#finnick x male!reader

[theaawalker]

Something to Feel, Something Real [Finnick Odair Smut]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure,” you answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[boypied]

THE CUM-FILLED GAMES.

pairings: peeta mellark x male reader x finnick odair

summary: finnick and peeta are too pent up during the games, so they decide to use male reader to help release their horniness.

requested by: anonymous

warnings: SMUT, anal sex, threesome, spit roasting, double penetration, choking.

You flop your body down against the sand, watching the waves clash against the shield that's blocking it from coming into the section of the beach you're on, Finnick and Peeta sit down either side of you laying their weapons down almost simultaneously. "So what do you guys miss about the outside?" I ask them while I continue watching the waves clash against the forcefield, Peeta's face lights up when he comes up with an answer."I miss the bakery, " he says in a soft tone, causing you to smile slightly, "y'know what I miss?" Finnick says with a huge smirk on his face. He gets up and pulls off his grey skintight suit revealing his rock hard cock, "I miss sex." He says in a seductive tone.

"...and I need a good blowie now," he says as he gently slaps his cock as it springs back into place, your eyes widen but you're practically drooling at the thought of tasting his salty pre-cum. You slowly crawl across the beach to him, wrapping your lips around his perfectly pink tip, "mhm" you moan out as the taste of his pre-cum coats your mouth. He's all you can taste, and you aren't complaining. Peeta watches from afar, and he nibbles at his lip, "I'm not missing out on this," he mumbles to himself as he strips himself out of the skintight spandex revealing his bushy pubes and girthy cock.

Peeta makes his way over and the wet sound of your mouth taking every inch of Finnick's cock gets louder as he gets closer, Peeta leans down and gently pulls down the zip of your costume sliding it down revealing more and more of your naked body, "fuck" he mumbles to himself as your body gets revealed to him in all it's glory. The way your back arches as Finnick grips either side of your head and thrusts his cock to the back of your throat, his cock coated entirely in your saliva. "Best. Blowjob. Ever." Finnick groans out in between breathy moans.

Peeta gets down on his knees and cautiously leans closer to your exposed asshole. He gently opens up your cheeks as wide as they go so he can really dive into your boy-pussy, he's worried about hurting you, you can feel his hot breath against your hole so you wiggle your ass slightly pushing it back showing him how much you want it. Finnick continues to face fuck you, causing your cheeks to redden with each time your face gets pushed into his pubes. Peeta finally licks a wet strip up your hole causing your body to shiver from pleasure.

You whimper around Finnick's large cock as Peeta's tongue pushes through your tight muscle ring and into your hole, he gently pushes a finger in aswell having it run under his tongue. The feeling of your throat being bruised from a thick cock was incredible but add someone finger and tongue fucking your hole; you could've busted right then and there but you held off. Peeta leans away from your hole slightly lining up his cock and gently pushing it in, he grips onto your hips as his body pulsates slightly. Finnick blushes at the sight, his cock disappearing into your throat and also Peeta's cock disappearing into your hole.

"Look at the way his ass jiggles Peeta, it's mesmerising," Finnick coos out to Peeta as he picks up his pace as his groin slaps against your ass causing it to ripple. In the control room President Snow watches this all unfold, his cock hardening "if you'll excuse me...I need to use the bathroom" he says to a technician as he adjusts his cock leaving the room. Finnick groans before pulling his cock out of your mouth, "Peeta... stop for a moment and go sit by that tree" he says in an almost demanding tone but Peeta obliged cause why not.

Peeta adjusts himself slightly before getting comfortable, he begins to jerk off his cock while he waits for whatever Finnick has just come up with, he whispers something in your ear and you immediately begin to walk back over to Peeta you hover above Peeta's cock with your back against his body, you slide down causing Peeta to let out slutty submissive moans. You lean back, resting your body against Peeta, where he presses kisses all over your neck, Finnick stumbles over and lifts up your legs, resting them on his shoulder.

He lines up his cock with your already full hole and with one thrust his tip is making its way inside. Your hole stretching to accommodate the size of another cock was the best feeling you've ever felt, the curve of both their cocks was an ungodly pleasure. After a couple of moments of their cocks twitching and pulsating they both begin to buck their hips back and forth gently pushing against your sweet spot in one way or another.

"m-mhm!" You whimper out as the pleasure takes over your body, the feeling of Finnicks hands on your hands and Peeta's hands trailing up and down your chest before finally settling round your throat, he tightens slightly as he begins to sexually choke you out. You stick your tongue out as your hole gets pounded into a pulp, constantly hitting your sweet spot. Your stiff member rubbing against Peeta's perfect body.

"You close?" Peeta and Finnick say in sync, causing you to chuckle slightly before nodding your head, with a couple more double thrusts from Peeta and Finnick they unload their seed into your hole. Finnick puts his hand over your mouth as Peeta pumps your cock a couple more times before you spill your load all over his body. "M-MHM!" You moan against his hand. Finnick's body collapses onto your back, where he whispers sweet nothings into your ear while he gently nibbles your ear lobe. Peeta watches as he gently cups your face and leans up to kiss your lips, "fuck... round two?" You hispers to the two of them causing them to smirk.

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[applecrispy]

Oct. 2 ; Begging

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Male! Reader x Finnick Odair (The Hunger Games)

HEADS UP!

Second Kinktober prompt, set! Enjoy this drabble

Ended up being a bit sweeter and not too 'begging' as the prompt said, but hey! There's always another chance to re-write this after kinktober!

Also, ignore the fact I haven't posted day one yet ajdhkcjks I'll probably post it later since I'm a tad stuck on it.

And how out of practice I am in writing- but I swear, all my thirsts will (hopefully) get better overtime!

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Finnick moans, his hands claw at the kitchen counter top as his boyfriend pounds into him from behind. He aches a bit, but god it's amazing and worth it all.

He had teased (Y/n) earlier today, he was in the mood, and seems like (Y/n) was as well after having Finnick drop to his knees and suck him off from under their dinning table. He wouldn't admit it straight up, but Finnick has been itching for his lover's touch since a few days ago when (Y/n) had returned from his trip to District 13 to check in. The kiss they shared at the station, Finnick liked it a bit too much, maybe he missed (Y/n)'s lips against his, the gentle touch on his sides, how he didn’t push him-

"(Y/n)- baby, fuck!" Finnick chokes out, another moan leaving him.

His chest felt cold from being pressed against their marble counter, but (Y/n) simply continued to piston into him. A hand gently holding his thigh up to the side, granting him a new angle, and Finnick felt his legs shake, and at some point he's pinned to the counter. He can barely keep himself up on the floor, and (Y/n) seems to notice because Finnick yelps briefly as he's flipped over and he's now with his back to the counter, staring up at (Y/n) as he hikes his legs up. Now presented with a canvas, Finnick reaches up and wraps his arms around his boyfriend's back, moaning as he tries to bite the noises back by biting his bottom lip.

His hair is disheveled, messy, and not in the usual styled and seductive manner that his ex-stylists used to fix it into, but rather into something raw and honest. His fingers draw down (Y/n)'s back as he shudders and soon sputters on a noise and breath.

"Another- inside, please-" Finnick begs quietly, he doesn’t care how he aches faintly from the past three orgasms he's already had which have stolen all the air from him, he needs another load inside of him. One more.

(Y/n) smiles slightly, both love and pure unadulterated adoration, and he leans down to groan into Finnick's ear "You want another inside? And here I was thinking of pulling out and finishing all over your thighs instead... why so desperate?" He teases, and Finnick scoffs as much as he can before he breaks into a choppy whimper mixed with a moan "I- Oh right there... There! Nail right there!" He can't help but purr out, and when (Y/n)'s thrusts slow and intentionally miss, Finnick is digging his face involuntarily into (Y/n)'s neck "Please- please please... So good, please, inside. Another, right... right tHE-" his words are cut off and hit a high as he throws his head back, and if it weren't for the gentle hand on the back fo his head that stops the movement by catching his head and curling a hand into his hair, Finnick would've slammed his head open. But he's too lost to properly adore the action, instead he only lets out a heavy, and noisey high pitched moan.

(Y/n) had shifted his thrusts, and was now thoroughly fucking into him, right into his prostate as he had asked, and the tease just chuckles breathily.

"There?"

"Yes... Yes! Please inside, inside." His last few words mold into messy shapes and noises, still coherent in a sense, but debaunched with his ecstasy. He lets out another softer whimper, and Finnick swears this man is the only one who has been able to reduce him to these honest words, begs, and noises. He's a mess, but shit it's so nice.

It doesn't take too much longer, and (Y/n) gives a small tug to Finnick's hair, reeling his mind back to quickly ask for honest confirmation "Inside?" And Finnick can't help how he begs.

"YES! Inside, inside, please- please (Y/n), need it. Please, need to feel it, feel you-" and Finnick is cut off with a yelp and moan as his hips are grabbed and he's pulled down to be plush against (Y/n)'s hips. He shudders as a weak orgasm leaves him, untouched, oversensitive, and the feeling of being filled and pumped with a orgasm once more in him, Finnick lets the fingers he hadn’t noticed that dug down (Y/n)'s back fall lax.

He lets his expression drop, content as he bathes in the after glow, breathing in heavily as he lets out weak little noises. He gently holds onto (Y/n) as his partner seems just as breathless as he is, pulling back to smile down at him as Finnick feels his heart briefly flutter at how he looks at him.

"Seems like you've missed me." And Finnick groans in complaint and jokingly tries to shove (Y/n) away with a little tired grin on his own face "Oh piss off!" He scoffs out a playful laugh despite how breathless it sounds, quickly diving in to kiss (Y/n) once more in something sweeter.

Yeah, he had missed him.

[cece693]

My Safe Place (Finnick Odair x M! Reader)

Going back to my Hunger Games phase and not enough fics for male/gender neutral readers can be found for him. So, I aim to fix it :) Hope you enjoy!

Summary: Finnick was known for his conquests whenever he traveled to the Capital, however, you were his main client—a man who didn't exactly act like the rest of the Capital society.

tags: mention of sex working, Finnick deserves better, reader is a safe place for him, President Snow being a dick, reader is different, Annie (unfortunately) is dead

The arrangement between you and Finnick was dangerous, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was giving him some semblance of safety, a fleeting escape from the nightmare President Snow had trapped him in. You never liked interacting with people, much less in the manner Finnick’s arrangement with the Capitol required. But when the murmurs began—stories of the young victor's so-called "conquests" echoing in the opulent halls—you couldn’t ignore the tug in your chest.

You weren’t foolish. You knew how Snow operated. Finnick’s dazzling smile was just another weapon in the Capitol's arsenal, a weapon honed through coercion and manipulation. Then you overheard a conversation at a party: a woman bragging about "paying" to spend time with him. Her words were dripping with self-satisfaction, as though exploiting someone so clearly tormented was a badge of honor. It made your stomach churn.

It was easy to connect the dots. Too easy.

The first time you reached out to Finnick, it had been awkward. Not for him—he was all smooth confidence, his charm slipping into place like a second skin. But you? You couldn’t keep still, looking around the suite for cameras or hidden microphones. You didn’t trust the Capitol, and Finnick was bound to be under constant surveillance, his every move scrutinized.

Sensing your nervousness, Finnick took control of the situation, his practiced mask of seduction sliding into place. He began unbuttoning his shirt, moving toward you with a deliberate air. After all, wasn’t this why you’d invited him here? Another Capitol indulgence, another client eager to own a piece of him.

“No!” Your voice cut through the tension as you stepped back, your hand flying up to stop him. The disgust on your face was immediate and unfiltered.

Finnick froze, his hands mid-motion, and for a moment, genuine confusion flickered across his face. “Then what do you want?” he asked, clutching the throw you’d hastily handed him.

It had taken everything in you to hold his gaze. "A safe place. For you. No strings attached."

For a long, tense moment, Finnick didn’t respond. He studied you, his sea-green eyes narrowing slightly, as if trying to find the trap in your words. Then, to your surprise, he laughed—a bitter, hollow sound that didn’t suit him at all.

"Safe places don’t exist in the Capitol."

"Maybe not," you admitted. "But I can try."

From then on, it became a routine. You’d send the payment—an obscene amount, just enough to satisfy the Capitol’s watchful eye—and Finnick would arrive at your apartment late at night. He always used the private entrance to avoid prying eyes. At first, neither of you talked much. Finnick would sit stiffly on the edge of your luxurious couch, his shoulders tense, his hands fidgeting with the sea-green pendant around his neck.

You ignored his discomfort, going about your nightly routine as though he wasn’t there. You’d clean the dishes left on the counter, read a book with a steaming cup of tea, or sometimes sit at your piano and let your fingers wander across the keys. You never pressed him to talk, never demanded his attention. You simply let him exist in the quiet safety of your home.

When the time was up, Finnick would stand, his expression often a mix of confusion and gratitude, before slipping out the same way he came.

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

Months into the arrangement, Finnick began to open up. At first, he stuck to safe topics: the ocean breeze in District 4, the salty tang of the air, the sound of the waves crashing against the rocky shore. His words painted a vivid picture of home, a place you could tell he missed deeply.

You didn’t press him for more, content to let him share whatever pieces of himself he felt comfortable giving. But then, one evening, as you were reading, Finnick spoke a name that hung heavy in the air. “Annie.” The sound of her name made him freeze for a moment, as though he hadn’t meant to say it aloud. You looked up from your book, startled by the weight in his tone but careful not to push. You simply set the book down and waited.

Finnick’s gaze fell to the pendant he always wore, his fingers tracing the smooth surface of the shell. “She was my first love,” he said quietly. “She was different from everyone else. Quiet, kind, but strong in a way most people didn’t see. She didn’t care about the Games or the Capitol. She only cared about people.”

The smile faded from his lips, replaced by a shadow of grief. “But Snow couldn’t allow that, could he? He couldn’t let me have something that made me resist.”

Finnick’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the pendant, his entire frame trembling with suppressed rage and sorrow. “He killed her,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “It wasn’t quick, and it wasn’t painless. He made sure I knew every detail, made sure I understood that her death was my fault."

You watched as his grief and anger boiled over. With a sharp, guttural sound of frustration, Finnick stood abruptly, grabbing a vase from a nearby table. Without hesitation, he flung it at the wall, the porcelain shattering into a million jagged pieces. The crash echoed through the room, but you didn’t flinch.

Finnick’s chest heaved as he stood there amidst the broken shards, his tear-streaked face turned toward you. The raw vulnerability in his sea-green eyes was almost too much to bear. His lip quivered as though he was fighting a battle within himself, one final attempt to keep the walls he’d built intact.

But then, those walls crumbled.

Without warning, Finnick took a shaky step forward and collapsed to his knees before you. His head fell into your lap, his arms wrapping loosely around your legs as though anchoring himself to something—anything—real. The dam inside him burst, and his sobs came in great, shuddering waves, his entire body trembling with the force of his anguish.

You froze for a moment, startled by the intensity of his collapse, but quickly recovered. Gently, you rested a hand on his head, your fingers threading through his golden tousled hair in slow, soothing motions. Your other hand settled lightly on his back, offering a steady, grounding presence.

“It’s okay,” you murmured, your voice soft but firm. “Let it out, Finnick. You’re safe here.”

His sobs grew louder, his pain pouring out in every ragged breath, every muffled cry against your knees. His tears soaked through the fabric of your pants, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was being there for him, letting him release the emotions he’d kept locked away for so long.

“I couldn’t save her,” he choked out, his voice muffled against you. “I couldn’t…I wasn’t enough.”

“Finnick, stop,” you said gently, your voice breaking with emotion. “You were enough. You loved her, and that was more than enough. What happened to Annie wasn’t your fault. Snow…Snow took her because he’s a monster, not because of anything you did.”

He didn’t respond, but his grip on your legs tightened, his trembling body pressing closer against you. You continued to stroke his hair, murmuring soft reassurances, letting him pour his heart out in the safety of your presence. As the minutes passed, his sobs began to subside, the storm of emotions giving way to quiet, exhausted tears. His breathing slowed, though his face remained buried against your knees, as if he couldn’t bear to let go just yet.

“Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely, the words barely audible, yet they carried the weight of his gratitude and trust.

From that moment, something fragile yet beautiful began to bloom between you. Finnick grew comfortable in your space, his presence no longer guarded or wary. He started accepting small gestures of care—a cup of tea, a plate of fresh fruit—with a smile that wasn’t the polished charm he wore in public, but something tender and genuine.

His smiles were rare but transformative, softening his features in a way that felt almost sacred. It wasn’t the grin of a Capitol heartthrob or a victor playing his part. It was Finnick. The real Finnick. And it was in those moments you saw him as the man he was, not the mask he was forced to wear.

Finnick’s feelings for you deepened with every visit. At first, it was subtle: the way his eyes lingered on you a moment longer than necessary, the way his laughter grew warmer and more frequent when you were around. But over time, it became undeniable.

He found excuses to stay longer, to ask you questions about yourself—your favorite books, your childhood memories, your thoughts on the world beyond the Capitol. His curiosity was genuine, his attention focused solely on you, as though you were the one piece of sanity in his life.

And you noticed. Of course, you noticed. You weren’t blind to the way his gaze softened when it met yours, the way his voice grew quieter when he spoke your name. You weren’t stupid—you knew what it meant.

But you didn’t give in.

It wasn’t that you didn’t feel the same way. You did. Finnick had become more than a presence in your life; he had become someone you cared about deeply, someone you wanted to protect, someone whose laughter felt like sunlight breaking through a storm. But you didn’t want him to think that was all you were after. You didn’t want him to believe, even for a moment, that your care for him was tied to his charm or his body or any of the things the Capitol exploited. Finnick deserved better than that.

So you kept your distance, at least emotionally. You treated him as you always had—with quiet kindness and unwavering respect. Even as your heart ached to reach out, to tell him how much he mattered to you, you held back. Because Finnick’s worth was so much more than he realized, and you refused to let him think otherwise.

And then the 75th Hunger Games was announced.

The moment the words left President Snow’s lips—this year, the tributes shall be reaped from the existing pool of victors—you felt your chest tighten. You knew what it meant. Finnick would be going back into the arena.

When his name was called at the reaping, you watched from your apartment, your hands trembling as you gripped the armrest of your chair. Finnick’s face was calm, but you knew the storm that raged beneath the surface. You knew him too well to be fooled by the mask.

Days later, during the interviews, you sat in the same chair, your eyes glued to the television. The Capitol was abuzz with excitement, the crowd roaring with approval as Caesar Flickerman welcomed the victors one by one. And then it was Finnick’s turn. He stepped onto the stage, his signature charm firmly in place. The audience adored him, their cheers deafening as he waved and smiled. But when Caesar asked him the question that had been on everyone’s lips—is there someone special he's fighting for?—something shifted.

Finnick’s expression softened, the mask slipping just enough to reveal the man beneath. “There is,” he said simply, his voice steady but filled with emotion. The crowd erupted in gasps and murmurs, looking at each other as if he was speaking about one of them, but Finnick ignored them. "And I would like to tell them something, if you don't mind."

Caesar, ever the showman, gestured grandly for him to proceed but not before hushing the crowd.

"Though I cannot promise forever, Though the storms still rage around me, I leave my heart to you, And hope you’ll remember me kindly."

No one else knew who the poem was for. But you did.

And in that moment, it was both everything and not nearly enough.

[oweninadaydream]

𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐩𝐭 𝟏 || 𝐅.𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 : Say Don't Go (Taylor's version) (From The Vault) or 4 times you say 'I love you' and Finnick says nothing back.

𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 : Finnick Odair x reader

𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽 : 2K

𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼 : angst/fluffy ending (in part 2), (not really) unrequited love?, insecure reader, jealousy, TW: sexual exploitation (second story).

𝓪/𝓷 : This is my first time writing for Finnick and I'm so exited for you guys to read it!!! Hope you enjoy this fic :) Part two is already posted!!! You can find it here. If there are any mistakes I'm sorry , English is not my first language.

𝟣. 𝒟𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝑒 

The quietness of the night was only being disturbed by the sound of crickets and mockingbirds. The cold breeze was the only thing keeping you awake. Well, that and Finnick. You were seated next to him on the porch of your house which was right next to his. Three years had passed since you won the 67th Hunger Games and you still weren't used to the gloomy sight that was Victors Village, especially not at night, when the solitude and darkness of the streets made you remember things you thought (or hoped) were long gone in your memory but that deep down you knew would always haunt you, until the day you died.

Finnick scooted closer in order to share his blanket with you "Stop being so prideful, I can see you shaking" he scolded you for being so stubborn. " I did it on purpose, I just wanted to make you cuddle me" you joked, as it was normal in your friendship.

He had been your mentor the year you were reaped , you got along well but didn't become that close then. You knew that those were his second games as a mentor and you could feel that he wasn't emotionally prepared to bond with you just to see you die days later. Still, he prepared you the best way he knew and was always kind towards you. After you emerged victorious from that nightmare, the Capitol decided to profit off of your charm ; you were too young, scared and lost, just like Finnick once had been (and still was). That's when he took you under his wing , and you would forever feel grateful for that.

He was your rock, your light within the dark, your safe person and he saw you as his happy place, someone he could rely on, his partner in crime and the person with whom he shared his deepest thoughts, his dreams, his nightmares and hopes for an utopian future. Finding each other seemed something simply destined to be. You needed each other in ways that no one else could wrap their head around.

Despite having that special and heartwarming relationship with him, you wanted more. You were utterly and madly in love with him. Your infatuation had begun during training and only grew stronger after he approached you after the games. The thing between you was so fragile, so special that you had never thought of confessing your love. The possibility of driving him away caused your heart a kind of ache worse than any stab received back in the Arena. Your feelings felt selfish, how could you want more? Your greedy passion would ruin everything (or so you thought), so you settled for what you had.

On the inside, you knew he wasn't the kind of man that would dismiss your feelings rudely and that he would continue to consider you his friend , but it just wouldn't be the same, and seeing your dynamic change in such a way would be a more fatal fate than dying at the games.

" The way they're shining, how beautiful" he quietly mumbled loud enough for you to hear. "I know, the stars look unreal tonight" you agreed while staring completely mesmerized to the night sky. "I was looking at your eyes" you turned to see that he wasn't in fact stargazing like you were. You were out of words. He was usually flirty and he never ran out of lovely words to dedicate to you, but you still reacted as if it were the first time. "Charming as always, dear" you replied as you rested your head on his chest. He moved so you could be more comfortable and you wanted to stop time at that exact moment.

" Thank you for always being there for me" he said in a more serious tone. " You know that I'd do anything for you. Are you okay? Where is this coming from?" you asked with a worried frown adorning your face. "These past few days apart have been rough and it made me appreciate you more" he confessed timidly. How privileged were you to be able to see him in his most vulnerable state. The moon, his hands holding yours, the heat you felt on your face, it was simply too much.

"FINNICK!" a blood-curdling scream came on the scene, startling you both. He quickly stood, as he had already identified the person behind such a yell. "ANNIE?!?!? WHAT'S WRONG?!?!?"

Annie was the victor of the last Hunger Games. She had been mentored by Finnick just like you, but unlike with you, Finnick had rapidly grown fond of her ever since they first met. You knew you shouldn't have thought too much of it, but your mind was your worst enemy. You couldn't stop yourself from imagining a very near future where he chose her over you , leaving you behind and all alone in this world. You liked her : she was kind, delicate but strong and very beautiful, but for those very same reasons you were becoming jealous of her and her chances of getting together with your best friend.

Annie appeared in front of your porch wrapped in a blanket and trembling while sobbing. " They're gonna get me" "Hey hey Annie c'mon, no one's gonna hurt you anymore, you know I'll make sure of it" How caring was Finnick, it was just natural for him to become the protector in every situation. "O-okay" Annie said with little confidence in her voice "Would you stay with me tonight? I had a really bad nightmare" her doe eyes had the reflection of the full moon in them ; it truly was a breath-stealing sight "Sure thing darling, I'll be there in a second, wait for me at home, all right? It's okay " his soothing voiced and calmed her down enough to return to her house by herself.

He turned around to look at you "I'm sorry, I have to go" "I know, Finnick, it's okay" you assured him, even though you were shocked by the term of endearment used for her, as it took Finnick quite a while to refer to you as sweetheart, honey or your favorite, love.

What was wrong with you? That poor girl had just got out of the games and was terrified out of her mind after dreaming about a traumatic experience she had recently been through (just like you did in you day) and the only thing you could think about was how jealous you were because she was being comforted by Finnick in such an intimate and caring way, because she had his full attention and she would be the one lured to sleep by his calloused hands running through her hair that night. You were not thinking logically and you lost control of your actions.

"Hey" you shouted to catch his attention, as he had already begun to leave towards Annie's house "I love you Finn, I just wanted you to know" you confessed as your froze in place . You told each other how much you loved each other all the time, but it had never been like this : not under that light, not with all that sentiment in your eyes and definitely not with such a voice tone. It was clearly a confession and you could't believe what you had just done.

He stared and smiled, transmitting you his appreciation for such kind words and he continued the way to his destination. Oh fuck. Fuck Fuck Fuck. He hadn't interpreted your words as you spilling your guts about your feelings, it was just a friendly 'I love you' to him. Annie was perfect for him, you could never give him that sweet innocent love you believed Finnick deserved. The anxiety quickly transformed into anguish and you went back inside to prepare yourself for a night full of tears and stupid hypothetical scenarios about them. About him.

𝟤. 𝐼𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒

Looking around the enormous gardens you couldn't spot a single person you genuinely cared about. This Capitol party, as the previous ones, were filled with members of high society that gazed at you and the rest of victors as if you were exotic wild animals.

Reaching your secret hiding spot, you felt yourself letting your guard down. Even if distracted, you noticed the warm hand on your shoulder. You spun on your heels to identify the person behind that unexpected and yet comforting touch. Of course, Finnick Odair. Your confident, your best friend, your protector and the love of your life (role that's he's unaware of). "Shit Finnick, don't do that!" you playfully reprimanded him while smacking his chest. He pretended to be hurting but ended up laughing at your little tantrum.

"Wow, Cinna has outdone himself, you look charming my dear" he said as he gently took your hand to make you spin and admire the fine clothes you were dressed in that evening. Based on the pink blush that adorned his cheeks you quickly arrived to the conclusion that he was far from being sober and you didn't blame him, these events were unbearable if not intoxicated. "You're not bad yourself, Odair" .

The two of you danced, talked, drank more than you'd be able to remember the next day and flirted, a lot. Your heart couldn't take one more touch nor one more compliment from this man . "There's something you're not telling me, I can see it in your pretty face" he commented while hugging you from behind. He'd always known everything about you, so that remark was not surprising. Still, your heart started beating at an alarming speed and you felt the sweat coming out from your shaky hands.

What if you told him? Based on the spark in his eyes during the party you could only assume he was at least interested in you as more than a friend. You were intoxicated and wrapped between his arms, what if you just told him? "I... I love... you..." you mumbled while closing your eyes as if that would make you invisible to him. The deafening silence brought out your worst fear : rejection. No, no, no, this couldn't be happening. You've fucked up real bad this time. You turned around to face him and get this done as fast as possible.

That's when you realized : he hadn't heard you confessing your most cherished secret. You had an opportunity to go back in time, to act as if nothing had happened. You couldn't risk losing him. You locked eyes with him and Finnick tilted his head to the side in drunken confusion as he hadn't caught on to what you had so shyly whispered. Smiling sympathetically you shook your head as if to not give importance to what had been previously said. He didn't give too much though to your dismissive answer. "Would you like another drink, love?" His characteristic smirk accompanied the proposal perfectly, inviting you to give in ; as always, you couldn't deny him anything.

Before you had the chance to approach the drinks table , one of Finnick's regular clients grabbed him by the waist and whispered something into his right ear. His eyes suddenly darkened and his once relaxed features stiffened significantly. You already knew what was about to happen. You were no stranger to the services President Snow forced him to provide to Panem's elite. In fact, you were another of the poor miserable souls in charge of satisfying every desire of anyone who was wealthy enough to afford the luxury of laying with a victor.

Telling the wealthy woman to wait at their usual meeting place, he shook her off. Finnick approached you, feeling guilty and not wanting to part from your side. After a single chaste kiss on your left cheek, he left in the same direction as his client. You let out a shaky breath you didn't know you were holding and tried to prevent the tears from falling. As common as this was, it never got easier for neither of you.

Later that night you found yourself in a similar position as Finnick. The man caressing your body didn't pay any attention to the way you were spacing out and you felt thankful for that. Your mind was elsewhere, replaying over and over again the moment you almost told Finnick how in love you were with him and wondering what would have happened if you had had the courage to repeat those three words just a little bit louder . But it doesn't matter, not anymore. He was drunk and so were you, nothing sincere would have come out of his mouth at that time and you highly doubt sober him would have corresponded your feelings anyway. If only things were different.

[bumblesimagines]

nice bedhead.

why don't you join me in the shower?

- Finnick Odair

nice bedhead.

why don't you join me in the shower?

i really like the plot and backstory for this... hm.

Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs, GN!Reader

You gazed at the window from the comfort of the bed, listening to the comforting sound of the ocean waves rolling in and inhaling the salty air wafting in from the open window. You enjoyed sleeping with the window open at night ever since you won the 68th Hunger Games. There was always a second of panic in the mornings. A split moment when your body awoke from a long night filled with nightmares and your brain hadn't yet caught up with your surroundings. That split second of dread and fear that coming home had been a dream and you were still in the arena always made your heart skip a beat. But then the sea breeze would seep in and fill your nose with the smell of home. 

Your eyes dragged away from the window when the muscular arms around your waist tightened and a nose buried itself in your neck. You were pulled closer into a bare chest and Finnick's face buried further into the nape of your neck, your ears picking up on the shakey exhale that left his lips. His soft bronze curls tickled your cheek but you remained still, giving him time to fully awaken and gain awareness of his surroundings. He needed his reminder too.

You'd known Finnick as many things throughout your life. He'd been the neighbor's son who'd bring over the day's catch whenever your father fell ill. He'd been the boy in your class who had everyone wanting to be his friend with his charming smile and then had everyone on the edge of their seats when he'd been reaped into the 65th games. And finally, he became your fellow Victor when you returned home from your own agonizing time in the games. But even then, even with such close history as neighbors and former classmates, you scarcely called him a good friend. 

You had always held Finnick at arm's length. He was the sweet pretty neighbor who lived across the stone path, the popular classmate whose eyes never strayed far from you, the fourteen-year-old who'd survived the games and embraced you the moment he saw you as if frightened he'd never get to see you again. His behavior had always been strange. With a flock of followers and admirers always at his feet, he'd always been eager to befriend you, not that you ever allowed it. Your parents laughed about it, cooing to give the boy a chance, that he meant well and only wanted a friend. Your teachers did similarly but you couldn't shake off the envious looks when Finnick sat beside you during lunch or when his hand would be the first to raise when you needed a sparring partner.

It was strange. He was strange.

You still remembered how his face paled when your name was pulled from the bowl. The way he avoided being in your presence during your stay in the Capitol and left Mags to solely train you. The way he whispered in your ear all the weaknesses your district partner had before you had to leave for the arena. The look of relief on his face when you returned that promptly fell when you lashed out at everyone and anyone who tried to help. But he stuck by. Always lingering, always checking up on you. Until you finally had enough of the nightmares and wanted an escape for the night. What was supposed to be a one-time thing turned into a common occurrence when you or Finnick wanted to forget about the games or the Capitol.

So, there you were. With Finnick Odair in your bed.

"How'd you sleep?" He asked softly into your ear, voice hoarse and still soaked in exhaustion. His arms remained around you, holding you closely but not constricting you. Finnick was a quick learner. One of the many reasons he'd always been top of the class. His observant eyes and quick mind had taught him how to handle you, how to ensure you wouldn't lock him out of your life again. 

"Fine." You responded in a murmur and shifted around in his arms to face him. He leaned back slightly for wiggle room before pressing himself against you once again and pressing a quick peck to your forehead. Who knew an Odair could be so clingy? Your eyes lifted to his tousled locks. It suited him better than the pristine, perfectly combed style. "Nice bedhead."

He made a noise of amusement and moved his hand up to your face, pressing his palm against your cheek and running his thumb over your skin. He smiled, a genuine dorky smile unlike the flirtatious one he put on for the people of the Capitol, and bumped his nose against yours. "Why don't you join me in the shower?"

"Because I know you'll start something you'll want to finish in bed." Your answer made him snort and he closed the distance to properly kiss you. He smiled against your lips and rolled on top of you, pushing himself up onto his forearms and giving you a cheeky grin. 

"Then I'll start something in bed we can finish in the shower."

[whillywisp]

Seeing a lot of talks about finnick as a dad/doting husband during pregnancy on the fyp and I must contribute to the conversation 🌱 (warnings: it's long and so fluffy you're gonna die). Part 1.

Part 2 ☁︎

The thing about Finnick is that he has a lot of love to give to anyone who would take it. His heart is overflowing with it, shining cerulean with it. So of course fatherhood came to him as easily as breathing—

Wrong. Have you seen that walking talking ball of anxiety, love and autism?

The day you tell him you're pregnant he passes the fuck out. On the floor. And when he wakes up he cries for an hour straight, thanking you enough times with kisses pressed into every inch of your skin he could reach that the words don't even sound like English anymore. He's so grateful, so fucking grateful and terrified but above all, completely and irrevocably in love with you.

Throughout the pregnancy, he's as paranoid as it gets to the point you have to beg him to please leave you alone and no, Finnick the baby won't be hurt if i eat too fast please breathe and let me breathe but it's all from a place of love. He's lost too much, almost everything in his life. The few people he could still keep were precious to him and he was not going to let any of them forget that least of all his babies. Or baby.

Finnick talks to the baby a lot. Asking the most bizarre question to your bump as if he actually expected a tiny, baby's voice to answer him. He was constantly on about something new and his favourite topic to talk about was whatever his new hyperfixation was and you just nodded and smiled because of course the baby wants to know how to do an alpine stitch! But it was so endearing and relieving to see him finally be happy, finally find a purpose, even if it was to just talk nonstop to your belly. He deserves this, these little pockets of happiness.

And one of his greatest happiness was taking care of you. Circling back to the fact that he starts hyperventilating when his lover so much as sneezes too hard, the hellscape that was pregnancy scared him. No, fuck it, it terrified him. So he did what he always did and loved to do and banned you from anything and everything that needed physical exertion. Chores of any kind were out of order. You were on a healthy diet of four meals a day and of course they included all your cravings that he always presented to you no questions asked thank you very much and you had to take naps, multiple of them, all with his presence as a requirement (you were sure those were just an excuse to cuddle you but you would rather take up another round of hunger games than call him out on it). He attended every appointment, had an alarm set for all the prenatal meds, and always a kiss for the belly and your lips just so you knew that this was it for him. You and your baby were the very centre of his universe and this was him orbiting you both. And you couldn't help but be grateful that you had him to love and cherish just as he did you.

And your favourite way of telling him you loved him was letting him take control over the one thing you knew he loved: baby shopping. With all due respect, this is the type of guy who bought baby shoes when he was eighteen with no baby in sight because look at how tiny this is it's so cute *big sparkly green eyes.* But it's particularly endearing watching him waltz around the store, arms full of onesies and plushies and you kind of just stand there, unable to do anything because what the fuck were you supposed to do at nine months pregnant and married to a man who you *checks notes* gifted a day where he could buy anything he wanted as a birthday present?

I promise you the answer was not 'go into an early labour the second he dumped the shopping bags in the living room' but who am I to say anything?

The baby coming two whole weeks early did not sit well with his anxiety. He was a mess, a complete and utter mess but he was also the most precious angel on this planet so seeing him holding back tears of fear so he could be there for you and hold you tight, so tight, because he was scared he would lose you broke your heart too. While the pain of the labour was bad, knowing he was close, holding you tight as he pressed gentle kisses everywhere, to cater to everything you needed, was enough to realise, he was the one. And you were going to fight through hell for him.

Such a wretched thing, love, you thought to yourself as you felt him shake beside you through the pain and haze, to ask you to hope against hope that the strain on your strength and your fading string of fate would persevere despite it all.

But you did. You survived and so did your precious little baby girl, and so did the last pieces of Finnick's soul, despite it all.

The first time he holds his tiny, tiny baby in his arms, something in his brain just clicks (or maybe his frontal lobe was finally fully developed because of course his baby picked the day before his birthday to make her own entry on planet earth) but whatever it was, it was perfect. His entire world narrowed down to the squirming little angel in his arms and he couldn't help but feel his heart leave his chest for the second time in his life to become hers. She fit right into the crook of his arms, the space in his neck. She fit into his life like another piece of puzzle that he never knew he was look for.

She was his little angel, his little girl. The person he never knew he fought through whole wars for but now, holding her against his chest as he watched you both sleep, he knew this is what he was meant to do. To love, to love, to love. For the sake of it. Simply because he could. Simply because he was alive and it was good enough reason to love with his entire being.

Part 1 because I don't exactly know if you people will like it enough to want more.

[undercoveravenger]

Rising Tides

Pairing: Siren!Finnick Odair x Male!Reader

Requested: Yes

Request: “Siren finnick odair trying to enchant the reader with his song and beautiful muscles but can’t get it. Take the story whatever direction you want”

A/N: Happy Spooky Month! This is post #2 of my Spooky Month writing event - #3 will be launching on Tuesday, October 17th. Hope you enjoy!

-----

Throughout Finnick’s years he’d seen the other sirens of his pod pick off humans with ease, using their stunning looks and alluring voices to draw their prey below the inky waves of the sea. The human’s mistake dooming them to be torn apart by the pod, sirens ripping and tearing the human apart until the wisps of blood in the water is all that remains of them.

He’d doubted he would have any issues when his turn for the Hunt arose- he’d grown up knowing he was beautiful, with fins and scales the same cool seafoam color as his eyes and hair that shone almost golden. He had learned how to be charming, to play coy, and to use his looks to draw people in. He hadn’t learned how to deal with someone like you.

Finnick had known you would be his prey as soon as he saw you, a sharp pain seizing in his chest when he saw you walking along the seaside edge of your district, picking at bits of seaglass and shells absently as you meandered along the sand. He’d been transfixed by the way the sinking sun made your skin glow, the soft look in your eyes as you looked out over the waves reminding him a bit of himself and his family. 

He hadn’t been quick enough to sing for you that day, too distracted by you to remember how to string notes and words and melodies together before you wandered back up the beach and into town, but he had plenty of other chances. Apparently you were no stranger to the beach, making it a nightly habit to stroll down the sand, watching over the waves and examining the small treasures brought up by the current. Sometimes you were joined by one or two others, but Finnick could never really bring himself to pay them any mind, fixated on you the same way he always was.

He’d tried to sing for you on one of the evenings that you wandered the beach alone, voice echoing quietly over the low rush of the waves coming and going, smooth and soft and sultry just the way he’d been taught. Like he had expected, you perked up at the sound of his song, taking a thoughtless step closer to the waves lapping at the shore before seeming to snap yourself out of his spell, turning swiftly on your heel and making your way home with your hands clasped over your ears to block out his voice. For the first time, Finnick doubted himself. Was his voice not as alluring as he’d been told? What if you didn’t like his song? Was he not perfect enough to draw you in? Would his pod think him a failure?

His doubts gnawed at him further when you continued to flee from him when you heard his voice, and further still when he had laid himself out along a large rock protruding from the water so you could get a good look at the way the light gleamed off his muscles and still turned away from him.

He got lucky one day though, arriving at the shore just in time to see you set off in a small boat - something he’d heard you call a ‘kayak’- with several of your friends paddling off ahead of you in their own small crafts. He smiled a bit to himself as he heard a laugh escape you, slipping soundlessly back into the water and darting swiftly after you, tail propelling him effortlessly through the water in pursuit of his prey.

With your friends’ head start, it was pretty easy for him to separate you from them, waiting until they had rounded the edge of the bay before latching onto the small handle at the front of your kayak and tugging you further out to sea. You had scrambled to try to paddle back toward the bay and to your friends, but Finnick was stronger than you. He was faster. Built to cut through water without faltering. He was an apex predator.

Eventually Finnick deemed that he had you far enough from shore that you could no longer ignore him, releasing his hold on your tow line and moving to circle your boat, watching you curiously from just below the surface of the water. A laugh bubbled out of him at the way you twisted sharply in your boat to keep your eyes fixed on him and then having to scramble to right yourself when the sudden movement threatened to overbalance you.

He surfaced right beside the kayak, clawed hands gripping tight to the edge of the kayak, just beside your own. Finnick does his best not to put too much weight on the plastic vessel, knowing he could tip it easily and not wanting to scare you more than he already had. He wasn’t sure when his fixation on you had shifted from hunger to something so much softer but he didn’t want you to fear him. He didn’t want to hurt you, he just wanted- Well. 

He just wanted you.

He opens his mouth and for a moment he is torn between singing and speaking to you. There is a split second when he thinks about how easy it’d be to tip you out of the boat, to drag you beneath the waves and present you to his family like he was supposed to. He thinks about it for longer than he should’ve, but he knows he can’t. 

“Why do you keep running away?” He finally forces out, words twisted and strange on his tongue without the saccharine sweetness he’d been taught to use. “Why wouldn’t you look at me? Why did you leave when I called for you?”

You are visibly shocked by the way he looks at you and he knows it must seem strange, to see a predator like him begging at your side like a love-struck dolphin. 

“Because you’re going to kill me,” you say simply, edging back in your kayak despite there not being far to go. “I’ve heard the stories about your kind. If I got too close-”

Finnick’s brows furrow as he looks up at you, “Was.” he says, releasing your boat in favor of swimming slow circles around you. “Not anymore.” He tips his head back, studying the way the clouds drifted in front of the sun. 

“So you’re… not trying to kill me?” you ask cautiously, eyes not wavering from Finnick even as he started to preen at the attention.

Finnick laughs, tipping his head to look at you and flicking water at you with the fluke of his tail. “No, not anymore.” He dips under the water, reemerging on the other side of the kayak and propping his head up on the edge of it, studying you intently. “I should, if you listen to what my family says, but I don't want to. You’re… interesting." 

He can tell you're really not sure what to make of that, but his heart jumps in his chest at the hesitant smile you give him in return.

"Swim with me?" The words escape Finnick before he can catch them, coming out breathy and desperate in a way he'd never expected to find himself sounding. He rushes to continue before he can consider the weight of what he'd asked you to do, the way he might brush against you or his tail might curl around your legs and the way he might get a look at you in something less… covering… than your usual clothes if you agreed to swim with him. "Maybe not now," he amends, eyes dropping sharply to where one of his pointed claws taps out a rhythm on the thin plastic of the kayak. "You don't trust me yet and I don't blame you. But maybe meet me tomorrow? Give me a chance?"

Finnick could see the way you jerk up straighter in your seat and your grip on your paddle shifts as you pick up on the sound of your friends calling for you. He's not sure if your answer is just an attempt to shoo him off in time to get back to your friends or to keep them from seeing him or just something you said without thinking, but the second that yes escapes you he's pushing himself up out of the water to press a sea-salty kiss to your cheek and promising to meet you at the beach at sunset the next day. 

He dives then, submerging himself well below the waves and trailing slowly after you until he's sure you and your friends made it back to the beach and then watching for just a bit longer as you disappear out of view before beginning to meander back to the labyrinth of sea caves his pod calls home.

Sure, Finnick isn’t sure if you’ll actually show up, but for the first time in weeks, his confidence has been restored and his charm feels as secure as ever. He’s definitely going against his pod pursuing you like this, but with his luck rising with the tides, he can’t bring himself to care, not with someone like you at stake.

[bigfan-fanfic]

Cracked but Unbroken (Capitol!Reader x Finnick Odair)

does it count as a request if I'm begging for more Finnick and capital reader?

Finnick finds it hard to cope with the fact that almost legally, you own him, but he loves you.

You've sacrificed a lot to protect him, and Finnick can't shake the idea that at some point, you'll want to collect on that debt.

It's the moment that you provide him with a room in your place. A room with a door that can be locked from the inside.

Finnick tests it, and something just rocks him to the core.

You've given him the opportunity to keep you out. To protect himself.

And even if it's largely symbolic, the gesture is not lost on him.

You've had food delivered to your penthouse, and Finnick emerges to join you.

It hurts too much to thank you for thinking of him, for seeing him not as a Victor but as a fragile person without a scrap of comfort and giving him something of his own, so instead he just gathers up several dishes and invites you into his space, locking the door behind you.

You follow him, and he wordlessly pulls you close, and you eat with your hands, sitting on the floor, blankets around you.

Finnick laughs at your obvious lack of experience eating like this and feeds you instead.

Not in a sexy way, he's not even thinking of that- he's literally just helping you so you stop dropping food back on your plate and pouting adorably.

Finnick talks softly to you, not about anything in particular, but you love his voice and how he sounds when he's not worrying.

The conversation lulls when you finish eating. Finnick is just holding you in his lap, your back against his chest.

The trust you've shown him. The care you've given. Finnick is unsure of whether he wants to protect you or accept you as his protector.

For now, it's both. He holds you tight when you try to move.

"Don't go."

You hold his arms. "I won't."

He pulls you onto the bed, and just holds you.

You've slept in the same bed together before, but never so intimately.

He doesn't seem to know what to do besides hold you, so his lips find their way to your neck.

"Finnick... you don't have to-"

"I want to." He interrupts, softly biting your neck. "Now hush. Let me... let me kiss you."

"Anything you want," you breathe.

He holds you tight, his arms pinning yours - protection? restraint? lust? And resumes kissing your neck.

"I want you," he growls. "But... not like I've had it. I want... I don't want. I..."

"Go ahead." you soothe. "Whatever you'd like. However you like."

There's no more words that night, but you two become closer than you've ever been...

[luxbub]

100% finnick would massage your feet and your shoulders and he’s GOOD at it

I cant stop thinking about that side of finnick, i mean he is the king of massages!!

And especially after a stressful day and you come home as if like the whole world is weighing on your shoulders, finnick would massage you SO GOOD. He just can’t help it, with your lips in a little frown and slumped shoulders, he just has to do something about it.

So he sits you both down on the couch, gently pulls your legs into his lap and starts kneading the skin on your feet. He slowly trails his hands higher and higher up to your calf and something about his hands working at the tension in your legs makes you whimper at his touch.

Maybe some time after, you would turn to lay on your stomach and finnick’s thighs would go on either side of your hips, as his hands start trailing across the taunt muscles of your back, the tension melting away.

[mlmfantasywrites]

Rules:

- I only write for male reader, and I only write for male character’s

- I write for most kinks and I do angst, smut, and fluff.

- I’m not really into Dom reader and I’m better at writing bttm sub reader and Dom top character so keep that in mind.

Some of the character’s I write for include:

Luke Castellan (PJO)

Scot McCall (teen wolf)

Zed Necrodopolis (zombies)

Wally Clark (school spirits)

Milo manheim

Nate Jacob’s (euphoria)

Jacob Cutos (the quarry)

Vinnie hacker

Noah Beck

Jacob Day

Charlie Bushnell

John B (outer banks)

Rare Cameron (outer banks)

JJ Maybank (outer banks)

Trevor Wagner

Joe Bartolozzi

Finn Hudson (glee)

Blaine Anderson (glee)

Sam Evans (glee)

Billy Loomis (scream)

Ethan Landry (scream)

Chad Meeks (scream)

Finnick Odair (hunger games)

Peeta Melark (hunger games)

Bellamy Blake (the 100)

Sean Anderson (journey 2 the mysterious island)

And any more! Feel free to ask if you don’t see someone listed.

[supercap2319]

Y/N rubbed his horse’s face in comfort, trying not to attract attention to himself from the other past winners of the Hunger Games. It doesn’t work so well. “Y/N.” The young man turned his head and was met with Finnick Odair’s sea green eyes. They’re possibly the greenest eyes that Y/N has ever seen. Greener than grass or the leaves in the trees. “Hello, Finnick. Or is it Mr. Odair?”

He chuckles and gets closer to him, tossing a sugar cube from his left hand and into his right. “Do you want a sugar cube?” He has his hand sticking out in offering, but Y/N doesn’t take it. It’s then that he notices that Finnick’s outfit left little to the imagination. “I mean it’s supposed to be for the horses, but I mean who cares about them, right? They got years to eat sugar, whereas you and I… Well, if we see something sweet, we better grab it quickly.” He licks it in a slow manner and tries to pretend like he’s not seducing Y/N with sugar.

Finnick Odair was as close to a living legend as you could get. He won the sixty-fifth Hungers Games when he was only fourteen years old. That already put him at a higher advantage than Y/N. His beauty was also the key to his success. Tall, athletic, with bronze skin and golden hair, Finnick Odair was a force to be reckoned with, despite his flirting attitude. He won the games with a silver trident that was given to him by sponsors. In a matter of days, the crown was his and the whole Capitol was drooling over him and his success.

Whatever the case, Y/N wasn’t going to allow Finnick to charm him like he had everyone else in his life. He was beautiful. Stunning. And if Y/N would admit it out aloud; he might even have fallen for him as well. But it doesn’t change the fact that he was the enemy and wouldn’t hesitate to kill or hurt Y/N the second he got the chance.

Y/N shook his head. “No, thanks. But I would love to borrow that outfit someday.” He looks down at Finnick’s outfit. If you could call it that. He was draped in a golden net that was knotted at his groin so he couldn’t technically be called naked, but he was as close to it as you could get. With a pretty ocean blue necklace and a shark’s tooth that hung for a cord. Finnick smiles and looks him up and down. “You look pretty terrifying in that getup. What happened to the handsome little boy suits?” He licks his lips, which probably drives most people crazy.

“I outgrew them.”

“You certainly did.” Finnick agrees. He steps closer and runs a hand over Y/N’s outfit. “Shame about this Quell thing. Now, you… you could have made out like a bandit in the Capitol. Jewels, money, anything you wanted.”

“Well, I don’t like jewels. Though, I wouldn’t mind a necklace as pretty as that one you’re wearing. And I have more money than I need, so… what did you do with all your wealth anyway?”

“I haven’t dealt in anything as common as money for years.” Finnick tells him.

“Well, then how do people pay for the pleasure of your company?” Y/N asked him.

“With secrets.” He told him softly. His lips were so close to Y/N’s, that could kiss him if he wanted. And he did. As shameful as that was to admit. “What about you, boy on fire? Any secrets worth my time?” His voice was smooth and husky and Y/N was sure this was how Finnick entrapped all those men and women into his bed. Y/N blushed, but tried to hold his ground.

“None that you would be interested in. Besides, everyone seems to know my secrets before I know them myself.”

“Unfortunately, I think that’s true.” He smiled sadly as he looked to his side."Though, Peeta and Katniss are coming.” He pops another sugar cube in his mouth and smiles charmingly. "Have a good day, Y/N. I’ll definitely be… catching you later.” He winks and saunters off, but not before he bends down to pick up an imaginary object that he dropped and shows off his muscle toned ass in his net outfit. All other Tributes look on in awe. Y/N looks away with a blushing face.

[boypied]

pairings: finnick odair x male reader

request: a finnick odair x male reader where Finnick is highly protective and possessive of his short male reader husband. All he wants is the reader to be under him and moans out his name as he breeds him.

warnings: SMUT ! , swearing, size kink.

MDNI + FDNI !

When you first began sleeping with Finnick, the sex was dirty. But once you got married, the sex became rough, dirtier, and finnick dominating your hole. Finnick has always been protective of you, even before you were together. He's obsessed with the way your body moves, the way you speak, the way you breathe. He is madly in love with you and would never let anyone lay a finger on you.

Your legs wrapped around his waist while he gripped your bare ass in his hands, and you both swapped spit. His tongue fighting for dominance in your mouth, your back pressed against the wall.

Your hard-on pressed against his body leaks pre-cum, coating his rippling abs. You gently thrust your hips up against him, and Finnick pulls away from your mouth. "Woah, don't get too ahead of yourself, baby." He smirks as he lays you down on the bed.

Finnick jerks his cock a couple times before leaning down to face your hole, he grabs your ankles pulling your legs open. "I've missed this tight hole." Finnick says, which causes you to blush. "Finnick, we've been married for two years now... we fucked this morning" You say which causes Finnick to role his eyes while laughing.

He pulls your legs, which causes your body to move with it, his tongue making contact with your hole, "fuckk." You moan out. Finnick spits against your tight pucker and pushes his tongue inside your hole, flicking it around in there, hitting all the right spots. "F-Finnick!" You stutter, which causes his tongue movements to become more precise as he knows which spots get your body shaking.

Finnick leans away from your hole, stripping his underwear off to reveal his hard on. "I can't hold back anymore, I need to fuck you." He smirks as his larger body towers over you. "I forget how small you look below me, makes me want to fuck you... hard." You blush as Finnick leans down to place a kiss on your lips before thrusting his cock hands free into your hole.

"FUCK!" you let out, as Finnick's cock opens up your tight walls. "After all these years and your body still hasn't gotten use to my size." Finnick smirks as you've become cock-numb.

Finnick continues to fuck you in an aggressive rhythm, hitting your g-spot at every thrust. Your eyes roll back into your head. "Who owns this hole?" He asks while thrusting deeper into you, "y-you!" You let out as maintain eye contact as your hole gets punished. "My name... say my name!" Finnick smirks as he leans down to suck on your nipple while thrusting into you. "F-Finnick!" You moan out as the pleasure takes over your body.

"Wanna cum for me, baby?" He says while kissing along your jaw.. "come on, cum for daddy!" Finnick looks in your eyes and nods at you, giving you permission.

"F-Fuckk! Daddy, I'm cumming" you moan out, as your shoot your load up across your body, hitting your chin, you breath heavily. Finnick continues to thrust deep inside you before releasing his load and painting your walls white. "F-FUCK!" He moans out.

He pulls out and lays down next to you. He leans forward and licks the cum off your chin "I love you" he says while kissing your jaw, "I love you too daddy"

[jamespottervariant]

someone please write a 274828467472972k long finnick odair/MALE oc or reader or whatever angsty fluffy hot cute fic SPECIFICALLY in the quarter quell PLEASE i WILL throw my life away for this I’LL DIE FOR YOU PLEASE

[captain-lessship]

Frozen Over pt. 4

The crowd cheered as you stood on your pedestal, a smile coming to your face. You had seen so many people on other occasions but you were always accompanied by your grandfather, this was different. It was your first step into displaying your own prowess and hopefully gained respect.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, this is the seventy-fifth year of the Hunger Games.” You spoke, your voice sounding everywhere, in the stadium and in the homes of millions of people.

“It was written in the charter of the Games, that every twenty-five years there would be a Quarter Quell, to remind each new generation of those who died in the uprising against the Capitol.” You intended for that last bit to be a warning because by all accounts: it was.

“Many of you may recall that each Quarter Quell is distinguished by Games of significance. On the seventy-fifth Anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the third Quarter Quell.” Cheers erupted from the crowd, you could feel their energy and you slowly felt your nerves slip away.

You now reached to the envelope that he had given you, carefully taking the paper from it. You breathed out as you began to read it, “"As a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, on this 3rd Quarter Quell Games, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of Victors in each District.” Your heart dropped, your chest became tight and you found yourself struggling to breathe. Finnick. Finnick would have to go again. Your friend.

You had a job to do. You couldn’t break on live television and give President Snow a emotional victory.

“All Victors will present themselves on Reaping Day, regardless of age, state of health, or any other hinderance. They will compete in this pageant of honor and sacrifice in a glorious fashion, and will compete for the ultimate crown." You forced a smile as the capital citizens cheered. You waved to them as you descended from your pedestal.

You rushed into your house, quickly running up to your room, you slammed the door behind you. It was all catching up to you. He wouldn’t do this intentionally but he was the only one who could let this happen. You pulled at your jacket ripping the buttons off and throwing it to the ground. You went to the wash pitcher and poured the water into the bowel, desperate to get the gold glitter off you.

Before you could shove your face into the cold water, you saw him in your mirror. You turned around quickly. Finnick stood there. Just looking at you. Not a glimpse of judgement, care or compassion. Pure indifference.

“Crazy doesn’t suit you.”

“How did you get in here?”

Finnick stared through you, “It is amazing what you can get when you say you have business. President Snow is also not home, they don’t protect you near as much.”

You straightened your back, “Finnick, I didn’t know.”

“What if I said I don’t believe you?” His expression changed, it was a look one might give to disgraceful traitor.

You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes. You couldn’t remember the last time you cried but everything had bubbled back up. How could you not crumble at the look he was giving you? You would’ve preferred him to cut you, stab you, or slam your head onto the floor, anything but the look he was giving you.

“Why are you crying?” The words were absent of comfort. “Nothing has happened to you.”

You rubbed at your eyes, black smudges left behind on your shaking hands.

“If I’d known, I would’ve begged and pleaded for him not to.” Tears came full force.

Finnick walked closer to you, you closed your eyes, fully prepared for him to back hand you like your grandfather had done when you had your, in his words, unneeded outburst.

Finnick had every right to. He was right, nothing as cruel as a second go around in the games would ever happen to you.

But you were surprised to feel a gentle yet firm hand on your face. “What happened there?” His finger tapped over the slightly scarred over cut.

“He hit me.” You said.

“Why?” Finnick asked, genuine worry coming to him.

“You will be upset.”

“I am already upset with him.” Finnick’s other hand came and forced you to look at him.

“I told him that what he has done to you was wrong and that you were my friend.”

You couldn’t look in his eyes, you had already shown so much weakness around him. Snow is not weakness.

“What a terrible man.” Finnick said softly. He took his hands from your face and stepped towards your bowl of water. “Your eye makeup is all over your face.” He said a matter of factly.

“I’m- It’s fine.” You went to rub your face with your hand but a coolness touched your face.

You jolted away from him. His gaze was soft and loving, “Water might not get it off but it will clean the trails on your face.”

You let him bring the cloth to your face, wiping gently. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had been so genuine affectionate. True that your Grandfather had his shoulder move and you often returned the hugs of your sister but this was different.

You opened your eyes and let them fall to Finnick’s. You had never seen another set like them and you knew you never would. You had seen a million other pair of blue eyes and many a pair of green eyes, but never a mix like his. If you were a poet, you would say they were the product of swirled sea foam, the very same that Aphrodite rose from.

Finnick stared back into your eyes. He always thought that they suited you. Your face was not very expressive but your eyes were, he could know exactly how you were feeling by looking in them. They softened for only certain people, they could cut anyone down. He loved how the ridges in your irises were like the tree lines back home.

You reminded him of home.

Hours passed, You had placed your clothes in your closet and had gotten dressed in your pajamas.

You were comforted as he told you warm stories of home but then he told you how he would be returning for the Reaping. It would take place tomorrow and he noticed how sad it made you so he once again returned a warm hand to your face. You were both sitting on the foot of your bed, you weren’t used to him sitting there with you but it felt nice.

“I wish that they wouldn’t do this.” You said.

“We all know why.” He sighed, “To punish that district…”

“Twelve.”

“Twelve girl.” He finished. “There’s talk of an uprising.”

You grabbed his hand and pulled it from your face, “Be honest with me, are you in on it?”

He was silent. He was silent for a while. “If they asked me to.”

You felt tears again. If you didn’t loose him in the arena, you would surely loose him when the rebellion was discovered.

“Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” He wiped at your tears with his thumb. “Don’t cry sweetheart, it will all work out.”

You just looked at him with the saddest look he had ever seen. He could almost feel his heart shattering the longer he looked at you.

“Finnick, why would think about that?”

“It’s what best for us all.”

“Not for me.”

“Why? Are you that spoile-“

“I love you. I have always loved you. I fell in love with you the first time I saw you, I didn’t know it then but for years, I found my soul yearning for you.”

You sprung up from your bed and backed away from him, “I didn’t want to admit it to myself. Not because I think I am better than you. No! Not that! I am not better than you.I am not good enough for you.”

Tears ran marathons down your face, chasing away your voice from your throat. Heart finally spilling open, you had broken the dam of self restraint.

“Even now, even tomorrow, even next year. I will never be good enough for you! But I was happy having you as a friend. Being your friend might not be what I want but it is what I have! I rather have your friendship than to never have known you.”

He was silent once again. He was looking at you as if you were a ghost.

“Say something! Scream! Yell! Slap me! I don’t care!” You reached on your dresser and flung your eyeliner at him, he hit it from the air. You started throwing more things.

“You coward! Get angry, damn it! Say our friendship is over! Tell me to fuck off!” You shrieked at him.

In a short moment, you had cleared the surface of the dresser. You let out a painful sob as you pressed your back to it and fell to the floor, throwing the last bottle pathetically, not even coming close to hitting him.

“Say anything.” You choked out between sobs. You had kept that inside for years and now that it was out, you couldn’t say felt any better.

“I love you too.”

You stopped in your tracks, “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not.”

You sharpened your eyes, inspecting him. You knew his body language, it didn’t appear that he was lying. He took a few steps towards you, eyes looking at you with care.

“Finnick..”

“Don’t you believe me?” He knelt down to your level.

“I do, but we both kno-“

He took your face in his hands and gently kissed you, as if he kissed you harder, you’d shatter like a stained glass window.

He pulled away after only a few seconds, scanning your face for signs of unhappiness. There was none. You just looked at him as you lifted your hand to ghost over your lips, firmly believing that this was a dream.

It wasn’t. He took your hand away from your lips and pressed another kiss, feeling you kiss him back. To you, it was beautiful. Was it beautiful to him too?

[oweninadaydream]

𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐩𝐭 𝟐 || 𝐅.𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 : Say Don't Go (Taylor's version) (From The Vault) or 4 times you say 'I love you' and Finnick says nothing back.

𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 : Finnick Odair x reader

𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽 : 2k

𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼 : angst/fluffy ending i promise, TW: mentions of torture ,anxiety and kidnapping (first story).

𝓪/𝓷 : As promised, here's part 2 of say don't go pt 1 !!! I hope you enjoy the fic!!!

3. 𝓰𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾

You woke up in your bed, yet you could not recall how you got there. Your body felt sore and stiff but nothing could top the way your head was pounding. You were seated against the headboard and you noticed that something wasn’t right ; you couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but you knew deep inside that something was different. To help calm your distress, you tried to remember anything about the day before . You realized right and then that your memory was completely blank, leaving you even more worried than you were prior to that failed attempt. 

You had assumed you were all alone, but then you saw Finnick pass through your bedroom door. “Thank God he’s here” you thought, convincing yourself that everything would be alright now that he was there with you (even if you ignored the motivation behind his unexpected visit). He slowly made his way inside and stood in the middle of the room, keeping himself at arm’s length, something extremely unusual that confirmed your gut feeling. Once he had entered your bedroom, you couldn’t help but analyze him and his strange attitude.  His movements were robotic as if someone had a remote control that forced him to act like that. His eyes had never been a mystery to you , you could always tell what was going on inside him with a single stare . But this time it was different; he was staring at you with an impassive look that you couldn't quite read, making your whole body tremble in fear and distrust.

You felt intimidated and tried to figure out what was wrong with him “Finn dear, what’s going on?" you asked with a quivering smile. You tried to lift your hand to reach his but ,for some reason, you couldn't. It felt like you were strapped to the mattress and you started panicking, as you couldn't figure out what was happening. Seeking comfort, you pleaded with him in between sobs "I'm very scared Finnick please tell me something, anything. Or just hold me because this is very confusing. I- I feel like- I can't move out of bed, I- I need you" 

He simply continued to play his stoic role ; he didn't move one inch before your panic attack or your efforts to set free from the invisible restraints holding you down. "Help me" you whispered with an expression of pure pain on your damped face. Your foggy brain couldn't process the scene before your eyes ; the person who represented love, hope and comfort in your miserable life was being a passive witness to your spectacle of fear and it didn’t seem like he was going to jump into action anytime soon. 

You noticed a rapid change in his factions. His eyes burst into flames of hatred and his clenched jaw only accentuated the shift from indifference to hostility. Instead of hurrying to console and aid you like the Finnick you knew would, this empty shell of a man that resembled him broke the distance between you and wrapped his hands around your throat, beginning to strangle you purposefully. 

You had been living in survival mode ever since you were chosen as a tribute for District 4 all those years ago, you were no stranger to fighting or death, but never in a million years would you have imagined that the man who swore to shield you from any danger would be the one stealing your breath with his bare hands in an extremely violent manner . You were desperately gasping for air and coughing while he continued to focus on his mission. 

For a moment, he seemed to let his hold loose a bit and you took the chance to try and talk him into letting go "Finn, it's me. Why are you doing this?Is anyone making you do this? We take care of each other, remember? I love you more than anything." you told him with a soft but raspy voice as a consequence of his assault. You were tired and wanted to give up, but you continued to fight for him, for your Finn to come back. Apparently, hearing your desperate confession only aggravated the situation, because you felt the strength returning to his hands. 

Suddenly, in between your cries and the lack of air , you felt yourself fading away. But before that happened , you heard a very loud scream. In the blink of an eye, you were no longer in your house and Finnick was nowhere to be seen. A white sterile room welcomed you to reality as some doctors accompanied by two peacekeepers entered the room. 

Oh, you remember now. You were kidnapped by the Capitol, who had been subjecting you to all kinds of  twisted experiments and never-ending abuse for who knows how long. The loud cries and several swear words that made you snap out of that nightmare were Johanna's, whose room was at your right. Peeta was your other neighbor, allowing you to hear them both being tortured at any given time. You looked at your arms and legs and saw the ropes tying you down , justifying the oppressing feeling you had while hallucinating. 

The main theme of your punishments for not snitching was him, Finnick Odair. Snow was more than aware of the deep devotion you held for him and how dear you were to him so he figured the perfect torture would be messing with your memories and use several techniques to impose fear and pain in your heart whenever you thought  of him or saw his face. That way, you would finally be all alone in this world ,  scared of the only thing you've ever loved so greatly and he would have to witness you shy away from him in pure terror. To meet his goal, they would drug you and play videos and recordings of him saying the meanest and cruelest words that you knew he would never be able to pronounce, but as the days passed , the truth and the imposed thoughts started to blur in one big and confusing mass. 

You were resisting quite well to President Snow's diabolic plan, but you could only hold onto your actual memories for so long. One of the last things you remembered thinking about  before you let yourself fall into madness were his eyes, and how much you loved them.

If your suffering assured his survival, you'd tell the Capitol to put you through it a thousand more times , and you would gladly do it again. If only you could have held your sweet Finnick for one more minute before letting him go forever…

4. 𝓪𝓷 𝓸𝓭𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓘 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮

The setting sun turned the white-sanded coast of District 4 a soft but enchanting shade of orange. The waves crashing against the rocks accompanied perfectly the idyllic landscape and brought a sense of calmness to the people assembled there. The summer solstice is a day where usually people celebrate the arrival of a new season, but that was not the case this time.

The beach looked magnificent, Effie had been the chief in charge of making everything (and everyone) look ideal for the occasion that brought them all together on that day. The first rows of white chairs were occupied by Haymitch, Effie, Katniss, Peeta, Johanna, Annie and right next to her, there was Mags, the woman who had taken care of you both for so many years and had seen how you two where meant to be from the first time you and your fiancé (soon to be husband) exchanged looks.

Neither you nor Finnick had ever thought about marrying anyone ; under Snow's regime, you were mere pieces of a game with no actual power of decision. But that didn't matter anymore. You were walking towards Finnick, who was nervously fidgeting with the sleeve of his suit , waiting for you at the end of the isle. When you finally arrived at your destination, you couldn't help but to turn around and go back to hug Mags, who received you with open arms and a couple of shed tears over her face. After this emotional moment, you went back to Finnick's side "Hi" you whispered so that the conversation could remain secret from all the guests "You come here often?" he teased with a beaming smile on his face. You let out a breathy laugh to relieve some tension and then you both turned so that the ceremony could start.

"I want to keep this vows short because I would need another lifetime just to expose the million reasons why this is the best day of my life. We're free, my love. It's truly over. This is our reward after a whole life of suffering and holding back. I am so in love with you, it's hard to put it into words. You know? Mags once told me that the thing I needed the most had always been right in front of me and I didn't get what she meant by that in that moment. She just laughed at me and told me that I would understand, one of these days" Mags in the front row was a tearful mess "and now I do. I really do" he stated confidently while holding your hands on his.

"My soul craves intertwining itself with yours until there's no way to separate them. So, with this ring" he then proceeded to grab your left hand so cautiously as if you would break at the minimum touch, and slip the golden ring in your finger "I, Finnick Odair, swear to protect, satisfy and devote myself to you ; my friend, my savior and now my spouse. I can't wait to spend the rest of my days with my forever love, which happens to be you" He had always hated to see you cry, even if they were happy tears, so he had to insert a little joke to see you chuckle and be able to hear the most beautiful sound on Earth ; your laugh.

You could sense that your voice would betray you at the minimum attempt to speak, so you needed to rush through your vows before you would explode into tears "God Finnick, you always know how to leave me speechless." the guests all laughed, moved by the evident complicity between the two of you.

"I always knew you were my soulmate, the person I was meant to find. The love I carry for you in my heart used to feel too heavy, but now that I get to set it free, it's more like energy rushing though my whole body, healing all the broken parts. I have the privilege to experience how it feels being loved by you and I want to try and describe it for all our friends who are here today" you breathed in and out and kept talking "Being loved by you feels like being rocked by the sea, like waking up to the smell of freshly baked goods or like being tucked into a warm bed in wintertime. It's exiting, comforting, amusing and an insane amount of other things that I could say right now" you recited while staring at his piercing green eyes that were completely red and filled with tears . You caressed his cheek and tried to wipe them away. "I will always follow you wherever you go, until the end of time. That's what I've always wanted to do and I couldn't be more exited about spending the rest of my life with such a handsome and amazing man. I love you."

Before you could do or say anything else, Finnick held your face between his hand and kissed you like he had been wanting to do since the ceremony started. You said 'I love you' and he said nothing back, but it wasn't so bad this time.

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