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#finnick fic
wonderlandwalker · 4 months
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He Knows Better | Finnick Odair x Reader
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Summary: Finnick tells himself not to get close to you, because what is the point? But when you survive your games he finds that he can't stop thinking about you. When he finally comes to see you, you're in pieces, and he swears to himself he will put you back together, no matter the costs. Find part 2 here: Should've Known
Content Warnings/Tags: Mentions of prostitution/sex trafficking, angst, Finnick deserving better, crying, bad representation of a panic attack, not proofread
Word Count: 1.6k
Requested by Anon: I loveeeee love love love your Finnick fic. It was the perfect mix of sweet and so angstyyyyy !! I'm having constant Finnick brainrot 😭 I was wondering what you think about writing a finnick × reader fic sort of loosely based on Hozier's "It Will Come Back" where reader is maybe a tribute or another Victor and the first person to show Finnick softness and kindness without asking for anything in return in so long and he's like "dont let me in with no intention to keep me" and "dont be kind to me" and he just is totally feral and obsessed with the reader ? You're such a talented writer !! ❤️❤️❤️
A/N: There is this Dutch expression which goes ‘the monkey comes out of the sleeve’ loosely meaning the hidden meaning is revealed and I couldn't for the life of me think of the English equivalent that made sense to me, so, well, I hope the story is coherent. As usual, divider by @saradika
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He remembers first seeing you, you were so young, but to be fair, so was he. In previous years he had always become quick friends with the tributes he was supposed to mentor, how could he not? But it didn't take him long to figure out that they never made it back, and while the company was nice for a while, the hurt in the end wasn't worth it anymore. There's something about you that he can't quite place, but it doesn't matter, because he's not going to get attached. When you first stepped into the training hall you didn't look scared, you didn't even look excited, no, you looked like you had made peace. 
He didn't get to talk to you much, you spend most of your training with Mags, not learning how to fight, but learning how to survive. And every time he watched you, he watched how your eyes lit up when learned how to filter water, he watched how proud Mags was of you each time. And he felt something tugging at him, he felt a need to get to know you. But he knew better.
Because what were the odds, he had seen this before, he had done this before. No, he shouldn't get attached to you. And yet, for the first time after returning from his own, he found himself watching the games. Watching the tributes become fewer and fewer, hoping, praying, that you'd make it through. The fewer left the more desperate he became. You've gotten this far, don't let the luck run out just yet. He saw how your last opponent fell, and he saw your face in the centre of the screen, of virtually every screen. And once again, you didn't look excited, you looked like you had found peace again, and maybe, just maybe, he let himself believe he could too, that you could show him. 
He didn’t go see you after, it wouldn't be of any use. What more did he have to offer you, you did not need a mentor anymore. He had made peace, he had made peace with never seeing you again. So what was the difference if you were alive or not? That's what he thought, if he gave in now, he didn't think he'd ever be able to let go, it would keep coming back. 
It wasn't until a few months later when someone knocked on his door, and in a sleepy haze, he opened it without thinking. He had spent the night at the capitol, and he never managed to get much rest after. Usually, when he had been gone for the night, Mags would come to check in on him, and have Valerian tea with him. He doubted it actually worked, but the effort was enough to brighten his day. So he opened the door, but it wasn't Mags, it was you. Your face was fuller, it had more colour, but the bags under your eyes were still there. Would Mags bring you Valerian tea as well? No, no he needed to stop thinking about you. The last time he had actually seen you was when you won. He had forced himself to avoid you ever since, he hadn't been completely sure why anymore, but now he knew again. The way you looked at him gave him hope, hope he couldn't afford. “What do you want” he asked, he sounded upset, and in a way he was, but the way the sparkle in your eyes dimmed made him regret it. 
And so he opened the door further, stepping aside, and you didn't need more of an invitation before you walked in. You took a seat at his small kitchen table, and he decided it would be impolite not to join you, so he sat down as well. He was about to talk, but you beat him to the punch.
“Snow came to see me.” There is was he thought, the reason, everyone always had a reason. Still, he found himself allowing you to continue, wanting to hear your voice again, even if it brought bad news. 
“I talked to Mags about it, but she said I should come see you, so here I am.” You chuckled, but the situation was not something that asked for it, must be nerves, he thought, but why were you nervous, surely he didn't make you nervous. 
“Look, I don’t want to bother you with my problems Finnick, I know you're dealing with enough yourself, but I don’t know what else to do.” Your eyes glossed over, and you looked like you were about to start crying, but you didn't. He wanted to say something, to comfort you, but what was there to say? And so you two sat in silence, he was looking at you, he was memorizing your face. This was the last time he would let himself see you. He didn't want to get close to you, and with how mesmerizing you were to him, he knew better.
And yet, as days passed, he found himself thinking of you. Whenever he needed comfort, he thought of you, the way you smiled at him when he told you a nervous joke. He could get lost in the memory of your eyes, and more often than not, he did. Every day he spent without seeing you made his heart hurt. 
Without thinking, he found himself walking to your door. It was like he wasn't in control of his own feet. He was in constant agony with himself. He wanted to be with you, but your kindness was one he couldn't afford, because it had the power to break him. He knocked on your door, not even aware he was doing so until he heard the sound echo back to him. He heard rustling, but he didn't hear you approaching the door, so he knocked again, and for good measure, he decided to call out. “Y/n? It’s me, it’s Finnick”. He heard someone approach the door at that, and a little bit of hope sparked inside him that you wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see you, but he knew better. 
The door opened, but it wasn't you that he came face to face with, it was Mags. She was standing in your hallway with a sad smile on her face, and she didn't say anything, but she looked to the stairs on the right end corner. He didn't need any more encouragement, and he sped up them, taking two steps at a time. He knocked on the door he was in front of, but there wasn't an answer. But when he listened more closely, he could hear crying coming from the other side. You were crying. His mind was reeling with possibilities, but whatever it was that had caused this, he swore to himself he would fix it, even if it broke him. 
And so he entered the room, opening the door softly so as not to startle you, but it didn't matter. He saw you in the corner, you had pulled your knees to your chest and he couldn't see your face from where you had hidden it, but his heart broke over it nonetheless. He walked towards you, testing the waters, testing his luck. He was scared for you, but mostly, he was scared you wouldn't want to see him. When you heard him, your head shot up to look at him. The way in which your eyes were bloodshot and swollen made him want to punch a hole in the wall next to you. The way your voice cracked when you said his name made him want to curl up right next to you. he got closer to you, kneeling down in front of you. Allowing you to take the next steps on your own time.
After a few minutes, you had slightly calmed down while he was tracing patterns on your knee with his thumb. You spoke to him, but you didn't look him in his eyes.
“They’re bidding on me Finnick, they’re bidding on me like I’m something to possess”
The feeling of dread that came over him was something he had never felt before. He thought he had gone through all someone could. He thought there was nothing that could hurt him anymore in a way he didn't already, but he had been wrong. 
He was willing to do anything for you to be spared from this, but he knew it wasn't any use. 
He knew better. And so he did all he could, taking you in his arms and whispering reassuring words, until your crying and your shaking stopped, and you seemed at peace again. 
He had tried himself to get away from what snow had wanted, what the capitol had wanted, he tried everything he could think of, but he couldn't get away from it. He had made peace with the fact that people always wanted something from him, and maybe that's why he couldn't get you out of his head, because you were the only person that was at peace with him, without anything more, just him. So he told you the only thing he could. He told you he’d be there for you, that you’d get through it together. He wasn't sure if he believed it, but he knew it was what you needed to hear, it was what he had needed to hear, except there had been no one to tell him. He would spend the rest of his life wondering if you needed him.
But he won't shut you out again, he knows better.
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Part 2: Should've Known
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carnationhes · 2 months
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It's Not the Waking, It's the Rising
There are a half dozen other failed Mockingjays before the 74th Games. Finnick is one of them. Not the first, and certainly not the last. He’s just the first one that Haymitch notices.
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moonslesbology · 1 year
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if i write a finnick fic then what?
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ervotica · 5 months
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“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.
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bruisedboys · 5 months
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jealous finnick?
jealous finnick will be the death of me!!!!!!
finnick odair x fem!reader
Breakfast in District 13 is an unusual affair. Nothing like you’re used to, being from District 4. It’s the same every morning — boring grey oatmeal with either honey or berries, depending on the day. It’s only as you take your seat next to Finnick that you realise you’ve forgotten the very crucial toppings.
“Oh no, I forgot to get berries,” you bemoan. They’re definitely all gone by now, seeing as they’re in popular demand — the oatmeal served in 13 tastes like cardboard without them.
“Here, have mine,” Gale says from across the table. You open your mouth to protest but he’s already spooning a big heap of berries into your bowl. They bleed red and purple into your otherwise plain oatmeal. “I don’t like ‘em, anyway. Too sour.”
“Oh.” You smile at him, flattered. Gale’s been nothing but kind to you since you arrived in District 13. You haven’t put it down to anything other than friendliness. Though it’s possible you’re too enamoured with the blonde next to you that you’re completely oblivious to other men’s advances. “Thanks, Gale.”
Gales smiles back and shrugs. “No problem, Y/N.”
Next to you and unbeknownst to you, Finnick scowls. He hates that Gale’s so nice to you. Loathes it. He knows it’s because you’re a ray of sunshine who draws even the coldest of people in (believe him, he’s experienced it), but the fact that Gale gave you his berries before Finnick could even offer his makes his blood boil. 
Who does he think he is? Everyone knows you’re Finnick’s girl, he’s made it very clear. It’s the whole reason you’re here, after all — Finnick specifically requested you be picked up from home before the Quarter Quell ended, to prevent anything from happening to you.
Breakfast passes without further incident. If you notice Finnick’s sour mood, you don’t mention it. You’re leaving the canteen with everyone else when Finnick grabs your waist and pulls you to the side, into an empty hallway. He peers over your shoulder to make sure Gale’s good and gone, watching the back of his head with a glare that could kill, before turning his attention to you.
“Finnick,” you say, clearly confused at his sudden manhandling. “What’s the matter with you? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Finnick says shortly.
“You look mad.”
“I’m not.”
You squint at him. “You’re definitely mad. Why are you—?”
Finnick forgoes restraint and yanks you forward, pressing his mouth to yours before you can say anything else. His chest burns with molten hot jealousy, it climbs up his throat and pours into the kiss, hot and sticky. The heat ebbs though, when you kiss him back just as fervently, replaced by a fuzzy warmth only you can make him feel. It buzzes in his chest and down his arms, flares out his palm as he takes your face into one hot hand.
He pulls back just as suddenly as he’d drawn in. “You know Gale’s flirting with you, right?” He says abruptly, thumb pressed to your cheekbone.
You blink up at him, still dazed from his kissing. “What?” You ask, half laughing. “No, he’s not.”
“He is. He gave you his berries. I was going to give you mine.”
You raise both eyebrows. “He was just being nice to me.”
“Yeah, well, that’s my job.”
Finnick supposes he sounds quite pathetic. He doesn’t really care, not when your eyes go all gooey and you reach up on your tiptoes to push a curl from his forehead.
“Are you jealous?” You ask him softly, tucking his hair behind his ear. Your breath fans over his mouth and your hand lingers at his throat. “You sound jealous.”
Finnick rolls his eyes. “So what if I am? Just— have mine next time, okay?”
You smile at him, pretty as starlight. “Okay. But you don’t have to be jealous, you know? I only want you.”
Woah, Finnick thinks. “I know,” he says, too quick, his voice a notch too high.
You raise your eyebrows at him. “Do you though?” You ask, definitely teasing now. He supposes he got off lucky, you could’ve done much worse finding out he’s so sickeningly jealous over Gale, of all people.
Still, Finnick narrows his eyes at you. “Alright, that’s enough.”
Your answering giggle is smothered as Finnick swoops in to kiss you again.
-
thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if u enjoyed 🤍
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xspeter · 1 month
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do yall ever think about the jaw dropping fics that are probably sitting collecting dust in someone’s drafts rn.
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liseytopia · 4 months
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──��★
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𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐜𝐬.
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.
───★
ʚ © this subject is copyright to liseytopia. : do not copy, translate, or steal my writing. ɞ
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quicksilversg1rl · 5 months
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if this man snuck up on me like this???
trust id be grinding my ass back on that dick like there’s no tomorrow 😭
i’ll be giving myself and that mf CARPERT BURN but idgaf🤣🤣
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avoxrising · 5 months
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The Feral One
Finnick Odair x Reader
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Wattpad Link
Series Masterlist:
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
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mayfieldss · 5 months
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Labyrinth - Finnick Odair
Warnings: mentions of blood, trauma and abuse.
Summary; when you're name is called during the reaping, Finnick promises to stay by your side till the end.
"I thought the plane was going down. How'd you turn it right around?"
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Finnick Odair woke up in a different bed that morning than the one he would sleep in tomorrow. Not that he'd be doing much sleeping either way. He felt as though he never slept anymore, not since he was 14, not since before he knew how to kill.
It was engraved in his mind, and when he looked down, if he stared at them long enough, he could still see the faint outlines of blood on his hands. It would darken the more he watched, fingers flexing with the red paint that had once been a part of someone. But he always managed to look away, to push past it. He'd made it through and never had to go back, except in his nightmares and memories.
You had never once been in the games, and you never wanted to be. It was every logical persons fear, and even with a district full of careers such as the one you lived, you never saw the nobility in killing. In being killed. Finnick Odair was a victor, someone who too young, had done what you'd never dreamed of doing. He'd had his time in the games, and he'd made it out the other side, and just as the capitol had done, you fell for him. You hadn't intended to, and when he returned from the games you never thought to bat an eye at the boy, but he'd sought you out, and won your heart in some way.
And so began a semi-secret relationship full of late nights, long talks and long kisses. Finnick waking with shouts, sweating through the sheets, each dream he had plagued with the memories of what he'd done. Years finding themselves passing before you managed to get Finnick to open up about what happened in the games, and what was still happening now that he'd won. But on occasion things were sweet. Sunny mornings with Finnick's arm around your waist, his lips on yours and his signature smile shining through.
It was a similar warm morning on the day of the reaping. The reaping you still had to participate in, for one more year. The reaping Finnick never had to be a part of again.
The sun was beating down to your surprise, and there wasn't a cloud to be seen, unlike in previous years. It was as though the earth was giving you a sign, "you'll be fine, it won't be you, one more of these inhumane assemblies and your name will be gone from that stupid glass bowl."
That's what Finnick had said to you more or less. He'd gone to every reaping, even after he was safe from the things, and had kept an eye on you, like a guardian angel. It was almost as if when he was there, your name couldn't possibly be read out on that stage. Almost.
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Finnick is more than sure his chest has just been torn open, the words a hatchet to his heart, digging deeper and deeper as the seconds fly past. He's bleeding out, metaphorically, on the stage at which he stands and never more than now has he wanted to burn said stage to the ground. He watches, for mere moments as you wander up the steps to meet him, the tears on his cheeks matching the ones on your own. The one he loves chosen as tribute for the games he had yet to escape. The games he'll never escape. He wants to shout protest, he wants to grab you, pull you away from all of it, but as the salt from his eyes meets his lips, he can only mouth simple words to you. 'It's going to be okay.'
He can't stop any of this, can't pull you from the games, but he can take the only risk possible. The one he was trained to, but never had to take. So when the name of district fours unlucky boy is called, Finnick volunteers. He still has a year of eligibility left, just as you do, and the tears that flow from him when you scream can't be forced to a stop. You're shouting as he steps up beside you, beating your fists against his chest as he pulls you in.
"What are you doing?" it's half scream half sob, your voice cracking with heartbreak as a man at the microphone announces the end of the reaping. "What are you doing—no, no he's not a volunteer, it can't work like that, it doesn't!" Your shouts are piercing, frown deep and secure, vision blurred by tears and pain. But Finnick has volunteered, and as the capitols golden boy he has no doubt Snow will allow the engagement. The president had been selling him off for support for years, and there was no way the white haired man was stopping now.
The peacekeepers by the edges of the stage moved forward like zombies, attempting to pull you from Finnick's grasp and take you to your next destination. But Finnick isn't ready either.
"Don't." His voice is full of force when the peacekeepers lay hands on you, "Give us a minute, just one." He doesn't expect it to work, you're still on the stage with him, the scene a public spectacle, though many of the people are being escorted away by now. Finnick doesn't know if the broadcast is still going, if the capitol can see just how much pain he's in, just how much hurt they've all caused. He can't bring himself to care either way. The peacekeepers, to his surprise, have taken a step back, though they're still close by. The doors to the justice building stand open, a dark yawning mouth waiting to be entered.
"I wasn't going to let you go in there alone." his voice is gentle, and he can feel his hands shaking as you pull back from his embrace. Your eyes look empty, broken in a way he's never seen them before.
"You made it out once, they won't let you do it again." your chest heaves with heavy breaths that you don't bother trying to suppress as the man you love brings a hand up to your cheek.
"I'm getting you out of this alive, I don't care how I get it done." it's a hopeless thing to say, Finnick knows that even if he were to get you out alive, you would still be subject to the suffering that comes after the game itself. "And when you get out," He's lowered his voice to a whisper only you can hear, his forehead pressed to yours. "you're going to get yourself far away from here. You're going to run and never look back. Don't take the house in victors village, don't take the money. Just run. You're going to run."
His muscles are tense and his heart pounds as your arms slide back around him. He hasn't lost you yet.
"We're getting out of this together, or I'm not coming out of the games at all." You mumble, voice still shaking against his shoulder. He hates the way you say it, like it's a definite that you'll both survive. That hope—the hope you give him—is deadly. But he runs with it anyway, despite his doubts and fears. It's all he has left, other than you.
"Together?" He tries for a smile, but it dies on his lips as the peacekeepers shuffle forward once more. Time is up.
"Together." You whisper back.
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GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreadss @hiya-itsamber @s00buwu @hiya-itsamber
HUNGER GAMES TAGLIST: empty
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sublimecatgalaxy · 4 months
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Finnick and maybe like arguing in the arena that turns into a kiss?👀
It's been a few months since I got this but since I'm in my Finnick era, I thought I'd finally write this!
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"You need to slow down," Finnick mutters under his breath and reaches out to grab at my wrist, stopping me in my tracks as I nearly trip over a branch that's stuck in our path. My head whips around to look at him with a deadly look at he pauses before his cocky grin takes over once more.
"Maybe you need to pick up the speed." I snap, tilting my head at him in a calculated way and he laughs, shrugging his shoulders brifely before looking around at the others with a tired look on his face. We're twenty minutes into the games and we're already at each others throats.
You should've seen us in training.
"You know, when I agreed to team up with you and the others, I didn't think I'd be bullied the whole time." He crosses his arms across his chest with his nose in the air and I scoff, rolling my eyes at his taunting behavior.
"I'm not bullying you. Pointing out that you're too fast is a fact." He shots back and laughs and I turn to look at Katniss with a dumbfounded look but she just gives me a shrug but I can see Peeta attempting to hold back an obvious laugh.
"Finnick, shut up." I finally say, huffing shortly.
"You guys sound like a married couple." Peeta adds and I look to him with wide eyes and Finnick gives him a similar look with a small gasp.
"Shut up!"
I let the thought infiltrate my head for a moment, picturing Finnick and I, standing hand in hand, smiling instead of biting each other's head off every five seconds whenever we're in the same room together. We've known each other for years, through the capital and what they used us for, but now that I think of it, I don't think we've ever had a serious conversation.
"You guys can go ahead, I need to slap some sense into this kid." I wave the rest of the group away from us and they all give the two of us a hesitant nod before moving along the trail, still ever so careful, leaving Finnick and I behind.
"You have me alone. It's what you've always wanted, right sweetheart?" He flirts and I can't deny the way it makes my stomach flip and for a moment I can feel my cheeks heat up under his weighted gaze and I swallow deeply.
"You're insufferable." The words come out more breathy than I want them too and I almost want to tell them that now is not the time to decide to flirt with me and sweep me off my feet. There's more time for that, when we're free and the revolution has begun. But apart of me is selfish.
"You're beautiful." He takes a step towards me with a sinister smile and I feel my breath being sucked from my lungs as his hand reaches up to cradle my cheek softly and he gives me a small wink before leaning in and I panic.
"Finnick." I place my hand on his chest and he pauses for a moment but I don't push him away, instead, after just a moment of hesitation, I give him a gentle nod.
He leans in and presses his lips to mine, my lips instinctively parting to deepen the kiss with a smile, his other hand wraps around my back, pulling me closer to him and I can only imagine the cameras zooming in on us and all our sponsors cheering and sending us goods as we kiss.
He pulls away with a smile, his eyes staying closed for just a moment before they open, blue hues focusing on mine as I raise my hands to my cheeks, concealing my giddy smile.
"Shut up."
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mrs-kmikaelson · 8 months
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Our Song and Dance³
Pairing: Finnick Odair x reader Summary: You'd grown used to dancing the same dance over and over again, the victor's dance, but then you start dancing with Finnick Odair and you feel things you never thought you'd feel. So you let yourself enjoy the dance, even though you knew that every song inevitably came to an end. Warnings: long, exploitation of minors, mentions of forced prostitution, suicidal thoughts, implied torture, violence, complicated relationships, complex mental health issues, and i involve finnick more in everything Words: 8.1K
Masterlist | Part 4
a/n: switching it up, so this part is from finnick's pov. it's basically mockingjay one, then i'll do one more part for mockingjay 2. ly guys!
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Finnick Odair was not sure that love existed. Or, at least he wasn’t. He could barely remember what his parents looked like, let alone if they loved each other. But he had Mags; she proved to him that love existed because he loved her. It was the falling in love that he was unsure about.
And then he met Annie Cresta and it was like he suddenly understood. Yes, this was what the poets were talking about. This was love. 
But they couldn’t be together.
He was being sold off all the time, taking countless visits to the Capitol. He couldn’t endanger her like that, let her get involved in the fucked up world he lived in. So he didn’t. He loved her from afar, knowing they’d never really be together.
He thought it’d end there, but then one night, he saw you. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was all his own will, but he walked up to you. He’d seen you at these events before, back home, and on TV, but standing there so close to you, it was like it was just hitting him how beautiful you were.
You were a victor, too. But he realized just how alike you were when he watched as you left a hotel room, in the same state as him. After that, it was you who took a chance on him until he almost looked forward to coming to the Capitol, just to see you.
You weren’t Annie. You didn’t remind him of what poets had written. No, he couldn’t describe you or what you meant to him in just words. What he grew to feel for you over time wasn’t akin to anything he’d ever read. This was so much more than that.
He loved Annie, he always would, but being with you made him realize what it was like to be in love.
But he never told you this, never said any of it out loud out of fear that he’d lose you.
Now he lost you, anyway.
The doors to his hospital room opened. He knew it was Katniss, but he didn’t say anything, staring right at the ground in front of him.
If he looked hard enough, he could see your face.
“Finnick.”
He looked up from his feet, but still didn’t look at her. He already knew what she looked like, and it wasn’t much better than him.
She was mad at him. She’d barely spoken to him since they got to 13, but he knew that she couldn’t have been much more mad at him than he already was at himself.
His voice was quiet when he spoke. “I wanted to go back for them—for Peeta, and Johanna, and Y/N… but I- I couldn’t move.” He twiddled his fingers with the rope in his hands, wishing it was your hand he was holding, but he wasn’t. You weren’t there. He left you.
He finally looked up at Katniss. She looked both emotionless and so emotional at the same time, lifeless but alive. “I- I love her, y’know?” He looked back down at the knot he was tying, sniffling involuntarily.
He was trying to keep it together, but without you, that was like trying to fix a broken glass without any glue. 
You were the glue that held him together.
And now the Capitol had you.
The words left his lips without much thought. “I wish she was dead.” He chose to stare at a spot on the ground instead of looking at Katniss’ reaction. His chest tightened. “I wish they were all dead and we were, too.”
If they had died, then at least they wouldn’t have been going through this, having to live but feeling so dead, anyway.
Katniss was silent until he eventually heard her leave the room.
There were words she didn’t say that still floated around the room, agreement that she didn’t voice. She was just as broken as him, holding on for dear life. He hoped that she’d keep holding on.
He had to have hope. He had to have hope that he’d see you again, that this wasn’t all for nothing, that they could build a better world that you could both live in. He needed to hope.
That hope was the only thing that kept him holding on, too.
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He was in the cafeteria, sitting next to Katniss and Annie when it happened. The fanfare started playing, Caesar Flickerman’s face coming to the screen. He scoffed, tuning out and looking back down at the food on his plate, swishing it around. Recently, it had been hard for him to work up an appetite.
He looked back up when Katniss grabbed his hand, hers trembling. He soon realized why.
It was Peeta, on the Capitol TV.
Katniss got up, walking to the TV and standing right in front of it, shocked. He would’ve gotten up and followed her, tried to console her, but it was as if he was paralyzed.
Peeta was on the TV.
And you were nowhere in sight.
He heard the conversation that had everyone on the edge of their seat through muffled ears. Peeta didn’t look exactly like himself, but he still looked like the golden boy Panem fell in love with. It was so obvious that the Capitol was using him, playing him like a puppet, but what confused him was that they were using him and not the much more powerful weapon they had in their arsenal.
You were the Princess of Panem. Plutarch and Coin knew that; that’s why they wanted you. Katniss could light a fire, but if they also had you, then together you could cause an explosion. If the Capitol wanted to sway public opinion, why wouldn’t they just use you, someone who the people trusted and adored?
Suddenly, his stomach fell.
If they weren’t using you, then it was because you weren’t in a condition to be shown to the public.
He felt a hand on his, turning his head to see it was Annie, looking at him with a sympathetic expression. As if she could hear his thoughts, the smallest of sad smiles grew on her lips.  “It’s gonna be okay, Finnick,” she whispered. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
How the tables had turned. Now it was her assuring him.
In that moment, he understood Annie like never before.
Because he wasn’t so sure she was right.
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After Peeta’s interview, Finnick didn’t leave his room much. He’d lie in bed and stare up at the ceiling, pretending that you were there with him. He could withstand the silence if he had you by his side.
But now, the silence was deafening.
Sometimes, he didn’t hear a thing. Other times, your voice would fill the gaps, memories of you flashing before his eyes like a movie. Sometimes, they weren’t memories at all. Sometimes, he imagined a different life for you where you were both happy, in love.
And, sometimes, he imagined what they could’ve been doing to you in the Capitol.
Whenever these awake-nightmares got too vivid, he’d find Katniss and sit with her, knowing she must have been going through the same thing. It was what you would’ve done, what you did with him and Johanna.
You wouldn’t have wanted them to suffer alone.
The next time he was around everyone else, it was per Coin’s request. She announced to them all that Katniss agreed to be The Mockingjay and that, in return, she’d look for an opportunity to extract you, the victors that had been taken.
Katniss moved next to him. “Finnick, I made the deal for Y/N, too.”
It was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Hope—this was hope.
“Good,” he said. For the first time since he left the arena, he smiled. “That’s good, Katniss.” A small chuckle left him.
Maybe he’d get a chance to make those dreams of his a reality.
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With a newfound ardour, Finnick threw himself back into the ring instead of avoiding the fight like he had been, sitting in on meetings and doing whatever he could to make this work. He would see you again; he’d make sure of it. 
He went with the propo team to 8, watching as the Girl on Fire did exactly what they’d all been waiting for her to do. He wasn’t the only one that was hopeful—so were people in the districts, the people in 13.
They played her propo at the next assembly. The crowd cheered, but as he stood with The Mockingjay herself on the sidelines, she didn’t look so cheerful. Finnick understood this, he understood it well, but he couldn’t afford to think like that with your life hanging in the balance.
She shouldn’t have to either, he thought.
He leaned closer to her, quizzing, “You don’t like hearing a fight song at a funeral, huh?” She looked up at him almost in the same way she did when he made that joke in the arena. At the memory of your response, a small smile arose on his face. “The more people on our side, the closer we are to Peeta and Y/N,” he reminded her.
She nodded, muttering, “Yeah,” and then turning back to the crowd. She didn’t look so convinced, but he left it there, knowing she was coping with this in her own way.
If Katniss loved Peeta even half as much as he loved you, then he’d let her do whatever she felt comfortable with.
But at the end of the day, it was love that kept them both going.
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The next time Peeta was on TV, it was a wake up call for everyone. He didn’t look so refined anymore, so clean. There were bags under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept or eaten in days.
If this was what Peeta looked like and they still had him on TV, then what about you? 
A bile rose in his throat. He ran to the nearest trash can and threw up whatever they served that morning for breakfast, your face flashing underneath his eyelids. You weren’t smiling like in the dreams he had, but screaming.
He knew you weren’t dead, that the Capitol wouldn’t kill you, but when he pictured your face, you didn’t look so alive.
Oh, he wished he could’ve made you smile more. But in the world you lived in, sometimes it was too hard to even do that.
That’s why we’re doing this, he reminded himself. We’re trying to build a better world. But there were no words that Coin could say to shake the guilt he felt, guilt for leaving you, guilt for being the reason this happened to you. There was no band-aid he could put over this wound, no pills that could kill this pain.
But he had to push through it, and he couldn’t do that by sitting in his room by himself; every time he closed his eyes, he saw you. So he went to Katniss’ room, finding her in a position so similar to his own.
That was the man she loved on TV, even if she hadn’t come to terms with her feelings. She must have been just as guilty as him, if not more so. Finnick could remember a time when he rejected his feelings for you, too, scared of caring for somebody, scared of this happening.
He went through the Hunger Games and the Quarter Quell, being sold when he was only sixteen, but falling in love with you was the scariest thing he’d ever experienced.
If that’s how Katniss felt, then he didn’t want her to be alone, not when she reminded him so much of you.
So he sat next to her in silence, letting all of the words he wanted to say hang in the air, hoping that she heard them. They sat there wordlessly until Gale came in, telling them it was time to go, that they were going to 12.
It was only when he was about to leave that he finally spoke, deciding that these were words he had to make sure that she heard, words that he needed to hear, too.
“We’re gonna get them back, Katniss.” 
She looked at him, forming somewhat of a smile and nodding. After staring at her for a few seconds, he left the room, going to get ready.
She didn’t know it, but the entire hovercraft ride on the way to 12, he repeated those same exact words to himself over and over again.
We’re gonna get them back.
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While nothing could really ease Finnick’s worries, seeing the people fight back certainly helped. The revolution was picking up traction. The videos they shot in 12 had moved people so much that they were willing to put themselves at risk, just out of hope for a better Panem.
If they could do that, then he could, too.
He wondered if you knew about any of this, if you were even aware of what was happening or if the Capitol was just keeping you in the dark. Did you know? Did you hear Katniss sing?
Did it remind you of him the same way it reminded him of you?
He had so many questions, and so little answers.
Rebels in district 5 bombed a hydroelectric dam, cutting power in the Capitol. Not long after, Peeta Mellark was back on TV, talking about it. He no longer even looked like himself. He didn’t look like a victor, but like someone who had lost.
But Finnick supposed that was what a victor was.
Beetee managed to get through the Capitol’s firewall, cutting Peeta off with Katniss’ propo. They watched as tears filled his eyes on screen.
That was the first time he looked like himself.
Are you, are you comin’ to the tree?
He faltered. “Katniss?”
Finnick watched as Katniss got closer to the screen, shaking her head. She saw it, too. She saw the man that went into that arena with them.
But then, like a victor would, his mask went back up so quickly. 
“The attack on the dam was a callous and inhuman act of destruction-”
Where a dead man called out for his love to flee.
Peeta inhaled shakily, his lips so slightly quivering. “Think about it,” he said. “How will this end? What will be left?” Finnick walked closer to the screen, like he was caught in a trance. Peeta’s previously calm façade had broken and was replaced with someone who looked stricken by panic. “No one can survive this. No one is safe now. Not here in the Capitol.” He shook his head. “Not in any of the districts.” 
He stopped, looking right into the camera as if he was staring into Katniss’ eyes. He may not have known it, but he was.
“They’re coming, Katniss. They’re gonna kill everyone.” They heard quick footsteps behind the camera as Peeta rushed to get his words out. “And in district 13 you’ll be dead by morning-”
Then the camera cut out.
Finnick didn’t know what to say, glancing over at Katniss to see her cupping her mouth in shock.
Haymitch was much more calm. With Katniss spinning out, he had to be. “He’s warning us. That was a warning.” Behind him, Boggs said something in agreement.
Katniss looked to have gotten over her shock, frantically turning and fretting, “We have to get him out before they kill him.” She was ignored.
What about you? he wondered. Where did this leave you? But right now, what they needed to worry about was where it left them.
Otherwise, you wouldn’t have anything to come home to.
“It’s time for an air raid drill.” Seconds after Coin spoke, an alarm went off. Everyone that’d been fixed to their spot in the room was up, like they’d been preparing for this for a lifetime, and from what he heard, they had been.
Katniss went running, searching for her sister while he went looking for Annie and Mags, grabbing them and descending down the stairwell as soon as he saw them. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, his mind blank, just as it was in the arena.
If he let his thoughts take control, then he’d lose it, and he couldn’t do that right now. He couldn’t slip up right now with what was at stake.
It was your life on the line.
He couldn’t lose you.
But a part of him knew that, the second you were in Snow’s hands, the you that he knew was lost forever.
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Down in the bunker, Finnick sat on the bottom bunk with Mags off resting by herself while Annie had fallen asleep at the top. Sometimes, with her episodes, it was easy to forget that she was a victor, too, that she had danced the same dance you had. But she was, and she was dancing like never before.
He could tell that she had been trying hard to keep it together, but with all of the panic and the noise, it was hard. She fell asleep easily. 
Although the bunker was pretty quiet, his thoughts were still so loud. The last time he saw you played out in his head. He could still taste your lips on his, still feel your soft skin, still see your beautiful eyes.
I’ll see you at midnight?
Yeah, I’ll see you at midnight.
But he didn’t. He never saw you again. He would’ve never let you go if he’d known then what’d happen. He would’ve held you longer, kissed you longer. He would’ve told you he loved you.
If he’d known this’d happen, he would’ve told you long before The Games. The truth was, he couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he fell in love with you. It had always been Annie for him, and you were just there.
But that was exactly it. You were there. You were always there. 
Maybe he started falling for you after the first time you slept together. Maybe it was after your fifth time mentoring together. Maybe it was after the time he had a nightmare and you let him hold you. Maybe it was after you smiled, and really smiled, for the first time since you decided to start pretending to be a couple. He couldn’t be sure, but somewhere along the way, you became so much more to him than just Y/N Y/L/N, Princess of Panem and victor of the 67th Hunger Games.
You became the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
He just wished he could’ve told you that.
He was pulled out of his thoughts when someone walked up to him. “Hey.” He looked up, seeing Katniss. She looked beat, her voice quiet. “Can I sit?”
He nodded, moving over so she could sit next to him. She had her family down here, that’s why he hadn’t gone over to her, but he understood why she was coming to him. After going through what they went through, it was easier to be around people who went through the same thing, who were going through the same thing.
Like she was reading his mind, she asked, “Are you thinking about her?”
There wasn’t any need for further explanation. Truthfully, he answered, “Yeah,” looking down at the ground. Every moment he had that wasn’t dedicated to this revolution was spent thinking about you.
After a second, she spoke up again. “Snow’s using her to punish you. He’s taunting us with them.” She scoffed a little. “I didn’t understand that until just now watching that stupid cat.”
She was right. This wasn’t just about propaganda. This was about Snow’s little puppets misbehaving.
So now he was showing them that, even in 13, he still owned them. He still owned Finnick. He still owned Katniss. He still owned Johanna. He still owned Peeta. And he still owned you.
He was using you against him because he knew how much you meant to him, the same way he knew how much Peeta meant to Katniss, even if she didn’t see that herself.
Finnick sighed, debating on whether or not he should say what he was thinking or keep it to himself before deciding that he had held enough in, that holding his thoughts in had never done him any good. So he turned to Katniss and started, “I- Y/N and I, we hadn’t met until after she won her Games. We weren’t really friends, at first, but rumours start fast in the Capitol, especially when ‘royalty’ is involved.” He humourlessly chuckled. “People were saying that we were dating, and so she- she thought the best thing for us to do was to let them believe it, let them have their love story. The alternative, two people coping together- that was a lot darker than what the Capitol could handle.”
She tilted her head, furrowing her brows. He watched as she put it all together. “Wait, are you saying that…”
He nodded. “Yes. It was fake. Our love story was just that: a story.” Surprise was painted all over her face.
“But… you told me that you love her.”
A ghost of a smile came to his face. “I do. I love her. It wasn’t like that at first, but over time, I fell for her, Katniss.” He saw a look pass over her face: understanding. What he was describing wasn’t just you and him; it was her and Peeta. “Y/N and I, we learned how to play the game. If anyone could spot a fake relationship, it was us. After your first Games, we thought your whole romance was an act. We expected you to continue that strategy. But it wasn’t until Peeta’s heart stopped and he nearly died that… I knew I’d misjudged you. You love him.”
Katniss looked away, like what he was saying was something she’d never even considered. It was so clear to everyone that she loved him, everyone but herself.
“I’m not saying in what way,” he added, understanding her feelings so well because he’d right where she was. “Maybe you don’t even know yourself. But anyone paying attention can see it.” He maintained his stare, even as she looked away.
With the life they lived, you didn’t want to give yourself to love, to admit that to yourself, to allow yourself to be vulnerable. But you could only hide a love so strong for so long.
She swallowed, gaze still aimed at the floor. “How do you live with it?”
You’re asking the wrong person, he thought, but that wasn’t an acceptable answer. That wasn’t the answer she was looking for. Right now, Katniss was lost; he needed to point her in the right direction.
Even if he still had trouble doing that for himself.
He paused for a moment, searching for the right words to say. “I drag myself outta nightmares and there’s no relief in waking up,” he confessed. “But I- sometimes, when I’m awake, I let myself dream about her.” Finally, she looked over to him. “I dream that, one day, when this is all over, we’re living in a better world, happy.” The corners of his lips quirked up at the thought. “It’s hope, Katniss. That’s how I live with it.”
Katniss eyes were dull, red, tired, but even in the darkness of the bunker, he was able to see a tiny spark light up in her eyes.
Hope.
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They’d fallen asleep in the bunker along with everyone else until Finnick woke up to Boggs shaking him, telling him that they had to go. Coin wanted Katniss to get in front of the camera, tell Panem that they were still standing after the attack.
But, as soon as they stepped outside, he watched her fall apart.
Roses.
A rose?
They’re a Capitol favourite.
You hated roses. Looking at them himself, he couldn’t even blame Katniss. He felt sick, too.
She couldn’t do it. She was almost hysterical, so of course Boggs let her go. They couldn’t put her on TV when she was like this. But they also didn’t have time to wait.
With Katniss gone, Haymitch and Boggs pulled him aside to a briefing room, getting started on a new plan.
“Okay, what are we doing?”
They gave each other a look, much like the look Plutarch and Haymitch traded right after the Quell, like they knew something he didn’t, like they were getting ready for him to explode.
“Finnick, the dam that went down in district 5 cut power in most of the Capitol,” Haymitch started. “Their defences are down—Beetee’s gonna be able to get in now.”
His brows furrowed. He already knew that. 
Sensing his confusion, Boggs cut in, “We’ve gotten word that the victors are in the Tribute Centre.”
Suddenly, it was like his heart stopped.
You were coming home.
He echoed his thoughts. “You’re going to get them?”
“Yes, I’ll be leading the mission-”
“Well, I’m coming.” Again, they both shared a look, like they were expecting him to say that, and why wouldn’t they? You were his girlfriend; of course, he wanted to be there to save you. 
“Finnick-”
He cut Boggs off a second time, repeating himself, “I am coming with you.”
“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”
He scoffed. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Finnick-”
“If you’re going to get Y/N, then I’m coming with you-”
“You are too valuable to this revolution for them to let you go,” Haymitch said, but Finnick really couldn’t give a damn about whatever reason they threw at him. You were all he could think about.
“I’m not just gonna sit here and do nothing while they’re being rescued,” he retaliated. For over a month, sitting around and doing nothing was practically all he’d been doing, fantasizing about you, unknowing of when he’d see you again or if he’d ever see you again, trying to imagine what you could’ve been going through.
He couldn’t just stand by while you were in a live or die situation.
If you died- no, he cut his thoughts off, refusing to finish the sentence.
You couldn’t die.
Haymitch sighed, glancing away before looking back at him. His eyes were always hard, but at that moment, Finnick saw flashes of sympathy. “You won’t be doing nothing.”
His eyes slightly narrowed. “What do you mean?”
The two shared another look before he told him, “Katniss can’t record right now. But you can.”
Another scoff left his lips, an incredulous look on his face as his voice was laced with sarcasm. “You want me to film a propo while you save Y/N?”
Haymitch didn’t respond right away, just staring at him like he was trying to properly articulate his words. The way he was looking at him unnerved him, like whatever he was gonna say could shatter him into a million pieces.
“Not a propo, Finnick,” he finally said, hesitation evident in his tone. “It’s a lot more than that.”
And, as Haymitch explained to him what they wanted him to do, Finnick learned just how much more that was.
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Finnick Odair. That was a name synonymous with royalty, luxury, desire. Before he even met you, that was the name he’d built for himself—or, rather, the name that was thrusted into his arms.
A sex symbol.
When you won your Games, he could remember listening to the Capitol chatter. Stunning, refined, intelligent: a princess. You both already had so much in common, both from the same district, both so young when you won, but suddenly, as he watched you leave that hotel room that night in the Capitol, he realized that you had much more in common than he thought.
You were one and the same.
Those nights you spent together in the Capitol, out in the cold, you were silent. And then, even as you spoke to big Capitol fishes and gave speeches, you were still silent then, too, never speaking out about the injustices you’d been faced with.
Now, Finnick stood outside in the darkness, cold, but this time, you weren’t next to him. You weren’t next to him, and that was because Snow took you.
So he wasn’t going to stay silent anymore.
You deserved better than that.
He glanced around, almost as if he was trying to tell if his surroundings were real, if he was really doing this. 
He looked back when Cressida called his name, a careful look on her face. “Yeah,” he said, conveying he was okay without saying it, even if he really wasn’t. 
She didn’t look very convinced, but she still responded, “Okay.” She paused. “Take your time. Just remember to keep talking and don’t stop.”
He lightly nodded, looking up in front of him, seeing his breath in the air. For a moment, he was silent, but that moment didn’t last long. 
He had been silent for far too long already.
“This is Finnick Odair. Winner of the 65th Hunger Games,” he introduced himself, even though he knew that anyone watching must have recognized him right away. “And I’m coming to you from district 13, alive and well. We’ve survived an assault from the Capitol,” he recited. “But I’m not here to give you recent news.”
What he was going to tell them was much more than news about this rebellion. What he would reveal was about a war that’d started long before this rebellion ever did.
“I come with something much more valuable.”
I haven’t dealt in anything as common as money in years.
Well, then how do people pay for the pleasure of your company?
“The truth. The truth about being a victor, about being royalty.” Bitterness seeped through his tone. “Not the myths about a life of luxury. Not the lie about glory for your homeland.” He looked straight at the camera. “You can survive the arena. But the moment you leave, you’re a slave.”
We will never be free, Y/N.
He took in a breath before he spoke his next words, knowing that they held power stronger than a weapon. He may as well have been pointing the gun at his own head. But if he had to get burned to burn down the Capitol, then he would do it. He would do it a thousand times over.
And so would you.
“President Snow used to sell me. Or my body, at least. I wasn’t the only one.” Your face flashed in his mind. “If a victor is considered desirable, the President gives them as a reward or allows people to buy them. If you refuse, he kills someone you love.” Johanna.
It’s not fair. He killed her family. She said no, and he killed her family.
I know. It’s not fair, I know.
It was never fair. No riches or glory could ever be enough to compensate for that.
“To make themselves feel better, my patrons would make presents of money or jewelry. But I found a much more valuable form of payment.” The corners of his lips upturned slightly to form a small, humourless smile. “Secrets.”
The secrets he knew had the power to rip apart the Capitol’s so called “peace” at the seams. For him, for Katniss, for Johanna, for Peeta, for Annie, for you—this peace had fallen apart ages ago.
Katniss was forced to become the voice of thousands when she could barely do that for herself. Johanna turned to rage. Peeta turned to charm. Annie lost her mind. And you… what about you? 
It was about time that this peace was destroyed. It was about time that people understood exactly what victors really lost. And that Panem’s monsters weren’t hiding under the bed.
They were sitting on thrones.
“See, I know all the depravity, the deceit, and the cruelty of the Capitol’s pampered elite. But the biggest secrets are about our good President, Coriolanus Snow.” The biggest monster of them all. “Such a young man when he rose to power. Such a clever one to keep it. How, you may ask, did he do it?” He paused, looking right at the camera as if he was looking right into Snow’s eyes.
He hoped he was watching.
He hoped he was watching as they burned the Capitol to the ground.
“One word.” He lit the match. “Poison.” And then he dropped it.
“He stopped every mutiny before it even started. There are so many mysterious deaths to adversaries. Even to allies who were threats.” He could remember being at one of those dinners, watching a man fall onto his plate, his life over so quickly.
Once you were on the playing board, it didn’t matter how powerful you were. To Snow, you were all just pawns that he could knock off the board easily.
Not anymore.
“Snow would drink from the same cup to deflect suspicion. But… antidotes don’t always work, which is why he wears roses that reek of perfume. Help cover the scent of blood from sores in his mouth that will never heal.”
When Finnick learned this, he could remember the feeling he had, the satisfaction in knowing that a man who had spilled so much blood was bleeding himself. It was karmic.
How ironic was that?
“But he can’t hide the scent of who he really is,” he continued, remembering Cressida’s words. Don’t stop. “He kills without mercy. He rules with deception and fear. His weapon of choice is the only thing suited to such a man. Poison.” He scoffed. 
“The perfect weapon for a snake.”
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Moments after Finnick’s last words, they were off the air. Cressida’s hand went to her ear, a dark look passing over her face. The Capitol air defence system’s coming back online, she said, and she didn’t get to say much else before he went running inside.
Much like every other day he’d spent in 13, your face came to his mind, but this time was different. This time, they went in to save you.
What if they couldn’t?
No, they had to bring you back- they had to.
He ran and ran until he got to ops, seeing Katniss crying in Haymitch’s arms. As soon as she saw him, she latched onto him and he reciprocated her hug tightly. He had to hold on. He had to.
He wouldn’t survive the fall if he let go.
He knows, he knows they’re in the Tribute Centre, she cried, and then for the second time that day, his heart stopped. He knew. Snow knew about the rescue mission.
His ears rang, eyes going blurry. And then things got a little blurry after that, too. Eventually, he ended up back in his room by himself. He didn’t know how he got there, but he did. All he could hear was your voices in his head.
No, you are coming home-
Finni-
We are both coming come. We are both coming home, Y/N, I swear.
He was supposed to protect you. He promised. He promised you that you would both make it home. But now where were you? You weren’t with him.
You never came home.
At one point, Annie came in, trying to be of some consolation, but she ended up leaving, unable to get through to him. He couldn’t hear her over your conversations that replayed in his head on a loop.
I told you. I’m not letting you die.
A tear raced down his cheek. He knew that you were maybe still alive, that you still had a chance, but that didn’t matter. It was never supposed to get to this point. He was never supposed to let it get to this point, a point where you could be dead.
He was supposed to bring you home.
Yeah, I’ll see you at midnight.
The doors suddenly slid open and Katniss walked in, breaking him out of his spell. He wiped the tears that’d fallen, clearing his throat. “Is there any news?”
Solemnly, she shook her head. “No.” He sighed as she sat down next to him, a big exhale leaving her lips, too. Both of them had passed the point of exhaustion, but it wasn’t like they could rest. Finnick wasn’t sure that he could sleep if he tried.
With this song playing so loudly, how could he?
Katniss was dancing the same dance as him, fighting the same battles. The man she loved was out there, too. She must have been just as scared as him.
They sat in silence for a while until she broke it, her voice raspy and just above a whisper. “Finnick?”
He turned to see her looking down at the ground. “Yeah?”
“I-” she stammered. It was only when she looked up at him that he saw the look in her eyes and knew why she was so nervous.
He shook his head. “It’s fine-”
She scoffed. “No, it’s not- it’s not fine-”
“Katniss-”
She cut him off. “I’m sorry.” Her words made him swallow. He knew she was going to speak them, but for some reason, hearing them was so different, surreal. She exhaled again, maintaining eye contact. “I am sorry.”
Finnick looked away. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate her apology, but he felt uncomfortable, looking into her eyes and just seeing the pure sorrow, pity. No, Katniss hadn’t been through exactly what he had, but at that moment, looking into her eyes was like looking into a mirror.
He couldn’t handle that right now, not when he stood at the top of the tallest mountain in the world and had such a long way to fall, everything to lose. 
He nodded, accepting her apology without words. It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know, she didn’t know him back then. She hadn’t been a victor long enough to know yet. If anything, he was glad that she didn’t get to know their world, that she wasn’t sucked up by the same darkness that took you and him.
He was glad that her and Peeta got time in the sun, even if it was only for a little while.
“Y/N…” At the sound of your name, he turned back to her, seeing her brows furrow, eyes glazed over. “When I met her, she said something to me.” Realization flashed across her face as she looked up. “Was- was she-”
He cut her off, “Yeah. Yeah, she was.” When he blinked, he saw you walking out of that hotel room, the look on your face. He’d never forget the way you looked at him that night.
May the odds be ever in your favour, darling.
“There were more,” he admitted. “Any victor that the Capitol found desirable was taken. Annie only couldn’t because of her madness. Johanna-” a humourless chuckle left his lips. “Johanna refused, and her entire family paid the price.” He look back to Katniss to see that her mouth had fallen open, a look of horror on her face. “You and Peeta were spared because you were together. Hell, that’s the reason Y/N and I got together, to escape all this. And now look where we are.”
With you on the verge of dying and Finnick on the verge of losing everything.
You. You were his everything.
And you didn’t even know it.
“I never told her, Katniss.” He was breathless, like the wind had been knocked out of him. He’d realized this before, knew that he made a mistake, but now it was like he was realizing that he may never get the chance to correct it. “I- I never told her I loved her.”
I’m your girlfriend now?
Oh, come on, Y/N. You can’t be serious right now.
I am so serious right now.
You had no idea. You had no idea that you were the reason he kept living, that you were the reason he kept going, even when it hurt so badly. He’d walk through Hell if he could get to Heaven and be with you.
But what if you never knew that?
What if you died without knowing how he felt about you?
Katniss grabbed onto his hand. He looked to see tears welling in her eyes. “You will,” she whispered. “Hope, Finnick. You need to have hope.”
“Hope,” he echoed. Just like how he saw your face, he was able to see a future just as easily. It was so clear. That better world that Coin went on about, the better world that they were fighting for… it was just within their grasp. He nodded, managing to form somewhat of a smile. “Hope.”
He needed that, now more than ever. If he ever wanted to make it to that better world, to live in it with you, then he had to have hope—hope for the both of you.
Katniss didn’t say much after that; neither did he. Both of them were reflecting on their own, still trying to process all the turmoil that the day had caused. He spent his time thinking of you, imagining that better world.
In a better world, you and Finnick would’ve never been sold. You would’ve met, and he would’ve gotten the chance to fall in love with you the right way. He wouldn’t have been so scared to tell you. You would’ve given back to the community, not taken kids to their deaths.
You would’ve been so happy together.
But that wasn’t the world you lived in.
In the world you lived in, you and Finnick were sold at ages far too young. First, you sold your souls by winning The Games, and then your bodies were sold to people who had no business touching you.
In the world you lived in, you were only brought together because of tragedy. You only dated to try and save yourselves from a much greater evil, not because you loved each other.
In the world you lived in, Finnick fell in love with you. But he couldn’t tell you that, not when his biggest fear became losing you.
But in the world you lived in, he lost you, anyway.
So he had to have hope that a better world was possible- he had to. Not having that was another blow he wasn’t sure he could take.
When imagining your better world turned into reminiscing over all that’d happened to you both, he cut his thoughts off. He couldn’t let himself stop and break down now, not when he was so close to the finish line, so close to you.
So he pulled rope from his pocket, tying the same knots over and over again, a habit he’d picked up at a young age. Focusing on the knots was able to take his mind off everything, allowing white noise to play instead of this song.
He didn’t want to hear it without you.
He did this until he lost track of time. It was only when the doors slid open again that he was broken out of his trance. Katniss perked up right away. It was Haymitch behind the door, looking as enthusiastic as Finnick had ever seen him. “They’re back.”
She gasped, getting up and running right away, but it was as if Finnick was cemented to his spot. They’re back. 
You were back.
Just like that, he was shaken out of his shock, standing and quickly catching up with them.
They ran until they were in the medical area. As soon as they got there, he saw Johanna, ripping an IV out of her arm. Her hair was gone, shaven off, bruises all over her pale, pale face.
“Johanna,” Katniss muttered, but Finnick’s attention was elsewhere, eyes darting around the room, searching for you, heart racing.
And then he saw you.
His eyes went wide. “Y/N!” Without waiting another second, he ran to you. After over a month, here you were, right in front of him.
But it wasn’t so simple.
You flinched as his hands went to touch you, making him retract them right away. Your eyes didn’t look in his direction once.
Like you were scared of him.
At the thought, his heart clenched. It was only then that he noticed you were shaking, even as you were covered in blankets.
Your body was littered with cuts and bruises. You were pale, too, so clearly malnourished and sleep deprived. But it was your eyes that really got him. Your beautiful eyes no longer looked so lively. They looked empty.
You looked like a ghost.
“Y/N?” His voice cracked simultaneously with his heart. Why weren’t you looking at him? “Y/N-”
He was cut off. “Mr. Odair.” He turned to see a doctor standing on the other side of your bed, a hesitant look on her face and a look in her eyes that made a shiver go up spine. “Could I speak to you for a moment?”
He glanced back to you, seeing that you still weren’t looking at him. Your gaze was fixed on a spot on your bed. You hadn’t looked up once, even as the doctor spoke. Confused, he nodded, letting the woman pull him to the side, out of earshot from you.
But even as the doctor started speaking, he couldn’t get your eyes out of his mind.
That look in your eye was somehow worse than any of his nightmares combined.
“Mr. Odair, Ms. Y/L/N’s condition is… it’s quite complex,” she cautioned. He furrowed his brows, his worry increasing.
“What do you mean- is she okay-”
“No, I meant- physically, I’m not seeing much to be worried about. Of course, she could be better- much better, but this is what we were expecting.” She paused, glancing at you. “Mentally- I’m not even sure where to begin.”
He glanced back at you, too, to see that you were still staring at that same spot on your bed. He let the doctor’s words register in his brain. You weren’t okay.
“We’ve informed psych, but for now, you’re just gonna need to give her time.” Time.
He let out a breath, feeling his eyes getting wet as what she was saying really soaked in. “You’re telling me to leave.” Just as he got you back.
“Mr. Odair-”
“You’re telling me to leave.”
“Finnick.” She cut him off with a strong call of his name. “Your girlfriend’s mental state right now is unstable. She’s in shock; she’s not herself right now. It is going to take some time to get her out of this state, and it’s going to be hard for you to see her in it. In the meantime, the best thing you can do for her is take some time to collect your thoughts.”
She was telling him to go off and think. Did she know that’s all he’d been doing for hours, thinking and throwing himself into the worst possible scenarios, only to realize that one of them had become a reality?
But he didn’t tell her this, instead looking back at you. You were lifeless. When he looked back at the doctor, there was a pleading expression on her face. He didn’t want to leave you, but she made it sound like the best possible thing to do for you. So he did.
But the truth was, he just couldn’t bear to watch you when you were like that.
You were the love of his life. It was like his heart started beating again when he saw you there, alive, but then it dulled once he really looked at you.
You didn’t look like the girl he fell in love with, the girl that went into that arena, or the girl he said goodbye to. It only took a month, and now you looked like a completely different person, like you had seen things no man had ever seen.
In his haze, Finnick made it back to his room, but he didn’t make it to the bed, collapsing onto the floor, bringing his knees up to his chest as his mind spun.
You were alive. He thought that, when he finally saw you again, all of his worries would be erased, that everything would be okay again, that the world would go back to being in colour instead of this black and white that he’d been stuck in with Katniss.
But nothing seemed more colourful.
Nothing seemed better.
You were here. You were back, Y/N Y/L/N, the same woman he loved, the same woman he’d dreamt about for weeks. You were alive. 
But, oh, he should’ve known it couldn’t have been that easy.
Your heart was beating, your eyes were open, and you were there… but that didn’t mean you were alive.
I told you. I’m not letting you die.
Little did Finnick know, you were already dead. 
Taglist: @avoxrising @mxacegrey @littleshadow17 @lovelyteenagebeard @nasyanastya @catastrxblues @zodiyack @zulpix-blog @mushroomelephant @muggies @lantsovheiress @hobiebrowns-wife @notplutos @faeriepigeons
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bonesandchalamet · 4 months
Text
in this world, it’s just us — Finnick odair
masterlist | pairing: Finnick odair x reader
summary: in a world where hunger games don’t exist anymore it’s just you and Finnick
warnings: fluff
a/n: finally writing for finnick 🤭
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you can hear his breath escape his lips, it’s faint, but it’s all that matters. he’s alive in your arms and in your bedroom.
nights were never the same, consisting of some form of him muttering incoherent words, legs thrashing, and thick sweat glistening against the sheets. the hunger games haunt him, even in a world where he’s safe.
there’s no president snow, there’s no more kids being hunted by others. the odds were in everyone’s favor, and people could sleep well again. except those in their respected districts victors villages.
the soft grunt that escapes his lips indicates he’s awake now. he rolls carefully onto his side, almost like he doesn’t want wake you, but you’ve been awake for some time. reflecting on what the nights could’ve been if finnick never was picked at such a young age.
“you’re doing it again.” he mutters, you feel him shift closer to you, his warm clammy skin pressed against yours, “you’re thinking about the if’s.”
he tsk’s you, and yanks the covers off your bodies to reveal the cool air of the house. it feels nice, after tossing and turning in the heat trapped sheets, you allow yourself to stretch out against the mattress and watch finnick rise for the day.
no day was ever the same, but finnick needed a new task everyday, or else he’d go insane. he needed to occupy himself from the loss and maybe even the ache. you never knew, he was a closed book about his experiences.
you watch him gather around to fish, a typical morning routine despite the overflowing amount of food in your house. you never objected or asked him not to go, it was the one thing finnick enjoyed and he could now do so freely. who were you to stop him?
“can I join you?” the words slip your mouth without a second guess, and he’s stopping in his tracks. you’ve never taken up much of an interest in fishing, not since you didn’t have to do so anymore, but you loathed sitting around waiting for him to return. plus, it gave you something to do as well.
“you better hurry.”
scurrying out of bed, you find yourself rushing with the sunrise and finnicks personal clock, but by the time you’re down by the water, no one else is even there and the sun is just starting to rise.
“what’s the plan?” you ask, turning to face him he’s got a trident in his hand, his typical choice of weapon that somehow made it back to district four along with him.
“we hunt, we go home, and then we eat.” he says offering a small smile before moving carefully and slowly into the water. he moves with such precision, careful not to alarm the fish. any movement and they’ll scatter along. you watch him hunt for awhile until it’s your turn, you don’t come up as lucky as he does, but he still applauds the three fish you killed.
“now we eat and save some for dinner.” he smiles, content with the couple hours of work done. without telling, it’s most likely noon and your stomach was reminding you of the lack of food in your stomach.
the hike home doesn’t take long and Finnick is cooking while you shower. the warm water trickles down your back, soothing away the morning worries. you take longer than you normally do, just to enjoy the silence your mind finally gives you before turning off the water.
emerging from the shower, he’s leaning in the doorway. a cocky smile against his lips that if it weren’t for his beauty, you’d attempt anyway to erase it.
“you think about me in there?”
“never in a million years would I think about you in my shower.” you pick up a soft towel, running the fabric all across your body and through the ends of your hair. out the corner of your eye, you can still see that smile. the smile that every girl falls for when finnick would enter a room. he’s easy to like, bright eyes, beautiful smile, golden blond hair, and an ego so big sometimes it’s adorable, other times? not so much.
“you’re awful at lying. it’s actually one of your worst traits.”
“and you’ve got an awfully big ego, it’s one of your worst traits.” you fire back with a smile on your face leaving him to roll his eyes and tell you lunch was waiting for you.
In this world, it's just us
You know it's not the same as it was
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ervotica · 5 months
Note
"I'm here, I've got you-" with mentor!finnick right after reader wins the games?! ilysm 🥺🥺
pairing: mentor!finnick odair x victor!reader.
warnings: finnick greets you after you win the games, and consoles your anxiety. something more ensues…
hunger games masterlist
Your bruised knuckles shake where you wring them in your lap; the tribute quarters are so empty, hollow and bereft of any signs of life other than yourself. You've scrubbed your skin raw in the shower, still flushed and tingling from the coarse brush you used to rid yourself of the dried blood and dirt.
You want Finnick.
You know mentors are always the first to greet victors after the games, and you need him more than anyone else right now.
The door creaks your head snaps up where you're laying. He’s at your side in an instant, concern carved into his features as he reaches out for you.
You tremble at his touch; palm against your cheek, arm hooked around your waist as he begins drawing you up and into him.
"How are you doing?" he asks, voice low and soft and caring.
The tears well almost unconsciously, catching on your waterline and spilling down your hot cheeks.
"Not so good," you admit despite yourself.
"I know, honey. I know," he murmurs, tugging you toward him as gently as he can manage. You're in his lap before you can register what's happening, and you tuck yourself up small, head under his chin, shoulders under his armpits.
"I'm sorry," you cry, "I'm so sorry."
"Shh, you have nothing to be sorry for. You did everything you were supposed to." He kisses the top of your head, hair still damp from the shower.
"Okay." You nod vehemently, almost like you're trying to convince yourself that he's right, that you're not a monster after what you had to do in the games. "Will you hold my hand?"
Finnick smiles and it pushes his dimples out- they're crescent moon shaped. You resist the urge to reach out and touch them.
"Of course I will."
His thick fingers entwine with yours like puzzle pieces, like that's where they've always been, where they're always meant to be. You bring his knuckles to your face and hold them there, against your cheek as you rest on his broad shoulder. Your bottom lip starts to tremble.
"I'm here, I've got you," he murmurs. "I'm right here."
You tilt your head to gaze at him, uninhibited affection practically oozing from your every pore. He leans in- you’re close enough to feel his breath on your face.
Your lashes kiss at the corners as your eyes flutter closed and he takes that as an invitation. His lips slot between your own like they live there and the kiss feels like coming home. When he pulls back, you chase him.
He meanders away from your lips with his kisses: the corner of your mouth, your cheek, a lingering one on your forehead. Your hand, still laced with his own, is holding him so tightly you’re scared you’re cutting off his circulation. He can feel your anxiety.
“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”
You’re smiling this time when you say,
“Okay.”
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bruisedboys · 5 months
Text
thinking about finnick odair and casual dominance !!
him taking your jewellery off for you before you sleep because you always forget to, and even if you do remember he’ll always offer to help. (he likes how his fingers on your skin always result in goosebumps and a shiver you can’t quite hide.)
him retrieving things off high shelves when you can’t quite reach them, a hand on you lower back as he stands behind you, easily snagging whatever you wanted and handing it to you with a lopsided smile. the soft “thank you, finnick,” you give him is enough to make his heart swoop.
him making sure you’re eating and drinking properly, and then making you something to eat if you haven’t. speaking of, he always wants to do all the chores while you “sit there and look pretty for me, sweetheart.” and if you try to help he’ll just manhandle you back to your seat, hands firm on your shoulders. “do you ever listen?” he’ll ask you, a brow quirked, something like affectionate amusement in his smile.
he’s a little bossy but only because he cares! and you don’t mind it very much (or at all, really) you kinda like when he tells you what to do <3
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spideytingley · 3 months
Text
my fic recs!
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marvel
peter parker
identity crisis by @heliads
bucky barnes
time after time (on-going series) by @intrepidacious
heal me, baby by @intrepidacious
first date, last night by @intrepidacious
little lion man by @wkemeup
these ties that bind by sweetascanbee on ao3
steve rogers
no other shade of blue by @barnesafterglow
love bites (series) by starfleetstgmgr on ao3
invisible string (series) by gracehateseggnog on ao3
pietro maximoff
hole in the wall by @sebsbarnes
realign by @astxrwar soulmate au
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percy jackson and the olympians
luke castellan
a place with you by @supercutszns
fighting chance by @supercutszns
rotten to the touch by @supercutszns
bleedin’ me dry by @atlabeth
i beg you (and you don’t understand) by @emiliehornby
daylight, part 2, part 3 by @tangledinlove
percy jackson
anti-curse by @kamaluhkhan
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dc
dick grayson
the moon will sing (on-going series) by minnieears on ao3
jason todd
window pains by @sanguineterrain
reflections of you by dizarys on ao3
romantics by @yourlocalcringydaydreamer
suds and buds (yeah, sure) (series) by sbambs on ao3
baby steps (on-going series) by @lightwing-s
she hates me (series) by minnieears on ao3
damian wayne
flowers (series) by stargazer_lily_1996 on ao3. soulmate au
tim drake
late night park walks by @lightwing-s
sleepless nights by starkk on ao3. soulmate au
who we are (on-going series) by minnieears on ao3
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the hunger games
finnick odair
our song and dance (on-going series) by @mrs-kmikaelson
one for the road by @libertyybellls
lover/fighter (on-going series) by aurabella on ao3 @bluemidnightmelody
cato
supernova (on-going series) by glossyybabie on ao3
it might kill me (on-going series) by frick6101719 on ao3
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grishaverse
kaz brekker
bejeweled by @reve-writes
dense by @reve-writes
nikolai lantsov
come on back to me by @atlabeth
bad luck by @atlabeth
nine long years (on-going series) by @ellewritesalright
enchanted by @in-my-feels-probably
a familiar melody by thehistoriangirl on ao3
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bridgerton
benedict bridgerton
drunk sketches by @delehosies
a lady’s guide to surviving the ton by @atlabeth
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ACOTAR
azriel
the green emotion by @utterlyazriel
love will unravel me (so please keep your hands held tight) by @utterlyazriel
daughter of autumn by @writingcroissant
nightlight (on-going series) by @azsazz
cassian
flames and embers by @hellodarling1357
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star wars
anakin skywalker
shifting gears by awritesthings1 on ao3
the handmaiden (on-going series) by rufflesandbows on ao3
my very soul (on-going series) by skywalkerog on ao3 @anakinskywalkerog
obi-wan kenobi
fleeting moments (series) by fitzfiles on ao3
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