#finnick ordar x you

[pxgeturner]

fifinnj ikn.

where.

where he.

hm. overstimulation-

you feel your in-the-spotlight boyf fade away. he reminds you that he is very much there for you (actor!finnick x not famous!reader in a current-day!au)

an. ok. mer my love, I tried hard you gotta understand 😭. I had a plan. but it ended up not like raw sex how I wanted but more making love. yeah that's it. the main sex scene is so lovey dovey. I hope that's okie. it's what my brain wanted ig. I'm so, so glad I'm finally getting this to you. I hope you love it like I do.

ALSO. to the person who asked "where's my baby finnick???" I hope you're satisfied because this is a bigger piece than I've written in a long time.

warnings: bits of angst, smut 😇, cumming at the same time (we <3 a man w good timing), public sex (under the table), teasing, oral (f!receiving), finnick's smirk

wc: 2k

Lately, finnick is never home. that’s a lie, he comes home to sleep. finnick is never home at any time when he could actually see you. he goes out to the shoot, hangs out with his friends, and comes home whenever he likes. whenever you try to sit him down for a meal, his agent calls, or his manager, or the producer of the project, or the director, or the costume designer, or his friends.

you can’t say the love is gone, you still have little moments of affection. him kissing your temple as he slips into bed, him kissing your hand before he walks out the door, making breakfast together on the few days he doesn’t have to go in too early. 

you know he loves you, and that once filming comes to a wrap, romance will resume to normal. But you feel so lonely. 

…

“want to go to a dinner party?” you roll your eyes at him, continuing to polish your toes, perched on the tub ledge.

“no way in hell would katniss willingly throw a dinner party. And peeta would never make her.”

“it’s a haymitch and effie soiree.” 

“oh, so it’s a soiree now?”

finnick lathers shaving cream with the kabuki brush & bowl set you got him for christmas last year. “you know effie,”

“i'm surprised you’re inviting me,” you say with a bittersweet honestly. he sets the brush back into the bowl, turning to you.

“sweetheart,”

You sigh, “you’re just so busy lately, finn. It’s like strictly work and friends for the past couple of months.”

he kneels on the bathroom tiles, you internally shiver because he’s getting his robe dirty. 

you arch your brow at him. 

“we need this, right?”

“you don’t. you don’t need me. you don’t need anyone... i need you, though.” your eyes start to sting and your throat closes up a bit.

finnick springs into action, gently grabbing your hand that’s paused on the nail polish cap “baby, baby, you don’t need to worry. it’s you and me.” he kisses the knuckles, transferring shaving cream onto your hand. he looks up at you with those sea-green, puppy-dog eyes. "be my date tomorrow night?"

he ate you out that night. down right making out with your pussy. every swipe of his tongue felt like an apology. so sweet, sugar-coated, he was making up for lost time. it was like he was telling you he loves you through your cunt. which felt so absurd a thought when you had it, you laughed out loud. that was the only time finn came up for air, “what? has it been that long? have i lost my touch?” he mocked worry. you told him you got distracted, and to up his game; which he did. you lost count of how many times he made you cum. 

you roll over, wanting to bump into finnick, feel his warmth. you landed on cold sheets instead of your warm boyfriend. so you got up, put on the robe finnick left on the floor and made yourself some tea. 

you’re starting to hate weekends. finnick’s job makes him work around the clock, and this place was finn’s place before it was your together place. you wish he moved into your place, that way you could look around and see memories that didn’t just involve him. 

you put on this green maxi slip dress tha finnick loves on you and a white fur you found at a boutique a few days ago, some big hoop earrings and a green onyx ring. the door opens. finnick. you two are going to be so late for dinner, he still has to get dressed. He pops his head into the bedroom. he’s already dressed.

his jaw drops into that cheeky face he makes. “babe, you got all dolled up for me? you’re so lovely.”

“can you for once say something that isn’t at all smug?”

“something,” he flourishes his arms. 

“very funny, finn. and this isn’t for you, it’s for me. I haven’t seen out friends in a while and i want to look nice.” that's mostly true, although you did actively decide to wear his favorite color.

“ah, yes, of course.” he slides up next to you in front of the vanity. 

“how are you ready?” he grabs one of his cologne bottles.

“you know i have a change of clothes for every occasion in my trunk. and i'm not ready just yet,” he shakes the bottle slightly.

“ah, yes the travel closet. how very crazy rich asians of you.”

“i'm the real-life peik lin.”

…

being at effie and haymitch’s was like fresh air after holding your breath. typically, you didn’t need anyone else to feel alive. but, you don’t know anyone at your new job, and you feel kind of aimless. you’re not sure if you’re going in the right direction anymore

peeta nudges you, “how’s work?”

you fidget with your ring. “new things are always an adjustment.”

a warm hand lands on your thigh. you look at finnick, he smiles, squeezing your thigh. 

“you’ll be fine, once you’re all settled, you’ll knock their socks off.” katniss smiles at you. 

“effie, did you hire a new chef?” 

“why, yes i did, dear! of course you are the one who noticed, you always have had the best test!” she giggles, “aside from me, of course!” you were relieved effie took your bait. You want to focus on something else other than yourself. 

“doesn’t my sugar look absolutely divine?” finnick quips as he starts bunching up your skirt. a chorus of agreement comes in response. by the time someone resumes conversation, he has your dress piled at the bend of your hips. his fingers dance his way over to your clothed sex. immediately, he presses a finger right on your clit. it sends a jolt through you at you sit up a little straighter. 

peeta gives you a look that says everything alright? And you give him a gentle smile back. 

“hey sweetheart,” haymitch asks, looking at you. 

“mm, mmm?” finnick’s making circles around your clit making you dizzy.

you try extra hard to listen to what he says, “i know you said you’re doing that day job but how’s your passion treating you?”

“fashion is a tough industry to get into, let alone do right.” hopefully your voice doesn’t betray you. 

finnick tucks your panties to one side and slips a finger inside. you yelp, mouth closed. 

“you alright, sugar?”

“bit my lip while chewing.”

“aw, baby, you have to be more careful,” patronizing ass.

finnick teases you on an off throughout the night. actively at least, he keeps his finger inside of you for the rest of the meal. Every now and then you’d purposely clench around it, to spur him on. sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. 

on the ride home, you sat scooted as close to the window as possible.

“you are cocky,” 

you look at him, he’s smiling, big and proud. “low,”

“and sexy?” you glare at him. what a pompous boyfriend you have. 

“...yes.” you roll your eyes. 

he holds your hand, “you looked so sexy tonight, baby. i couldn’t resist.”

“that was the first time i’d seen them in months!”

“aw, did you not have fun, sugarcube?”

“i did, but damn you finnick, why does everything have to be a spectacle with you?”

“but you did such a good job of being discreet, babe, there wasn’t any spectacle tonight.”

you let out a small giggle. 

“i’m trying to make everything better, baby.” you hold hands the rest of the way

…

Your boyfriend follows you into the apartment, practically nipping at your heels. He gets his hands on your hips, tugging you back into his chest. He nips and sucks at your neck, hands roaming. 

“You’re so impatient,”

“You’re so tempting.” he picks you up fireman style, carrying you over to the bed. He slips the dress off of you. 

he’s everywhere. your neck, chest, tummy, thighs, kissing your body up and down. yesterday, sure he had your legs shaking and you forgiving him, but today he’s loving you in the way he used to. In a way that has a piece of your soul click back into place.

you arch your back into him, finnick eventually settles on you chest, kissing, nipping, sucking, squeezing. loving you without words. he takes a quick moment to rid himself of his pants, literally smothering himself in your gorgeous tits.

“finn– finn– what are you doing?” you laugh. 

he comes back up. he takes off his suit and rips his shirt. “i’m doing what needs to be done so i can love you and this beautiful fucking pussy, doll.”

You look at him, eyebrow cocked “so my pussy is more beautiful than i am?”

“you are the sum of your parts, baby.” he runs a hand through your hair. “it just so happens that you have the most exquisite pussy.”

“then why aren’t you touching it?” you test him. he slips a couple of fingers into you without missing a beat. 

“what were you saying, sugar?” he rubs up against your g-spot. “c’mon you were about to say something.”

“just- just, finn–”

“it’s okay, sugar, I got you baby, I know what you need.” he slips his fingers out, and you whine. but he doesn’t leave you much room to complain, pushing himself into you. 

oh. my. god. he hasn’t felt this good in so long. trying to stay in control during this hell of a month is torture. during the time you two have been together, he hasn’t taken on any projects. well, there was that one time he was brought on as a late-stage producer when one dropped out. but that wasn’t nearly as time consuming as acting was. finnick never noticed how isolated he is during a shooting period. other than the occasional fling with a co-star, he really didn’t have any sort of relationships. but know he has you and you are such a delicious little distraction. but honestly, celibacy does not suit him. 

initially, he thrusts into you slowly. he wanted to savor this, but you’re just too good. and it’s been too long. and he missed this pussy. last night was just a taste. he’s prepared to keep you here all fucking week if he has to. he lifts your torso up, slipping a pillow under your hips, and as he lays you back down, he kisses you. 

“I missed you,” you breath into his lips.

“i’m right here sweetheart. I’m all yours, I’ll be forever yours, my girl.” he kisses your temple, making a trail down to your breasts. “fuuuck,” he says before taking a nipple into his mouth. he has never (and I mean never) loved a pair of breasts more than your tits. they are goddamn perfect. no one could tear him away from you. if you’d let him, he’d spend an entire day under one of you (his) pajama shirts, his face to your chest, it would be the best day of his life. his hands squeeze your hips. the way you pussy-- it’s fucking glorious. he wants to cum, he wants to cum so bad--

“finn,” you feel him twitch, 

if you keep saying his name the way you are, he might just explode. “finn-finnick!” he has a thumb on your clit. he needs you to cum first. You always cum first. It’s his rule. you're tugging at his hair. And your gripping him like a vice. “finn, please,”

“there’s my good girl.” 

just in time. You two arch into each other an finnick bottoms out in you, losing himself in your warmth. and as he collapses to your side, and you give him your cute little sleepy smile, he thinks one thing. 

I'm so serious about keeping you here all week. he decides that he’ll let you nap for half an hour. he collects supplies, food water etc. and emails your work that your amazing boyfriend has set up a surprise vacation and will be gone for a few days.

you wake up to the sound of an alarm and a nip at your thigh. 

[imsogonesposts]

The Golden Boy

|| ao3 || finnick masterlist || requests are open! ||

summary: You discover bruises on Finnick's back. He's hesitant to tell you how he got them. (wc: 918)

warning: mentions of Finnick's forced prostitution, mentions of bruising, mentions of Finnick's "lovers" not being the nicest (if you know what I mean)

One of the (many) unfortunate conditions of being the Capitol’s “Golden Boy,” was that you never really could say no to what your “customers” wanted. So long as you wanted those that you cared about alive and well. And while you knew of Finnick’s “arrangement” with the Capitol, he still preferred to keep some of the details away from you to keep you from worrying too much. So when you noticed the many bruises littered across his back one day, he didn’t really know what to say to keep you from worrying. Saying he tripped certainly wouldn’t work. 

“Oh my god, what happened to you?” You whispered as you had, accidentally, walked in on Finnick getting changed. There was no way that amount of bruises on one person could be normal. 

“Oh, hey, sweetheart,” he replied, swiftly pulling his shirt down before flashing you one of his charming grins. 

“Finnick,” you whisper, lifting his shirt up again to get a better look at the bruises. It didn’t make sense how he could get them, the weather had been calm, so it’s not like a current could have pushed him into a bunch of rocks. As far as you were aware, bruises like that couldn’t happen to someone who fell on their back.

“Don’t worry about them, sweetheart,” he replied, turning around to face you and taking your hands in his.

 It’ll only cause you to worry more about things neither of us can change, he thought. 

“You can’t expect me to see a bunch of bruises on you and not expect me to worry,” you reply as he squeezes your hands. It was true. If the roles were reversed and Finnick saw you with the bruises, he would also be quick to worry. Hell, he’d track down whoever did that to you and kill them with his own hands for ever laying a finger on you. For ever hurting you. The bright light in his darkest days.

“I know,” he quietly replied, letting go of one of your hands to run his fingers through his hair. A frequent movement he did when he was nervous or hiding something. “It’ll just bring you a lot of unnecessary worrying. You know I don’t like seeing you worry.”

“I’m already worried right now,” you reply. He knew it was true. He could see it in the way your eyebrows creased in the middle, in your eyes, on the small frown on your lips. He hated worrying you. “Please,” you whispered, “just tell me what happened.”

“You’re not going to like the answer, he replied as he squeezed your hand. 

“I’m also not going to like being in the dark.”

He simply sighed at your answer as he raked his brain on how to answer you without completely freaking you out. When he could come up with none, he looked into your eyes with another sigh before quietly answering you. 

“Sometimes, my…’customers’ get a little too harsh, and sometimes some of them like to…well they like to hurt me,” there, he said it. He dropped his gaze immediately after the words left his mouth and after he heard your sharp inhale. He didn’t want to see the sadness he knew he’d find in your eyes. Nor the pain, or pity, or any other emotion that wasn’t the usual happiness and love that shone through your eyes when you looked at him. 

“Oh, Finnick,” you whispered as you moved to hug him. His arms almost instinctively went around your waist as he hugged you back, and buried his face in the crook of your neck. 

He felt safe there, in the arms of the one person he knew would never hurt him. Never treat him as harshly as his “adoring lovers” as President Snow liked to call them. The only lover that ever really mattered to him was you. 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You quietly ask, rubbing a hand over his back. You wish you could take those bruises away. And with that, take away President Snow, and this cruel arrangement he forced the man you love into. It wasn’t fair. Such a golden, happy, caring person should never have to go through that. Not your sunshine of a man. Though, it makes sense Snow would treat Finnick so harshly. The sun melts snow, after all.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before pulling away from the hug. He moved his hands to your face, lightly cupping it as he looked into your eyes. “There’s nothing we can do to change it. I didn’t want you going crazy over something we have no control over,” he finished, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

Even when he was in pain, when any other person would think of themselves and what they were forced to endure, he was thinking about you. Thinking about how he wanted to spare you from worrying. You couldn’t decide if you wanted to kill him or kiss him stupid. 

“Do you need ice or something? For the bruises?” You ask as he shakes his head no, bringing you into another hug as he rests his chin on your shoulder. 

“I’m okay, angel,” he replies. “Though, I wouldn’t be opposed to some cuddling.” And with how much he did for you, how much he cared for you no matter what, cuddles seemed like the least you could do for him in return. You never minded cuddling with him anyway.