#i love soft finnick

[thedelicatearcher]

finnick but this time his partner is sick, not him??

finnick odair takes care of his sick partner

finnick odair never seems to get sick, his immune system has become unusually strong after receiving countless capitol treatments. he’s always bragging about it whenever you ask him to put on a sweater when it’s windy. and when he’s not showing off, he’s playfully sticking his tongue out at you whenever you gently scold him for going to bed with wet hair. yet, it’s his strong immune system that lets him take care of you without worrying about getting sick himself. 

you wake up early in the morning, your muscles aching and a deep fatigue settling in, as if you’ve just run a marathon. as you groggily open your eyes, you expect to find the bed empty since finnick usually rises early to go for a swim. to your surprise, you find his arm wrapped around your waist, his gaze adoring as he looks at you. 

“morning, sweetheart,” he murmurs in a husky voice, gently moving his hand from your waist to your cheek. “finn,” you attempt to whine his name, ready to complain about how terrible you feel. but when you try to speak, only a hoarse squeak escapes your lips; your voice is gone.

he can’t help but chuckle lightly at your sad expression, hurrying to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead at the sight of hurt in your eyes. “shh, sweetheart,” he coos immediately, “don’t overexert yourself.” your gaze reveals your confusion about why he’s still here, and he quickly explains that as he was preparing to leave for his morning swim, he kissed your forehead, like he always does before leaving, but noticed your skin felt warm, prompting him to stay and take care of you.

before you even have a chance to complain (or at least try, given your lack of voice) and insist that he should go out to enjoy his morning , he gently takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. “how are you feeling? where does it hurt?” his voice is as tender as his touch. his gaze softens as your finger weakly points to your throat, indicating your sore throat. however, just as you’re about to share more about your sickness, you’re interrupted by a sudden barrage of never-ending sneezes.

a loud gasp escapes his lips and his hand instinctively leaves yours to shield his face from your sneezes. his expression shifts from shock to amusement in a matter of seconds, a stark contrast to the dazed look on your face after the sneezing fit rattles you. as he wipes his face with the back of his hand, you find yourself burying your face in his chest. embarrassment, combined with the light fever, makes your cheeks burn as if they were on fire, and you try not to physically cringe after accidentally drenching your boyfriend in your germs.

to your relief, finnick is completely unfazed. “don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmurs with a stifled chuckle, “it’s going to take more than a few sneezes to scare me off.” you nuzzle your face into his chest at his words, wondering to yourself, ‘is he really never going to get sick?’. despite your lingering embarrassment, the weight of exhaustion takes over, and finnick’s fingers softly playing with your hair are not helping your case. only a soft, tired hum escapes you before you finally surrender, drifting to sleep in his arms, now so tightly wrapped around you.

throughout the rest of the week, finnick is determined to help you feel better. he has you lying with your head in his lap, giving him space to gently massage around your nose and under your eyes, using a technique mags used on him when he was deeply congested. as he makes soft circular motions with his fingers, he gazes down at you with affection. it’s not usual for you to allow yourself to be so vulnerable and let someone else care for you, so his heart swells at the sight of your face relaxing under his tender touch.

every night, before slipping into bed beside you, the blond dedicates some sweet time in the kitchen to prepare a warm meal just for you. while he would have loved to make you chicken soup every night to soothe the soreness in your throat, he knows that even healthy people tire of the same meal five nights in a row, so he gets creative. he scours the district’s market in search of someone who can sell him applesauce, and whips up mashed potatoes when you feel your appetite fade. finnick odair never lets you go to sleep with an empty stomach. 

still, there were moments when all you want is to be held by your lover, to feel the warmth of his embrace wrap around you as shivers coursed through your feverish body. in those instances, it’s not just his arms you long for. it’s the sense of safety he provides to you as well. as his hands caress your back, you feel more loved than ever: in the quiet of the room, as he’s trying to comfort you through soft, soothing touches while your weakened, sick body clings to him. he never lets out a whine nor a complaint, always dedicated to making you feel cherished and loved. 

every day, you feel grateful to the universe for giving you your soulmate in such a gentle yet passionately devoted man. as you feel finnick’s warm body pressed against yours, his soft snores filling the room, you make a silent vow: to be just as supporting and caring when the shadows of another depressive episode creep into his life.

[necromelli]

annie cresta, in all her madness, taught finnick how to love.

finnick was a boy with a puppy crush + no real idea beyond expensive gifts, tacky dates, and old-fashioned advice from mags on how to convey genuine interest. especially when annie comes back from her games wrong. all messed up with her head screwed too loose.

annie was a girl who, even on her worst days, loved fully. her love consumed her whole chest from the very beginning. she was the first to say 'i love you', get finnick sentimental gifts (he still has the first hagstone she found and strung on a rope to protect him on his capitol trips), and truly teach him how to love and not to pretend to love.

annie is the first person who doesn't use finnick for his body. she's the one that taught him how to worship. it keeps her sane, really, when she can unfocus her eyes, turn her brain off, and press kisses into the damaged parts of finnick. all the doting, loving things finnick does didn't start with him, it started with annie.

when she has it in her, which isn't often anymore, she's so doting and affectionate and gentle with finnick it's sickening. i can imagine annie waking up, body and brain on autopilot at whatever ungodly hour finnick comes home from the capitol, and she silently kisses the top of his head and leads him into the bathroom. she turns the water on — hot, because she knows finnick wants to burn the the feeling of their hands away — and let's him decide whether it's a bath or a shower. either way, annie is right there, lathering her shampoo into his hair (it helps finnick calm down when he can smell her), gently rinses it out without stinging his eyes, puts the conditioner in, and washes the touches off his body. annie knows finnick is funny about going to bed with a wet head, and so she'll blow dry it for him.

then, once everything's all done and finnick is taken care of, she'll climb back into their bed, beckon finnick to her, and let him lay against her chest. she doesn't force him to sleep or talk about it as long as he's willing to be with her through it.

and, in the years to come, as annie's episodes start getting worse, start lasting longer, finnick does the same. he'll wash her with his soap, spend the time taking care of her hair, and lays with her in silence. she doesn't have to sleep or talk about it as long as she's willing to be with him through it.

[finnickeys]

i don’t have anything to contribute to odesta monday except that i am a sucker for olympics aus and i have a soft spot for former olympic swimmer finnick who retires suddenly and then goes on to work in an aquarium as a conservation specialist or adjacent role & annie who is also an olympic swimmer dealing with her own mental health issues that eventually lead her to wanting to become a coach

[ervotica]

“shhh, shhh..I know, I know..” with finnick pls 🥺

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: this takes place after the poison fog, r is badly injured and finnick takes care of her

hunger games masterlist

You twitch against Finnick’s chest in the tall grass, rough like sandpaper against your wounded face. You’re covered head to toe in blisters from the fog, eyes half lidded as you begin to lose consciousness from the pain.

Katniss’ strangled wail is muffled and far away in your ears and you barely register the words.

“The water! The water helps.”

You drag yourself from where you’ve collapsed on top of your fiancé; crawling along on your elbows, you make it a couple of feet at most before you’re exhausted; your entire body is burning, skin raw, every little touch flaring up every nerve ending inside of you.

There’s a rustling next to you as Finnick is lifted and dragged to the shallow pool of water a few feet away; there’s a splash and a gurgled scream as Katniss and Peeta start to clean his blistered skin.

“Finnick,” you gasp, your concern for him overriding the searing pain for a split second. “Finn,” you croak again, eyes heavy.

It’s quiet for a minute, the only sound the whispering of leaves brushing against each other. All the while you lay face down, trying to peel your eyes open where they feel like they’ve been superglued shut.

Thick fingers pull at your jaw and your head turns; your neck is stiff and the touch feels like the lick of a flame against your bulging wounds.

“C’mon,” It’s Peeta. “Gotta get you to the water.”

“It’s okay, I’ve got her,” comes Finnick’s voice and his hands pull you up by the armpits. You hiss and squirm away from his hold, the skin on skin contact causing too much pain.

“I know, honey, I’m sorry.” He speaks in that soft voice you love, the one reserved just for you. “It’ll feel better soon.”

He lowers you into the water and you scream. It’s a pain unlike any you’ve ever felt before, white-hot and scalding. It’s like you’re bleeding from every pore.

“Shhh, shhh… I know, I know.” He winces as the blisters start to lodge free from your skin and you relax, sagging in his arms.

“‘S better,” you slur. Your eyes snap open as you grapple for purchase against Finnick’s neck; your thumb rubs circles into his cheek. “You’re okay? You’re sure you’re okay?”

He laughs, incredulous that even at a time like this, he’s where your worries lie. Pointed teeth glare back at you as you thumb at his bottom lip and smile.

“I’m fine. Just worried about you.”

“I feel better. I’m okay now.”

His muscular arms engulf you, wrapping around your waist now it’s finally safe to touch you again.

[coryosbaby]

18+, MDNI

The Water Scene in Catching Fire Defines how Peeta, Finnick, and Katniss Eat pussy.

I’m sorry, but I believe this wholeheartedly .

Peeta Mellark is gentle, smooth, and soft. His tongue leaves trails in brushy strokes against your clit, lips wrapped around the swollen bud and suckling. He uses his fingers to slowly curl into your sweet spot— the tips of them massage your inner walls perfectly, and he lets out tiny whimpers as he devours your cunt. He may talk, mumbling out tiny praises against your lips, blushing like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Love your pussy, love it so much..”

“squeezing my fingers so good, can’t wait for you to squeeze my cock, baby.”

“Cum, please please cum all over me… I’ll be a good boy!”

He eats you out anytime you ask him to, and sometimes a lot of the time when he feels like using his tongue. When he cums, he’ll do it grinding himself against your leg like a desperate, whimpering puppy. <3

Finnick O’Dair is wild, untamed, and sloppy. His mouth devours you as he fucks your hole with his tongue, his fingers bruising against your thighs as he laps at your cunt. Groans spill from his lips, and honestly he’s too busy tasting you to speak. But sometimes, if you’re being extra bratty, he loves to slap your thighs and pull away with his chin dripping with slick to scold you.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop squirming? Keep your fucking legs open.”

“If you yank my hair like that again, you aren’t getting my mouth for a month.”

“what’d I tell you, huh? Don’t make me have to duct tape that pretty mouth shut.”

Oh my god, he literally is always between your legs. He mostly always initiates it because he just loves your pussy so much, and you get shy when asking him. Sometimes he’ll pull out his cock and jerk it sloppily between your legs and ride out his high by marking his cum all over your lips. <3

Katniss Everdeen is skilled, precise, calculated. Her mouth latches onto your pussy without a second thought, the tip of her tongue rubbing circles into your clit. She presses her fingers deep, draws out orgasm after orgasm. She doesn’t care if you say it’s too much. Her mouth will move hot between your legs and she’ll make you cum over and over again until she wants to stop. She respects your boundaries, of course, but in this case you almost always ask her to push you over your limits. She’ll tell you where to put your hands, or where to guide her when she’s eating you so she can get it just right.

“No, I said to put them over your head. Don’t make me tell you again, okay?”

“How many times have you came? Three? Four? Oh, that’s cute. But you’re going to have to give me one more.”

“Grab my hair, not too hard— just like that. There’s my good girl.”

She does it when you suggest, or when she’s stressed and needs a snack distraction. When she cums, she does it by letting you return the favor. Your mouth kisses up her thighs, and you practically drool as you settle yourself between her legs <3

@mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

flower therapy | f. odair

masterlist

summary: after being rescued from the capitol’s torturous clutches, your boyfriend, finnick odair, assists you with recovering from haunting memories and ptsd.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: finnick being major boyfriend material, soft reader, mentions of torture, ptsd, panic attack, hurt/comfort, fluff

notes: the way i lowkey triggered myself into a panic attack while writing this?? i’m okay now though 😀

word count: 1.3k

Post-traumatic stress mental rehabilitation. That is what the psychiatric doctors of District Thirteen suggested after you were rescued from being captured and tortured in the Capitol. Their methods sounded daunting and all too familiar—sterile white rooms, memory flash cards, persistent strangers who would force you to relive your trauma so you could 'work through it'.

Finnick did not like the sound of that one bit. So, he offered an alternative.

Post-traumatic stress mental rehabilitation. The label was a mouthful. Finnick preferred to call it "flower therapy". Twice a week, you and Finnick were authorised to spend two hours above ground where you would sit in a nearby meadow, make daisy chains, and occasionally open up about what happened in the Capitol.

You liked to call it "the power of flowers". Stupid, but saying it always formed a little smile on your face and there was no harm in simple joy considering the cruelties you had endured. Most of the time, you were silent and would lie in Finnick's arms while making flower crowns. He was always patient; he understood you needed time. Day after day, he proved his unconditional love, and you thanked the universe for blessing you with such an incredible man.

"Oh no," you whispered.

"What is it?"

You dangled your broken daisy chain in front of you and Finnick.

"Oh no," he echoed.

Your back rested against his chest and his arms enveloped your body as he held his own effortlessly crafted yellow chain in your lap. Apparently, years of weaving fishing nets creates a master of making daisy chains.

"Here," he said, positioning his own flower crown on your head. "Beautiful."

Smiling, you turned your head to face him. "I'm going to tell everyone I made it."

The flowers sat like a golden halo atop your head, beaming just as bright as the smile Finnick had bloomed at the sight of you. Beauty was everything that you were; not just outwardly, but within the confines of your mind too. Flowers and sunlight were interwoven with your soul, making up the essence of who you were—loving and warm-hearted. One of the many reasons Finnick had fallen in love with you.

He would forever want to remain in your garden, tending to and protecting every petal that blossomed.

His thumb swiped affectionately across your cheek. "Of course you are, you thief," he murmured, grinning. "You owe me."

Your stomach flooded with butterflies and you leaned in, tenderly kissing him with soft pink lips. Finnick cupped your cheek, stroking the baby hairs of your hairline with his fingers as he smiled against your mouth. Even your lips tasted like sweet nectar to him.

After you pulled away, you settled back into his embrace, sinking into those arms that shielded you from any and all harm.

"Okay, I suppose you're forgiven," Finnick said, the smile present in his voice.

You toyed with his fingers while wearing a glowing smile of your own, his arms lovingly wrapped around your body. Oh, you loved him so endlessly.

As the sun began to lower, a mixture of orange and pink clouds blanketed the sky. The trees surrounding the meadow cast large shadows throughout the area, making it appear much darker than it really was. A subtle shift in the once tranquil atmosphere rippled through the meadow, happiness now becoming a distant and unreachable feeling.

The broken daisy chain crumpled in your hands no longer shined in the sun like a beautiful mess. It instead looked tangled. Chaotic. Darkened by the dimming light and transformed into something sinister that resurfaced haunting memories of the Capitol—twisted IV tubes filled with unknown substances, chains that removed layers of skin, decaying white roses that covered the floor of your cell.

Heaviness clutched at your heart, suffocating you from within.

Finnick sensed the sudden shift, loosening his hold around you as he whispered, "What's wrong?"

"I—I don't know," you stammered, the air thinning around you.

The wilting daisies started to taint your hands with darkness, creeping slowly up your arms and causing them to tremble. Finnick, who noticed your fixation on the daisy chain, gently took the flowers from your grasp and set them aside.

It was too late; the panic had already set in.

He turned your body to the side in his lap, forcing you to face him. Your eyes flickered with worry. No amount of pain could compare to the heartbreak he felt seeing you like this.

"Hey. Hey, look at me," he urged, his tone soothing. "Breathe with me, alright? In..." He inhaled deeply through his nose. "And out."

But it was no use. Air was caged within your lungs, burning like fiery hot whirlwinds inside your chest. It was all you could do to force rapid shallow breaths out of your mouth.

"No, no!" A tear fell from your eye as you fervently shook your head. "Finn, I ca—I can't."

"Yes, you can, baby," he said, pushing aside the hair that obscured your vision. His eyes searched the area, looking for anything that could help distract your frantic mind. That is when he spotted a small flock of birds perched on one of the tree branches, instantly recognising their black feathers and sharp beaks. "Look. See those birds? They're mockingjays."

Finnick pointed up at the tree, gaining your attention which then shifted to the birds that were gawking down at you with curious tilting heads. Mockingjays. Katniss. Rebellion. Hope. You focused all your attention on the little black birds and listened to Finnick's reassuring voice.

"They'll repeat any tune you make," he continued, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "Can you do that for me? Try and whistle something for them?"

Attempting to control your ragged breathing, you jerkily nodded. Songs from the world before the war overtook your mind. At first, it was overwhelming as your mind scrambled for a suitable melody, fuelling your panicked state. But then you heard something familiar and focused on the familiar tune, one that was from your childhood.

Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,

Go to sleep, my little baby,

When you wake you shall have,

All the pretty little horses.

It was a lullaby your mother sang whenever you were upset. Seemed fitting considering the situation. You managed to whistle the first few notes, albeit a little wobbly of course, hardly noticing the air that was starting to flow more freely into your lungs.

"That's it, sweet girl."

Once the mockingjays began echoing the song throughout the forest—far more beautifully than your broken whistles—you continued the melody until the end. When you finished, the birds continued to repeat the tune, singing your mother's lullaby over and over in the trees of District Thirteen.

Whilst sat cradled in Finnick's embrace, you quietly hummed along as he stroked soft patterns on your arm. Darkness and pain were long forgotten now. Your body no longer trembled with fear nor did your breathing. Memories of the Capitol's brutality were locked away and hidden in the back of your mind, diligently guarded by the man whose arms you lay in.

Golden beams filtered through the tree trunks; the sun was now lowered enough to let the warm light in, illuminating both you and Finnick. He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, wrapping you up even tighter in his arms now that he was certain the worst had passed.

You clutched onto his arm and blew out a final stabilising breath, finding comfort in the strength and protection he held. The side of your head rested against his chest, the beats of his heart harmonising like a drum with the mockingjays' song.

You wanted to apologise but knew his response would be dismissive. You wanted to tell him how deeply you loved and appreciated him but knew your words would fail you.

So, you remained silent.

"You're safe," Finnick whispered into your hair. "Right here, right now. I promise."

Right here, right now, you repeated in your mind. In Finnick's arms, you were safe. You were loved.

tags: @tayrae515

[mollywog]

I’d love to see their dynamic in like a HS modern AU

Thinking about the time she throws up on him after Gale broke his nose and he’s just like: sigh

Cackling at your response comment to First Match of the (Festive) Season!

Oh, I'm so on board with Boggs as Mrs. Everdeen's boyfriend! The two would have the best dynamic when Katniss inevitably warms up to him.

(And maybe it is a bit dark but I'm thinking of a "Kill Peeta" parallel where Katniss is complaining about something minor about her otherwise perfect boyfriend, and Boggs is being overly protective and goes "DUMP PEETA!")

Please!! Someone write this!

Hahah, thank you! The more I think about it, the more I like Boggs being closer to the Everdeens in a modern AU. That was such a great idea. ❤️

And, totally agree! Get on it, folks!! 2025 should be the year we get more Boggs in fics!

[melgolbach]

The Lights [Finnick Odair x Reader]

warnings: (panic attack),, n just overall cuteness overload !1!1!<3

You were having yet another panic attack inside the bunker, Katniss was by your side in an instant when Finnick was nowhere to be seen. “Deep breaths in, deep breaths out. Follow after me,” she whispered, rocking you back in forth in her arms. You tried following her directions but in the end, you failed and your panic attack was getting worse and worse.

“Is she okay?” Peeta asked Katniss, who looked back with a ‘does she look okay?’ look towards him. ‘ go get Finnick . NOW ’ she mouthed to Peeta, he nodded and walked off.

It was just you and Katniss again, and Katniss felt you to the core. You had just started to hyperventilate, and all she could do was hold you close to her body to keep you warm and try to get you back on track.

About ten minutes after Peeta had left the two of you, pairs of footsteps clicking to the floor could be heard. Katniss turned her head towards the sound, and exhaled out when she saw Peeta and Finnick behind. “Thanks for looking after her Kat.” Finnick nodded his head towards her, “she is my best friend. I’d be a bad best friend if I didn’t do anything,” Katniss gently lifted you up, the two of you walking towards Finnick.

“Hey, hey princess. What’s wrong? What’s got you so worked up?” Finnick took you into his arms, thanking Katniss once again as the other two walked away to who knows where. “I- I- I shot him,” you whispered, your hands going to your face to scratch at it. Finnick grabbed ahold of your hands, rubbing them gently with his thumbs. “That’s not what we’re gonna do today,” he chuckled with a soft smile.

Whenever you had panic attacks, you’d always scratch your face to the point it bled. Finnick helped you get out of that mess. He led you to the stairs, always getting permission for you to go outside the bunker just to look at the stars whenever you had your panic attacks.

He led you up the stairs, at a slow pace to not startle you. “How was your day, my love?” He hummed, wrapping an arm around your back and rubbing it slowly with his hand.

Finnick waited a few minutes for you to calm a bit down, he knew whenever he started conversations it would take some time for you to answer. “O—Okay,” you stuttered out. “What was your favorite part of your day?” He asked you.

You twiddled with his other hand that held yours. Playing with the golden ring on his ring finger. You smiled softly. “waking up next to you,” you whispered. the tears from your eyes finally came to a stop, wet streaks visible on your cheeks with your puffy red eyes. “Really?” Finnick’s lips turn to a huge wide smile onto his face. You giggled softly and nodded. “Really.” You repeated.

The two of you finally got to the top, and both of you had to climb up the ladder. Finnick got up there first to open the trap door, and then you followed suit. He grabbed your hands to pick you up quicker, and then sat you on the dirt ground. He closed the trap door and placed grass over it.

The two of you walked and walked till you got to your safe log that was surrounded by trees and bushes, big enough to fit you and Finnick sitting on the green green fresh grass. You sat on the said grass, while Finnick sat on the log behind you.

You leaned back into him, getting comfortable as Finnick wrapped his arms around your waist. You grabbed ahold of his hands and started to play with them, while you heard Finnick counting the stars.

“You’re never gonna get them all,” you giggle out, looking up at him from your spot. He looked down at you, “you made me lose my spot.” He pouted. “How many stars did you have in counting just right now?” You asked.

“50. 50 stars.” Finnick hummed. You made a duck look face, moving your lips to signal to Finnick you wanted a kiss. He chuckled and leaned down to you, to kiss you softly. He pulled away, his eyes half open as he looked at you with nothing but love.

“I love you,” Finnick spoke, kissing your lips once more.

“I love you too.”

[gtgbabie0]

-Finnick Odair x reader

{Finnick says those three special words}

He’s so boyfriend! 💕 enjoy my lovelies

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The sun is setting, casting hues of pink and orange that shimmer along the ocean water. It’s a mesmerising sight that you can’t seem to stop looking at, despite the fact that you and Finnick come to this beach almost everyday.

He watches you with a soft smile, his heart hammering inside his chest at the way the afternoon sun kisses your skin making you glow in the most prettiest of ways. His eyes take in the shape of your lips and the curve of your nose. He’d study you for hours upon hours if you’d let him.

“You’re staring” You smile, turning your head to the side to look at him. His face reddens slightly with embarrassment, trying to cover it up with a smirk.

“I’m just enjoying the view” He replies with a playful wink, chuckling at the way you roll your eyes.

The sea ripples at your ankles as you dig your fingers through the sand looking for seashells. You have a small collection consisting of only three shells; one for the time you and Finnick went on your real first date, another for the day he got reaped and one for when he came back from winning his games.

All of them are different shapes, colours and sizes sitting neatly on your bedside table. They were the only things that got you through the days where he was gone, the memories of him live through the groves of the shells and the sound of the sea that’s trapped within them.

“This one… this one is perfect” You tell him holding up the small shell. It’s chipped slightly at the top but besides from that, it’s in great shape. You hold the shell up to his eyes nodding your head softly.

Finnick frowns ever so slightly, eyebrows pulled together in confusion as he watches you press the seashell up to the side of his face. “What are you doing?” He chuckles softly looking over at your hand.

“It matches your eye colour” You whisper as you study the different shades of greens and blues, how some are darker and lighter in areas and how they come together to mimic his eyes.

Finnick thinks you might’ve just broken him, the teasing words die on his tongue and suddenly he’s finding it hard to breathe.

“You’re gonna add it to your collection?” He grins softly as you nod, making a comment about how you’re gonna start a shrine dedicated to him and he doesn’t bother hiding the blush that dusts his cheeks.

He does the same thing, his eyes glancing up to yours and then to the sandy floor in search of a seashell. He picks up one, then another and holds them up to your eyes, his warm hand grazing against your cheek as he does so.

“You’re so beautiful” He whispers, taking notice of how the sunlight hits your eyes. You tilt your chin down to your chest as a breathless giggle falls from your lips and Finnick wastes no time in holding your jaw gently, making you look up at him.

“Why’re you shying away from me honey?” He smirks and you curse him silently because he knows damn well what he’s doing to you, especially when his thumb begins to soothe against your cheek and the space just under your eye.

“I’m not shying away” You breathe glancing down at the seashells that lay in his palm. “Have you found a match yet?” You ask before he can continue with his teasing.

Finnick looks down at the shells with a smile. “Hmm?… oh yeah, this one” He says as he hands you the seashell that matches your eye colour, it twists into a cone and the end is chipped off.

They both sit in the palm of your hand, one that resembles his and one that resembles yours, and there’s something about it that melts him, the thought that no matter what happens you’ll always have a reminder of him.

“I’m gonna add them to my collection” You smile as his eyes meet yours, full of love, an overwhelming feeling that bleeds into his chest and he just can’t seem to get enough of.

The words fall so effortlessly from his lips and he doesn’t hide away from them. “I love you” It’s such a simple declaration but the way he says it takes you back. His tone is soft but passionate, dripping with affection. A soft gasp escapes you as the words linger in the air.

Before Finnick can even begin to question himself you’re already wrapping your arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly. “I love you too Finn” You whisper against his neck, the smell of sea salt lingers in his hair.

It’s all he’s ever wanted and more, stored in those special words and now he’s said it once he’s never going to stop. He rests his forehead against yours, his hand against your cheek as he kisses you softly, noses bumping against each other’s slightly.

“I love you so much” He says once more, against your lips with a smile. You whisper the words back in between sweet kisses that soon taper off, breaking slowly as the pair of you smile uncontrollably. He glances down at the shells in your hand, the same ones that’ll sit on your bedside table for years to come.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

[bruisedboys]

finnick odair + being enamoured with his s/o

requested here. finnick odair x reader (implied fem!r)

finnick odair who’s so sickeningly in love with you and worships the ground you walk on !! it shocks you at first, because he’s the capitol’s golden boy, he’s a victor, and before you met him you were so sure he had everything anyone could ever want. but he treats you like you’re the only thing he could ever want or need. he tells you you’re the one thing his heart has been waiting on for years and years. his soul is yoked to yours forever, he says. the world could fall away and he’d cling to you.

finnick claims he was meant to love you, in a sleepy haze one quiet evening, after a long day of morning markets and swimming at the beach and tending to the garden. his hair’s still damp at the roots, but curling at the tips, golden and sunkissed. he’s got you on his bare chest, one arm curled around your waist. he smells lovely, this intoxicating mixture of sea salt and soap and his natural heady musk.

his forearm drags up your back and down again, “I love you,” he says, a murmur so soft you barely hear it. he’s tired, seconds from being pulled into sleep, and yet. “I think I was made to love you.”

you blink, glad he can’t see the look on your face. he’s always surprising you and saying such heavily romantic things as if he doesn’t know how hard they puncture your heart. you should be used to it by now. you’re not.

“finnick,” you say. you’re lost for words for a few moments. you think he’s fallen asleep when you finally say, “I love you, too,” but he hums, this lovely, low sound that vibrates his chest where you’re smushed against it, and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

you both fall asleep in a lovesick tangle, and then in the morning he follows you around like a puppy, brushing your hair away for you when you wash your face, helping you pick out clothes, plucking your apple from your hands before you can take a bite so he can cut it up for you first. (he knows you like apple slices better than whole ones. you’ve never had to tell him, but he figured it out).

he likes watching you while you get ready, too. he likes how your fingers look while you braid your hair (he offers to do it most mornings, but today his tongue is too tied up in knots with how lovely you are), how your skin looks after you’ve moisturised. how, when you pull away your silk pyjama top to change, your shoulders and neck are littered with faint red love marks from his mouth.

you’ll ask him if he’s okay, probably because he looks a bit faint. he’ll nod. “yeah, I’m okay. just love you.”

you never doubted it.

[liseytopia]

FINNICK HEADCANONS .ᐟ

finnick odair x fem!reader

𓇼 finnick odair who snorts with tears of laughter welling in the corners of his eyes when he laughs too hard. when you two share jokes and bring up funny moments you had together.

𖦹 finnick odair who loves flustering you with pickup lines and snarky comments, but covers his face with the palms of his hands when you get him back. behind those hands is a pretty, dimpled smile and blushed cheeks that scream 'i love you.'

𓇼 finnick odair who finds comfort in holding your hand. tracing little shapes on your knuckles with his calloused yet soft fingertips.

𖦹 finnick odair who bought you a surfboard that matches with his for your birthday. he customized it to fit you, with little drawings of pearls and sea stars that remind him of you along it. when not in use, it's on full display in your shared bedroom as your prized possession.

𓇼 finnick odair who loves play fighting with you. who lets you jump on him, giggling, and every now and then knock him down. who lets you straddle over him and playfully punch his shoulder. it makes him happy to see you having fun, not to mention he has fun too, laughing and manhandling you off of him.

𖦹 finnick odair who always wants you there with him when he's taking a bath or shower. he finds comfort in water itself, so it's only fitting that he gets to have his pretty girl with him. he always finds a way to make it fun when you two bathe, sitting on opposite ends of the tub and shaping little creatures out of the bubbles.

𓇼 finnick odair who can't even pretend he doesn't like it when you wear his clothes. it makes his heart swoop when he sees you walking around in one of his tee-shirts, especially when in public.

𖦹 finnick odair who randomly picks you up to kiss your lips whenever he wants. you two could be in a meeting in thirteen and he'll wrap your legs around his waist to get as much of your lips as he wants. it causes glares from haymitch and coin, but does he really care if you're right there with him?

𓇼 finnick odair who will always be there to be a shoulder to cry on. more than that, even. he'll comfort you until the end of time. finnick will always and forever be there to support you, help you after your nightmares, to kiss your forehead with passion and wrap has arms around your shaking body, acting as a shield from whatever horrors were brought by the capitol.

© liseytopia 2024 : do not copy, translate, or steal my work.

[ficmenrhot]

Hii could u do a smut where reader calls finnick ‘Finny’. Like she moans it out while they’re yk and it absolutely makes him feral. And he’s all like:

“What was that sugar? Say it again.” Etc.

Say it Again

Pairing: Soft dom Finnick x shy fem!reader

Notes: Dom/sub themes, voice kink, praise kink, p in v, slight corruption kink, Finnick Odair is such a munch. Minors DNI

A/N: I haven’t had the motivation to write and I’ve still got a few requests in my drafts, I’m really sorry if they’re yours. Hope I hadn’t lost my touch

————————————————————————

Finnick was your first everything- first relationship, first kiss….the first one to break you in- and quite frankly, he intends to be your last too. He loves how he gets to be the only one to teach you all of these things- to be the person who corrupts your innocence, explores different ways to give you pleasure, and work your body better than you can.

Finnick is always sure to praise you during sex to ensure you’re fully comfortable with him. Sex was never really an intimate or enjoyable thing for him before he had met you, so Finnick wants to make sure you are given the experience he never did. More than anything else, Finnick would like to hear your be more vocal during sex.

Although you occasionally make a few noises here and there, letting out small moans and soft whimpers (because let’s be real, it’s impossible to keep quiet when the Finnick Odair is railing you), you often try to conceal your sounds because you feel a bit insecure about your voice. Unbeknownst to you, Finnick would like nothing more than to hear you moan out his name and to tell him how good he makes you feel. If only you know the ego boost it would give him and how his heart would race at a single comment.

This night, Finnick has you laid out on your shared bed, the mattress soft yet supporting underneath you two as he thrusts deeply into you at a steady pace. His warm mouth is latched onto the crook of your neck, sucking and nipping, sure to leave love marks on your skin as one of his hand reaches for your clit to trace lazy circles. The sex, as usual, is phenomenal and your back is arched in pleasure, legs folded as they hang over his sculpted shoulders.

A few soft whimpers fall from your mouth involuntarily at the undeniable pleasure you’re feeling and you bite down on your bottom lips to control your noises like always. Finnick cocks his head, his mouth momentarily detaching from your neck as his lips form that signature smirk which you are so familiar with. You’re confused as of what Finnick is doing but you’re way too cockdrunk to care. His thick and lengthy cock is pounding into you so well, grazing over your cervix with every thrust and you’re surprised that it isn’t bruised by now.

Finnick grabs a pillow from the side of the bed and swiftly places it under the small of your back as he lifts you up and places you back down with ease. Your mouth falls open and you forget about controlling your volume, a loud moan mixed with a gasp leaving your mouth. The pillow has put you in an even better position, raising your hips slightly so that each of Finnick’s thrust is angled to hit that spongey spot inside of you which makes your toes curl in pleasure and back arch further.

“Hmm honey, you like that, huh?” Finnick teases after seeing your reaction, and you can only nod as you attempt to babble something incoherently.

“F-fuck…Finny, s-so good” you mumble, your mind in a state of haze right now.

Hearing your words and the nickname that just fell out of your mouth, Finnick’s eyes immediately light up and an even bigger smirk replaces the former one on his face. Although you don’t realise in the moment that Finnick has bitten his lips at your comment, you sure can feel his reaction to it as his thick cock pulsates in arousal, causing your warmth to tighten around him, feeling every vein and curve.

“What was that sugar?” Finnick chuckles both smugly and proudly, “say it again for me”

“I-I….”

Only then do you realise what you’ve said and your cheeks immediately turn pink, a flustered look appearing on your face which Finnick finds so, so adorable. You struggle to find the right words to say, only blinking shyly as you attempt to cover your face, but Finnick pulls your hands away as he stares down at you with the same smirk.

“Don’t be shy honey, your whimpers and moans are music to my ears……besides, your voice turns me on so much, you have no idea.”

Finnick whispers into your ears, and you feel a tingling sensation in your stomach, ‘butterflies’ Finnick calls them. You blink, not knowing that that is what Finnick feels about the sounds you make, and it makes you feel better.

“Now..I’ll ask you again, sugar, what is it you called me, hmm?”

Finnick hums as he cocks his head with a small teasing smile, waiting for an answer.

“…Finny. I called you Finny..”

“Good girl.”

God save Finnick Odair from the things he is going to do to you.

———————————————————————————

A/N: to whoever had requested this, hope this is what you had wanted <3 Once again, all likes, reblogs, and follows are appreciated, so are comments!

[lust4lore]

(finnick + cockwarming pretty please i’ll give you my firstborn child)

anon, i’m in love with you. take all of the forehead kisses. all of them. (btw, call me when that child is born!)

A/N: originally, this was gonna be something where reader and finnick are at a party and it’s kind of public, he’s a little meaner, but i think voyeurism as well as denying his girl anything she wants is a little ooc for him so i chose this instead. i still have the outline of the og, though, so if you’d be interested in reading that and are willing to excuse it lmk!

CW: cockwarming— mind you, fluffy cockwarming, because it’s finn!

MDNI, not proofread i cba 😔🫶

finnick odair would do anything for you. shit, he’s braved hell and back twice just for the chance to catch a glimpse of you again. you’re his world, the love of his life, and the last thing he wants is to see you upset.

which is why, when you entered your shared bedroom with a quivering bottom lip and glistening eyes, he dropped everything immediately.

“hey, hey, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he had asked gently, brows pinching together as concern started seeping in. he beckoned you over to where he sat with open arms, and you gladly went. he pulled you onto his lap, warm hands cupping your face as he searched your eyes for any indication of what the problem could be. “talk to me,” he murmured, anxiety forming a pit in his stomach when you didn’t give him an immediate response.

it had been a long day. all the noise, all the people, all the feelings had gotten to you, and you just needed finnick. needed to turn off your brain in the way only he could. “jus’ had a busy day, too much going on and-” you sniffed, looking up into those sea green eyes and feeling a distant pang of guilt at the panic that was rising in them. “i need you, finn,”

realization flickered across his features and his lips parted before he pressed them together again, his gaze shifting from worried to conflicted. finnick never found it easy to deny you anything— and this wasn’t even something he wanted to say no to— but he had deadlines to fulfill, things that he couldn’t put off any longer. you knew that, you did, but you really were aching for whatever piece of him you could get.

and so, you end up here, still sat in his lap as he slowly presses into you, a quiet whine falling from your lips at the stretch. your face buries itself into his neck, hands bracing his shoulders. “finn,” your voice comes out strained and desperate, just above a whisper as you sink down onto him. “m’right here, sugar, i got you,” his hands rest on your hips, lightly squeezing them in encouragement. you continue to whimper as you take the rest of him, adjusting to the size. “i know, honey, i know,” he soothes, one of his hands coming up from your hips to rub your back.

a few minutes in, you’re a bit more mollified. your thoughts come to a slow, sticky pace, and suddenly, nothing seems so loud anymore. all that’s left in your head is finnick finnick finnick and the comfortable weight of him inside of you. “this what you needed, pretty girl? feel better?” his voice is low against your ear and you give a small nod, because yes, it’s exactly what you needed, but your words are kind of failing you at the moment.

you stay like that for god knows how long, his arm wrapped around your waist as he continues to work, your forehead resting on his shoulder. eventually, though, you shift a little, and it’s just enough to cause his cock to graze that sweet spot inside of you. his muscles tense underneath you as you tighten around him and he makes a sound in between a sigh and a groan, picking you up as though you weigh nothing. “what’re you doing?” you ask, your voice soft and dazed as he sets you down on the bed, hands slipping underneath your shirt and roaming further up as he starts trailing kisses down your neck. “taking care of my girl,” he tells you, and, well,

you’ll have to start having bad days more often.

[ervotica]

“C'mere, sweetheart-“ & “Breathe, just breathe-" with finnick please 🤍

a life of our own

pairing: finnick odair x reader

summary: finnick helps you find yourself again when you’re rescued from the capitol. you’re desperate to trust him again.

warnings: hurt/comfort, a lil fluff, a lil angst, r was tortured and brainwashed in the capitol after catching fire (i got sooo carried away with this but i luv it! hope you enjoy, please remember to like/comment + reblog!)

hunger games masterlist

Your chest is red-hot with anguish; it’s all you feel lately. Confined to this white room, locked in, spending all your time waiting for something that won’t come.

Nothing is real anymore. Your life is a thick fog that you can’t decipher, can’t tell which bits of it are real and which were planted by the Capitol. They made you a weapon against the revolution, against Katniss and Coin and Finnick.

You know him, that much is evident in your unconscious reactions. The way your chest tightens and squeezes when he walks into a room, how your breath catches and you hunger after his touch despite not knowing exactly why. But you know that he’s familiar and that - at one point or another - you loved him.

He visits routinely like clockwork, every day at around the same time. And each time you don’t push him away, don’t flinch at his touch like you do the others, his confidence grows.

Your doctor has been practicing memory games with you, which parts do your life are real and which are fabricated. You repeat them in your head over and over and sometimes they slip out when you’re talking, too. You’ve been incorporating opinions on top of the basic facts you know, and you’ve been including what you know about him.

You rock on the bed with your knees to your chest, feet tucked underneath you as you recite everything you can remember about him. You mutter it under your breath, tongue clicking as you whisper.

The door creaks and you stop dead mid-sentence. Finnick slips in without a word, pulling a chair up to sit by you. He doesn’t miss the way you eye him warily, watching every movement, every tick of his jaw and twitch of his muscles. You’ve always been perceptive- it’s one of his earliest memories of you. How you watch people.

He sits and watches you in return; you trace every inch of his body with your eyes, the bruises on his arms, the points of his shoulders, the slope of his nose and chin, the curve of his jaw.

“Finnick,” you say. He smiles; his fingers rest on the edge of the bed.

“That’s right.”

You reach out to touch him; he stays dead still as instructed by your doctors, but lets you lift his hand to place it in your own much smaller one. You turn so you’re sitting cross legged facing him, holding his hand in your lap. His heart could burst with the way you’re looking at him, a cocktail of fear and longing in your eyes. Something else lies deeper than that, like you’re being pulled through the rubble of your own mind and to the surface. Something a lot like love.

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice is small, more timid than he’s ever heard from you.

“Anything.”

“You love me. Real or not real?”

“Real,” he murmurs.

“I think I love you, too. I know I did before. I just don’t know which parts of my brain are real.” You fiddle with his fingers, the pad of your thumb rubbing over his knuckles methodically. If this is the only way you’ll ever touch him again, he’ll take it. He’ll take every scrap, every morsel of affection he can eke out of you. Whatever you’re comfortable with.

“We can figure that out together.” He’s soft as he speaks to you and it’s a voice that you remember. A very distinct one in your memory.

“Finnick,” you say again. He nods and shifts closer.

“Sometimes you call me Finn,” he starts, pressing lips to your knuckles. “Or honey. Or idiot if you’re mad at me.”

You smile and he catches a glimpse of you in there, engulfed by everything you’ve seen, everything you’ve been told. But he knows he can pull you out.

“I don’t think I’d ever be mad at you,” you mumble. He purses his lips thoughtfully.

“Well, sometimes I am an idiot. And I know you tell me that because you want to keep me safe.”

You’re in agreement there, not knowing everything but knowing undeniably that you would do anything to protect Finnick.

You shuffle over in the bed and tug at his arm. He tilts his head curiously, knowing what you’re asking but not wanting to be presumptuous.

“You want me to come sit up there with you, sweetheart?”

“Yes please.”

“Okay.” He settles himself next to you, legs outstretched where yours are tucked up tightly to your body. “If it gets too much, you tell me and I’ll go, okay?”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“Then I won’t.”

You shuffle round and swing your legs over his own so you’re almost completely in his lap; his arm comes up and over your shoulders automatically, like muscle memory. This is how you are in your clearest memories- together, a tightly knit partnership. He’s holding his breath, waiting for you to realise what you’re doing and lose composure, but that moment doesn’t come. You just sit and close your eyes, ear to his chest, listening to his heart beat.

“I’m tired,” you croak.

“You want me to leave you to sleep?”

“No.” Your voice is thick and uneven where you’re full of all these new emotions that you can’t quite place. “Will you stay?”

“I’ll stay as long as you want.”

He pulls the thin blanket over your body and smiles as you needle in close to him, face in the juncture of his neck. Hiding with him instead of from him.

“C’mere, sweetheart.” You relax at the pet name, your body going lax against his own as you start to fall asleep.

You can’t be asleep for more than 30 minutes before you start to stir. You’re muttering in your sleep as you start to twitch and reach out for something.

Your brow knits and it forms a crease in the middle of your forehead as you start to cry.

“Honey, c’mon,” Finnick murmurs, his hand pressed to your neck in an effort to rouse you. “It’s just a dream.”

His chest aches; he can’t bear seeing you in this state, knowing there’s not much he can do to make it better. Thinking it’s his fault for not getting to you in time.

You scream and wake with a start, wide-eyed and frantic. Your eyes flit around the clinical looking room as you try to gauge your surroundings and reorient yourself.

“Honey, it’s okay. It was just a dream, you’re safe.”

You scramble back and push him away, curling yourself up into a ball at the foot of the bed. Tears paint your cheeks and they shine in the harsh white lights, hiccuping sobs. He crouches a metre or so away, palms up, arms outstretched in hopes you’ll make contact again.

“Breathe, just breathe,” he says. “You’re okay. I’m here, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

You’re like a wild animal the way you look at him- panic-stricken and agitated, frenetic in the way you move.

“Honey, it’s me. It’s Finn.”

You swallow thickly and nod, your body slowly starting to unfurl.

“Finn,” you sniffle, holding out your arms. “Finnick.”

He creeps closer still and you practically throw yourself into his arms, face against the hollow of his throat, arms locked around his middle like a vice.

“I have you. I’m right here,” he says, over and over like a mantra. A promise.

“I don’t wanna live like this anymore.”

“You’re not going to,” he whispers. “I’ll be here until you feel well enough and then we can start planning our life. Together.”

“Okay.”

Your fingers card through the short hairs at the nape of his neck, wet eyes meeting his.

“I love you. I know it now, I can remember that.”

“I love you too,” he says, craning his neck to meet your eyes. “You’re my girl.”

You’re hesitant as you tilt your head up to press a kiss to his lips but he welcomes it, his thumb and forefinger holding your chin in place as he pecks you a few more times.

“We’re gonna have a life of our own, I promise.”

“A life of our own.”

[luxbub]

oooo can you do Virgin!reader with experienced Finnick?

a/n hii, thank you for the request, this was definitely the best thing to begin writing finnick with and it may not be the best thing youve read cause i’m still kinda figuring out his character, but i still hope you like it<3

also this is the longest smut i’ve ever written

virgin!reader and experienced Finnick

minors DNI +18

not proofread!!

So i kinda imagines this as a relationship between a mentor finick and tribute or victor reader, cause i feel like thats the most realistic one. I imagine that they would already be in a relationship, definitely said i love you’s already and are going for the next step. And even if you’re moving slow and want to take your time, i think that finnick would understand especially having in mind what he snow made him do, he definitely understands where you come from and why you want to take your time.

At first it was just an innocent make out session. You were sprawled out on finnick’s lap, with your thighs on either side of his, as he held an iron grip on the fat of your hips. Your fingers twisted in his hair, tugging from time to time, causing soft whimpers to tumble from his lips.

Now Finnick knew that you were a virgin since the beginning of your relationship , it was obvious by the way you were messily humping his thigh. But the self control was getting harder and harder to keep. Your sweet whimpers he swallowed, your soft whines anytime that he disconnected from your lips.

It was obsessive, the way Finnick couldn’t stop thinking about you, your scent, your touch, your pussy.

The pussy that he could feel throbbing even through the thick material of his pants and your panties.

He started kissing his way down to your throat, nipping at the spot just below your ear, making you moan and tug at the already gripped strands of hair.

You were whispering his name, begging him to touch you, the friction from his jean-clad thigh wasn’t enough for your achy cunt. Finnick’s pupils were blown from focusing so hard on the little mewls you made as your grinding became more desperate.

Finnick slid one hand down to your crotch as his fingers danced along the lacy line of your panties. He pushed his way into your cunt as you squirmed at the feeling of his cold fingertips on your hardened clit.

“You sure you want that, sweetheart?” You responded with a nod, too busy taking in the bliss from the little friction his hand was giving you. “I need to hear you say it.”

You almost screamed “y-yes, i want to feel you, finnick.”, looking at his smug face. Your eyes were starting to fill with tears from the pressure he was putting on your clit.

Your head is thrown back, spft moan spilling from your lips, as finick continues oushing his fingers in and out of you.

It came too soon, too fast. Your orgasm came, before you could latch onto finnick’s hand and beg him for more, his mouth was clashing into yours, tongues intertwined as you started unbuckling his belt the best you could without looking.

Soon enough both of you were panting as Finnick looked at your eyes searching for a hint of doubt, finding only pleasure and reassurance. So he guides his cock between your lips and bottoms out with a single thrust.

The feeling of your maidenhood breaking makes more tears well-up in your eyes as Finnick freezes asking if you’re sure you wanna keep going, but you only nod, knowing that you’ve been ready to take Finnick for weeks now.

Finnick groans, leaning his head onto your shoulder, your cunt was too much, too tight, he doubted he would last much longer if you continued squeezing him like that.

He softly starts thrusting more steadily as the pain turns into a pleasure and soon enough both of you are trying to shuffle each other’s moans.

Your breathing turns shallow, sharp breaths coming out of your mouths as your eyes don’t dare to leave each other. Finnick watches the way you squeeze your eyes or furrow your brows when he delivers a bit too hard of a thrust, but he presses his lips to yours, soothing you.

Your walls are fluttering around his dick as his starts hutting your cervix a bit too fast, going in so deep you never thought anyone could reach, but there he was Finnick Odair, stealing your breath with every thrust as you could feel your second orgasm coming closer and closer.

You were babbling, spit, that you didn’t know if it was yours or Finnick’s was coming out of your mouth “I—“ .

“I know, baby, me too.” His hips shutter for a second and that was enough to make your legs twitch and your vision cloud as you came around his dick.

Your walls squeeze him for one last time, before he grunts, clenching his teeth, as he pulls out, spruting tick ropes of white all over your stomach.

[ellecdc]

hi! idk if you're taking requests for finnick so feel free to ignore this but could you do a fic where they live in a nice little beach house by the water after the games and they have a nice little domestic life together

eeek I actually squealed out loud when I got a finnick request - thanks for indulging me!!!!! I hope I did him justice <3

Finnick Odair x fem!reader enjoying a domestic life post-rebellion [794 words]

CW: brief allusions to nightmares/trauma but nothing explicit, soft and fluffy vibes

You could feel the thick sea air settle on your skin as you stepped out into the rising sun; the sounds of seagulls that would probably irk anyone else brought an instant smile to your face. You knew most people viewed them as pests - and for the most part you were sure that they were - but to you, seagulls sounded like home; they sounded like Finnick.

Feet hitting the wooden deck that bridged the second story of your home to a short path to the beach, you let the door click audibly behind you ensuring your presence wouldn’t surprise him as you placed a cautious hand on your husband’s back. You smiled to yourself when he simply hummed contentedly before sliding your hands around his middle and locking them together against his stomach. 

“G’morning.” You murmured into the space between his shoulder blades.

“Good morning.” He greeted in turn, and even from the home you’d made along his spine, you could hear the smile in his voice. “Did you sleep alright?” 

You let out a noncommittal hum as you turned to rest your cheek against his broad frame, listening to the sound of his heart as you watched a few seagulls dance through the air in the distance. 

You suspected he knew that you hadn’t, you suspected he knew that you might never really sleep well again. But relief now came in the moments of lucidity; the here and the now that none of you ever dared to imagine for yourselves, that none of you ever believed possible. It was harder when both sleep and consciousness were nightmares, at least now you found refuge from them come morning. 

“You’re missing a great view.” He claimed as he gently unclasped your hands and pulled you in front of him, hardly giving you a moment to squint out at the rising sun before he was boosting you up onto the railing of the deck and positioning himself between your legs.

“What happened to admiring the view?” You asked as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“You are.” He responded simply, flashing a smirk as he met your gaze. 

“You’re awful.” You laughed.

“You love me.” He countered.

You couldn’t help but agree. “I love you.”

He hummed appreciatively before pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. 

“Did you sleep alright?” You asked in turn as he returned his forehead to yours and his thumbs idly traced shapes into your hips. 

He smiled to himself before he answered. “I woke up next to you.”

You nod. “Yes, you did.” 

“That’s my favourite.”

You let out a chuckle as you pressed your lips to his again, smiling as he hummed into the kiss. 

“Now that you’re up,” he started as he intertwined your fingers with his and held your arms out in a stretch, “I’m going to make you some coffee.”

“Oh?”

Finnick hummed in confirmation, bringing your hands back towards him and holding them against his chest. “Yup, and breakfast.”

“What if I wanted to make you coffee and breakfast?”

“Should’ve gotten up earlier, honey.” He offered with a flippant shrug of his shoulders, bringing one of your knuckles to his lips. “I don’t make the rules.” 

“You’re full of shit, Odair.”

“And then,” Finnick continued as he moved to press his fingers into your side chidingly; his smile growing wider at your squeals of laughter, “I want to go for a swim.”

You caught your breath as you ran your fingers through his curls; heart squeezing as he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. 

“That sounds really nice, Finn.”

“Would you come with me?” He blurted, not bothering to open his eyes as you caressed his face. 

“I’d love to.” You agreed. “I could make us some sandwiches to take with us too? Have a little picnic.” 

His smile turned soft as he slowly opened his eyes, looking at you with no shortage of love as his eyes darted to various parts of your face; as if he was memorizing your features, as if confirming it was really you, that you were really here, that you were really safe.

“That sounds perfect.”

You smiled.

“You’re perfect.” He continued. 

“You’re a flirt.” You murmured instead of saying thank you. 

Finnick beamed. “You love me.”

“I love you.” 

“Let’s get breakfast, then, so we can spend the rest of the day burning in the sun at the beach.” He proclaimed then, helping you down from the railing and patting your hip as he ushered you ahead of him.

“What’re you craving this morning, sweetheart?” He asked. “Sweet or savoury?” 

You let out an inelegant snort. “Sweet, obviously. Are you new here, Odair?”

That earned you a booming laugh in response. “My apologies, honey; I should have known better.”