#Finnick odair fanfiction

[bruisedboys]

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 🤍

[lucy-gray1075]

finnick odair who braids your hair after a long day at the beach. finnick odair who loves taking showers or baths with you, really anything that involves water and you is heaven to him. finnick odair who wants you to "just sit pretty like the princess you are" while he does all the chores. finnick odair who teaches you how to surf and then carries you home on his back when you get tired. finnick odair who is so protective of you it makes your heart hurt. finnick odair who is a terrible chef but insists on cooking for you anyways because his "pretty princess needs to relax." finnick odair who surprises you with jewelry he made himself from little seashells he collected at the beach. finnick odair who gives you baby fever when he teaches the local children how to fish.

[wonderlandwalker]

After All These Years | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

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

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

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

Word Count: 1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[mcsstydia]

Faking it - Finnick Odair

prompt: you won the hunger games, now snow forces you to sell your body. your mentor, finnick odair, proposes the both of you fake a relationship so the capitol citizens won’t be interested in you anymore.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

Warnings: mentions of forced sexual labor

word count: 2.2k

Masterlist

You won the hunger games. After weeks of fighting to survive, of hiding, of pure fright, of killing children who were not much older than you, you won the games. Now, a lifetime of glory and wealth awaited you, right?

You could have never been more wrong. You could have guessed that there was a flaw to what was promised to you. Sometimes, before and also after the games, your mentor, finnick odair, would look at you with a kind of concealed sadness, as if he knew there was something just as bad as the games would wait for you once you survived.

Finnick was 19, only two years older than you, but you had a feeling sometimes you could see in his eyes he had already endured a lifetime worth of pain. Turns out, your feeling was right about the amount of pain his heart had to carry.

Two months after you've won the games, when you've returned home, on a late Wednesday afternoon, Finnick rang the bell at your new house in the victor village. As you opened the door, you were unexpectedly greeted with the handsome man that was Finnick Odair. You had had a crush on him for forever, and it had only intensified during the time where he was your mentor.

Your stomach began to turn in nervous circles. Why was he here? Did he come to see you? Spend time with you even? Wait, that was not it. You could see it in his face. You were good at reading him.

His gaze rose from where it had been previously fixed on the ground to meet yours. There it was again, that sadness. ''What happened?'', you asked, scared it had to do with your mother, who was out of the house for the evening. ''Your mother is alright.'', Finnick said calmly, as if having read your mind.

You visibly relaxed and exhaled. Nonetheless, your grip around the edge of the door did not loosen. ''Then what it is?'', you asked anxiously, trying to seem collected, composed. But Finnick knew you almost as well as you did him.

''Can I come inside?'', he asked in turn. You nodded silently, your body began buzzing with anxiety. The pleasant turns your stomach initially performed upon seeing Finnick had now turned into unpleasant ones. Finnick headed for your living room and you followed him blindly. He pulled up an armchair and gestured you to take place on the couch. He placed the armchair so it was right in front of the couch. Both of you sat down, and then he gently took both of your hands into his large, warm ones.

This is how bad it was? Normally, you would jump in the air at the touch of his hands on your skin. Now, you could feel the colour draining from your face and the warmth leaving your hands in dread of what was to come.

''Just tell me'', you demanded. You knew he would search for the best way to tell you, to somehow sugar-coat it. Finnick looked at you, and you knew he could see in your eyes that this was what you needed.

''Snow sells the good-looking winners to the citizens of the capitol. At least their body. And now he wants to sell you.'', he said. For a moment, the information had to sink in. Then, you could feel the remaining control you had had over your facial muscles seep away. All expression fell from your face, your eyes made no effort to conceal the tears that came flooding in, and your hands began shaking in the gentle hold Finnick had on them.

His grip around your hands strenghtened, but stayed gentle. ''No…'', you managed to breath out, shaking your head in disbelief. You could feel all the strength leaving your body. Finnick seemed to notice, or he had anticipated it, because he caught your head as it fell toward him, his hands gently cupping the sides of your face. A thought came to your mind about the person you cared most for in this world. In between ragged breaths, you managed to ask ''Did he do it to you?'' The look in his eyes was all you needed to know it was true.

Loud, ugly sobs escaped your lips and you made no effort to hide them. Finnick made no effort to calm you, he knew there was no point in telling you it was all going to be okay. ''I've got you,'', he whispered into single strands of hair, your head still in his hands.

He rocked your body back and forth in an attempt to tell you he was there, and he wouldn't leave. He had begun to do that on the first night after your name was drawn for the games. You had been in the train on your way to the capitol, as he found you on the floor, weeping. He held you the whole night, until you had finally managed to fall asleep. He had rocked you gently, had promised to get you out of the arena alive.

At this point, you had thought he would tell that to every young girl he would mentor. Now, you came to the tentative conclusion that you meant something to him.

Suddenly, he whispered, ''I have a plan,''. The sentence brought you back to reality. His hands never leaving your face, you managed to lift your head just so much as to be able to look in his eyes. His beautiful face was blurred by the tears still in your eyes, and by your already-swollen eyelids. He looked at you with concern, and care, and suddenly you knew you were anything to him but simply another tribute he had to mentor.

You realised you were more than important to him. His next sentences only proved how much you meant to him. ''I won't let him do that to you,'', he began, wiping away one of your tears with his thumb. You could also see fear in his eyes, but it was fear for your wellbeing, for your life.

''It's risky,'', he continued and breathed in. ''But I would risk it, for you.'', a deeper meaning of his words hung in the air, but it was not important now. ''If we fake to be in a relationship, Snow can't sell you. The capitol citizens would then never want to tear us apart.'', he explained. His word registered in your head, and the word fake sent a painful, but quickly fading, stab into your chest.

''Would they believe it?'', you asked. Finnick allowed himself to smile, and his fingers carressed your cheeks. You thought you could read him well, but you weren't so sure now. His expression screamed 'of course they'll believe us, look at how in love I am with you', but he couldn't really think that. He couldn't. You would know if he had feelings for you, and you were sure he did not.

Something brought him back from his thoughts into the situation. So he said, ''I hope they do. That's why I said it's risky. If they do not believe it, if Snow does not believe it, we would be in a lot of trouble.'' You pressed your lips together, and then nodded. ''Why would you do that for me?'', you asked, and then imeediately wanted to take the question back.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. ''Because I care about you.'', he whispered, holding your gaze. ''Once we do this,'', he continued. ''there's no going back. It will be us against the world, probably until we die. Do you realize that?'', he asked.

For once, you hoped he could not read your face, or your thoughts for that matter. Did you realize that? Yes. Was it scary? Of course. But was it scary because that meant you had to spend the rest of your life with him? No. That was the only part of this whole thing that sounded like heaven. Instead of telling him any of this, you nodded as an answer.

The next weeks Finnick and you prepared your 'relationship'. You got to know each other better, to make it seem as realistic as possible that you were in love. Many nights were spent like this, quietly, so as even your mother would not know. Many nights ended with your head in his lap, with his fingers running through your hair. Many nights, in which the both of you fell asleep on your couch, or in his bed, all the while holding on to each other.

When your victory tour began, while visiting the districts, you made apparent that you were a couple. Word quickly got out about the new power couple of victors. On the nights on the train, Finnick often lay next to you, to hold you through your cries. It was agonizing to visit the districts of the children who died in the games you were a part of.

Your new relationship was so important to the capitol citizens, that, once in the capitol, both finnick and you were invited to Ceasar Flickerman's show. So you sat there, with Finnick next you, his hand in yours. You had gotten used to the pleasant feeling that was ilicited whenever he touched you. You had gotten used to having him near, so it was not hard to appear happy next to him. It had never been, though.

The people loved you. Everyone adored the two of you together. So much so, that president Snow let go of forcing you into selling your body to the citizens of the capitol. For now.

For now, you were on your way back home from the capitol to district 4. For now, there was the slight hope that things would stay that way, and it was all thanks to Finnick. On this first night on your way back home, you hadn't asked Finnick to come into your room. He had spent the night next to you for the whole of the victory tour, calming you down, holding you when you cried.

But now? You thought Finnick was tired of taking care of you every night. You thought Finnick deserved a night to himself. After all, he wouldn't get many of those anymore that you were in a 'relationship' with him. So you lay there, on your bed, your hands neatly folded on your stomach, your thoughts almost as loud as the train on the tracks. When the doors to your compartment opened, you sat up in your bed, startled and scared. It was only when you saw that it was Finnick who entered, that you relaxed again. Somewhy, you stood up from your bed out of reflex. Finnick looked agitated, and for a moment you feared he brought bad news again. His mouth stood slightly agape, he was breathing heavily, and his eyes frantically scanned your body.

''I don't want to sleep without you,'', he suddenly blurted out. Shock was an understatement. You couldn't help yourself. ''What?'', you brought out as an answer.

The usually calm, confident Finnick he could so easily present himself as for the cameras was nowhere to be seen. He seemed scared, agitated, and lost all at once. ''I-..'', he began tentatively, and took a step toward you.

''I don't want to sleep without you. I don't want to, and I can't, for that matter, when you are not next to me, when I don't know you're safe, when I cannot feel your body next to mine.'' Although he obviusly tried to explain himself, you were no smarter than before.

Finnick could see that you were not sure what he was trying to tell you. He took a few steps until he stood directly in front of you. He took your face into his hands. ''This,'', he continued, gesturing to the two of you. ''It was never fake to me. I never wanted it to be fake. I love you. I have loved you for a long, long time, and I plan on doing it for the rest of my life.'', finally, he seemed to exhale of what seemed to have been a breath he had held for a long time.

Tears began pooling in your eyes. And for the first time in a long time, they were tears of happiness. ''Oh Finnick Odair, are you really so blind as to think I ever wanted it to be fake? I am madly in love with you.'', you finally confessed, and a grin so wide he had never managed to fake for the cameras spread across his lips.

''And now, kiss me, please,'', to any other person, this would have sounded like begging. But it was Finnick, and it was you, and you were both so madly in love nothing else mattered.

So Finnick did what you asked him to do. Slowly, he leaned down, and let his lips brush against yours. After that, it was instant. You both were so hungry for each other, so desperate to finally be able to touch each other in a way you had only dreamed of.

Hands were tangled in hair, and roamed the body of the other. Your lips and teeth clashed against one another, but the kissing erupted feelings in your stomach, and heart, and the whole body, really, that you had never thought could exist. When you broke apart, the both of you giggled, caressed each other's skin, and placed delicate kisses here and there.

That night, you fell asleep in each other's arms again, kissing, holding each other. For the first time in a long time, you weren't scared of the future, because you knew either way, you would spend it with Finnick.

[sincere1ystar]

♡ boyfriend! Finnick helps you dry and brush your hair after you’re exhausted after taking your everything shower

♡ boyfriend! Finnick switches shoes with you if you’re uncomfortable after walking in heels for so long, even if he does look a little ridiculous waking in heels

♡ boyfriend! Finnick would make sure to include all your favorite stops on road trips

♡boyfriend! Finnick would definitely be your own little personal photographer and doesn’t mind snapping dozens and dozens of photos just to get the perfect one for you

♡boyfriend! Finnick wouldn’t mind acting stupid and making a fool of himself in front of others just to hear your laugh

♡boyfriend! Finnick learns how to cook your comfort foods if he didn’t already doesn’t know how to

♡boyfriend! Finnick isn’t the type to be into flashy things since he truly loves you for you, but if wearing fancy clothes or fancy jewelry made you feel more confident he definitely wouldn’t mind

[dixonsbrat]

finnick has trouble coming to terms with the fact that you could ever love him. after everything he’s done, guided by the powers of another, left him feeling shameful. uneasy in his own body.

but you love him, regardless.

you comfort him, remind him that he is worthy of so much but mostly love. that the things he had done were not on his conscious. he was but a pawn in someone else’s game of chess. he deserved to be loved more than anyone. deserved to know what it felt like to be loved and not just sought after. he deserved to be in the arms of another without feeling regret. and nobody made him feel quite himself as you did ᰔ

[maggiecc]

When the World Shifts (Finnick O'dair x reader)

Finnick O’Dair x reader

TW: It's about the Hunger Games, so murder, talks of death, Annie has panic attacks

This first part does not use Y/N, for the next part should I include it, or continue to disclude it?

No Betas, we die like Vikings.

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4:TBD

“On the third quarter quill game, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each district.” Snow continued his speech, but you stopped being able to hear it, his words turning into static.

“No, No, No” You hear Annie mumble. You turn to look at her as she starts to shake, and her mumbles turn to screams. She had covered her ears with her hands and squeezed her eyes shut “NO, NO, NO!”

You wrap her up into your arms, stroking her hair, whispering words of comfort all while you felt the same. You too wanted to scream but screaming would do you no good and you knew this. You cannot afford to fall apart, not now, not with Annie here. The announcement of the quarter quell, that the 75th Hunger Games would be made up of victors meant your safety from the games was gone. You didn’t want to believe it, that it was possible, but Annie’s tears were enough proof for you to believe it.

Before you could think about reentering the games, you both jumped at the sound of a door slamming shut and footsteps running toward the room you sat in. You knew who it was, you wanted to get up and run to him, but you knew you could not let go of Annie. She clung to you as if you were her lifeline, and perhaps you were for the moment grounding her to remind her where she is something she cannot always tell. As the steps got closer you tried to think of what you should do, or say but there was nothing. The sound of the door being ripped open caused Annie to jump getting ready to fight an instinct all the tributes held. The other 2 victors of District 4 had entered. You turn to try and grab Annie but before you can grab her someone else beats you to it. Mags had her in her arms and started to sink to the ground with her as her cries continued. Finally being able to pull your focus from Annie you turn to look at the man who had yet to leave the entryway.

“Finnick,” you whispered the tears finally starting to fall “Oh Finnick.” You ran to him as he opened his arms to grab you. As you reach him you wrap your arms around him, and he mirrored you, one arm around your waist and one holding the back of your head, lacing his fingers through your hair. Your head was pressed to his chest and you could hear his heart racing, it was the only thing you could hear, even drowning out Annie who now was just whimpering in Mags’s arm. Your tears began to soak his shirt but neither of you cared about that. You did not know what to do, or what to say, so you just let yourself be held and pretend for a moment everything will be okay.

The night of the announcement was a whirlwind, the District 4 tributes all stayed together, few words were spoken that night, but many tears were spilled. You all held each other, only leaving to make tea, or grab tissues. The next morning when you awoke you noticed you were short a person, Annie and Mags rested together but Finnick was gone. You felt your breath quicken as you ran out of the room.

“Finnick? Finnick?” You tried to keep your voice low, you knew if you woke Annie and she heard you calling for Finnick she would panic again.

As you turned the corner you heard a response called from the kitchen “In here love.” 

“Finnick you can’t just leave like that!” You scold him, voicing raising by accident. You take a moment to close your eyes and breathe, knowing you need to remain calm in the coming days, working yourself up would not help. “When I didn’t see you, I got nervous I, I”

“I’m sorry darling, I wanted to get the food ready before everyone awoke so we could eat it again you all wouldn’t have to worry” He explained. 

You let out a soft sign, “ Alright well I’ll help you finish to make it go faster. Annie and Mags will be up soon.” 

The two of you start to move around the kitchen together, moving in tandem to finish the breakfast he had started. It was simple food, only toast, and eggs, all of you so sick to the stomach over the news you would not be able to eat anything else. As Finnick worked on the eggs you put the toast in and started to boil water for tea.

You turn to look at Finnick trying to gather your thoughts “Finnick we need to start”

“Not now,” He cut you off “Let's eat breakfast first and wait until Mags can speak with us too.” 

You silently nod, noticing his purposeful exclusion of Annie, and although you knew why it still hurt to think about. Annie had been doing so much better before the news broke, and thinking about how she was reduced to her state right after her games hurt you. She was like a sister to you, and seeing all her progress dissipate was almost as bad as the news itself.

You both simply look at each other for a moment, both thinking the same thing but neither of you speaking it. The silence is broken by the kettle’s whistle, both breaking your eye contact to return to your kitchen task.

Eventually, you both gather the food and drinks onto a tray and carry it back into the room with Annie and Mags. You place the tray down on the table and go towards the duo. You first wake Mags, giving her a light tap which wakes her instantly. She never fully sleeps anymore always being ready to jump awake at any noise or movement. She looks at you and her eyes soften, expressing all she needs to say. Next was the more difficult one, you put Annie’s head in your lap and start to hum as you stroke her hair, slowly getting louder and louder. Eventually, she jumps awake instantly screaming squeezing her eyes shut.

“Annie, Annie, it's me” You plead to her

“No, no no!”

“Annie please open your eyes, it’s me, it's us.” You continue and eventually, she opens her eyes and sees you. She stops trying to break out of your arms, but her shaking does not stop completely. You then get her to sit up, keeping her between Mags and you and Finnick puts the plates down in front of all of you. 

The silence continues as you all eat the food. It's difficult to swallow the food, every bite feeling like it is going to come back up, but you know now is not the time to starve yourself, not with the games looming overhead. Once you were all finished eating, you started to pile the plates but before you could bring them to the kitchen Mags took them from you to walk them back.

“I can,” you try to stop her, but she shakes her head to you. As Mags leaves you stand and then help Annie up. She was clearly still tired and although you have all been together, you don’t blame her, she had been tense the entire night. You bring her to the couch in the room and hold her hand until she falls back asleep. Once she was done you slipped your hand away from hers and let out a soft sign.

“We have to talk about this,” You tell Finnick, now that Annie is asleep you know you can no longer avoid speaking about the games.

“I know,” he replied, feeling the same weight as you. Mags then walks back into the room, and you all look at each other.

“What, what, what do we do?” You ask, looking at the other victors, unsure of where even to begin.

“We need to figure out who is going in.” Finnick responds “I am the only male victor, but the three of you have an equal chance of getting chosen.”

“We can’t let Annie go back in, she wouldn’t be able to handle it” you begin to explain “And Mags, no offense, but you cannot go back in there. You look so young for 80 but the other victors could be in their prime”

“No, you can’t” Finnick tried to argue but you cut him off.

“Finnick one of us has too, and I am the only one who stands a chance, you else? Annie can’t and I won’t let Mags.” He begins to open his mouth to argue but you don’t even give him the chance. “Finnick, please don’t argue with me on this, I won’t change my mind. Annie will need someone with her here, and I am the most capable in the arena.”

Finnick looked at you, battling with you without words until he eventually lost. 

“Fine, but we stay together and you cannot put yourself in any unnecessary danger”

“Okay, and the same goes for you, we get out of this together.” You put your pinky out.

“Together” He responds, wrapping his pinky with yours.

[your-averagewriter]

“I will always wait for you."

Summary: (y/n) is rushed into the hospital of District 13 after being rescued from the Capitol. After a lot of distress, Finnick and (y/n) reunite. (Finnick Odair x fem!reader)

Word count: 1.2K

Warnings: violence, talk of trauma, injury, kissing

-

-

I feel my head lull backwards, I don’t even have the strength to look up properly but even so, my head feels abnormally heavy. The hospital cloth scratches against my burnt skin but the feeling is still better than that of the sodden outfits I remember only too well. The sounds of machines, beeping and beeping in my ears irritate me to no end, mimicking the sounds of the sirens and alarms before the imminent terror of the cells. Blinking my eyes shut and clasping my hands over my ears I try to stop myself from thinking but all I can hear is Snow’s smug voice through the speaker and I can see his smirk with it. 

I open my eyes again to see a bland corridor, nothing but grey walls but I can hear the incessant beeping and doctors yelling. Others in hospital beds and gowns rush down the hallway and I notice a few familiar face. I can’t think of who they are, I recognise their faces but where from I don’t know, I stop thinking about it as my head starts to hurt even more.

I try to sit up but somebody pushes me back down and I don’t have the strength to protest. There are shouts to up my dose and I try to protest but all that comes out are incomprehensible slurs. I quickly feel the effect as my eyes roll back and I suddenly feel tired, even more so than usual. 

The bed isn’t soft but it’s certainly an improvement on the prison beds which makes it even easier to just fall asleep. Feeling my eyelids droop I let them, in desperate need of some rest and sleep. 

Only moments later I feel myself gain consciousness and I immediately sit upright, this time not stopped by an attendant. Sadly, the constant noise hasn’t stopped, machines, people, everything and everyone is making a noise it seems and my hands fly to my ears in desperate need of relief from the sounds. My eyes are hot and I can feel tears stinging at my eyes begging to be released. My fingernails dig into my scalp as I grip my ears, desperately trying to block out the noises but it’s all in vain because as soon as I block out surrounding noise I can hear Snow in my head again, taunting me. At any moment he could take me back and torture me, he could kill me and my family - he might have already. His threats in my ear only provoke more tears but I’m quickly attended to by strangers dressed in weird uniforms.

They try to remove my hands from my ears but as each one touches me I push them off, scared of what they’ll do and scared of the sounds they’ll let in if I hear again. After pushing away their grasping hands the tears only flow more, all eyes are on me, even the patients in the beds around me are looking at me (the ones I can’t quite remember have a special look in their eyes and I can’t tell whether it’s pity or understanding).

Doctors are shouting commands and nurses are still grabbing my hands but despite my now weak frame, I spent weeks or months of blocking out the sounds they threw at me, refusing to listen but then they got inside my head.

This ordeal continues for merely a few moments more before all the doctors and nurses step away, I look at them confused through my teary eyes but then relief washes over my face as a familiar figure walks through the door. Finnick. He rushes towards me followed behind by a few others who run to other patients.

He wraps his arms around me but my hands still don’t budge from my ears until he reaches his hands up and places them on top of mine. His hands are calloused but somehow still soft, the corners of my lips upturn slightly before returning to the straight line.

He’s talking but I can’t hear him until he turns around and I assume yells at the doctors as they quickly scurry out of the room leaving only us and the other patients. He turns back and his eyes are on mine. He’s always had the most beautiful eyes, the green specks in the sea of his eyes, even if I forgot Finnick I could never forget his eyes. Gently, he grips my hands and slowly pulls them away from my ears, I resist at first but then relent, relaxing my arms and letting Finnick bring them down in front of us. He places a soft kiss on each of my hands before laying them down on the bed.

Leaning forward towards me he wraps his arms around my frail body, gently, careful not to hurt me. I rest my head on his shoulder before burying my face into the crook of his neck and wrapping my arms around his neck. My breathing is short and quick as I feel my tears dampen Finn’s shirt but he doesn’t seem to mind.

The warmth of another human is a feeling I have not felt for a while, it seems like forever. I can’t even remember how long ago it was I last saw Finnick but it was too long ago separated by what felt like years of constant torture.

He pulls back but his hands remain gently resting on my waist as I’m sat up in the hospital bed. He places his forehead on my mine and closes his eyes whilst I mimic his movements. This was something we always did, before we got separated and repeating our little ritual brings back not only happy memories but the most important and meaningful ones. 

“You’re okay now,” Finn says quietly, his forehead still resting on mine. “I’ve got you. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” He says and even with everything that had happened recently, I believe him entirely. I nod slightly and gently as I can’t bring myself to say anything. 

“Are you okay?” I ask him, it takes a couple of tries to finally get the simple words out. Finn chuckles softly.

“I’m okay. You’re the one you should be worried about.” He says leaning back slightly to look at me. “How are you feeling?” He says now holding onto my hands again.

“Fine.” I croak out.

“Does it hurt?” He asks.

“What?”

“Anything.”

“No more than normal,” I say as an attempt at sarcasm but he only responds with a pair of sad eyes and a discouraged face. Silence fills the room for a couple of seconds but the sound of the machines hasn’t stopped. “When can I leave?” I say, my head drooping slightly at the high drug dosage.

“Not yet.” He says pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. “I’m sorry.” He says sincerely looking at my disappointed expression. 

“I missed you so much…” I say quietly, placing my head on his chest. “The hope that you were alive and waiting for me somewhere was what kept me going.” I say, getting tearful again.

“I will always wait for you no matter where or when.”

-

AN: I know everyone's in their Hunger Games phase right now so I thought I'd contribute even though I'm in my Hunger Games phase all the time.

I hope you enjoyed reading!

[etherealily]

guilt // f.odair

[1/3] Long. this was queued, idk if I've already promised another character before this is out.

Part 2 : Art

Finnick Odair + fem!reader. Warnings : Cuss words, SFW but discretion advised, mature themes.

Desc. : But is it in his nature?

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

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'Suck on his sellout cock, go ahead', your mind taunts you as you traipse behind him into the Victor's Village, a place where you simultaneously hoped you'd live and you'd never step into again.

See, Finnick had always dominated your childhood.

You grew up watching him charm the nation, be welcomed back to the District like he was God.

One of your biggest flexes was that you got to see him in person in a parade once, when he'd come back from one of his many Capitol visits.

However. That all changed once you became fifteen. Because you'd finally got some fucking sense and realized that the people at the Capitol, the Hunger Games, none of it was fair, it was all fucking shit.

And you hated Finnick all the more for it.

Prancing around, doing promotions, adverts, sending children to die, being the Capitol's bitch. You'd narrowly escaped your last chance to be reaped, but you still wished he'd choke on his ridiculously expensive Capitol meal.

You couldn't respect him.

But. But, it wasn't like you'd ever tell him that, though. Because when Finnick Odair talks to you, you fucking talk back.

And when he tells you he wants you to come back home with him after seeing you by the ocean one night, you go, no matter how much you'd rather fucking kill yourself.

"This is my house.", he smiles, and waits expectantly, as if you're supposed to applaud.

"It's nice."

He doesn't look disappointed or surprised at that. In fact, he seems mildly entertained. "Get in."

═════════════════════ ⋆🔱⋆ ══════════════════

"And then, maybe, just bring your hand up the side of your leg? Yeah, yeah, just like that. Okay, yeah, sweetheart, that's it."

Click.

"And this is for..."

"Modelling."

"For the Capitol?"

"Who else?"

You raise a brow, your mind immediately picturing some rhinestone encrusted Capitol asshole getting off to a picture of you. You shudder.

"I'm joking. It's for me."

"For you?"

"Feel free to look around.", he says, offhandedly, as he looks through the camera at all the pictures he'd just clicked of you. "Maybe something will catch your fancy."

"You brought me here to... take pictures of me and... let me take whatever I want from your house?"

"I'm a weirdo, sweetheart."

"What will you do with the pictures?"

"I dunno. Can't publish them anywhere. I guess I'll just use them.", he mutters, more to himself than you, but you catch it. He looks up and then clarifies, "To improve my photography skills."

Thank fuck.

"Why me?"

"You're a good subject."

Your fingers move almost fluidly past various things, bottles of expensive liquor, watches, jewellery that he probably stole from his long list of Capitol lovers, and a single, slightly pathetic looking conch.

"I'm a subject? Like... math?"

He snorts. It's condescending, he's aware - there's no way you'd know. You've never been out of the District.

"It's photography lingo. A subject is who you're taking photos of. You have the correct facial structure for my lighting to illuminate you how I want it to. Hence, you're a good subject."

"Oh."

He continues flicking through photos and adjusting the background, taking a few trial shots with the result of his tinkering, until he seems to notice that you haven't spoken in a while. "You like the conch?"

"It's pretty."

"So are you."

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Ugh. There he goes again, back to Finnick Odair, Capitol man-whore instead of Finnick, photo geek.

You turn to him. "How much did it cost? Twice the wine?"

"I didn't buy it. I found it, back when I was eleven."

"You've had it for almost a decade?"

He licks his lips, his hands pausing their scrolling of the camera's gallery for a moment. "I guess it has been a decade."

"What was it like, though? When you won?"

"Won? Won what?"

"The Games."

"Oh. Uh... bittersweet."

"Bitter? Why would it be bitter?"

"You ask a lot of questions. Sit down."

You know the truth. He just didn't want to admit that there was nothing bitter going on. He won because he was hot, and now, he continued reaping the benefits of his genetic lottery win.

You sit, still looking up at him as he comes to kneel in front of you, turning his camera to you. "What do you think?"

The pictures he's taken of you have an unsettling ethereality to them. In one, you're looking out the window with your back to the camera, your outfit hidden by a rose he'd apparently been holding in front of the camera.

A white rose.

It featured in every fucking picture, so much so that you almost asked him about it. Key word : almost.

In one of the more lighthearted ones, the rose sat in your mouth.

"They're pretty nice."

"Is your vocabulary limited to those two words? Pretty. Nice."

"I don't know what else to say."

He regards your face for a moment - like, really fucking observes you - before fiddling with some knob on the camera. "Take off your clothes."

That shouldn't have surprised you as much as it did.

"What?"

He looks up, confused. "Take off your clothes and I'll take some pictures."

"What? No."

"You don't want to? But you were okay with all the previous pictures."

"Yeah, because I was clothed."

"Being unclothed is a problem for you? Being exposed? Hm? That bothers you?"

What?!

"I- look, man, I'm not trying to offend you."

"But you are. You said you'd let me take photos of you. You are not your clothes, are you? You are your self, your soul, your body."

"Yeah, but I'm just not comfortable."

'Y'know what, sweetheart, people do shit they're not comfortable with all the fucking time. Twenty-five/eight. If you can't deal with it, you're weak. Take. It. Off."

You had a feeling there was another reason he was so angry about your non-compliance, but you didn't push it.

"Please don't make me do this."

"Fine! FUCK! Am I asking you to suck my cock? Huh? I could, y'know that? I could've, but no, I asked you to help me make art, and you chickened out!", he yells, his finger scarily close to poking your eye.

Finnick Odair was no longer pissing you off.

Finnick Odair was genuinely scaring you.

"Just get out.", he mutters, setting his camera down in defeat on his couch. "Get out, seriously."

You don't even have two seconds of backing-away-time before he stops you again. "What if I killed your family?"

That scares you more. "What?"

"What if I killed your family? Or at least, threatened to? Would you do it? Would you?", he asks, and now, he's not angry at you, or frustrated, he's more desperate, frantic, as if your answer would shake his fucking world.

As if your answer would change his self perception.

"Please don't kill my family."

"Would you suck my cock if I threatened to kill your family, Y/N?!"

"YES!", you scream, flinching, almost. "Yes! I would, but please, PLEASE don't!"

Finnick Odair gazes back at you with relief, and you want to strangle him. "You would, wouldn't you? You'd do unspeakable things for your family, yes?"

Well, of course.

"Things that would make your skin crawl. Not just because you love them, but because you're responsible for them. Because you got yourself into this mess."

He's no longer talking to or about you, that much is clear.

"And it's up to you to keep them away from it."

Slowly backing away, you try your hardest not to show up in his peripheral, to make sure he stays in whatever zone he's in.

But he is Finnick Odair. So he doesn't even look up at you as he instructs you. "Don't take the conch." Like stealing from him was the first thing on your mind.

"Wasn't planning to."

"Don't tell anyone about today."

"Wasn't planning to."

"Stay."

Wasn't planning to.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. Please. Stay."

The apology only solidifies your urge to stab him in the gut. "I have to get home."

"I didn't mean stay the night. I don't want you staying the night."

Finnick Odair, as you had begun to gather, was debilitatingly honest.

"I just mean stay for a while. Have dinner and then go."

"Dinner?"

"Yes, dinner. I have turkey from the Capitol."

"What's that?"

"It's a kind of bird. It's just like chicken but better."

"What's chicken?"

"Another kind of bird."

"Oh."

He frowns at you for a moment. "You're not okay with eating birds, are you?"

"They're just... very rare, so I don't see why you have to kill them."

He sighs, looking around the room in deep thought. "I could make fish. You know fish. You like fish."

You do know fish. You do like fish. You nod.

~~~~

Finnick's fish is unlike any you've ever fucking eaten.

Living in District 4, you'd figured you'd had fish every way it could be cooked. But no.

You can't help but take more. And more. And more. You weren't hungry, and momentarily felt guilt, thinking about kids in the other districts who were, but it was divine and you couldn't bring yourself to care much.

"You like that?", he asks, from opposite you, raising a brow in amusement.

"It's really fucking good."

He whistles lowly. "Ooh, nice, vocabulary expansion. So you do cuss. I was afraid I'd corrupted you with my rough Capitol language.", he muses, looking at your plate. "You have room for dessert?"

"Doesn't everyone, always?"

He nods. "That's fair. Cake?"

CAKE? This Capitol whore managed to bring cake back to District 4?

"Sure."

That was divine, too.

"You like that, too?"

"Yeah. It's really good. The Capitol has it really good."

"The Capitol is filled with cunts who throw up food because they want to taste more."

Was that... disdain? Interesting.

"Well, seeing as you spend most of the year there, I just thought..."

He stands, clearing the plates. "What? That I was one of them?"

You watch him go into the kitchen, taking a sip of water as you do. "No, just that... no, yeah, I did."

"It's okay, I get that a lot. I just... I gotta go, do these promotions, adverts. I have to. I made a deal."

You sigh, standing and pushing the dining table chair back to its original position. "Contract?"

He clenches his jaw momentarily, before nodding, his shoulders tense. "Yeah. Sm'n like that.", he grins, his dimples emerging once more. Thirteen year old you would have swooned and fainted and died.

Eighteen year old you just lets him lead you to the door.

"I'm leaving for the Capitol tomorrow. Along with the tributes from this year."

Why he's telling you this, you have no clue.

"You should come and wave me off."

"Do we know each other well enough for that?"

"No, but I know you know the tributes well. One of them goes to school with you, doesn't she?"

Yes. Little Faye.

"Yes, she's in the eighth grade. I used to tutor her."

The reality hits. She will probably never be able to high-five you when she gets a question right again.

"You should give her courage.", he suggests. "Going in thinking you're going to die will get you killed. Let her know she can make it."

"Can she?", you ask, quietly. The answer will ruin you, you can tell.

"She's a Career."

"Yes, but can she?"

"Chances are slim." Finnick fucking Odair. Finnick "debilitatingly honest" fucking Odair. "I won't tell her that, though."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Finnick."

═════════════════════ ⋆🔱⋆ ══════════════════

His hands grip your chin and you swear you're about to kill him. You look up at him, hanging out the open door of the train carriage and holding onto you, and you're half tempted to pull him down with you because what the fuck was he doing?

You can feel it coming, the urge to slap him away, but then again, it's still Finnick FUCKING Odair, and you're not sure if there's a law against rejecting his advances.

So you just kind of let him kiss you. It's not bad, no, far from it, it's just... unexpected.

Considering it's in front of every camera in the district.

Considering you'd only known each other one night.

Considering his last words were 'you're the only thing I care about.'

Considering he said your full name an unsettling amount of times.

Considering little Faye was watching and wondering why you were calm enough to be making out with some hot guy instead of sending her off.

Considering now the entirety of Panem was either going gush at you or rush at you.

~~~~

You can't bring yourself to watch the news.

Everyone assumes it's because of Finnick.

But, ironically, Finnick's the only one who knows it's not.

It's because of Faye.

"Finnick's on TV.", you're informed at least twice an hour.

"'Kay.", is your usual response. "Faye?"

"I'm sure Finnick trained her well. And besides, the 11th is this weekend! You'll find out."

Right. You'd been invited by Snow him-fucking-self to the Capitol. Apparently, the cameras outside your house weren't enough. He needed you there, with Finnick, for promos. While children were dying.

You receive gifts from your family, your neighbours, your teachers - basically anyone you'd breathed around - for your journey to the Capitol, as if you're going to some dreamland.

As you ride the train, your head against the seat, you try to imagine this is the train that leads you out of District 4. Your family will be waiting at the destination - in your head, an actual dreamland - and you'll be fine and dandy.

As you're escorted out, you imagine you're hanging from the ceiling in full display on the TV instead of Faye having to go through the Games.

And as you're directed to Finnick's room, you imagine slitting his throat. It's funny. You almost laugh. Then, the door opens.

Dimples.

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"How is it you've never worn lip tint before?", he mutters, tutting as if you'd just misspelled a basic word. "C'mon, pucker up.", he instructs, his thumb smearing red on your lips.

You have no idea what you look like and you're not sure if you want to find out. "I thought you were a merchant."

You shake your head. "No, I said I live by the merchant sector of 4."

"Not in it?"

"Of course not. Why would I have been picking seashells to make necklaces out of if I were a merchant? I just sell shit in the marketplace. Doesn't make me a merchant."

"I mean, technically... yeah, it does.", he says, his thumb accidentally slipping and smudging your makeup over the left of your cheek.

"Right, well, I'm not merchant class.', you shrug, trying to wipe the results of idiocy that was Finnick Odair off the side of your cheek.

Finnick... seems to get it. He nods along as he continues trying to de-plague your face with makeup.

Guilt is etched on his face. Regret, a tiny bit. Sadness, festering throughout.

"What's that look?"

He doesn't seem like he's out of whatever thought he was in moments ago when he hums in response, before quickly leaping towards his bedside and taking his camera, holding his thumb next to your bottom lip, with your still messy lip tint just about seen. Click.

"What's that look?", you repeat.

"What look?"

"That one.", you say, pointing to his face as if he can see it.

"That's my sorry look. I shouldn't have sprung the kiss on you. It was a dick move.", he says, gently moving behind you and guiding your shoulders to manoeuver you to face the mirror.

He says it as if he already knows you'll forgive him.

Yes, you do. But it irks you that he seems to assume that.

"Yes, it was."

"I'm sorry. What do you think?"

"I look like the 12 escort."

"Trinket? No, no way. You look great.", he assures, and you try to believe him, but you haven't seen yourself in makeup before and it doesn't look as though it's you standing there.

"Beautiful.", he says, as an afterthought, almost, as if he were trying out the word to see if it sounded right or not. He seems to decide on the former. "Beautiful.", he repeats, nodding.

That gets your attention and you take a second glance, and suddenly, you see what he sees. The makeup isn't subtle and hidden, but it isn't what the Capitol wears. It's... pleasant.

He brushes some hair in front of your shoulders. "See? Beautiful.", he reiterates, like he can't get enough of that word now.

"You sure I'll fit in here like this? Like... dressed up?"

"Yeah.", he says, vehemently nodding before doing that thing when he looked in your eyes again. "Well, mostly. I mean, I'd prefer it if you had the easiest time possible, 'cause I kinda got you into this mess."

You nod. That checks out. "Thanks."

═════════════════════ ⋆🔱⋆ ══════════════════

The night sees you staring at the ceiling while Finnick breathes softly in sleep beside you. It's pleasant. Domestic, almost. Like what Finnick wants, you think. Like the Capitol believes, you know.

He shifts and your eyes snap shut. Why you're so afraid of him finding out that you are awake, you don't know, but you are. He reaches out, his knuckles grazing your cheek with enough purpose that you realize he wasn't asleep in the first place, either.

And then he does it.

His hand reaches out, gently feeling around for your hand, before he grips the middle three fingers on your left.

He squeezes them softly, then brings them to his chest, where his own hand lays. That's it.

You watch him actually sleep until he mumbles, shifting again. 'Y/N?"

"Yeah?", you respond immediately, kicking yourself internally. Cover blown.

"Can't sleep?"

"No."

"Scared?"

"Mhm."

"Of the photos we took today? I promise, the makeup isn't bad, and you won't have to take any more - they'll publish them and pass them off as taken over a few months, so it's not-"

"No, for Faye."

Silence. "Oh."

"I feel like I didn't get to even tell her how well she's going to do."

"You can see her."

You can what?

"When?"

"Well, not in person, but we can watch the live feed of the Gam-"

"Yes. Yes, please, thank you.'

He sits up, rubbing his eyes. "Really?"

"Yes. Yes, absolutely. When can we?"

"Well, technically, it's always streaming, so I, I guess we can go now."

You nod.

He raises a brow as if he never expected you to agree. "Okay, uh, just, uh... gimme a second to wake up, okay?"

He comes out of the bathroom after washing his face to find you pacing, biting the inside of your cheek. "C'mon."

~~~~

The Viewing Room is desolate except for a few Gamemakers' Assistants (GAs), that have to watch footage 24/7.

"We have to record these things all the time, just in case something happens during the cover of nightfall", he explains, as he walks in front of you and gestures to the large screen in the opposite side of the room. "Usually, the stronger Careers, from 1 or 2-", he cuts himself off. That was not what you needed to be hearing right now.

He watches as you slowly walk up to the screen, as though the soft glow from it could lead you to Faye. Your eyes dart around the entirety of the enormous screen, looking for something - anything - to announce you of Faye's survival.

"She is still alive. You'd have heard a cannon and seen a picture of her if not."

It's not the most comforting thing he can say. He's usually better at this. God, if he didn't miss his old self, but the guilt of essentially using you to keep Snow's interest off his family and on you, the - to the extent of Snow's knowledge, anyway - love of his life, isn't exactly letting him be warm and inviting to you.

But he wants to. Let it be known, he wants nothing more than to do what he usually does. Brighten people up.

"Where is she?"

"WE'VE GOT A RUNNER!", calls one of the GAs and your head snaps to a blue triangle tracking one of the tributes on the screen, and you run over to that side of the massive screen.

The lights come on in the room, and people flood in. Sponsors, gamblers, Gamemakers. Because this is prime TV. He imagines every screen in the country lighting up, because you have to watch. Every child has just been woken up because the feed's back on.

"Who's the runner?", someone asks, and Finnick turns to you, diligently tracking the blue triangle with your eyes. Blue. Ocean. District 4. It's Faye.

"Girl from Four. The boy's already dead."

"How much did I have on her?"

"Oh, c'mon, you didn't have shit on her! No one thought she'd make it this far."

"Fine, fine, but now how much?"

The sounds of cruelty almost have him zoning out, going back into Capitol-Party-Finnick-Mode. That is, until, you call him.

"Finnick?"

He rushes to your side, a guilt induced speed to his gait. "Yeah, y'okay?" No the fuck she isn't. What the fuck is wrong with him?

"Who's the gold triangle chasing her?" Gold. Luxury. District 1. CAREER.

"Uh..." Deliver it softly. Sweetly.

"Unless she's a shapeshifter, the girl's DEAD!", laughs one of the sponsors. "It's my tribute, the Career boy from 1 chasin' her, with... wait, zoom in? Oh, yeah, a dagger!"

Your eyes widen and Finnick wants to kill himself. "She'll be fine. She can swim, he..."

Can also swim. Fuck.

"... he won't be able to keep up with her." , he says, finally.

Partially true. District 1 Careers didn't have access to the ocean, not like those from 4, so it was very much possible that he wasn't trained to know about tides and currents and shit.

There's a moment where no one in the room says anything. Because they both just jumped into the water, and Faye went under.

Finnick holds your head to his chest as you cling onto him in fear. It's not even remotely close to making up for what he's planning to put you through - well, already putting you through - but he at least feels a bit like the old him. The one who could actually comfort.

The tribute from 1 splashes around a bit, looking for Faye. You've turned a bit now, your head's still in his chest, but half your face is facing the screen. You're watching, anxious as ever.

"She's not drowned.", he mutters, stupidly. Duh.

"What if something pulled her under?"

Oh fuck. Yeah. Valid point.

"I'm sure it's just a strategy."

One that he remembers teaching her.

Maybe if she uses this and beats this District 1 Career, he could be one more step closer to gaining your forgiveness, and his redemption.

For a crime that the victim wasn't even aware was being committed.

The Career flounders around a bit more, screaming, clearly, but the audio is muted here. He looks around, not willing to look under, in case that might trigger the release of any muttations the Capitol cooked up for them.

And then, he's tugged a bit, his leg down, and he springs away from the motion. Please be Faye. Please be Faye.

He's jerked fully under, and a splash of Faye's hair can be seen before both disappear underneath the midlly murky waters, a struggle very evident in the way the water's splattering about.

Suddenly, it stops.

Faye leaps exhaustedly onto the bank, gasping for breath.

A cannon goes off. Florian Jentry. District 1 , Luxury. Score : 10.

Finnick holds onto you tighter as you sigh in relief. He softly kisses your hair because he doesn't know what else to do.

Relief is the only possible emotion to feel.

No one's happy. No one's sad. You're only either relieved that your loved one isn't gone, or relieved that they're not gone in a torturous way.

Wait, scratch that. The patron who just bet on Faye is happy.

[bruisedboys]

thinking about finnick odair and casual dominance !!

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

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

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

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

[americaswritings]

The Hunger Games Masterlist

Young Coriolanus Snow

Words of Roses & Ruin | Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

Coriolanus is forced to watch the gamemaker use his voice against you in the arena.

When we stole the night

When Coriolanus is send into the arena to get Sejanus he doesn't make it out and has to hide in the tunnels. That is where he finds you, his tribute.

MORE COMING SOON!

Finnick Odair

MORE COMING SOON!

Add yourself to my taglist!

[lucy-gray1075]

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

[wonderlandwalker]

He Knows Better | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Finnick tells himself not to get close to you, because what is the point? But when you survive your games he finds that he can't stop thinking about you. When he finally comes to see you, you're in pieces, and he swears to himself he will put you back together, no matter the costs. Find part 2 here: Should've Known

Content Warnings/Tags: Mentions of prostitution/sex trafficking, angst, Finnick deserving better, crying, bad representation of a panic attack, not proofread

Word Count: 1.6k

Requested by Anon: I loveeeee love love love your Finnick fic. It was the perfect mix of sweet and so angstyyyyy !! I'm having constant Finnick brainrot 😭 I was wondering what you think about writing a finnick × reader fic sort of loosely based on Hozier's "It Will Come Back" where reader is maybe a tribute or another Victor and the first person to show Finnick softness and kindness without asking for anything in return in so long and he's like "dont let me in with no intention to keep me" and "dont be kind to me" and he just is totally feral and obsessed with the reader ? You're such a talented writer !! ❤️❤️❤️

A/N: There is this Dutch expression which goes ‘the monkey comes out of the sleeve’ loosely meaning the hidden meaning is revealed and I couldn't for the life of me think of the English equivalent that made sense to me, so, well, I hope the story is coherent. As usual, divider by @saradika

He remembers first seeing you, you were so young, but to be fair, so was he. In previous years he had always become quick friends with the tributes he was supposed to mentor, how could he not? But it didn't take him long to figure out that they never made it back, and while the company was nice for a while, the hurt in the end wasn't worth it anymore. There's something about you that he can't quite place, but it doesn't matter, because he's not going to get attached. When you first stepped into the training hall you didn't look scared, you didn't even look excited, no, you looked like you had made peace. 

He didn't get to talk to you much, you spend most of your training with Mags, not learning how to fight, but learning how to survive. And every time he watched you, he watched how your eyes lit up when learned how to filter water, he watched how proud Mags was of you each time. And he felt something tugging at him, he felt a need to get to know you. But he knew better.

Because what were the odds, he had seen this before, he had done this before. No, he shouldn't get attached to you. And yet, for the first time after returning from his own, he found himself watching the games. Watching the tributes become fewer and fewer, hoping, praying, that you'd make it through. The fewer left the more desperate he became. You've gotten this far, don't let the luck run out just yet. He saw how your last opponent fell, and he saw your face in the centre of the screen, of virtually every screen. And once again, you didn't look excited, you looked like you had found peace again, and maybe, just maybe, he let himself believe he could too, that you could show him. 

He didn’t go see you after, it wouldn't be of any use. What more did he have to offer you, you did not need a mentor anymore. He had made peace, he had made peace with never seeing you again. So what was the difference if you were alive or not? That's what he thought, if he gave in now, he didn't think he'd ever be able to let go, it would keep coming back. 

It wasn't until a few months later when someone knocked on his door, and in a sleepy haze, he opened it without thinking. He had spent the night at the capitol, and he never managed to get much rest after. Usually, when he had been gone for the night, Mags would come to check in on him, and have Valerian tea with him. He doubted it actually worked, but the effort was enough to brighten his day. So he opened the door, but it wasn't Mags, it was you. Your face was fuller, it had more colour, but the bags under your eyes were still there. Would Mags bring you Valerian tea as well? No, no he needed to stop thinking about you. The last time he had actually seen you was when you won. He had forced himself to avoid you ever since, he hadn't been completely sure why anymore, but now he knew again. The way you looked at him gave him hope, hope he couldn't afford. “What do you want” he asked, he sounded upset, and in a way he was, but the way the sparkle in your eyes dimmed made him regret it. 

And so he opened the door further, stepping aside, and you didn't need more of an invitation before you walked in. You took a seat at his small kitchen table, and he decided it would be impolite not to join you, so he sat down as well. He was about to talk, but you beat him to the punch.

“Snow came to see me.” There is was he thought, the reason, everyone always had a reason. Still, he found himself allowing you to continue, wanting to hear your voice again, even if it brought bad news. 

“I talked to Mags about it, but she said I should come see you, so here I am.” You chuckled, but the situation was not something that asked for it, must be nerves, he thought, but why were you nervous, surely he didn't make you nervous. 

“Look, I don’t want to bother you with my problems Finnick, I know you're dealing with enough yourself, but I don’t know what else to do.” Your eyes glossed over, and you looked like you were about to start crying, but you didn't. He wanted to say something, to comfort you, but what was there to say? And so you two sat in silence, he was looking at you, he was memorizing your face. This was the last time he would let himself see you. He didn't want to get close to you, and with how mesmerizing you were to him, he knew better.

And yet, as days passed, he found himself thinking of you. Whenever he needed comfort, he thought of you, the way you smiled at him when he told you a nervous joke. He could get lost in the memory of your eyes, and more often than not, he did. Every day he spent without seeing you made his heart hurt. 

Without thinking, he found himself walking to your door. It was like he wasn't in control of his own feet. He was in constant agony with himself. He wanted to be with you, but your kindness was one he couldn't afford, because it had the power to break him. He knocked on your door, not even aware he was doing so until he heard the sound echo back to him. He heard rustling, but he didn't hear you approaching the door, so he knocked again, and for good measure, he decided to call out. “Y/n? It’s me, it’s Finnick”. He heard someone approach the door at that, and a little bit of hope sparked inside him that you wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see you, but he knew better. 

The door opened, but it wasn't you that he came face to face with, it was Mags. She was standing in your hallway with a sad smile on her face, and she didn't say anything, but she looked to the stairs on the right end corner. He didn't need any more encouragement, and he sped up them, taking two steps at a time. He knocked on the door he was in front of, but there wasn't an answer. But when he listened more closely, he could hear crying coming from the other side. You were crying. His mind was reeling with possibilities, but whatever it was that had caused this, he swore to himself he would fix it, even if it broke him. 

And so he entered the room, opening the door softly so as not to startle you, but it didn't matter. He saw you in the corner, you had pulled your knees to your chest and he couldn't see your face from where you had hidden it, but his heart broke over it nonetheless. He walked towards you, testing the waters, testing his luck. He was scared for you, but mostly, he was scared you wouldn't want to see him. When you heard him, your head shot up to look at him. The way in which your eyes were bloodshot and swollen made him want to punch a hole in the wall next to you. The way your voice cracked when you said his name made him want to curl up right next to you. he got closer to you, kneeling down in front of you. Allowing you to take the next steps on your own time.

After a few minutes, you had slightly calmed down while he was tracing patterns on your knee with his thumb. You spoke to him, but you didn't look him in his eyes.

“They’re bidding on me Finnick, they’re bidding on me like I’m something to possess”

The feeling of dread that came over him was something he had never felt before. He thought he had gone through all someone could. He thought there was nothing that could hurt him anymore in a way he didn't already, but he had been wrong. 

He was willing to do anything for you to be spared from this, but he knew it wasn't any use. 

He knew better. And so he did all he could, taking you in his arms and whispering reassuring words, until your crying and your shaking stopped, and you seemed at peace again. 

He had tried himself to get away from what snow had wanted, what the capitol had wanted, he tried everything he could think of, but he couldn't get away from it. He had made peace with the fact that people always wanted something from him, and maybe that's why he couldn't get you out of his head, because you were the only person that was at peace with him, without anything more, just him. So he told you the only thing he could. He told you he’d be there for you, that you’d get through it together. He wasn't sure if he believed it, but he knew it was what you needed to hear, it was what he had needed to hear, except there had been no one to tell him. He would spend the rest of his life wondering if you needed him.

But he won't shut you out again, he knows better.

Part 2: Should've Known

[underoospeterparker]

omg omg finnick x crybaby reader where someone made fun of her for crying and it really hurts and upsets her, so when finnick comes home and hears her sniffling in their room she tries to hide it from him </3

awwww:(((

finnick odair x fem!crybaby!reader, 0.5k words

"Honey?" Finnick's voice rang through the seemingly abandoned apartment as he stepped in the front door, shrugging off his jacket and shoes as he slung his bag on a kitchen stool. "Where are you?"

Normally, you'd be lying on the sofa, ready to burst into his arms the second he came home, a bright and welcoming smile on your face. Yet you weren't, and that made him slightly worried. His steps were cautious as he made his way to the bedroom.

Finnick stood outside the door, rapping against it with his calloused knuckles, only to be rewarded with a wet sniffle. He opened the door slowly to see you curled up in a corner of the room, head buried between your legs.

As soon as you met his eyes, you quickly stood up, wiping your fallen tears with the sleeve of your jacket. "Hi," you greeted him, plastering a smile onto your face. "When did you get home?"

He ignored your question and stepped quickly towards you, hands on your shoulders. "Why are you crying?" He seemed mad, but it wasn't directed towards you. "And why are you hiding it from me, hm?"

You looked down, careful not to meet his gaze, because you knew you would tell him anything if he looked at you like that. "I wasn't crying," you lied. You weren't particularly a good liar.

Finnick's eyes narrowed. He placed his pointer finger under your chin, tapping gently, bringing your face up to meet his. "Sweetheart."

That was all it took for your walls to break down. You let out a broken sob and he swore he felt his heart explode. "Oh, angel," he cooed, his face softening. He made his way to the bed and patted his lap, which you took as an invitation.

Finnick wrapped himself around you, shielding you from everything that was bad as he murmured gentle words of encouragement and comfort. "Shhh," he murmured, "you're okay, baby. You're safe, alright? You can cry."

You lay there for a while, cradled in Finnick's arms as his fingers played with the hair curling at the nape of your neck. "Tell me what happened," he pleaded, pressing kisses repeatedly to the top of your head. "Please."

Nodding, you pulled yourself up to your were seated, facing him. He crooned over your tear stained face, reaching up to thumb your tears away himself.

"Someone made-" you stammered, your face hot from his touches. Finnick looked at you, a tilt to his lips, encouraging you to continue. "Someone made fun of me for crying."

Your admittance made Finnick go quiet, his body tightening. He looked incredibly angry, but he relaxed when he saw more tears start to pool at your waterline. "Who, honey?"

"A guy from work," you said, burying your head into his shirt. "It was nothing, Finn, don't worry about it," you added reassuringly.

Finnick relaxed slightly, just enough to tug you closer to him. "Okay," he whispered. "If he tells you anything again, you call me, alright? I'll take care of him for you."

You probably should have felt a little alarmed, but instead you smiled into his chest. "Okay."

[sincere1ystar]

Love’s Last Breath

finnick odair x fem! reader

When an illness comes to threaten the bond you have with Finnick, he proves that he’ll still love you in sickness and in health.

Even though Finnick seemed composed to others, he had a certain type of anger to him. It was the type of anger that ran through his blood and made a home in the vessel that keeps him alive. It’s always felt like a fire to him, not the kind that keeps you warm but the kind that will burn you into ashes. He outlived most of his peers for what? To get to this point? After all he’s went through during the games and being a victor, he can’t help but let it all engulf him.

If he only had one word to describe your presence he would pick ethereal. It fit you perfectly as you brought him peace that he’s never felt before. And once he felt it once he couldn’t fathom going without it? How could he? You blew out his inner fire within him and took care of all his burns. His insides were no longer filled with anguish as your love made a home in the place where it once resided.

So when you caught some mysterious illness, he goes straight back into that state of terror he was constantly in before she met you. Having ill health had nothing to do with man, it was all nature. He couldn’t make it go away in the usual ways he did and that terrified him. Even after building a strong persona for himself by being a victor, Finnick was just a man. And a man against nature has no chance, a message drilled into his head after seeing it in the games. Surviving during the games was his one chance that nature gave him. If he knew what the future would hold he would have held onto that chance and save it for later.

When Finnick opens the door to your hospital room your head is pounding and your whole body feels clammy and damp. You curse yourself for taking it for granted for when you didn’t have dozens of tubes in your arms as you watch the fan on the ceiling spin, it’s the only thing you can do with your lack of energy.

If you were able to you would have teased Finnick when he barges in with a worried expression on his face, but alas you were too weak to do anything but greet him with a small smile.

He greets you with a kiss on your forehead, to which you immediately retreated and tried to back away.

“What’re you doing? Are you crazy?! Don’t do that you’ll get sick”, you say worriedly.

“I was just checkin’ your temperature”, Finnick murmurs into your hairline before he gives you another kiss on your forehead. He can’t help but chuckle at you worrying over his wellbeing as if he was the sick one.

“Well next time use a thermometer”, you mutter playfully in response.

“Nah I don’t think I will”, he whispers to soothe your pounding head , “Think I like this way more… it’s more effective”.

You laugh weakly at his response. Your eyes can barely stay open, but you try your best for his sake. “He certainly didn’t come all this way to watch you rest”, you note to yourself.

But of course he notices the way your eyes seem to be weighing down. He notices the way you have trouble carrying yourself, even though you’re sitting up against a hospital bed. And of course he notices that your glow is gone, snatched away from you despite how hard your grip on it was.

“Rest now”, he murmurs softly, “I’m right here”. He holds his hand in yours to reassure you he isn’t leaving your side.

You’re about to protest when he climbs into the hospital bed with you. The bed was small to begin with so he must be cramped, but still he doesn’t complain as he wraps his arms around you. “Is that better now?”

You nod as you slowly start to fall asleep too weak to do anything else. Finnick doesn’t sleep much, his mind too worried to shut off for the night. He spends most of the night stroking your hair softly and whispering to you whenever you stirred. “Shhh rest honey rest.. I’m right here”, he coos softly everytime.

That’s when you realized that love wasn’t the way Finnick loved you when you were all dressed up and confident in your beauty. Love was when he still cared for you even when you felt like the worst version of yourself. Love was when he still found you gorgeous even though you felt physically rotten.

The phrase ‘love is the best medicine’, was a common saying back home. Finnick’s love brought you more comfort than medicine ever did. Pills filled with empty promises to take away the ache from your bones couldn’t compare to the man who could easily take away the ache in your heart.

[dixonsbrat]

finnick who is possessive and overprotective and needs to let everyone know that you’re his ! finnick who leaves trails of hickeys along your neck in places you can’t cover up to purposely do so ! finnick who will hold your hand the second someone so much as looks your way ! finnick who questions everyone’s motives and intentions towards you because he knows you’re beautiful and that people like to take advantage of that ! finnick who practically shoos off unwanted company so to not waste your time ! finnick who will do everything in his power to make sure you are provided and cared for ᰔ