruit could pass the wall of your lips a tanned hand slapped them away. You opened your eyes to stand face to face with Finnick Odair. The way his sea green eyes locked with yours was evocative of home and your life before.

“You tried to break our promise?” A deluge of melancholy tainted his typically mellifluous voice. Tears moistened your despondent eyes. You wrapped your arms around him as if he was your last hope. It was just you and him in the arena, just as it felt to be only you two in the world at that moment.

“I need you to win.” The river of tears broke the barricades of your face in a violent crestfallen storm. “I’d die a million agonizing deaths for you.” Finnick cupped your cheek with one hand. He pressed his velveteen lips to your dehydrated ones.

The alarms signifying a winner blared at the two of you. What you hadn’t known was that the Capitol audience had threatened to refuse viewing the next games if their favorites died. Snow eventually gave in to their effervescent demands.

Now you were on your 5th yearly victory tour with Finnick. You had found sollis in pretending to be sick so you could sneak away to drink and smoke. Your relationship with Finnick had prospered since the games and you were more in love than ever with the coastal boy. That didn’t mean the trauma didn’t stab itself in to your mind, carefully weaving itself in to your every thought.

You were now cradling your vodka bottle, sipping as if it was water from an oasis in a sweltering desert. You knew Finnick had been through more than you in the past three years and he wasn’t drinking. You were supposed to be his rock but you were more of a mess than your beloved.

Finnick was birdwatching with Mags, something Mags loved. Mags would point out different birds and have Finnick name them. When she was still able to speak, she’d taught Finnick the names of the birds. The memory of the names now eludes her. Mags gestures towards the direction you shuffled towards after feigning illness.

“Don’t worry, i’ll go check on her.” Finnick patted Mags reassuringly on the back. Mags just nodded in response. Showing that she approved of his actions. Mags cared for you in every way she could. One of those ways was Finnick.

He got up from the cushioned windowsill that he was sat upon. His shoes moved silently against the carpet floor that covered the train. His fingers traced the mahogany doorframe before twisting the metal doorknob.

When he entered the room, your face dropped. All you could do was hide the bottle behind you like a child who just got caught disobeying their parent. You knew he’d see your partially emptied bottle of vodka and your chest dropped in despair. You were to be there for him and here you were; drunk out of your mind.

“Honey,” he stepped in to the dim lamplight of the bedroom. “what are you doing?” You saw how disappointed he was with you and it was like his eyes had pierced your chest. His words drug the knife down, splitting you open. While your own guilt gutted you from the inside out.

“I’m” was all you could manage to spit out before crying in shame. “I’m sorry.” He took another step towards your vulnerable body. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” You screamed, rocking back and forth. You felt like you were in the games again. You just constantly held Finnick back. You snapped back when your shoulders were grabbed.

“Look at me, Honey.” You followed his order. “I’m going to get you some water and a snack. Once you’re sober, we are going to talk about this. Okay?” You only nodded pathetically at his response. He hurriedly fetched you water and some crackers. He set them down to the left of you before plopping down next to your goodies.

“Kiss.” You demanded in a drunken slur. You puckered your lips at him and leaned in to his side before he deflected your declaration of love. He had turned his head and your lips made contact with his ear. You picked your saggy head up just enough to pout at him.

“I’ll give you a kiss between every time you take a sip of this water.” He shook the bottle at you for emphasis. “And eat this cracker.” You snatched the cracker that he was dangling in front of you out of his hand. Before shoving it in your mouth barbarically. You wash it down with a gulp of water.

“Kiss.” You demanded yet again, but this time it was more agitated. Finnick smirked at you before giving in and pressing his lips to yours for a second. “Seriously? A Peck?” You pouted. In defiance you shoveled the entire pack of crackers in to your mouth, chomping aggressively at them. You then chugged the entire bottle of water. “A real kiss Bitch.” You glared at him menacingly. Or so you thought.

His soft hands collect your face as this time he pulls you in for a real kiss. He didn’t mind that you cussed at him or glared at him. He actually found your attempt at vitriol rather endearing. After many “I love you Finnick”s, several “You’re so pretty”s, and a lot of cuddling, you sobered up.

“Welcome back My Love.” You begrudgingly groaned in response. You had been force fed (lovingly encouraged) water and various foods. You snuggled up against him. “Now, do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

You were numb at this point to your fears. You knew Finnick would protect you. “I can’t deal with the nightmares.” You admit. “The screams of the District 2 girl I stabbed after I called her my ally ring throughout my head. And her blood feels like it’s permanently splattered on my hands no matter how good I wash. She’s there, she’s haunting me.”

“She probably understands, Love. What the Capitol does is vial. They bloviate about their cushy life while we starve. Then we have to fight to death in the arena and die inside to be physically alive? She would know that you had to.” Finnick always eased your usually sullen mood. You wished he’d let you in when he felt like this but he would rather be there for you. You needed him to be there for you even if it made you feel like the weight of the world was with you.

Finnick was your haven. Finnick was your person and you were his. He protected you now just as he did in that arena. His Love, his Baby, his Sugar, his Honey, his Shell, his Y/N. He’d loved you for what felt like forever now and he’d love you always. In every universe you’re his soulmate. If in any universe you’re not, he’s bound and determined to change that.

Finnick gets flashbacks too. Except, the only comfort he needs is to see your shining face when he gets home. He loves his girl.

You love your Finnick

[finnickfan8]

Hey yall! Just like a PSA, some of my titles changed because I do want all of the titles to be song themed(there’s one exception until I find a song that fits). Most of them are Lana or Taylor. I do take requests (pls do request) and right now I’m working on a new Snow x Reader; Finnick Angst; and a Reader x Finnick, Snow, and Peeta Camp Halfblood AU love triangle type deal. Also my favorite writer liked my Coryo masterlist so that’s swag.

[finnickfan8]

Coriolanus Snow Masterlist

Smut:

Million Dollar Man

[finnickfan8]

Million Dollar Man

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

Genre: Arranged marriage AU

Warnings: Coryo is his own warning, manipulation, dark!coryo, toxic!coryo but reader is just as toxic, murder, cussing, smut (it’s lowkey bad)

Maybe being a socialite wasn’t for you. The cacophony of chatter amongst the Capitols aristocracy was earsplitting to you. You preferred to lead a domestic and tranquil life in the privacy of your own home. Your quaint room in your mother’s monstrous palace brought you sanity, but here you were slung around Coriolanus Snow’s petite arm.

To Snow you were his bimbo bride whom he discretely adored despite his calloused facade. In public he’d belittle your intelligence and your build as a way to show his superiority to everyone, even the adoptive daughter of the most revered game maker yet. When he’d degrade you, his eloquence never dropped.

“Isn’t she so sweet?” He started ruffling your hair, “Not a thought in her pretty little head, hanging on my every word.” You were used to it by then and just played up your bimbo role, nodding your head around thoughtlessly. You weren’t Y/N anymore, you were Coriolanus Snow’s show pony. You were to sip your drinks daintily feed into his effervescent delusions.

The topic of the conversation amongst Coryo’s alumni friends was the Hunger Games. You never favored the brutal massacre of teens as a ticket to escape their impoverished lifestyle, but what do you know? You’re just a trophy for Coriolanus’s company to ogle at. That’s when a raven haired girl wearing a red dress immersed you in her colleagues’ conversation.

“What do you think should be implemented in to the games, Y/N?” Coriolanus discretely glared at her, how dare she ask you to waste your precious thoughts on such menial questions? Nonetheless, Coryo brushed his thumb over your knuckles to signal that you were okay to respond.

“Well,” You drew out with a smile and a goofy grin, “I think that we should put stylists for the contestants and have like a fashion show kind of.” You clapped your hands in excitement, playing your role perfectly. The girl, Clemensia you believe, giggled and nodded along with you. You didn’t speak much as you were not permitted to.

The red dress Snow had carefully plucked from your closet adorned your body perfectly. Red was Coriolanus’s signature color, representing the iron fist in which he ruled Panem with. Everywhere you went there were people praising your husband for his various contributions to elevating Panem’s political climate. Your eyes stayed fixed on your partner, observing the way everyone melted in to putty when he spoke. He could use his words to make an entire room hang on his every syllable.

“I’m thinking of adding electric fences to the districts and adding ways for a tribute to have multiple slips of paper with their name on it in the bowl.” The crowd forming around him embraced the idea as a new revolutionary concept.

All of these parties built up the adoration the Capitol felt towards the two of you. Coryo was a bit turgid in his demeanor and was intimidating to talk to, while you were the Capitol’s sweetheart. Hell, all of Panem loved you. You did your best to help the Districts while acting within your bounds as the doting wife.

The night maintained the same cycle that Coryo’s social functions usually followed and the two of you left around eleven o’clock as it was your ‘bed time.’

Coryo had you on a calculated schedule that ensured for optimal health and wellbeing. After all, he couldn’t have his cherished songbird fall ill. On nights like these, you had an hour from when you got home to be in bed and thirty minutes from that to be asleep, ridiculous, but you obliged. Arriving home, you got ready for bed and were ready to head to sleep when you heard a brisk knock at your door. Steadily, you leaped out of bed and sauntered towards the oak door.

“Y/N.” The blonde haired male breathed. “I would like to discuss what occurred tonight.” His tone was stern and admittedly quite frightening, so you stepped aside. He stiffly seated himself on the bench that sat at the foot of your bed. You looked around for a sign of where you were to sit before he patted the bench, indicating that he would like you to sit next to him.

You followed his request, anxiously bouncing your leg. Coryo wasn’t annoyed necessarily when you did that, but he didn’t like when poise was dropped in his presence so he put a hand on your thigh to get you to stop. You look in to his cold blue eyes fearfully. Coriolanus knew you were afraid of him, and he loved it. He lifted you up and sat you horizontally on his lap, a bold form of scarce intimacy.

“You were adequately behaved tonight.” He plainly stated, wrapping his slender yet toned arms around you to keep you still. You were gobsmacked, usually this would be a lecture that ended in some form of punishment. Now his hand was rubbing your back in a soothing manner. “I understand I can be quite capricious, but if we are to be married our fondness should prosper outside of the public view.”

You smiled at his warmer side, “I never thought you’d ask, Coryo.” You knew better than to call him ‘Coriolanus’ when secluded from the public eye. Used to his serious facade; the superfluous vocabulary he spoke with, the brevity he wrote his somewhat elitist writings, everything needing to be meticulously planned and studied, you were surprised in a way at his sudden humanity.

Coryo played with the hem of your satin shorts, humming tenderly. “I want honesty tonight, questions and responses to be traded back and forth.” His usually cold, dead eyes had a spark of light to them. You loved how behind closed doors he’d acknowledge you in a less characterized way, he was just himself. “I’ll start, have you ever been with anyone before me?”

“No, I have not. You were the first person that I have ever dated.” You said it in a matter of fact tone as it was, in your opinion, a senseless question. The two of you started dating at fourteen and fifteen, you didn’t have a chance to like other people. Your response seemed to please him as you suddenly were impaled by his aroused member. Nevertheless, you brushed his curls out of his sculpted face, “When did you first know that I was your person?”

Coriolanus knew his answer right away, but he wasn’t going to say “your mother is a game maker that can get me a huge scholarship and bring wealth to my family.” So he substituted it with: “I guess it was when I saw you with the children on the street, spending your lunch allowance to feed them. That’s when I knew you were to be Panem’s First Lady.”

That wasn’t a total lie, just a fib to keep you eating out of the palm of his hand. The moment he saw you on the ground, dirtying your white dress just to feed some street rat striplings was the moment his infatuation started. He watched you go hungry every day to break bread with kinder that had no connection or way to benefit you. Your soul was too pure for this world.

He set you off of his lap, standing with his back facing you. Your question caused a deluge of non sequitur memories and thoughts to fog his mind. He remembered when he first arranged your marriage with him a few years prior when he convinced your mother to allow that. He remembered you sitting by his side throughout the entire Hunger Games and the fury he felt seeing your reaction to the violence.

He vividly remembers your tear-stained face, your watery eyes bearing in to his soul, all over some district scum dying. You were not to be exposed to such savagery, his angel was too pure. Now here you were, hand on his shoulder to try and bring him back. Coryo’s head turned ninety degrees to pear over his shoulder at your ethereal features. The way you looked at him in trepidation mixed with intrigue turned him on immensely.

“I’m so in love with you, Darling.” Snow’s nimble fingers work to effortlessly unbutton his dress shirt. He never referred to you endearingly if at all. Coriolanus Snow was always busy being the president of Panem, so busy that he neglected his doting spouse. “How could I keep my angel satisfied?” He turned his sleek body to face you.

“Wow.” Was all you could get out. His opened shirt revealed his fair yet evenly toned chest and torso. Your husband chuckled at your dumbfounded reaction. “You’re handsome, Coryo.” You finally managed to choke out.

“My little rose,” godly hands gripped your jaw to pull you in to a kiss. It was soft and slow but felt possessive and you loved it. “Answer me my love.” You knew Coriolanus was obsessed with you, but you were even more intoxicated by him.

“I-” You started as his hands roamed your eager body, but all that came in to your mind is how you would die for him, you would kill for him, you had killed for him. Lucy Gray was just holding him back from his goals and you. So, you slit that greedy bitch’s throat and left her for the covey to find. Anything he’d give you was enough for you. Your devotion towards him made you more impatient, kissing him hungrily. “Touch me.” You finally answered.

“Someone’s a needy little thing aren’t you?” Coryo teased, biting your plump lips softly. Your hypnotized body shudders at the thought of intimacy with the Coriolanus Snow. You nod obediently bringing your perfectly manicured hands down his taught core. “God, I want your pretty little nails to leave marks on my back.”

Coryo’s needy lips made their way down your collar bones, leaving little bruises. Hickey’s were sometimes called ‘love bites,’ but these were more raw and controlled than love. ‘Lust bites’ or ‘power bites’ would be more fitting for the feelings the dark marks he left on your delicate skin. Your body jolted and shook from the contact from his fair lips.

“Coryo, My love!” You moaned as his lips traveled down the peaks and valleys of your ample bust. The adoring names you gave him made him more aroused than he had ever been. The power he felt over you was delicious, addictive, and it consumed his every thought. He kissed his way down your stomach, parting your plush thighs. You tugged on the sleeve of his shirt, signaling you wanted it off.

“My little rose, if you want me to take my shirt off beg for it. Show me how devoted to me you are. Show me how much you need me.” Coriolanus ripped the satin shorts that clung to your waist down to your knees, leaving your exposed core to him. He took a singular lick down your wanton slit while looking at you expectantly.”

“Please Coryo, I want you to take your shirt off. I want to leave scratches down your back and carry your marks on my exposed neck. Please my love!” You moaned the last part as your husband was now lapping at your heat excitedly. He pulled away, eliciting a bratty whine from your lips.

“Then take my shirt off Darling.” Your husband demanded. As he wishes something to be is how it shall be, so you reached your delicate hands towards his buttons. Snow slapped your hand away, “No baby, with your mouth.” He tsked. You put your hands behind your back and got to work, using your teeth to unhook his buttons. Coryo tugged on your hair every so often to make sure that you remembered who was in control.

“Coryo,” You looked up at his as you got the last button undone. “May I?” You reached for his belt as he nodded assertively. You undid his belt gingerly and unzipped his pants. His boxers held a huge bulge that you lightly palmed. Subtle groans dared to spill from his slightly reddened lips

You took his darkened tip in to your hand. Guiding it through the fly of his briefs as if it could break at a single touch. He was sizeable down there. Around six to seven inches and respectable, but not abnormal girth. Although his member was the palest part of his body, it was still one of the best looking.

Your swollen lips invited his tip in to your welcoming mouth. You used a flat tongue to swirl the fat tip. “God Y/N it’s like you were made for this!” He moaned. Your jaw locked in an open position to allow easy passage to your throat. You gulped him down bobbing up and down as a hand came in to your hair, abating the monopoly you had in this situation. You let out small gags each time the tip hit the back of your throat. After a while you let out a bigger, louder, more intense choke signaling a need to pull back.

The head doesn’t cease as now you run your slender tongue along the veins that line his hardened cock. Coryo threw his head back, his curls flinging behind him. “Y/N, Y/N, such a good girl!” Starting at the tip and sucking in inch by inch like a straw, you took him wholly back in to your bruised hole. As you bobbed, you’d occasionally run your wet muscle along the underside of his shaft.

“Fu-uck!” Coryo’s breath grew ragged and his grip on your locks tightened. His hips bucked up towards your face as he finished. He shot ropes of thick cum down your throat. Forcing you to swallow his seed. He pulled his slightly softened cock out of your mouth. A trail of saliva connected your lips to his dick. You panted from exertion and slight asphyxiation.

“Coryo, honey, that was great.” You said, running your fingers over his rigid hip bones. He pulls you in to a heated kiss, lined with lust. His hands ran over your thighs, acting as a wall between your pillowy limbs. The kiss turned in to one with his tongue claiming your mouth as his own, an act you don’t dare defy.

“Hands and knees like the slut you are baby.” The perfunctory task felt like an impossibly intricate one, wanting to look just right for your lover. Your fastidious thoughts were interrupted by your husband rubbing his sensitive tip over your moistened hole. “Ready, Sweetheart?”

“Of course I am, Darling.” With that he pushes his tip in to your tight hole. He coerces a moan out of your sealed lips expertly. His hands find their spot on your doughy hips, squeezing tightly to steady himself as he finds his rhythm.

“You’re so tight Darling, maybe I should do this more often.” His thrusts intensify with every word. He grits his teeth. “Sometimes, I think about bending you over my desk in front of the entirety of Panem and fucking you senseless.” He growled. The thought of him showing everyone how much he cared about you was exhilarating, even if it was a “perverted” lust based expression. He flipped you over so he could see your face as he pounded relentlessly in to you.

“Coryo” You kissed him. “I’d gladly allow you to do that if it would please you, My Love.” Your dedication to him was bewildering to your childhood sweetheart. He knew you were crazy, but not that crazy. This was the kind of loyalty he expected, no, needed from a wife. His hand reached down to rub soft yet tight circles in to your eager clit.

“You’re. Such. A. Lovely. Wife. All. I. Could. Ask. For.” He kissed you in between those words. His thrusts synced also with his words. With the dual stimuli you both neared your edge. His free hand moved to squish your cheeks. Your jaw fell slack. This allowed him to spit in your mouth without spilling a drop. “Swallow.” He demanded.

You obey, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue as evidence. He let out a slew of curses and praises at your action, drawing an orgasm out of both of you. As you both came, Snow collapsed on to of you. He pulled you next to him in a hug.

After you both cleaned up, you had to continue your little question and answer. “How come you decided on intimacy tonight?” You pondered.

His icy clue eyes bore in to your soul. “On top of your astounding lack of ignorance tonight,” A compliment in Coriolanus’s eyes, “I have become aware of your true feelings towards me.” Your expression drops to a pusillanimous frown. What did he know?

“I know you killed Lucy Gray.”

[finnickfan8]

Johanna Mason Masterlist

Imagines:

NSFW Alphabet

[finnickfan8]

Johanna Mason NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Johanna definitely takes turns with you when cleaning up. She’ll drink water with you and take turns freshening up in the bathroom before she pulls you in to her muscular chest.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Her favorite body part of you sexually is definitely your ass. She’s a woman of taste and she likes to bend you over so she can watch your ass jiggle as she slams her strap in to you. Non sexually, probably your eyes because she can always see your true mood through them.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Both of you are afab so there’s no “cum” but she loves to make you squirt when eating you out.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

She doesn’t have any “secrets” per say because y’all are pretty open about sex. She will, however, never admit how much she actually enjoys when she (rarely) lets you dom and/or top her.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Johanna has had a few girlfriends in the past but other than that she’s never done anything besides attempting to mess with Finnick but it got awkward. You’d never know that she wasn’t experienced with the amount of quaking orgasms she’s given you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

With strap: Reverse cowgirl, she likes the way your ass bounces on her and the angle in which she can watch you work yourself to cumming. Johanna loves to watch creases form in your body while you move.

Without: She just likes to have you spread out on her lap with your back against her muscular chest. She then can have access to your full body while also restraining your mobility. She loves the intimacy and the closeness without having to give up control.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

If the two of you have drunk sex or anniversary sex that’s not kinky there’s definitely some goofy moments. Other than that angry/jealous sex will be pretty serious and kinky except for when she laughs out of jealousy.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Johanna is trimmed, but not hairless because being a baby dolphin freaks her out. On you, she doesn’t care if you shave or trim or just let it grow. She’s a woodsman, if she’ll explore the forest, she’ll explore the jungle.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Although sex may be kinky or goofy but it’s always romantic. Johanna does little things to make sure that the intimacy is always prominent to you even if it’s in aftercare.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

She owns a vibrator that matches yours, but she never really uses it. The only time she’ll use it is if you want to watch her use it or if one of you are away for a while. If you’re away for a week or so, she’ll turn on your interviews from the games in order to get the job done.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

F.R.E.A.K. that’s all I can say. Johanna will do just about anything that won’t hurt you too bad. She’s really in to calling you names and teasing you though. She’s good a bondage, spanking, spitting, you name it. She’ll try it all and probably like it.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Johanna gets rather rough so she prefers the bedroom or living room so you don’t have bruises on your back/hips. She will do it just about anywhere though if you make her jealous.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Jealousy. She’s very protective and you’re hot so she thinks that everyone wants you and she’ll remind you of why you chose her. Other than that, if you wear a dress she just goes feral. She doesn’t know why, but if you wear one, you’re getting bent over first.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

She won’t severely hurt you or do anything with bodily fluids that aren’t cum, blood, or spit. She also with women isn’t really in to pet play. If you really wanted she’d do it, other than that the only time she’d do it is if she decided to become a dominatrix and someone paid her.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

She’s a giver through and through. She won’t usually let you give her head, but if she does she is still in control. She usually sits on your face to help remind you of that. Johanna would give you head nonstop if you let her, that girl is a munch.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast or slow, she’s rough. If you happen to do it on tile, your back is out. Thank goodness Johanna is good with wood and tools because she’s broken your bed a few times and left some holes in your wall.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

She’s okay with them when they need to happen. If it makes sense, she’ll do a quick little session to get your behavior in line.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

She’ll try anything anywhere. She does not care if you’re in a bathroom or even in President Snow’s house, she’ll do it. She had to stop from doing stuff with you during the quarter quell and Peeta being there is what stopped her.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

She more wears you out via multiple orgasms so she lasts a while. But if she is the one being pleasured, it better be towards the end because she’s only got 1-2 in her.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

As mentioned, she has a vibrator that she only uses if you want to watch her use it or if it’s a punishment for you. She has a few straps of different lengths and colors that she uses on you. She also has paddles, rope, and vibrators for you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Unfair has gotta be her middle name, because she’ll tease you till no end. Sometimes she’ll tease you so much, that she gets tired and you don’t come that night (part of her kink play). She’s usually pretty forgiving after a bit of begging though.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

She grunts and stuff but most of the noise she makes during sex is her talking you through it. She praises, degrades, and instructs you throughout the whole thing.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Johanna’s strap is black and opaque. Johanna is a simple girl and she likes to keep it that way.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

She has a few different straps, 5.2 inches, 6.3 inches, 7 inches, and 8.1 inches.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

With you around, it’s all she thinks about. Everything you do is a turn on, make dinner, clean, fold clothes, sleep. She can’t explain it, but you’re her vice and she’s not letting go.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

She waits for you to fall asleep on her before drifting off to slumber. She also makes sure that her axe is on her bedside table so she’ll be ready to protect you.

[finnickfan8]

Just little Finnick x Reader imagines

Finnick Odair who every day brings you back a token from work.

Some days he brings a flower that he finds in some rich old prick’s garden. Usually he picks some form of carnation since they last the longest, but if he’s going for symbolism, he goes for “Forget Me Nots.” He uses them as a way to remind you that as long as he lives, he’ll never leave or forget you. Finnick was just the kind of man to bring gifts to let you know he cares. Sometimes he brings you fancy Capitol treats. Finnick will bring fancy pastries, candies, and alcoholic beverages back for you to enjoy with him. He likes to bring back something new for you both to enjoy after eating dinner. The two of you would split whatever it was while cuddling, finding a way to share not only treats, but a bond.

One day he brought home a small box and inside was a glass rose. “What’s this?” you queried.

He simply smiled at you, “Something as eternal as my love for you.” He then lightly pecked you on the cheek to provide some relief for your initial shock.

You inspected the pink translucent rose, “Did you make this yourself?” Finnick nodded proudly, wrapping his toned arms around you, pressing his chest to your back.

Finnick Odair who makes sure that the two of you go on dates at least once a week. Even if you have kids, he’ll leave them with Peeta to give you an opportunity to spend time with him.

Sometimes you’ll dress up and he’ll splurge to take you to a restaurant in the Capitol, where you have press constantly ogling Finnick. Other times he’ll have you stay in so he can cook with you.

Finnick Odair who hand writes you notes and hides them around the house so you can smile at them.

Magically, whenever your day leaves you feeling like you’re about to explode at anyone and anything, you find a new note around the house. Some are written on notepads, while others are on parchment, all sealed with a heart. He usually writes about things he admires about you in the format of a poem. Sometimes he changes the lyrics of songs to fit your name too. Your favorite is when he (poorly) draws images with his notes.

Finnick Odair loves you.

[finnickfan8]

Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x reader

Genre: high school AU, fluff, smut

Summary: Peeta is the same age as Finnick along with the other tributes and they’re all 18 year old seniors in high school! Reader and Peeta have crushes on each other and one thing leads to another.

Warnings: Smut, language

Your dad, Haymich Abernathy, was a victor. This meant that you were one of the richest families in District 12. Your mom, Effie Trinket, was very supportive of everything you wanted to do. This meant that you mention wanting something or wanting to do something and the next week it was done. This was how you had played at least ten different sports throughout the years and had thousands of toys. Your dad, however, was more of a disciplinarian in a sense. He wanted your people skills to be top notch in case you ever were reaped, leading to the compromise of pageants. It was a way where you could show off your talents, your mom could dress you up, and your dad could coach you on speaking.

Your walls were filled with crowns, medals, and trophies. The soft glisten of your triumphs were sometimes blinding, but in a good way. Glitter and rhinestones lined not only your dresses, but also your future.

Your grades were pretty good, they have to be for pageants. Everything you did just screamed pageant girl; you were popular, you were very feminine, and you were adored. Everyone loved who they thought you were, your performance. You had everything, but a boyfriend.

Your best friends were living the life with their cliques and boyfriends. Well, not Johanna, everyone thought the two of you were dating for a while. You didn’t mind, she agreed that y’all would get married if you’re both single at thirty, but for now you had other plans. You had had a crush on the shortest captain of the football team, Peeta Mellark.

Peeta was always at your house, hanging out with your dad, and you always ran your pageant walks for him. Katniss was also over frequently, but less now that she was caught with Gale in the broom closet. Katniss was your friend and she knew you liked Peeta, but that never really got in the way.

Your first period, you sat between Johanna and Annie, but behind Peeta. You slowly tapped the blonde boy on the shoulder, Peeta jumps, turning his head slowly. “Yeah Y/N?” The attractive man smiled, twirling his pencil.

“Dad wants you over for dinner tonight if thats okay with you.” You gently smile at him. You glance at his hand, watching the pencil swirl rhythmically in his burly hands.

“Yeah, of course it’s okay.” The male notices you staring and chuckles internally. “Six still?” You nod, glancing in to his puppy dog eyes. Today he was wearing a white cotton shirt and some brown cargo pants. The shirt was baggy but tight on his arms, making his biceps bulge gloriously. The purity of the white fit him like a puzzle. Although 18, Peeta was less tainted than his peers. Peeta had never had a real kiss, only an on camera one with Katniss in the games. Compared to the desperately promiscuous gremlins at your school, Peeta was an angel; pure, sweet, and radiating light.

You smooth over the hem of your skirt, nervously pleating it back up again before repeating. Although a moderate temperature in your house, you felt cold in your core, your abdominal muscles contracting. The frigidity of the room faded as you flapped your hands up and down to shake the nerves. Tonight you were going to catch Peeta’s attention. You curtly head downstairs, your heels clicking on the hardwood floors, your hair flowing swimmingly behind you as you accumulated some speed in your step.

Peeta had every girl in school fawning over him now that he was rich. Love notes were a daily for the young adult, nevertheless he diffidently declined all of his admirers and vixens. One thing was on his mind; becoming Haymich’s son officially. By that he intended on marrying you. Admittedly, it was a little fast for him to already have images of you in a white dress. Peeta paid no mind to the fact that the two of you weren’t even dating yet, he wanted to make you the happiest girl ever.

This is why his breath stopped at your elegant waltz down the grand staircase in the middle of the Abernathy house. Your eyes traced his figure, his dress shirt and slacks doing it no justice. You had seen what you would call “sporty Peeta” in all of his glory; pads on, jersey raised slightly revealing his glistening abs, tight white snap in football pants, and messy wet hair sticking to his sculpted face. You had much discernment as to what he hid under the button up.

You sat next to Peeta, your perfectly manicured nails pressing against the table to provide mental relief. Your dad signals for you to eat as soon as your well adorned mother joins the three of you. Effie had always been a doting mother and to your dismay, an oversharing one too. This entailed anything from her sharing baby pictures to strangers to inviting random classmates of yours to your pageants.

“Y/N here is participating in the ‘Miss Career’ pageant next week, isn’t she just so talented?” Your mother started the conversation out with an awkward gloat about ‘her precious Y/N.’ Peeta looked you dead in the eye, boring in to your soul before nodding at your enthusiastic mother. “She’s about to make an appearance on the big screen for the next Hunger Games if she wins. As a prize, you get to be the opener for the games.” Effie claps her eager hands.

“Oh I know, Y/N is quite beautiful.” Peeta smirks at you, searching for a reaction on your now thunderstruck face. “She’s also one of the smartest girls in our class.” Your father lets an approving smile grace his lips, nodding at you. “Would you guys mind if Y/N helped me on some assignments after dinner?” a chorus of ‘no’ from your parents rang melodically through his willing ears. The dinner got progressively more lively before coming to a halt via Peeta’s ‘academic drive.’

You lead the older to your room, softly taking his calloused hand in yours. The shine of silver crowns blinded your study buddy’s doe eyes, “Your mom wasn’t kidding.” He mused, taking a seat on your bed. “I guess i’m not the only one who thinks you’re the most beautiful girl in Panem”

You whip your head towards him, “Is that what you tell all your fangirls?” You roll your eyes narked at his roster of women who would be happy with him simply sighing in their direction.

“No, actually.” Peeta motions for you to sit before gently cradling your face. “I tell them that I have a girl I’ve liked for a very long time.” The warmth of his touch was nice on his rough yet weirdly velvet hands.

“Who? Katniss? What you said on T.V. seemed pretty legit.” You leaned closer on the last few words to emphasize them. Your breath warmed his lips, his large lands moved to brush them through your hair.

“What I said, was about you Y/N, or should I say Miss Americana?” That was your latest title that you had just won the week before. Enamored with how Mr. Capitol had found out, you put your clammy hands over his.

“How’d you know?” The weary words cracked past your lips like an impossible feat. A smile greeted you from the blonde athlete’s face.

“I was there.” You haphazardly tosses caution to the wolves, pulling him in to kiss you. His buttery soft lips pressed back against yours, lovingly. “Wow. I never figured the Y/N Abernathy would be the one kissing me.” He teased before pulling you in again. You broke the kiss, much to Peeta’s complaints, to go lock your door.

You continue to lock your lips and let them dance in feverish passion. Your hands roamed over the silk of his freshly pressed charcoal dress shirt. Peeta’s ready hands start to unbutton his own shirt, helping you slide it off of his broad shoulders as you start on your own garment. His taught muscles are hungry for your cherished touch. You slide your now unbuttoned blouse off your body.

Peeta wasted no time before kissing on your neck, nearing your round bosom. “May I?” Peeta never wants to make you uncomfortable, so he insists on affirmative consent. You simply not in response, although you seem just as needy as him, a nod wasn’t enough. “Use your words please Lovely.” His voice isn’t demanding, but it’s firm and strict yet caring.

“Yes, please Peeta. I’ve liked you for so long please I want you to do this.” You pleaded before he finally took your red bra off, your breasts hardening in the crisp air of the room. He slowly trails love bites starting at your neck. ‘Love bites’ was the only way to describe the marks he left. There was no feeling of possessiveness or even lust in them, just a physical expression of how much Peeta loved his woman.

Peeta suckled on your tender nipple softly, making sure to be gentle with his ‘Love.’ You let out a soft breathy moan as his sucking gets a little rougher. “Mm Peeta you’re doing so good.” you praise quietly. Blood flushes to Peeta’s now hard member at the praise.

“I don’t really know how to say this, but can I please eat you out?” Peeta had always wanted to make you feel good and your first time was going to be the best, he’d do whatever it took. You continue to moan at touches to your hips.

“Please Peeta, Please do that.” Your wish is Peeta’s command, he hangs on your every word. He hikes up your skirt, leaving kisses on your now soaked underwear. He basks in the delight of being between your thighs. He pushes your panties aside, taking a long strip up the middle and around the outside. The taste of your arousal was intoxicating, addicting, his new vice.

With a pointed shape, his tongue slowly drags in a zig zag pattern, flicking his tongue to your swollen clit. The skill in his mouth elicits a wanton moan to escape from your puffy lips. His tongue draws patterns and shapes in to your greedy heat.

Your hand flies down to Peeta’s hair, tugging gently. “Oh my goodness, Peeta!” you cry, thank goodness for thick walls. He slowly adds his ring finger in to your soaked hole. You squeeze your thighs gently around him, writhing under his skilled touch.

“Feeling good, Princess?” You moan in response to the nickname. He speeds up his finger in your hole, curling upwards. You nod at his question, earning a stern look from the older. He speeds his finger up, “Words, Lovely.”

“Yes oh my, yes!” You cry, wiggling your hips up at him as he adds a second finger. You wince at the stretch but are okay with it after a second. Peeta leans in to lick your clit, causing a build. Your walls flutter around his thick fingers. He could tell you were close.

“Please Y/N, please let me make you feel good.” He begged. You whined, needing more as you bucked your hips at him. Your edge was near. “Come on Baby, cum on my fingers. You got it, you’re doing so good.” With that you came undone, liquid coating his fingers. You panted and looked at him with half lidded eyes. A large hand rubbed at your thighs lovingly, “Would you like to continue? We can just cuddle and watch something if you would like.”

“No, I need you inside me now please.” You pulled him in for a desperate kiss. You put your hands were on the back of his head/ neck, pulling him in for more. He got the idea and started to undo his belt without breaking the kiss. You both gasped for air as he slid his tip in your slick, swiping it back and forth. He slid his tip in and paused.

He slid in inch by inch until he bottomed out. Before he started to move, he noticed blood run down your thigh. “You��re a virgin?” he held your hand as you nodded. He kissed your forehead tenderly, transferring the warmth of his heart to yours. The pain caused by his huge length and the stretch of your puckered hole. Then he started to move, giving his all to you like you’re giving to him.

His eager hands palmed at your breasts, his girth filling you out in a way like no other. You never knew your first time could feel so euphoric. The Brobdingnagian amount pleasure you felt right in that moment made all of the pain worth it. All of the waiting to have Peeta in this position had paid off. Call you a prognosticator because you knew you could have him twirled around your finger eventually.

Peeta put your legs over his shoulders so he could hit your spot better. His big hands pressed down softly on to your stomach, feeling himself moving within your tight walls. He was besotted with the mesmerizing sensation of you clenching round him, sucking him in subsequently to his ravaging thrusts.

“Peeta” You groaned before pulling him in, syncing the thrusts of his hips with your mouth. You lean up to mark his muscular neck. You left sloppy kisses atop of him. As Peeta starts to get close, he tweaks at your perky nipples. You’re both nearing your edge. “Peeta you make me feel so good!” you scream, clawing at his bare back. He flipped you around, your knees on the expensive comforter, your fleshy ass up so Peeta could see the fullness of your cheeks.

He threw his head back in ecstasy as he thrust up in to your muscly heat. You needed closeness to your lover, you kept your hands behind your back. He took a them and held them, rubbing his thumb over your white knuckles. He left small kisses on your neck, pressing his affection in to you. The intimacy in the acts sent both of you to the edge of your climax.

“Shit babe, close.” He mutters to you. As you cum, he pulls out and cums in to a condom that you didn’t know he had on. Your legs were still quaking when he went to your attached bathroom to go get you a towel.

As Peeta wiped you off, he kissed your inside of your thigh. “You’re.” kiss. “So.” kiss. “Perfect.” Then he placed a kiss on your lips. Peeta had his own room in your house, as did Katniss, because their families usually spent holidays and other events with yours when they weren’t doing so well. Peeta slid his boxers back on and headed to his room, grabbing a shirt and a water out of the mini fridge that Effie constantly restocked. Peeta headed back to your room, giving you the shirt and water.

Peeta searched your drawers to find a sports bra, figuring it would be more comfortable. “I’ll go in to the bathroom so you can change.” He started towards the restroom, pausing at the door fran before turning his head. “Drink some of the water, call me when I can come out, I’ll go get you a snack once you’re done.” You gave Peeta time to wash up before calling him back in.

“I’m not hungry.” You proclaim before remaking your bed and collecting the discarded clothes. Peeta makes you go sit back down, continuing the clean up. You sip on your water, observing. “Would you like to cuddle, or do you want to be left alone?”

You didn’t even think, “Stay, please.” You pat your bed and climb in. You let him put new boxers on before he climbs in next to you. Peeta pulls you in to his chest before handing you the remote so you can pick a movie.

Peeta cranes his neck down to look at you. “Y/N, would you maybe want to be my girlfriend?” Your golden angel boy asked. You shoot your head up to look at him.

“Duh” You responded before pecking him on the cheek and pulling him closer to your now warm body.

“I can’t believe the queen of pageantry herself is my girlfriend.” You roll your eyes playfully at the comment.

“Whatever Mr. Heartbreaker.” You tease back before he kisses you. What a perfect night.

[finnickfan8]

Peeta Mellark

Fluff:

Angst:

Evermore

Smut:

Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince

[finnickfan8]

Evermore

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader

Genre: Fluff/ angst

Warnings: infertility, death and angst

You and your husband, Peeta, had been trying to conceive a baby for years now. Your closest friends Katniss and Annie had all announced pregnancy within the last 3 weeks. Annie had two kids already and Katniss was on her second, it was your turn.

You had been waiting to get your cycle for about 2 weeks now, and nothing. The anxiety with taking a test was immense. If it was positive then you would be happy, but if it wasn’t that would just add to the pile of hurt that your own infertility has caused.

Shuffling to the bathroom, you slowly opened a new box of tests. You positioned your self to take the first one and you did. Capping the test, you chugged some water and waited before taking the second one. After about 30 minutes of pacing back and forth, meticulously shaking your hands in even 8’s (your lucky number), you checked.

Two positive tests. Your hand flew over your mouth in shock. You had done it. You then planned out how to tell Peeta. You decided on going to the market downtown and picking up a few New York strips which you carefully seared to perfection. Candles, roses, romantic gestures galore, today was your big day. The mood for celebration was set and now you waited.

Peeta had had a rough day in The Capitol, dealing with press conferences and the president, Peeta was just grateful for his darling wife. You were Peeta’s entire world and he made sure you knew it. Peeta would do anything for you and would give you everything you wanted, except apparently a baby. That was your one wish and he felt utterly destroyed knowing that he couldn’t give it to you.

Peeta strolled in to his house, looking to be greeted by his lovely wife before sitting down to a simple meal that she prepared. Usually he’d then help her with the chores before they’d cuddle to sleep. Tonight was different.

Peeta walked in and saw his house exquisitely decorated, rose petals paving his every step. “Baby?” he gently called to her, following your trail to the finely lit dining table. The yellow hue of the candles dimly lit the room, but added a sense of warmth and home. You were sitting at the dining table, waiting for the blonde boy to come join you.

“What’s all this for?” Peeta inched closer, taking his usual seat. “Steak? Wine? Did I miss an anniversary?” Concern laced his tone, scared of letting you down.

“No, Baby, I just have a surprise.” You said as you pulled out a box wrapped in shiny orange paper. His large hands took the present from you, staring at his reflection through the shine of the paper. Carefully, his calloused hands work at untying the black satin ribbon, setting it on the table. His fingers work delicately to take the top of the box off. Peeta looks down at the tissue paper, slowly unwrapping it and looking down at the white object.

Tears well in his eyes, “You’re pregnant?” You nod and he practically jumps over the table to hug you, squeezing tightly with joy. “I’m going to be a dad!” Peeta squatted down to reach eye level with your stomach at your seated position. “I can’t wait to meet you, Peeta Jr..”

You cocked a brow at him, “Peeta Jr.?” Your husband nodded frantically. “And what if it’s a girl?” He thought for a moment.

“Peeta Jr. but a girl” he stated confidently. You just shook your head at your silly husband. You motioned for him to go ahead and eat and he obliged. Throughout all of dinner, he discussed what school he wanted your child to go to and how he didn’t want dating until 16, amongst other topics.

Throughout the next few months, you Katniss and Annie all had lunches at least once a week to discuss pregnancy things and the topic of a gender reveal came up.

“Why don’t we just throw one party since we all have the same friends?” Annie offered. You figured you would all have one game corresponding to your theme and a small cake to go with it. At the end of the party you all decided to do your gender reveals in the order of conception.

The day of, Annie and Katniss shared every moment with you, from their themes of “Mermaid or Merman” and “Doe or Deer” to their gender reveal ideas. Annie went first with her reveal, having Finnick stab at boxes with his trident until one went up in pink smoke. The excitement continued with Katniss, her and Gale took turns shooting at balloons with a bow until they found the one with blue confetti.

It was yours and Peeta’s turn. Timidly, you both grabbed the jumbo party popper. One hand each pushed the bottom up until a big ‘pop’ was heard and pink glittering was everywhere.

“We’re having a girl.” Peeta breathed, brushing your hair out of your face. He tenderly placed a firm hand on your stomach before placing his lips to yours.

Pregnancy continued as normal after that. Peeta had decorated the nursery in lots of pastel pinks, blues, and purples. He was probably more excited than you were which made this even harder news to break. You came home to him that day with your head hung low.

“What’s wrong Pretty?” Your husband called. You fell to your knees, not knowing how to tell him. Sobs filled the room as he joined you on the floor. Cupping your face he said, “Tell me what’s wrong Lovely. All this stress isn’t good for the baby.” Peeta rubbed your stomach gently, you grabbed his wrist.

“Peeta,” you whispered, “I lost the baby.”

[finnickfan8]

“Thank you”

Pairing: Finnick Odair x reader

Genre: Hurt/comfort and smut

Warnings: smut, mentions of trafficking (very brief)

Your husband never slept well, so when he did you knew not to interrupt his one sense of peace. You loved hearing his soft snores and little noises as he nuzzled against you. Sometimes he would talk in his sleep babbling on about nothing, that’s how you knew Finnick, your Finnick is in a state of serenity.

His skin was velvet despite the scars and callouses that add a nice contrast in texture to the cashmere of his sun-kissed skin. His ambrosial scent was intoxicating and it filled your nose and then your mind with bliss.

The angelic man began to stir, his breath become more ragged and unsynchronized with your own. Finnick’s once somewhat swarthy knuckles became pale as he clutched the sheets near your waists. His nose twitched and his mouth dropped to let out a little ‘no.’ Finnick was in danger you knew it.

You stroked his messy tufts out of his face and shushed him, hoping to lull him back to sleep. To your avail he tosses over before flailing back in to you. You hold him still and start humming lullabies to him. “Shhhhh Finny, it’s me. It’s Y/N. You’re safe and I’m safe.” He starts to wake up and raises his tear stained face from your chest.

“We gotta go, the Jabber Jays, they have your screams. I’m so sorry.” He cries in to you, clutching your shirt. “I’m supposed to be here for you and here your ‘strong’ husband is, whining in your eyes like a child.” His sobs continue, the emasculation furthering as he cries in to you.

“Shhhhh, Finn, you know that’s not true. I love how you comfort me.” you pull his head up to look at you as tears rush from his sea green orbs. “Now it’s my turn to comfort you. What’s wrong, handsome?” He breaks eye contact and sits up.

“I saw them. The people i’ve killed, the people i’ve been sold to, and you. What I had done to them, the terrible, horrible things, was being done to you.” He pulls you up to sit between his legs, stroking his fingers through it, separating strands. “You were alone in the games, Jabber Jays screaming at you as the tributes took their turns taking a go at you in both ways. I stood there unable to do anything.” He shuddered a bit, braiding your hair to try to calm himself down.

“That would never happen, you have always protected me.” You smiled weakly at the love of your life, trying to reassure him but not knowing how. His hands go from your hair to your thighs, running them up and down.

“You’re always here for me and I want to thank you.” He trailed off, playing with the seams of your shorts. “Only if you want me to, because consent is very important.” He smiles down at you, kissing your forehead.

“You don’t have to use your body to thank me, Finnick. I wouldn’t marry you if all I liked was your body.” You were sure this was something he was taught to do in The Capitol, and you didn’t want him to feel like he had to.

“No, please.” He looked at you with glossy eyes. “I want to thank you this way. What do you say, Love?” You nod happily, knowing he did enjoy making you happy. Before you knew it, you were strewn in the middle of the bed and legs on Finnicks shoulders as his tongue took a lap around the inner edge of your labia.

Long strokes of his tongue went around the edge of your cunt as he avoided your clit, teasing you. A strangled moan escaped you as he flicked his tongue against your clit before going back to making zigzags across your pussy with a flat tongue.

His tongue dips in, slightly, just rimming you. His actions were so painfully teasing. “Please Finnick.” you whined, grabbing a fistful of his hair. Finnick obliged, kissing your clit gently. He started to suck and roll his tongue over the small bud. The way he used his mouth drove you crazy, within minutes, your legs were shaking and you were mewling.

“You look so pretty.” Finnick breathed out before kissing your cunt, looking up as you as he inched his long finger in to you. You moaned his name, feeling the stretch of his finger gliding in to your walls. “You’re doing so well.”

He starts to move his finger inside of you, slowly in and out as his thumb circles your clit. his mouth starts to kiss up to your breasts, taking one in his mouth and gently circling the nipple of the other. His thumb on your delicate nipple, flicked it up and down as he desperately sucked your other breast.

He pulls off with a ‘pop’ and adds another finger. Your cunt clenches around him as his nimble fingers find your spongy G spot. Finnick abuses that spot, hitting it over and over until you’re begging him.

“Please Finnick, it’s so good you’re so good. ” You choke out and he grunts in response. He was so focused on making you cum. He switched which hand was in you and moved the other, slightly lubricated one, to your nipple, toying it up and down.

“You’re so perfect baby, come on show me how good I make you feel.” His mouth lands back on to your clit, sending you over the edge.

You moan out, tugging at Finnick’s bronze locks as he relentlessly shoves his fingers in to you at a seemingly supersonic pace. Your orgasm is long and drawn out. For the first time, you squirt and in to Finnick’s mouth at that. He pulls you in to a quiet kiss, showing his love.

“Such a good girl for me my love. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Finnick begins to go get a towel to while you up with when you pull his wrist.

“Nope, your turn.”

[finnickfan8]

Finnick x Reader

Fluff ☁️:

Pinky Promise

You’re In The Wind, I’m In The Water

Angst 🌧️:

Smut 🌩️:

“Thank you”

Shorts/Imagines:

Just little Finnick Imagines

[finnickfan8]

The Hunger Games

Peeta Mellark

Finnick Odair

Johanna Mason

Haymich Abernathy

Cato Hadley

Katniss Everdeen

Lucy-Gray Baird

Coriolanus Snow

[finnickfan8]

Blue Jeans

Pairing: Finnick x reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Reader is mentally ill so there’s mentions of self harm and suicidal thoughts (if you squint)

Tonight had been particularly rough for you since Finnick had been called to appear at one of Snow’s parties, where women who wanted him were plentiful. There's thoughts that race through your head every time: "What if she's prettier?" "What if she's skinnier?" "What if her body is nicer" "What if she's more stable than me?" and they rip through you like a violent wave ravaging an already sinking ship. You start to shake and cry, trying to calm yourself down. Not even trying to distract yourself with TV is working now. Nothing but him works, he’s your sanctuary.

You feel bad when you talk to your friends about it because they say "Y/N we love you, if he ever leaves you have us." They don't understand. They can't understand how your entire existence depends on his moves. Admittedly, you love them but only his love matters when you’re like this. You know that even if he leaves and you survive the break up, you'll always be stuck in this cycle.

Dark thoughts of what you should do to prove your love and devotion to him start to play in your mind like a graphic horror movie. Your sobs grow louder and louder until you're flailing around the room. Your body bounces from floor to wall to sitting to the floor again, over and over until that door opens.

"Hey Sweetheart" He pauses as his smile drops at the sight before him; the love of his life piles on the floor in shambles, paper shredded up about her, and broken items everywhere. He extends his arm down to caress your back, as you’re clinging to his leg for dear life. "What went on here Honey?" You didn't dare to look back at him, ashamed of being like this. He pulls you up on the couch and lays you on top of him. Tears fall harder when you smell expensive perfume on him.

You didn't ask to be like this and he had to deal with it. This just made you sink deeper, sitting up to hit and scratch your face.

"Baby, breathe. Look at me." Finnick calmly says as he grabs your hands and holds them tightly but tenderly. "I just wanna know what happened, it will be okay"

"You're gonna leave me." You muttered somewhat resentfully as he gives a pain stricken look.

"What makes you think that I would leave the most gorgeous girl in the world?" he runs his thumb over your hands which are marked with the scars of lovers past.

"You're with them and they're probably prettier and better and richer and just-" You sigh in frustration because any girl he could find seems better than you.

"They're people who are willing to pay for what you get for free, they're desperate lowlifes and they're not you." His hands now move to your face, cupping it and running his thumb on to your cheeks. "They aren't the girl that sits and listens to me bitch about anything and everything." He smiles slightly and you giggle a little. "They don't make the best food in all of Panem. They don't 'make' me dress up and match with them. They don't and couldn't do half of what you do for me." he kisses you softly, but you're still unsure.

"Have you ever broken one of our pinky promises?" you trail off wondering if he'll keep the promise you want him to make next.

"I wouldn't say i've broken any, but i haven't fulfilled one." he pulls you into his chest and strokes your hair.

You felt some panic set in. "Which one is that?" You were scared this would be the moment that he leaves and you almost reverted back to your state that you were in 10 minutes ago. You started to slowly scratch at your hands in fear of what he would say.

"No." he holds your hands again. "I promised that I'd marry you, and I just haven't done that yet." He smiles at you and kisses your forehead. Instant relief fills you and you feel a rush of happiness submerge you and you're all joyful again. "There's my smiley girl!" Finnick embraces you tightly, greatful for that mood to be over. "How was your day, Baby?"

"Good! I hate cleaning, but I like doing things for you so it was okay and I cleaned the whole house." You were excited and hoping for his approval which he gladly gives you.

“I’m so proud of you, pretty girl.” He’s letting you continue, listening intently.

You start to blush, but know you should keep talking. "Then I organized your shells by size and color, and I put the wilted petals of the flowers you gave me last week in the box with the rest of the dead flowers.” He nods, it was his idea to have you use the dead flowers in your wedding. “Oh how rude of me, are you hungry?” This was the routine on nights that he was in the Capitol: he comes home; sometimes he comforts you, others you comfort him; you fix him a plate while he takes his Capitol-scented clothes off; then the two of you cuddle.

“No Baby, it’s okay, I’m alright. Are you hungry? Have you eaten today?” Finnick always makes sure that you eat and drink lots of water. You nodded and noticed him fumbling with his buttons, giggling you ask, “Need help pretty boy?” You start to help him take his shirt off, noticing little scratches, bruises, and a hickey. You gag a little at the thought, getting up to go grab your medical kit and a frozen whisk.

You start to clean the cuts, bandaging each one before promptly placing a kiss on each one. “You know you don’t have to do all of this.” Finnick starts trying to massage his neck with the whisk.

“No, but you took care of me now i’ll take care of you.” You grab the back of his neck and pull him in for a more chaste and passionate kiss. “This is what we do, we care for each other.” You finish up with bandaging him up and he pulls you down to lay on his chest.

“Never leave me.” He softly whispers in to the bend of your neck, leaving you shocked. You know that if one of you leaves it will be him, but that’s scary to think about.

“I won’t baby.” you smile down at the perfectly bronzed boy on top of you, the light hitting his naturally highlighted hair in a way that made him seem golden.

He sticks out his pinky, “promise me.”

You stick out yours in return and lock them together, “Promise.”

[finnickfan8]

You’re in the Wind, I’m in the Water

Pairing: Finnick x reader

Genre: Songfic, Under the Chemtrails Over The Country Club by Lana Del Rey

Warnings: none

You hadn't seen Finnick Odair for years as he was tied up with being Mr. Popular at the Capitol, drinking and partying around with the bigwigs and the who's who of Panem. Every year, you had made him a birthday card in case he comes back, you had just made your 6th one and tomorrow it will join the others in the box in hopes that he will come back next year. As you were cleaning up from making the card, you heard a knock on my door. You stood up from your sandalwood chair and creeped across the old creaking floorboards to the captain's style door. The round window on the door had been covered with spare scraps of fabric that you had been too tired to lift up to check who was at the door.

“Of course I am, Idiot! It’s been 6 whole years since I’ve seen you and you’ve been galavanting around with rich snobs and it’s unbearable.” you teared up a little, reverting back to when the two of you were younger, when you had heard Finnicks name get called as the male tribute. You remember how you looked at each other scared and he promised he’d come back for you one day, although you never thought it would be true.

He had felt horrible throughout the years not being there to protect you physically but he definitely was protecting you. “I had things to do to protect you, and that’s why I came to see you now, to protect you again. Pack your things, we have to leave, now.” Finnick had never been a man of secrets, not to you at least. You assumed it wasn’t without reason, and packed what little you had left in your ramshackle “house” and joined him on the walk to the train.

I'm on the run with you, my sweet love

The ride was silent until Finnick leaned over and chuckled, “You still wear the necklace I gave you?”

“Yeah, I do. It helps me when you’re not there for me.” you started to play with the shell around your neck “Why weren’t you there for me? Why didn’t you come back for me?” You both felt a tinge of hurt surge through you.

“I had to stay and let The Capitol sell me off.” He looks down and fiddles with his well-tailored dress shirt, “I had to do it for Snow so you would be safe. I had to do things I’ve never dreamed of in order to save you.” He starts to smile a little bit and it pulls on your heart strings. “But it was all worth it because you’re safe.” You were still trying to reason with why Snow would use Finnick like that, his job is to protect his people, not sell them.

There's nothing wrong contemplating God

You arrive to a small town and keep hiking out to the abandoned shores on the outskirts of District 11. There was a seemingly small cave up ahead that you followed Finnick’s lead to. “Home sweet home” he proclaims as you see this fully decorated cave with his spears and pictures up everywhere along with a small pallet in the corner with off-white pillows and blankets the outside of the cave lead to a pool-like calm in the water.

Together the two of you hopped in to the water outside of your little cave-home, the water smiling up at you as your legs danced to keep you afloat. Finnick took his ring-adorned hands and cupped water over your hair and smoothed his hands over the (H/C) locks before tucking it behind your ears. Finnick then reaches down and grabs the slightly tarnished chain around the shell on your necklace.

“I told you a piece of me would always be with you didn’t I, Pretty Girl?” He put his arm around you and help you tight so you could watch the Capitol’s airplanes paint small ribbons of white in the sky a beautiful yet fearful reminder of their control.

Under the chemtrails over the country club

Wearing our jewels in the swimming pool

The wave of relief and peace you felt was quickly quashed by questions that had been unanswered.

“You know how you went to the Capitol with my sister as your stylist?” Finnick begins to tense up around you and just nods. “She did well, kinda, your makeup was a little sparkly as per my request.” Finnick softly laughs, not wanting to really remember the games, but remembering the sparkly eye makeup that your sister had adorned him with.

Me and my sister just playing it cool

Under the chemtrails over the country club

“I don’t really know if now is a good time because obviously it’s hidden for a reason,” you had started, “but why are we running?” He sighs and cups your face tenderly, while trying to figure out how to tell you this without breaking your little heart.

“Y/N, you know how The Capitol is all mighty when it comes to the Hunger Games?” He begins to stroke your hair while you nod. “In my games there was no trident in the Cornucopia. I was a Career so there was no way that I wasn’t the first to the Cornucopia. Later in my games, a trident was gifted to me.” You didn’t really see where this was going, but he looked so pretty when he was talking so you let him continue. At this point he had let you go and had his arms rested propping him up on the side of the cave. “My games was rigged.” He turns to you. “ALL the games are rigged and you were next.” He finally confesses.

“What do you mean I was next? I was the next one that was to be reaped from District 4?” You had never taken food from the Capitol so you should have only had one slip in. Everyone you knew had 20,30,40 slips in so it made no sense.

“You were to be reaped next and they were going to torture you to get back at me ever since I started to rebel. I stopped going to appointments for people who had booked me because of how wrong it felt to do to you.” His green eyes glinted in the now ever present moonlight. He had done this to save you and you’ve done nothing to repay him. He starts to pull himself out of the water and grabs a towel, wrapping it around his waist. “ready to go to bed sweetheart or do you wanna grab a cup of coffee and talk?” You hastily get out and grab a towel while you wait for him to start a fire for the coffee.

Meet you for coffee at the elementary schools

It feels just like how it felt to talk to him all those years ago you just talked and laughed about little inside jokes. Slowly throughout the night he reminded you of the boy you had fallen in love with all those years ago. He made you feel like nothing else in the world mattered. There might have been so much bad outside and so much good in him. He made everything feel alright again.

We laugh about nothing as the summer gets cool

It's beautiful how this deep normality settles down over me

“You’re probably bored of me talking about the games so much, I know that time must have been hard without me there like I promised to be. I won for you, I won for us.” you shake your head and him and clasp his hand, placing the intertwinement in your lap.

“I could never get bored of you, my love.” You reach up to cup his face as he cups yours, gently kissing you for the first time.

I'm not bored or unhappy, I'm still so strange and wild

“That was amazing, Love. You don’t know how long I’ve waited to be able to do that with you. I want a life with you. A life outside of the mess of a world. A world with just me and you together away from this world. We may have existed in two different worlds before, but together we can be one of our own.”

You're in the wind, I'm in the water

“we have nothing but each other in this world” you pressed your forehead softly against his.

He chuckles “Nobody’s son” you softly pull him in and kiss him. The two of you linger there for a while, feeling each other’s breath as it comes out.

“Nobody’s daughter.” You know that despite both having lost most of your family that you would make one together one day. He was yours and you were his.

“I love you Finnick Odair.”

“I love you more Y/N L/N”

A/N: I took this from my wattpad, it wasn’t being seen much there so i’m hoping for this to get some requests and feedback