#odair

[phoward89]

Based on this ask

Angst factor for this is thru the roof! And guess what? It's a series! I'm thinking this is going to have at least 3 parts. Masterlist

Jealous!Coryo x Reader, Odair!Ancestor x Reader.

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. That man is a walking blood red flag waving heavily in the wind! engagement (not reader), eventual smut, infidelity, love triangle, manipulation, stalking?, gaslighting, fluff, Head Gamemaker! Coryo, District 4 Cruise Ship Heir!Odair OC.

Chapter 1:

“I'm going home, find some other dumb whore to fuck.” You spat, flipping the blankets off your body and making to get out of the platinum blonde’s bed.

“Darling, don't be rash. Come back to bed.” Coriolanus told you, reaching his long arm out and wrapping his large hand around your wrist before you could truly move away from the bed.

“Come back to bed after you just told me that you're going to marry Livia Cardew?!” You screamed at him, feeling like you wanted to yank his pretty platinum blond curls right out of his head. “Are you nuts, Coriolanus?”

The man, whose beauty rivaled that of the Roman and Greek gods, narrowed his baby blues at you. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he told you, “Stop overreacting, darling. It's an arranged marriage that doesn't mean anything.”

You arched a brow and tilted your head at him. “Oh, so that's supposed to make me feel better? Make everything okay?” You sarcastically asked, yanking your arm out of his grasp and flying out of his bed.

His king sized bed with the luxurious crimson satin sheets that you'll never inhabit again.

“Y/N-” Coriolanus began, only for you to loudly cut him off with a shriek of, “Don't, Coriolanus. Don't say a fucking word to me.” Shaking your head, you ironically scoffed, “I should've seen this coming. After all these years of sneaking around with you, I should've known that you'd pick some rich bitch to marry and have a family with.” Gathering your clothes, that were scattered all over the room, you heartbrokenly spat, “Not your poor neighbor girl that's only good for a good fuck whenever you're bored or need to get some pent up aggression out.”

“You're not-” Coriolanus began, icy blue eyes softening with an unchecked emotion (perhaps guilt?), as he watched you toss your things on the white rose upholstered bench at the foot of his bed.

“I love you, Coriolanus.” You softly sighed, barely loud enough for him to hear, while tossing your ruined lace panties at him. What use were the lacey things all torn to shreds?

Not much.

You grabbed your matching lace bra, quickly putting it on, while muttering, "I foolishly fell in love with you and you don't give a shit about me.” You’re on the verge of tears as you grab your dress. While pulling on your dress, you sadly sighed, “Never did and never will, but I guess I was hoping that maybe you would, but I was such a dumbass.”

Your words hit Coriolanus hard, like a 2x4 in the head hard. He never knew that you felt like this. Crawling over to the end of the bed, causing his pure white silk duvet to pool and crinkle around him, he reached out and took your hand in his before you could turn away to grab your heels. He looked at your face, silently willing you to look into his icy blue eyes (but you refused to give him the satisfaction- that manipulative fuck).

But maybe if you would've looked at his eyes you would've seen that they weren't gleaming or shining. That his icy blue eyes were dead and empty, like those of a shark.

Giving up on you looking at him, the platinum blonde man (who had his political dreams within reach) began to tell you in a velvety tone, “My darling rose, you’re not a dumbass. I'm sorry you're hurt, but-'”

But before he could continue his lies (Are they lies? Who knows, but you think they are.) you cut him off with, “Don't even finish your sentence. Just shut the fuck up and let me leave with whatever little piece of dignity I have left.”, while forcefully yanking your hand out of his.

“I won't shut the fuck up because I don't want you to leave.” Coriolanus told you, scrambling out of the bed, his long legs nearly tripping him as he chased after you.

You’re grabbing your heels as he tries to reason with you. “Announcing my engagement with Livia and marrying her is so I can gain political allies and power. It has nothing to do with love, in fact I hate her.” While sliding on your black kitten heels, a pricey designer pair with red sole bottoms- a gift from him (probably for your services…), he placed one of his large calloused hands on your shoulder. Coriolanus’ baritone was softer than usual as he revealed, “I want to be with you.”

“You don't want to be with me, you just want me as your mistress so you can have your kinky fucks.” You told him, pushing his hand off of your shoulder. Marching over to his dresser and grabbing your bag (some imported designer leather tote bag- dyed a deep shade of crimson- he gave you, most likely because you let him do whatever he wants to you between the sheets), you told him the blunt truth of, “You don't love me and I'm not going to stick by your side as your mistress.” Shouldering your bag, that matched the color of the manicure you just had done (which he insisted on paying for), you declared, “I deserve somebody to love me with their whole heart, not just their dick, so I'm leaving and never coming back.”

“Please, don't leave.” You heard him say as you walked out of his room.

“Please, baby, don't leave me!” He frantically begged, his voice a loud shout, as he followed you down the hall in a run. Barefeet loudly slapping against the marble floor, sounding almost ominous.

Thank goodness his Grandma’am's hearing was starting to go bad, otherwise she'd be waking up and seeing one hell of a show. Also, thank goodness Tigress moved out years ago, otherwise she'd be a witness to a messy breakup.

A breakup that was long overdue.

You ignored him, only to power walk to the main entrance of the penthouse. You were almost to the door whenever you felt his cold, long fingers wrap around your wrist like an octopus’ tentacles.

“Please, stay the night. We can discuss this in the morning, just-just don't leave me, little dove.” You heard him beg, sounding so unlike his confident self.

A part of you wanted to give in; turn around and melt into his arms. But another part of you, the part that has grown up with Coriolanus and has seen him manipulate everyone around him knew that he was just saying whatever he has to in order to pull your puppet strings; make you stay.

You decided not to turn around, not to give into him. Instead you roughly pulled yourself free of his hold and walked out the door.

You knew that the platinum blonde wouldn't dare follow you, since running after you naked with his well hung junk swinging in the wind would be scandalous.

Unknown to you, after you walked out the door and slammed it shut in his face, Coriolanus quickly ran to his room and tossed on his diagarded pants and shirt from the evening. He ran out the door, barefoot and still buttoning up his wrinkled shirt, in hopes of catching you in the lobby.

Since you were in the only elevator the building has, he ran down the 12 flights of exquisite marble stairs to reach the lobby. Nearly slipping and busting his ass a couple of times too.

But when he reached the lobby it was too late, you were getting into the back of a cab you hailed. As Coriolanus ran to the door of the lobby, he felt his cold, dead, black, too small of a heart shatter into a million pieces as he watched you close the cab’s door with tears shining like diamonds in your eyes.

Seeing you crying in the back of the cab while leaving him, something he knew that neither of you wanted, made him determined to get you back.

If he thought that Lucy Gray betraying and leaving him hurt, well you leaving him because you felt that he couldn't reciprocate your feelings of love (because he was going to have an arranged marriage with Livia Cardew for political reasons) gutted him. Made him feel like he wanted to die.

Coriolanus wanted you; he always has. It's why you've been together, on-off, since your freshman year at the Academy.

He has to woo you back. He just has to.

Because the thought of you moving on with another man just doesn't sit right with him.

It doesn't matter that Coriolanus’ engagement with Livia Cardew will be publicly announced soon, he needs you back.

He can't have another bird of his flying away, can he?

Ending your decade long on-off situationship with the Head Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow hurt. Oh gods, it hurt so fucking bad! You felt like you’re just going thru the motions everyday after the breakup. Like you’re just surviving, not truly living, since you’re so sad.

So heartbroken.

And what hurts the most was that, even tho you knew you could never truly be with him, you still love him.

And you'll probably always love him in a way, even tho he'll never love you. Because he's your first love; they say you never forget your first love. That you'll always have a special spot on your heart carved out just for them.

So when you saw the engagement announcement for Livia Cardew and Coriolanus Snow in the social pages of the newspaper, you thought you were going to be sick.

The picture used for the announcement was professionally done; made the newly engaged couple look so lovely together. It made you sad to say, but they did make quite a match.

Two golden lions, regal with the world at their feet. Their blonde hair, her's a dirty golden shade and his a near white platinum blonde, styled impeccably set off their beauty. A beauty that was showcased in matching black outfits, hers a black tea dress with flowing sleeves and his a 3-piece suit with a red/black striped tie.

They looked every bit a couple of the old guard. A couple worthy of money, glory, and power. You're positive that Grandma'am’s proud of him.

If only you knew how she really felt. How Grandma'am Snow always thought that it'd be you and her grandson posting an engagement announcement in the social section of the newspaper. How she's so disappointed at Coriolanus for picking a heinous bitch instead of you, a girl who's soul reminds her so much of her beloved late daughter-in-law (Coriolanus' mother).

Then you couldn't help, but think that maybe Livia’s better for Coriolanus. Better than you are for him. Maybe he'd be happier with her than with you. After all, she came with the largest bank of Panem attached to her name and you came with nothing. You had no money or jewels to offer, just yourself.

And you weren't good enough for him.

Coriolanus Snow always craved power, wealth, and prestige. None of which you could offer him. None of which you gave a shit about.

All you wanted was to be loved, but he couldn't do that for you. All the cold hearted schemer could do was buy you fancy, luxurious, expensive things.

You had no idea that gifting was his love language. That he enjoyed seeing your face light up when he presented you with some gift that you'd never be able to afford on your own. He got pleasure out of spoiling you; taking care of you.

Unfortunately for him, you’re tired of being a kept woman. You don't want him to buy you a bunch of high end things. You want him and since he can't give you his love, you left. You decided to move on.

Which is why you blocked his number, because you had to move on and find somebody that you would be more than enough for. And you couldn't do that with him blowing up your phone constantly. You also started looking for a new apartment, because you couldn't keep having him dropping off roses at your doorstep all the time.

And since your mother to lived on the 8th floor of Corso apartment the Snow penthouse was in, it was a chore to avoid Coriolanus. So, to avoid any drama with him, you had to find a new apartment. You mother agreed; told you that to make a clean break you needed to leave the area. Move on from the part of town you were raised in; lived in.

You needed to fly on your own wings.

At least your job on the marketing team for Odair Luxury Cruises was safe from him. And that job did come with a sweet perk of allowing employees the opportunity of affordable housing in a select few luxury apartments near the downtown Capitol office building the company was headquartered in.

So at least your apartment hunting wouldn't be too hard.

You were right, your apartment hunt wasn't hard at all. In fact, due to your employment at Odair Luxury Cruises, you were able to secure yourself a 4th floor apartment at the Luxe, right in the bustling downtown of Capitol City, Panem.

Apartment #455 to be exact.

It was a lovely apartment with a courtyard view. It had 9 foot ceilings and white kitchen cabinetry in what could only be a top of the line kitchen. The open layout of the kitchen and living space has a modern feel to it. The lone bedroom in the apartment was very spacious and even had a walk-in closet; the apartment had a small study as well.

It was definitely an upgrade from your mother's apartment, which was nice due to the Plinths fixing it up after buying the building and moving onto the 11th floor roughly 4 years ago. (Unknown to you, Strabo Plinth did the bare minimum repairs to your mother's apartment and furnished it because Coriolanus asked him -more like nagged him- to.)

You're Luxe apartment wasn't as lavish as the Corso penthouse Coriolanus shares with his Grandma’am (the same penthouse he used to bring you to for all of those booty calls over the years) but that didn't matter. All that mattered was that you thought your new apartment was amazing.

And after moving in, you stopped receiving roses at your doorstep. Thank the gods. But since your new building had a doorman, you knew that was the reason you didn't have any more stalkery type floral arrangements waiting for you at your threshold.

And roughly a week or so after moving into your new place, you met your neighbor from across the hall.

#454

It was a typical morning, you had a travel mug of coffee in your hand and was dressed professionally in a pencil skirt and blouse (of course you're wearing those damn kitten heels he who shall not be named- as your older brother’s girlfriend calls your ex-fling of sorts- got you.) as you stepped out into the hallway of your apartment. Usually you never saw your neighbor across the hall, but this morning he rushed out the door- his shaggy bronze hair rustling around his shoulders- and his stunning sea-green eyes locked onto yours.

“Why, you must be new. I've never seen you before.” The tall and extremely handsome man smiles flirtatiously at you. Crossing the hall, to stand in front of you, he introduced himself. “Name’s Odysseus Odair.” Doing a little bow, he smiled a bit too brightly, “The pleasure’s all mine, my abalone pearl.”

Holy shit, is the heir of Odair Luxury Cruises your neighbor and flirting with you right now? No. No, it couldn't be. This has to be a dream.

Except it's not a dream and the heir to a large cruise company in District 4 that's based in the Capitol is really your flirty and handsome neighbor.

“You're Poseidon Odair’s son, heir to Odair Luxury Cruises?” Was all you could manage to get out.

“Yes, that's me, but your name would've worked better for your part of the introduction.” He laughed, the sound similar to the kree-ar call a seagull makes. Shaking his head, causing his bronze hair to skirt around his collared dress shirt (which has a few of the buttons undone to show off his tan and toned chest) he teased, “Usually that's how introductions work, pretty pearl, cause I already know who I am and want to know who you are.”

“I'm Y/N Halvir; I only know who you are because I work in the marketing department for your father's company.”

“Yes, your name sounds familiar.” Odysseus nods with a bright, closed lip smile that makes his cheeks dimple. “You need a ride to the office? I was heading there myself.”

You shook your head, quickly turning down his offer. “Oh, no, I don't want to bother you.”

“Oh, trust me, you won't be a bother.” He said with a flirty glint in his sea-green eyes. “In fact, we’ll go to the corner cafe; get some coffee, donuts, and call it our first date.”

You couldn't help, but giggle at his proposition. He couldn't be serious, could he?

But the way his sunshine like smile was aimed towards you made you realize that he was serious.

Which is why you smiled back and said, “Okay, let's have our first date before work.”

Holding his arm out, like a gentleman, Odysseus winked. “I'll even take you out tonight for seafood.” A sultry look appeared in his eyes as he told you, “I’ll make sure that the dessert's a mouthwatering, delicious one for our second date.”

Odysseus' innuendo didn't go unnoticed by you. And after everything you've been thru with Coriolanus, along with being single for roughly a month now, you decided that it was time to stop pouting over somebody that doesn't give a shit about you.

That it was time to let somebody new have a chance at loving you.

“That sounds like a plan.” You smiled, walking down the hallway arm in arm with the tall bronze man that was sculpted like a Greek god of old. “I'll make sure to wear a nice dress for the occasion.”

“Yes, please do. Even if I'm not one for dressing up, the place I'm taking you to does have a dress code.”

“A dress code similar to Avelina's?” You asked, assuming that whatever fancy seafood place Odysseus was taking you too would be similar in fashion sense to the restaurant Coriolanus took you to every year for your birthday, once you turned 19. (Would've been nice to go there more than once a year, but you figured your ex was just too embarrassed to be seen out in public with you too much since you weren't off the same pedigree as him).

“Ugh, I hate that place. It's so stuffy; reeks of old money.” Odysseus complained as the elevator came into view. Shaking his head, he explained, “Ocean Prime's not a black tie affair dress code, like Avelina's, but more of a nice cocktail dress and button up type of dress code.” Coming to a stop at the elevator bank, he pressed the call button for it and asked, “Do you own the classic little black dress? If so, it'd be perfect for dinner tonight.”

Nodding, you simply told him, “I own one.”

And you only owned one because all of the cocktail dresses you owned were commissioned by Coriolanus- for his cousin Tigris to design and make- and they were all various shades of white, red, and pink. You only had one little black dress because you had bought it yourself, with your own hard earned money, off of a clearance rack. It wasn't anything fancy and you never wore it, since Coriolanus always wanted you to match him if and when he took you somewhere.

So, tonight your little black dress will finally get worn. Worn for your second date with a man who seems warm like sunshine with sea-green eyes that twinkle dreamily.

It's been nearly a month since you left Coriolanus and he's not taking it too well. He never thought that you'd truly leave him. He always just assumed that you'd be there.

He knows now that he took you for granted. It's something that he regrets everyday, whether he admits it or not.

And what gnaws at Coriolanus is how you ignored every single attempt he made to win you back. Blocking his number and moving to a new apartment, in his opinion, was an extreme way to avoid him.

Your bitch of a mother, who smoked more than a chimney and drank more than a fish, refused to give Coriolanus your new number. She also refused to tell him your new address. He literally had to pay off somebody in the HR department of Odair Luxury Cruises to get him your new info. Which turned out to be useless since the doorman at the Luxe apartments was very strict when it came to adhering to the wishes of the residents when it came to who was and wasn't allowed to visit or leave things for them and wouldn't let him pass the door. Even when he flashed a large wad of cash at the man, he still refused to budge.

Ugh, moral people were the boil on Coriolanus' ass.

Coriolanus was tempted to just show up and corner you at work, but he ended up deciding against it. But only because he had political ambitions and didn't want a scene to be caused (one that he feels you would cause) that could be damning to his image.

He was sacrificing so much for his political dreams. Listening to Strabo Plinth and getting engaged to Livia Cardew, to gain more wealth and some political goals. Because if he couldn't become a Senator and, of course, after that the President of Panem then wouldn't his greatest sacrifice- his loss of you, be all for nothing?

One afternoon Coriolanus was neck deep in work, but he found himself staring at a framed picture on his desk. It was a picture of the two of you. One that was taken at the Yule Ball during Senior year at the University. It was his favorite picture of the two of you, which is why he has it framed on his desk.

But before he could get lost in the memory of that night, a knock sounded at his office door. Tearing his gaze off of the picture frame, he looked up to the door and simply said, “Come in.”

“Sir, your fiance's here to see you.” Coriolanus' personal secretary, a middle-aged woman who's hot pink lipstick matched her pixie cut, informed him while walking into the office.

“About what, Marge?” Asked Coriolanus while blinking his eyes- attempting to soothe the pain in them from the hot pink overload he was experiencing.

His corneas couldn't handle looking at his secretary’s hot pink paisley print dress since it made her hair stand out more. He also tried not to stare at his employee too rudely while noticing her fuchsia dyed eyebrows and matching pink mascara- that oddly framed a natural eyelid.

Averting his eyes back to his computer, (*cough* his framed picture of you *cough*) Coriolanus told Marge, “I'm busy; I don't have time to deal with her petty antics today.”

“I know that, Sir. I even told Miss Cardew that you're very busy planning the upcoming games, but she wouldn't hear it. She's demanding that I buzz her in; let her see you.”

“Well, don't.” Coriolanus told his secretary because the last thing he wanted to do was talk to his fiance, Livia Cardew.

Gods, how he hated that woman.

“What do you want me to tell her then, Sir?” Marge asked.

“That I'm in a meeting and can't see her at the moment.”

“Okay, but what kind of meeting?” The secretary asked, knowing full well that the dirty blonde Tasmanian devil of a woman out in the lobby would ream her out if she didn't have any details to give her. Saying in a meeting wouldn't suffice that shrew.

“Tell her I'm networking with somebody about the mass installation of mandatory TVs in the districts.” The cold, callous, platinum blonde man said without skipping a beat.

“I thought you successfully had that meeting yesterday?” The secretary asked in a tone that implied she knew her boss was a cunning piece of shit.

“I did, but she doesn't know that.” Coriolanus smirked.

“No, I suppose she doesn't.” Marge giggled. A giddy look took over the middle aged woman's face as she told her boss, “I saw Miss Halvir last night at Ocean’s Prime. It's a seafood restaurant.”

“What's she doing there? She can't afford it with what she makes working in the marketing department of that District 4 based cruise line.” Coriolanus scoffed. Giving his personal secretary a curious look, he asked, “And what were you doing there? I know you can't afford a place like that either.”

Marge fought hard to keep herself from rolling her fuschia framed eyes at Mr. Snow's offhand remarks about money. What both she and you couldn't afford. With a fake and forced smile, she told the imposing platinum blonde, “I was there because my daughter and her partner just celebrated their one year anniversary; the reason for Miss Halvir being there was that she was out on a date.”

“A DATE?!” Coriolanus asked in a loud roar.

A date. How dare you go out on a date. You're not supposed to be going out on dates. You're supposed to be his.

Despite being separated for nearly a month, you still belong to him. Hell, he took your virginity when you both were green kids at the Academy. As far as he's concerned, he owns your pussy.

“Yes, a date.” The bright pink-haired secretary confirmed before telling her boss, “With Odysseus Odair, the heir of Odair Luxury Cruises.”

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” Coriolanus loudly cursed, his icy blue eyes blazing with white hot anger.

You went out on a date to some high priced seafood (Since when did you eat seafood, other than those oysters rockefeller appetizers he orders for you two when he takes you to Avelina's for your birthday?) restaurant with Odair- the biggest manwhore in all of the Capitol! 

What the hell's wrong with you? You accuse him of not loving you, of just wanting you for kinky sexy, but here you are going out on a date with Odysseus Odair. The biggest fuck ‘em and leave ‘em guy in the Capitol. Hell, probably in all of Panem.

Marge was taken aback by her boss's reaction to finding out that you were on a date with Odysseus Odair the previous night. The middle-aged woman's never seen the cold and collective head gamemaker lose control before. And she didn't know how to deal with it.

All she wanted to do was spread some juicy gossip and to maybe tip him off that the Odair heir might be bringing a plus one to his upcoming engagement party; one that he's well acquainted with. Marge certainly wasn't expecting Coriolanus to start flipping his shit.

But what Marge didn't know was that Coriolanus is pea green with envy. That he wants to destroy Odysseus Odair because he's with you.

The woman that he's in love with, even if he won't allow himself to admit his feelings. Because he vowed to never ever fall in love after everything that transpired between him and Lucy Gray that summer he served as a peacekeeper in 12.

But love is something that can't be controlled. And that's something Coriolanus will learn first hand as he does everything in his power to get you back. To win you away from one Odysseus Odair, the bane of his existence.

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[lovekendri]

he knows best | finnick odair

finnick odair x fem!reader

summary: after learning everything there is to know about you, finnick is tired of acting like you never had something. he's determined to make you realize that you need each other again.

cw: 18+ only! mentions of drinking, mentions of cheating, smutty angst, p in v, sorta angry sex, unprotected sex, a bit of overstimulation, choking kink, praise & degrading kink, size kink if you squint

wc: 3.6k

type: ✧ & ✽

The night was young, and you had been attending a smaller house party with a few friends, cups in hand with all sorts of Capitol concoctions and homemade brews.

"Do you understand how hot some of the victors are?" Your friend gushed, fanning herself with her hand, drink sloshing around in a glass cup. You were worried she was going to end up spilling it all over your new sparkly black dress you had specifically wore for someone. "Like, oh my gosh!"

You scoffed, laughing as you watched her spill her drink all over herself, looking around to see if anyone else had noticed.

"Lana, do you mind taking her to the bathroom?" you asked, pushing yourself away from the counter and looking at her.

Lana nodded, grabbing her hand and walking off toward the direction of the bathroom.

You took the time to familiarize yourself with the visible victors and attending guests, taking a bit of extra time to admire one that was standing in a circle with a few other victors from District 4.

He was tall, overly handsome. His athletic body and muscular build, beautiful bronze hair. Cocky half smile and perfect teeth.

And those sea-green eyes.

The arms that had wrapped around your body, the hands you had known too well, always taking hold of your body and wrapped around your throat. The heavy weight that had covered you so many times, keeping you asleep in the darkest of nights.

Despite the loud music, your brain couldn't focus on anything that wasn't his beautiful being.

Though you had such a bad falling out with him, you hated to act like he was nothing to you. Treated you like a princess, made you feel like the only girl in the world, yet he had to fuck around with other girls because you were "unofficial".

It wasn't fair.

You watched him from afar, the other girls you had no reason to fight off, the others that made him smile the same way that you once had.

He was meant to be yours, you were meant to be his.

You watched as he wrapped his arm around another victor, his fingers curling tightly around her waist. You watched as he pulled her to his side as she grinned, looking up at his stupid pretty face, the same way you used to.

You felt your blood begin to boil, watching her face light up looking at him, watching him look at her with the adoration he always showed you, beautiful locks falling around his face.

You watched as he leaned close, placing his forehead on hers and whispering something to her as she pulled away giggling.

Scoffing to yourself, sick of watching the two lovebirds from across the room, you slammed your glass down and strutted hastily across the room toward your target.

Your hand climbed up the back of his dark blue button up, your fingers trailing around his neck as you felt the goosebumps on his skin rise.

He knew it was you.

The victor wrapped on his body had turned to look behind him, a look of disgust rising on her face as you made your way around to the front of his neck.

A small smirk grew on your face as you grabbed his tie, tugging on it gently to get him to follow you as you looked into his eyes, an innocent softness in them.

He glared into your eyes as he stood still for a moment to contemplate if he should follow you, the glint in his eyes full of recognition.

As you knew all too well, the arm around the victor dropped as he gave in to follow you to the bedroom upstairs.

You dropped his tie as you turned to walk up the stairs, the music slowly dying as you made it farther up.

"What gave you the sudden urge to talk to me again?" Finnick said from behind you, his voice containing a small edge.

You reached the top of the stairs, quickly dragging him into the bedroom as you shut the door quickly, blocking out most of the music.

"Can't stand to see you with other girls," you said, fixing your skirt as you looked at him.

He was now sitting on the end of the bed, his hands clasped together between his legs, looking at you. It was too dark in the room to see his expression, the glow of the moon casting into the room.

"Yeah?" he said, scoffing a laugh and shaking his head. "You're pathetic."

"I'm pathetic?" you shot back, scoffing back at him. "You're the one who couldn't keep your hands on one woman."

"Oh, please, don't act like we were exclusive," he laughed, pushing himself up off the bed and stepping softly toward you.

"You are pathetic," you whispered as he reached you, looking straight up as his shoulders reached your head.

The ice in your voice caused his eyebrows to raise, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek as an annoyed, cocky smile showed on his lips as he clearly restrained from saying something.

His stare was becoming cold, the glint in his eyes slowly disappearing. The atmosphere in the room was heating up quickly as he stared deeper into you, his eyes flicking back and forth between yours with deep aggravation and a hint of something you hadn't seen in a long time.

"You can act like I did everything wrong," he began, his voice a low whisper as he leaned down to murmur in your ear, his hands reaching your waist and sliding up to your shoulders, gently pushing you into the wall. "You can act, it won't affect me. I'm the best you ever had, no matter how much you deny it," his hands pushed your shoulders harder to the wall, causing you to break eye contact to close your eyes as you whimpered in pain. "You will always be mine," he paused.

"I will always be yours."

You opened your eyes once more, looking up at him towering over you, that glint in his eyes growing with something you knew so well, familiarity, lust, and love.

Your face was growing hot, watching his eyes as they began to harden, his lips parting and a heavy breath slowly releasing.

He knew the look in your eyes, he knew the expression on your face. He knew the small tremble in your shoulders.

He knew you.

"How you feeling, love?" he asked, his hand crawling up your jaw, two fingers lightly pressing your head up to show your full face in the low moonlight of the room.

He lifted his head with yours, looking down at you, his eyebrows raised in success as he watched your puppy dog eyes grow wide.

Of course he knew that asking you anything when you were under his grip would send you spiraling, he knew that you'd be begging for him to touch you in a matter of seconds with the way he knew to work you.

The hand on your jaw drifted down your body to place on your stomach.

"Butterflies, darling?" he asked, his smirk growing impossibly wider as your body twitched under his fingers, so familiar, but it had been so long since he touched you like this.

"Stop proving yourself," you pushed out, weak, your throat catching on gasps that threatened to appear as you spoke.

"Oh, baby, you used to beg me to touch you."

You hated that he was right, and you especially hated that he was making you feel so vulnerable.

"Kiss me already," you whined, grabbing his wrist that laid flat on your tummy.

His smile turned to an sinister grin as he leaned down slowly to match his lips with yours.

He knew the right ways to kiss you, and he knew the correct techniques that you absolutely loved. He had gotten so good at pleasing you the best way you could ever ask for that he knew your small wants and quirks, the way you'd chirp quietly when he'd softly drag your lip between his teeth, the way your body would tense up if he kissed you with the same hunger you showed. He knew that if he held your body close and kissed down your jaw with his hand wrapped around your neck that you would plead for him.

His lips were so soft against yours, the weight of his body pressing against yours comforting and familiar.

"God, the things I'd do to you," he whispered against your lips, sending your heart rate through the roof as he lightly stroked your tummy with the tips of his fingers.

"What's stopping you?" you forced out between kisses, his hands now carelessly roaming your body as he kissed you with increasing hunger.

"These stupid things," he smiled against your lips as he pulled your pink lace panties away from your hip and letting them slap back on to you.

"Oh, please," you said, grabbing his neck and pushing him off of your lips to speak, a disappointed frown appearing on his face at the gesture. "You've taken these off plenty of times, don't act dumb now."

He smiled, a toothy grin with unholy intent behind it, his fingers sliding slowly up your thighs beneath your dress to take hold of the lace, earning a pit of arousal pooling in your stomach.

You were so close to just grabbing his wrists and ripping them off for him, his subtle and light touches too much for you to bear with no relief, but he finally slid them off your hips, knowing just when to stop pulling for them to fall off.

The stupid little things.

His hands immediately went to your waist once more, pushing you back against the wall with ease as he kissed you again, his lips more aggressive than before.

"I want to touch you so bad," he whispered, tugging at the bottom of your lip with his teeth as he pulled away from you.

You had enough of the whiny teasing, finally grabbing for his wrists and dragging them over your still covered body, basically pleading for him to touch you.

"Slow down, darling," he smirked, his fingers working carefully toward your shoulders and pulling off the thin straps, pushing your dress down over the hills of your breasts and moving his hands to your ass to drop it all the way to the floor.

He stood there, attempting to hide the awe on his face as he took you in, your planned matching set of pink lace adding a false sense of innocence around you, the light rose illuminating your body.

He hadn't seen this in a while, and boy was it making him excited. You now saw the strain of his pants below, your body growing hot from the tension of his eyes as he scanned you.

"How come I never saw this one before?" he asked politely, a small yet deep hum ending his sentence as he stared at your nipples growing hard from the cold and the see-through lace.

"It's new," you smiled, watching the restraint on his face as he continued to take it all in.

He exhaled for a moment, staring at your body while he decided to do something, fingers sliding back to your waist and tightening around you.

The cold was beginning to hit you, beginning to shiver as he reached for your hips, lifting you up with ease and throwing you over his shoulder.

Just as he used to, it showed you where this was going to go.

It was going down a very, very good path for you.

He laid you on the bed with some force, his fists going to the hem of his shirt to pull it swiftly off his head and toss it to the side.

You stared at his toned stomach, the way his muscles moved as he breathed heavier, the deep rivets of his abs prominent in the low light.

He leaned down to kiss you, his lips meeting your jaw before your lips, his fingers slipping swiftly down into your panties.

He earned a gasp, his cold fingers reaching the warm stickiness between your legs as he stroked skillfully over your clit, forming a pool of pleasure and heat inside your stomach.

Your lips were preoccupied with his, your eyes closed at all times no matter if he leaned to nip at your jaw or neck, or tugged on your lip. Two fingers slid into you with ease, the warm welcome and slick he had caused giving him a free entry.

"So ready for me, you're such a good girl," he said against your lips, a deep exhale leaving him as rocked the two fingers inside of you, hitting a spot you hadn't known existed before him.

You giggled for a second before a moan interrupted both the light kiss and your giggle, the heat growing in your stomach once more as he continuously hit the right spot. He was overwhelmingly good, quickly building up an orgasm as he plunged his fingers in and out of your cunt.

"Wait," you pleaded, quickly losing your breath as an orgasm approached fast, your tummy full of tingles and butterflies and the incoming explosion of an orgasm as he pumped in and out of you.

"Going to finish too soon?" he asked, a sarcastic voice of pity overtaking his usual deep and mesmerizing one, continuing the push of his fingers as he watched your face contort in trying to prevent your own orgasm, you couldn't finish this quick, you couldn't get to the real fun if you did.

You nodded your head aggressively, your eyes screwed shut again as you pleaded with small whimpers and quiet yelps, your hands flying to his wrists to push his fingers out of you.

You were on the brink, your body so overwhelmed and needy for him yet so intensely wanting more.

"You're such a pretty little slut," he murmured, his voice back to normal as he forced you over the edge, his fingers slowing to a stop as you contorted, your hands grasping around his wrist and your body exploding with pleasure, breathing heavy and working yourself through with small moans and gasps.

Your legs were clamped shut, the feeling of your orgasm overwhelming and so relieving to have again.

Finnick's hands reached to your legs, placing them on your knees and giving you a questioning yet knowing look.

"What makes you think we're done, you pretty little whore?" he whispered, leaning down, forcing your legs back open against your struggle and leaning between them to kiss you, your legs squeezing around his waist. You felt the smirk on his lips against yours, his hands moving down to your panties once again as he kept your lips occupied.

Your stomach was building again already, the names he was calling you and the way he manhandled you was driving you insane.

"I didn't–" you began, sputtering, overwhelmed at the feelings before Finnick stopped kissing you and lifted his head slightly to look you in the eye, his beautiful eyes capturing you.

"Shh, darling," he said, a hand moving to your cheek and stroking his thumb down your lip, watching the whiny and needy expressions on your face as his grin grew wider. "You can take it like a good girl."

He pulled your panties off so swiftly you didn't even know if they still existed, the cold air now completely available to your wet cunt.

He took a moment to admire you bottomless in front of him before beginning to strip himself.

"Eyes on me, pretty girl," he said, waiting for you to look down at his stomach and still growing bulge. Once he knew you were watching, his hands moved to his pants.

He began with his belt, the metal clinking as he undid the clasp and dragged it out of the loops slowly, the leather smearing against his pants. Undoing his button, he pulled away the fabric, leaving a pair of black boxers.

He came over to you, looking you in the eye. After a moment of silence and shared looks of lust, you began to beg.

"Please," you whined, grabbing for his arm. "I can't wait anymore, please, Finnick."

His jaw tightened, his hands moving swiftly behind your knees, he grabbed them to force your legs apart once more before pushing into you with ease.

You hadn't forgotten how good he was, you remembered the length hitting all the right spots with no effort, but especially the familiar stretch of your walls sending electrifying feelings and heat to your stomach quickly.

Deep grumbles and moans left his mouth as he took in the moment, his cock moving in and out of you for the first time since you'd 'split'.

Your body was racking with moans, yelps, whimpers, anything that would set him off and relay how good it felt to have him inside of you again.

"You're so–" you breathed, a moan taking over your sentence as he pushed deeper inside you.

"I'm what, love?" he asked, picking up pace as he thrusted into you.

Instead of answering, whimpers pushed out of your throat, your head throwing back into the soft bed.

"Tell me, slut," he demanded, his voice low as he reached for your neck, finger squeezing around it to block most of your airway.

"Good!" you squeaked out, the burn of your throat from low oxygen and the arousal in your stomach building increasingly higher was the best thing you had ever felt.

"Good girl," he murmured, giving you a light tap on the cheek as he removed his hand from your neck,

Your body was once again close to an orgasm, the feeling of his cock against your ribbed insides enough to send anyone spiraling. The sweaty and hot atmosphere of the room was making you even more needy, and the fact you had finally gotten Finnick back made you want to rub it in everyone's faces.

"I feel you, baby," he said, his thrusts becoming slightly sloppy as he tried to hide his growing pleasure.

The feeling was becoming too overwhelming, and you wanted to finish so badly, the pain and pleasure mixing in a weird, frighteningly good concoction as your body shook with it.

"Come on, cum for me," he pushed, his thrusts staying consistent now as he worked for you, pleaded. His skillful way of speaking to you as if you could only be his, the way a hint of neediness pushed through the thick barrier of lust in his throat.

Even more powerful than the first, your orgasm sent you over the edge, electrified jerks of your body and a fulfilling heat rushed over you, butterflies and tingles exploding through your entire body.

"That's my pretty girl," he said, an evil grin growing on his face as he continued, thrusts pounding into you again and again his head throwing back as he felt your walls contract around him.

Your body began to burn, the way his thrusts still rung throughout your body and the exhaust of his movements, your body was jerking to get away from him as he held on to your hips and shoulders tightly, his hands roaming frantically where he could keep you in one spot.

Whimpers of 'please' rang through every thrust, a tear beginning to run down your cheek as you almost worked yourself to another orgasm, the burn now less pleasurable and more pain as you struggled through your second at the same time before he slowed to a stop, jagged thrusts hitting into you.

You were breathing incredibly heavy, whines racking your body as you relaxed from what he had just done, closing your legs and putting your hands over your face as you tried to slow your breathing.

Finnick collapsed beside you, his pants now zipped by the small zzzrrp you heard beforehand, pulling your shivering body into his strong arms.

"God, I've missed you," he mumbled, his arms tightening around your back as you pulled your hands away from your face, looking at him.

He was pink, his cheeks a darker red as he breathed above your head to not blow it into your face, his eyes still glistening in the moonlight, but with different emotions now.

Recognition, love, happiness.

"I've missed this," your whispered back, your head burying into his chest as he gave a weak laugh.

"Stop being all sappy and be mine again," his voice was quiet, it sounded as if he had started to cry, but you knew he hadn't. That wasn't him.

"As long as you promise to be mine," you said into his chest, your arm barely wrapping around half of his back.

He paused for a moment, and you assumed that he was thinking of ways to make you blush.

"Any day, my love, any day."

You chirped as you snuggled in, a small gesture of 'I love you', a happy hum of his following soon after he gave you a small kiss on the top of your head.

He pulled you in impossibly closer, the smell of him and his warmth holding you close as you began to doze off, finally safe in his arms again, him belonging to you, you belonging to him, and once again belonging to each other.

You were meant to be.

main masterlist | my profile | thg masterlist | request | proof-read: ✓

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick #finnick odair smut #finnick smut #finnick odair fluff #finnick fluff #thg #the hunger games #the hunger games fic #smut #fluff #finnick odair imagine #finnick imagine #odair #finnick odair x fem!reader #thg fic #fanfic #finnick odair the hunger games #finnick odair thg #finnick thg #finnick the hunger games #finnick fic #finnick odair fic #fem!reader #finnick odair x you #finnick x you #lovekendri

[coca-lastic]

Here For You | F. Odair

Summary: Finnick takes care of you when you're on your period

Tw: Menstruation, insecurities, boyfriend!Finnick, stress

A/N: I'm sorry if the representation of menstruation in this story doesn't match your personal experience, normally my fics are created from thoughts I have myself. My first language is not English, so if there is an error I would appreciate it if you could tell me <3

Second day waking up in sheets completely stained with blood. Cursing yourself for not having put darker colored sheets, gray wasn't enough, it seemed.

Normally when you're on your period all you want to do is literally do nothing. You just get up, eat whatever you have in the refrigerator for breakfast, sleep or watch a movie until lunchtime arrives, order something to eat and continue watching series and movies while eating chocolate.

Definitely everything you wanted. But not today. Finnick had invited you for a morning walk for over a week. Apparently he bought you some gifts.

Finnick is too sweet to cancel his plans. So you started to get ready, starting with a hot shower to dull the pain, or at least that's what you wanted because it turned out to be completely useless.

Getting out of the shower you start dressing with the first thing you packed. Of course, you didn't expect to finish dressing, look in the mirror and completely beg for your reflection.

What was the point of showering and getting ready if the result would still be negative?

You hated thinking like that, inside you knew that it was part of the symptoms of menstruation but...what if it wasn't?

Maybe if you looked bad, maybe those clothes didn't flatter you, or maybe the makeup was too little and didn't cover all your imperfections.

How the fuck could you see your boyfriend looking so bad?

First of all, how the fuck would he want to see you looking like that?

Normally you would keep thinking about it, over and over again until you destroy yourself. But not today. It was probably already late, there was no time to overthink. So you decided to look for other clothes.

But there wasn't. There were no clothes that fit you well, there were no clothes that could make your body look like the body you want to have, there are no clothes that can cover those details that you hate so much.

Some tears began to leak from your eyes, you tried to hold them back. It wasn't time to cry. Not today.

But it was difficult, it was difficult to try to contain your thoughts when you always felt that even the smallest thing was against you.

When you finally found some pants that might fit you and tried to put them on, you realized that they were too big for you.

"I should eat more..."

"It should look better..."

No, not now, not today.

When you resumed your search for clothes you heard the doorbell ring in your house and all you wished was that it was a girl wearing something and not your boyfriend.

But no, because today everything was against you.

You walked towards the living room, wearing pants that were too big for you and the shirt from the first outfit, looking terrible.

You opened the door a crack, allowing only your face to be seen. And there he was. How did he manage to look so good at all times? He didn't have to wear many things to look perfect, he didn't have to cover up imperfections to be satisfied, he didn't have to search for almost half an hour until he could make him look handsome.

"Hi hon- hey, what's wrong? Are you okay?" His face changed in a single second, it went from one of his perfect, bright smiles to a worried face. Great, you couldn't even keep his happiness intact from him.

"Yeah...I'm fine" you said with your voice a little raspy and broken by the tears you had shed recently. "You're early, what a miracle"

"Honey, I'm 20 minutes late," Finnick commented, his worried face analyzing how little of your body was visible.

"Oh really?" When had time passed so quickly? Maybe when you were in the middle of your emotional crisis, but you didn't remember crying for so long... or maybe you did but you didn't want to admit it. "I'm sorry Finn, I'm not ready yet. Wait for me in the living room, I'll be ready in about 10 minutes" You opened the door a little more to allow him to enter. You were quite ashamed of how you currently looked so as soon as he entered your house you wanted to run to your room to continue with the shit you were doing.

But he grabbed your hand and made you turn to him "Hey love, what's wrong?" “He said in the most caring and loving voice possible, making you feel guilty.

"It's nothing Finnick, I was just a little stressed..."

"Love, if you want to stay home that's fine, and you don't have to keep the stress to yourself. You know I'm here for you when you need a shoulder to cry on." Stay at home? After Finnick has been planning this damn ride for like 2 weeks? Of course not.

"Finnick, I'm fine, and I don't need to cry, it's not that serious, let me go get dressed..."

"Love, your eyes are red and your makeup is a little smudged, don't lie to me. You know that I care about you and if you cry it's okay, it's normal, but don't hold back, talk to me"

"Finnick, I'm fine. I- I was just a little stressed, the walk is going to help me." Of course not, the walk has only caused more stress than menstruation normally brings.

"Honey...I won't bother if you want us to stay."

"Why the hell do you keep insisting so much on staying?! Let's go on the damn ride you've been wanting so much and that's it!" You said desperately, releasing yourself from his grip and walking quickly towards your room.

The tears returned to your eyes. You sat on the floor to continue looking for the right clothes in the mountain of things you had made on the floor. Now not only were you a mess, but your room too.

You rummaged through the clothes but there was nothing. Why the fuck wasn't there anything that made you look pretty?

The pain in your belly began to get stronger when you began to cry. You knew that stress would only make the pain worse, but it wasn't easy to stop it when you knew you had to do something quickly.

You brought your two hands to your belly when you had a very strong pain and simply let the few tears you had managed to contain come out. Tears were streaming down your face, you felt your makeup ruining more than it already was. Everything around you felt like a complete disaster, a cold, stressful mess.

"Love..." Finnick knelt next to you, since when had he been here?

In the middle of the cold environment around you, his arms surrounded you, giving you a comforting warmth, a warmth so beautiful and special. He rubbed the top of your back, giving you silent support. But that didn't stop the pain in your belly.

"Finn... It hurts so much" You whimpered as you put your head on his shoulder and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"What? What hurts you love?" He separated from you a little to examine your body in search of any bruises or cuts. His worried eyes analyzed you.

You didn't let him finish examining you perfectly, you didn't like him getting away, in fact he didn't even stop hugging you, but he walked away. So you pressed him against you again. "My belly...damn, I hate seeing a woman"

“Oh honey…” he continued rubbing his hands on your back. Your statement explained a lot of things and also gave him a clue as to what he could do to calm you down.

Finnick stood up while still hugging you. At the sudden movement you wrapped your legs around his torso. You looked like a koala, hugging him so tightly.

"Hold on tight, pretty girl." He started walking, so you braced your legs a little more around him. You couldn't see where he was going, but when you heard drops of water falling on the floor, you realized he brought you to the bathroom.

But he didn't bring you to take a shower. He grabbed the towel you normally use to dry your hands and dipped it in the hot water from the shower. Then he took you to bed and tried to lay you down, but you didn't want to let go, you were comfortable and after a morning full of stress and pain you didn't want to let go of the comfort.

"Come on love, the towel will help you"

You ignored him, you didn't really want to argue. He put you in a comfortable position and he put the hot towel on your stomach, helping to soothe the pain in a very satisfying way.

"Fucking god..." You sighed with a smile at the satisfaction of the pain subsiding.

"I'll make you some tea and bring you some pills, okay?"

"Finn...no, it's not necessary. Seriously, you wanted to go for a walk with me for days"

"Love, forget that stupid walk. I wanted to spend time with you, not time with the walk" He gave your nose a brief kiss and stood up "The walk was just an extra to the main goal" You followed his steps and tried to get up, but his hand on your arms didn't let you. "Hey, hey, what do you think you're doing?

"Finnick, the room and I are a mess, look at that mountain of clothes, I need to pick them up" He opened his mouth to protest but you interrupted him. "And look at my makeup, it will cause irritation if I don't take it off right now."

"You stay in bed, I'll do it. I can take off your makeup and, if you promise me you'll take off your makeup and stop thinking about the stupid walk, then I'll clean your room." He raised his pinky finger like a little child, hoping you would reciprocate his treatment.

He watched for a few seconds, considering how lucky he had been to find him. And the bad luck he had had in finding you.

"Ok... But I owe you something" you raised your pinky and wrapped it around his, causing him to laugh happily.

"Perfect. I'll bring the makeup remover, then I'll make the tea and bring the pill, ok?"

"Perfect"

He ran away like a child who wants to pour a glass of water from his mother in less than a minute. A few seconds later he came with everything he needed to remove the mess on my face. He did it gently, with a delicacy that I don't even use when removing my makeup.

"Ready, first task finished" And as a sign that he finished it, he gave you a brief weight on your lips before running away again, this time next to the towel that was on your belly previously, it was already cold so he decided to return. to warm it up.

On his next arrival he brought you the towel, the pill, a glass of water and another kiss to mark the completion of the task.

And for the last time he left, leaving you quite relaxed, but there were still traces of stress. The room was a mess and being alone in your room the thoughts didn't stop.

Until he arrives again, he is there with a cup of tea and some gift boxes.

"For my beautiful girl, he is the owner of my heart and the only person I clean the room for," he said, handing me the boxes and placing the cup on the table next to the bed. "These are the gifts I wanted to give you, but open them when I'm done cleaning, I want to see your reaction" and there it was, the kiss that declared the gift-giving completed. The kiss was a soft, loving, warm kiss. It made you feel complete, forget about those insecurities that wouldn't let you in peace and from the stress that was kept in your head.

After the kiss Finnick started to pick up the clothes. It took about half an hour to clean up your mess, but he did it. Meanwhile you only see it while you drink your tea. He knew how to make your tea, he knew how to make you happy, how to comfort you, how to cheer you up, he was so perfect.

And you just wish you were as perfect for him as he is for you.

"What's wrong love?"

"Oh, are you done cleaning?"

"Yes, my lady, is there anything else I can please you with?" He gave an acted bow, causing you to giggle lightly.

"No Finn, thank you, you've done enough" You said kissing him, to mark the last task completed.

"I guess now I can fulfill my goal of being with you" he lay down next to you, looking directly into your eyes, seeing you with love, with admiration, with affection. "You are so Beautiful".

And those words hit right in the center of your heart. They were such easy words to say, words that he said to you often, but now they have a different impact because after long hours of thinking of yourself as a total disaster, those words were simply gold to you.

"Are you sure about that? I...Finnick, I don't have a beautiful body. Today I tried to wear these damn pants and they are too big on me and this- this shirt makes me look bad, and- and I've cried like a little girl since that you arrived" Your tears accumulated in your eyes again and you just wanted to repress them there, so that they wouldn't come out.

"My love, don't be mad at me but that's one of the dumbest things I've heard this year. You- Honey I don't even know how to explain how beautiful you are. You don't even have to follow a beauty standard, you are the standard. Even crying you look like the most beautiful person on the entire fucking planet. And probably if I could read my thoughts every time I see you, you would never say things like that."

"But Finn I-"

"No buts, you're beautiful," He began to kiss every part of you, starting with your hands, then he got on top of you without crushing you, he moved the hot towel a little and kissed your belly, then he went up a little higher and kissed near your navel, then he went up to your breasts and, although he did not kiss them so as not to change the warm atmosphere, he passed his lips over the area, creating a ghost effect, he kissed your collarbone, he kissed your neck until he left a mark, he kissed your jaw, he kissed your nose, your ears, your eyes, your forehead, your head, and finally, your lips, he kissed them delicately, and with love. "Fuck, you saying you're not beautiful and me thinking how someone can just exploit the word beauty and be more than that."

"I love you so much Finnick" You said with cries of happiness, love and warmth escaping your eyes "I love you so much"

"I love you too, my love, more than I ever thought I could love." And with that he gave you a kiss on your lips, marking the end of the real task, making you happy. "The gifts, open them."

You got up a little to sit down and grabbed the 3 boxes, one of them was quite large, the other was a medium-sized box, maybe the size of a shoe wedge, and the third was quite small.

You started with the big one, seeing a lot of goodies inside. Chocolates, gummies, cookies. Everything he knew you liked

"Oh Finn, thank you very much. I'll probably eat all the chocolates today" you said looking at him mischievously like a little girl. He just imitated your position and he smiled at you.

You opened the second box, they were books. Your complete favorite damn saga, including the ones you haven't read. You looked at him surprised, your look said more than any thank you you could say. "Finnick, I love you, you're incredible" you said with impressive seriousness, making him laugh.

"Open the third one, it's the best"

You opened the third box, the smallest. And for a few seconds you were just left processing the information, with tears threatening to come out. With happiness overflowing from your heart. And for a moment you thought it was a dream, so you turned to Finnick, waiting for him to confirm or deny your suspicions.

"Will you marry me?"

And at that very moment you realized that nothing would make you happier than marrying him.

"Yes, oh my god, of course!" and you jumped into his arms crying and thinking that you were acting like a girl again.

Until you moved away so you could kiss him and you realized that he was just as happy as you, with teary eyes and a smile so beautiful that you kept it forever in your memory.

"Fuck, I was extremely nervous, I think my heart stopped for a moment" he said laughing more, staring into your eyes, eyes as teary as his own.

And you stuck your lips to his, swearing that you were going to be as perfect for him as he is for you and you were going to do everything he had done for you.

I literally improvised the marriage proposal so I don't know if it's shit or it turned out well, but I hope you enjoyed it <3

Finnick Odair watching Snow's death be like:

#finnick odair #fanfic #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair x reader #boyfriend #x reader #hunger games #finnick x you #finnick x reader #odair #finnick imagine

[billydunneapologist]

the things i do when i have a fictional crush, the LENGTHS i go to just to have merch

#finnick odair #the hunger games #sam claflin #finnick odair x reader #odair #odairslover #sam claflin x reader #thg #catching fire #dolls #barbie #collector doll #i need to be contained

[aludraslytherin]

Still can't get over the fact that this dude here :

Is fucking Finnick

#hungergames #finnick odair #finnick #odair #hunger #games #dystopia #enola holmes #enola #holmes #sherlock holmes #sherlock #mycroft holmes #mycroft

[swagatron9]

For You

Pairings: Finnick Odair x reader

Warnings: Flashbacks of death, the hunger games.

Summary: The reader volunteers so Mags didn't have to. Along the way, they meet Finnick and feelings are exchanged.

After winning the 73rd Hunger Games for my District, District 4. I hadn't once spoken to any of the other victors here. I kept quiet. I hadn't spoken a word to anyone since I came back. If I did, it would just remind me of what I had to do to get here. My thoughts were kept piled up in my head. On occasions I found myself staring lazily at the wall, I had no more energy left in me since the games.

The 74th Hunger Games took a lot longer than I had expected it to be, and I definitely wasn't expecting to see two people from District 12 win, let alone one. I admired the girl, she volunteered for her younger sister. That takes courage to risk your life for another person, but that's what love does to you.

Before I knew it the 75th Hunger Games were being announced and we were all waiting for what they were supposed to be.

I turned on the TV and waited for the announcement from President Snow.

"This is the 75th year of the Hunger Games." Seeing his face me fill with anger as I clenched my fist tightly. I lost everything because of that man. "-Each quarter quell is distinguished by games of a special significance." For the 25th games they had people from the District choose their own Tributes and for the 50th they had double the amount of Tributes in the arena. "We celebrate the 3rd quarter quell. As a reminder that even the strongest can not overcome the power of the capitol. The 3rd quarter quell games, the male and female tributes, are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors."

The remote that was once in my hand fell to the ground with a loud thud. Tears welled in my eyes and all I wanted to do was scream out. They told me I was safe, never to be used for their entertainment again. I was lied to, we all were. The likelihood of me getting chosen was a one in three chance and luck was never on my side.

I felt as if I had been tossed around so many times and this time was the last the time. I could no longer fight back against the capitol, they were too powerful. I was broken.

~

I marched up the stairs to the stage. We were in a line from girls to boy. I had been placed at the back of the girls. I could feel my hand shaking as I took long strides. I thought about what was to happen. Annie and Mags, they all have people out their that care, they have a family. Me on the other hand, I have no one. It would only make sense.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. We celebrate the 75th anniversary and 3rd quarter quell, of the Hunger Games. First we shall choose from the females." The overly cheerful announcer walked with pride as she approached the glass bowl. Three pieces of paper were in there, one of them was mine, but in the end it will always be me.

She stood in front of the mic and took a deep breath in. "Annie Cresta!" A loud cry came from the right of me where Annie was standing. I looked over in her direction and by the look in Mags' eyes I could tell she was going to volunteer. Without any hesitation I raised my hand.

"I volunteer." The first words I had spoken in so long, and I was glad that I was able to help someone. My words came out raspy my voice breaking as I said those two words.

"Oh- I- Well, that was certainly unexpected." I stood by the podium and stared off into the distance, now is not the time for tears. My gaze locked onto an older man who was stood with a look of relief on his face. Mags' husband. He noticed my gaze and sent a small smile my way, giving me a nod. "Finnick Odair!" I looked over to the boys and Finnick strutted out of line with a look of pride on his face. He waved his hand up high and then he turned me and held it out towards me. I gazed at the hand before placing mine in his. His grip was tight as he shook it.

We were quickly ushered out and put onto a train. "So, you're not just a legacy I see." Finnick broke the silence as he sat down on the chairs.

"Sorry? I don't understand." I was speaking too much, but I couldn't help the words that were coming out.

"I mean, you aren't just some made up victor that everyone thinks you are. After all no one had seen you after the victor tour. Its like you just vanished off the face of Panem." He dipped his finger into the chocolate fountain they had and moaned as he tasted it.

"I'd rather not take pride in having to kill people to live." I knew that If I was to go outside then all I would get was people congratulating me, congratulating me for killing innocent children. The only time I ever saw people was when Snow came to visit me, and it was never for goof reasons.

"You've got to do what you've got to do." And for the capitol that is selling your body to them in exchange for them keeping the ones around you alive. I learnt that the hard way. A short 'no' was all it took for me to lose anyone I had ever showed emotional feelings towards. So the best way to deal with it was to keep everyone locked out of my life, safe from unexpected death. "Thank you, by the way. For volunteering for Annie, if you hadn't then Mags would of."

~

"I'm uncomfortable." I had finally gotten used to talking so much and I was actually glad that I was able to voice my opinion. I was ushered out by my designer who had decided to dress me in a very revealing outfit. I was placed in a bikini that showed a little too much of everything. I was thankful for the bits of seaweed they had hanging down so I could be slightly covered. My hair had been curled and left out and I was wearing a crown that had been decorated in shells and flowers.

"I think you look beautiful." The voice came from behind me. Finnick Odair was stood with his chest on display for all the Capitol women with only a short bit of cloth to cover his private parts. He had also been decorated in seaweed. I nodded my head awkwardly as I avoided eye contact with the half naked man. "Shall we meet some of the other Tributes?" He held his arm out towards me but instead of attaching my arm with his, I walked ahead.

Johanna Mason, we spoke once before I had decided to hide away. She turned around and noticed me walking her direction. "Wow, never thought I would see you again." She had her signature smirk on her face as she eyed me up and down. She looked over my shoulder and rolled her eyes. "Someone's got a stalker."

"Are you trying to run away from me?" Finnick place his hand on my shoulder before dramatically breathing heavily as if he just swam from one side of the District to the other. I nodded my head eagerly before shoving his hand away from me. This was going to be a long day.

~

I stood at the crafts section with a stick and three sharp hooks. I had tied them together to create a makeshift trident that could hopefully come in handy if I was unable to find one. "I didn't picture you as a craftsperson." I sighed loudly as I ignored the arrogant boy. "I did picture you as my future wife though." My face flushed red and I attempted to face away from him. "I could use some help with making a trident. After all, I am the best with them." He was once again ignored as I continued on my project. "Say something."

"That was really nice of you, to volunteer for that girl." I looked up to see the talk of the capitol, the girl on fire. I mumbled a quiet thanks as I examined the hook. "I had a sister, Prim. I volunteered for her so I know how you feel."

"No, you volunteered because you cared. I volunteered because no one cares. We aren't here for the same reasons." 

"That's not true, I care." Finnick Odair, always interrupting peoples conversations.

"Do you want something? Is that why you're here?" My questions were directed at Katniss as I face the opposite way from Finnick.

"I was wondering if you could teach me how to make one of those and I could give you a few lessons on hunting in return." I gave her offer a thought and decided to go with it.

"What! So you talk to her and not me. I'm your District partner."

~

My leg bounced against the floor as I nervously tapped my fingers. It was time for the assessments and I hadn't planned out what I was going to do. Finnick on the other hand was conversing with every surrounding him, his over the top confidence flowing with his words. "Are you okay?" His hand was placed on my leg causing it freeze. He leaned over so he was by my ear and I was able to feel the warmth of his breath. "Don't be nervous, you'll do great."

"Easy for you to say, you actually have a skill. All I can do is tie a bit of rope to some hooks and that's it."

"I remember you throwing a knife at one of the tributes and hitting them right in the eye. I certainly wouldn't call that luck."

The sun was more hot than usual as I stepped over the bits of broken walls. For the most part I had kept shelter underneath some fallen bits of a building that protected me from the sun. I was on the search for water but by the looks of it, there wasn't much around. There was only 5 other tributes left, District 1's male, District 3's male, District 7's Female, District 9's male and District 10's female.

I heard a step come from behind me and without any hesitation I launched my knife in that direction. I heard a gasp get cut short at the sound of the knife impacting.The sound of the canon  going off could be heard from throughout the arena. I turned around to see the girl from District 10 fall to the ground with my knife in her right eye. Blood leaked down her face and fell to the ground, leaving a puddle underneath her. I ignored the feeling of regret and rushed to grab her pack before rushing away. It was my third kill, my third time killing a poor innocent person.

"I haven't thought about that moment in so long." I let out a sigh, I hadn't broken down in tears like I had every other time.

"I apologize. I shouldn't have brought that up, but my point is that you aren't useless. You are fully capable of impressing them." Never in my life had I imagined Finnick Odair giving advice instead of mentioning how much better he was. It gave me a sense of comfort as he placed his hand over my own.

"Finnick Odair being nice? Is the world about to end." He chuckled at my response before standing up as his name is called. I hadn't thrown a knife since my Games, could I still do it?

~

As my name is called, I walk onto the stage wearing a white floral dress. I had on a beautiful flower crown that fit perfectly. There was more people than the first time and I was overwhelmed as everyone cheered loudly. "My oh my, you look fantastic in that dress." Caesar grabbed a hold of my hand before placing a delicate kiss on the back of it. "You were so brave volunteering yourself. Tell me, what was your thought process?"

"Well I was angry, to say the least. None of us are supposed to be here. We were promised to be left alone, but clearly things aren't the way it seems." I spoke the truth, and I knew I wouldn't be the only one. "Annie didn't deserve to be here and neither did Mags. No one deserves to be here because they worked their hardest to live. They killed to live and now they are being thrown back into the arena."

"I- I'm sorry you feel that way." Everyone in the crowd had been whispering to one another but I could see the other mentors with a smile on their faces. "Moving on."

The questions continued until the buzzer rang and I stood up. I walked around to where the other tributes, that had already had their interviews, were standing.  

"Now for the Capitols sweetheart, Finnick Odair!" The crowd roared with excitement and I even took note how some females passed out. Out walked Finnick with proud look on his face, his gaze turned to me and he sent a wink my way.

I had spaced out most of Finnick's interview until he started his speech. "My love, you have my heart, for all eternity. And if- If I die in that arena, my last thought will be of your voice." The buzzer rang loudly and the crowd was overjoyed after hearing Finnick's speech, most likely thinking its about them.

As he walked about the stairs he sent me a soft smile, something I rarely saw.

We all connected hands and raised them up in the air. The crowd was going crazy as they demanded the games be cancelled, but I on the other hand was too busy focusing on the feeling of my hand in Finnick's.

~

We walked back to District 4's room in silence, an awkward tension in the air. Before I was able to walk to my room a hand grabbing my arm stopped me. "Hey. About that speech. I just wanted to say that it was about you. For you, should I say." I was in shock, my eyes went wide at his words. For me? Why? "I figured that if I die in that arena then it would be best if I told you before hand. I know I only technically met you three days but with the state we are in, I really don't care. My hearts telling me your the one and my minds telling me to go for it. So I am." I didn't get a chance to reply as he leaned down and placed his lips against mine. I felt butterflies in my stomach as he placed his hands on my waist and pulled me closer to him.

My hands raised to his head and I tangled them in his hair, it was soft, silky. I broke away from kiss, my breathing heavy. "I won't let anyone hurt you. I promise you that." With that I followed him to his bedroom where we spent our last night in the Capitol cuddled together and enjoyed our last night of any sorts of freedom.

#finnick odair #finnick #odair #finnick odair x reader #imagines #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games finnick odair

[finnick4ever]

The Prince From District Four 0.00

I wake up in a tangled heap and form one coherent thought. It’s reaping day. Glancing up at the clock, I get out of bed groggily. It was two hours later than when I usually have to arrive at the docks. My mother was already downstairs, drinking coffee and eating the salty, green bread that we ate so often. “Morning Eliana.” Ma says flatly, not caring enough to look up from whatever she was doing at the table. She didn’t care about me. Not really.

“Morning mum.” I reply briskly, walking over and taking a few bites of bread before walking out the door. The salty ocean breeze hit my face, and the sun was out. I dive into the ocean, gleaming and glistening, the sound of waves calming and therapeutic in my ears.

After an hour of diving beneath the waves, I finally resurface and head back to our little house. I put on the nicest clothes I own. A pretty lavender dress that cinched at the waist and went down in pretty ruffles cascading down. At three, I am already in the section specifically roped up for thirteen year old girls. We are almost at the back, so far away from the stage we can’t see anything. The only people behind us are scared twelve year olds, shaking in the face of their first reaping. An eccentric Capitol escort, Velvareen, reads the names. “Ladies first!” She pipes in her ridiculous Capitol accent, looking joyful that she got to pick the kids being sent off to murder this year. “Emilie Odair.” From behind me, a trembling twelve year old girl walks up to the stage.

“Any volunteers?” No one but the wind moves forward. So, without thinking, I lurch forward, my voice strong, and volunteer.

#finnick odair #the hunger games #thg fanfiction #finnick #odair

[77gigabytes]

Things I might turn into fulls fics later Pt. 2 [INCOMPLETE, read: sneak peek]

Pickpocket! Reader x Finnick Odair

So this one's, suuuuuuper short 'cause I just need to get it out of my head.

I might go back and edit it when I get a better picture of it the whole scenario I want.

Also, I was meant to finish this up and the next one, like, 3 or 4 days ago, and post then...but then... I may or may not have gotten addicted to playing Sky: Children of the Light... maybe, just maybe

|| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 ||

So I'm thinking...

Somehow, you've ended up as a maid for one of the Capitol families

You've got siblings back home in District 4 and you are their sole caretaker

Your parents passed away due to some sickness maybe?

"Y/N! We're leaving." You hear from the front of the house.

You scurry from the laundry room, wiping your hands on your apron and meet them at the door

"We won't be back until tomorrow night, I trust that you'll take care of the house."

Feet together, hands on top of one another on your stomach, shoulders back, head down.

Like clockwork.

Frankly, you're sick of it and if you succeed tonight, you'll never have to do it again.

You see their feet, and you can tell just from their shoes they're wearing something outrageous again.

"Farewell," You offer, "I'll see to it that everything is in order before your arrival tomorrow."

They hum and are filing out the door, which you gently shut after them.

❖· ────── · ·

You've been to these kinds of parties before.

You've accompanied the family you work for to be at their beck and call.

but this time, you're by yourself, and you have one objective tonight:

meet Finnick Odair, hopefully, seduce him enough to take whatever valuables you can, and then leave

You know how to act - how to blend in and also how to disappear

Though this dress is making it difficult to do anything

it's a deep blue at the bottom and transitions into a beige colour at the top

It's poking in the wrong places, a little too tight at the ribs. Luckily the skirt is flowy

You fiddle with the long mesh sleeves. From the cuffs, it has leaves embroidered all the way up to your collarbones, down your cleavage and to the middle of your torso

You're regretting coming now because you don't see the bronze-haired, green-eyed adonis everyone has been buzzing about, men and women alike.

You huff and make your way to the bar. You give a wave of your hand to the bartender, "Anything will do." you say and he promptly begins to make you a drink.

You sit on the stool, legs crossed and your nose scrunched at the mismatching perfumes suffused in the air

I need to find someone who knows the president... You look around the room but close your eyes quickly and turn back to the bar with how glaringly they dress

If I get an... appointment with, with Finnick for tomorrow morning, I can take whatever valuables and sell them off before they return...

You've stolen before...Food mostly, but when you're in the capitol you've pinched some wallets here and there, some necklaces and bracelets too.

You've already got a few stashed away in your purse.

You sigh, who the hell in here can I talk to?! I can't just bring it up casually.

You totally could, these Capitol people are crazy

As you stew in your thoughts, you close your eyes and your thoughts shift to your siblings. Most of them weren't your siblings by blood, but they might as well be. Poor things, orphaned so young.

"What's a lovely lady like you doing alone, all the way here?"

Your head whips to the voice so quickly you think you might've heard a crack.

Before you, stands Finnick Odair, himself.

BINGO! JACKPOT! Yahtzee! Whatever! What freakin' luck!

But now, it's time to put on a show.

You give him a quick once over, spotting a necklace and ring on his pointer finger

You put on a small smirk and look at him through half-lidded eyes, "And what's a handsome man like yourself doing? Coming over here to a lonely lady like me." You purr and turn your gaze to the various drinks on the shelves of the bar.

He chuckles, "Well," He starts and takes the seat next to you, "I thought that the dress you have on looks a lot like the beach. It's beautiful."

Your eyes flick up to his, not expecting that reply, but you shake your head, I have other things to worry about. Get in and then get out, you remind yourself

"Have you ever been?" He runs his fingers through his curls, "To the beach, I mean."

"Perhaps," you reply without missing a beat.

"How secretive." He sends you a smug smirk.

"We all have secrets, don't we?" You turn to him, switching your crossed legs and drawing attention to them, "And from what I heard," You reach out and fiddle with the smooth fabric of the lapels on his suit, "You like to keep secrets."

You stand up from your seat and take a few steps so that your shoulders brush against his, "And I've got many to tell." you whisper near his ear

It wasn't entirely wrong. Working as a maid for a Capitol family, you've overheard your fair share of secrets.

You found that the Capitol citizens were quite loose-lipped.

But you didn't have much use for those secrets, nor did you have anyone to share them with.

Now you do... if he followed you out, that is.

❖· ────── · ·

I really don't know if I like this one as much, but it was just something that came up in my head when I was writing my Finnick x OC fanfic

I pretty much wrote my OC's entire hunger games, mate,

so, please look forward to that instead haha ≧◡≦, although I'm still in the more final stages of planning to make sure everything correlates so it'll be a loooong while.

Have an amazing day!

Seven, Signing off :3

|| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 ||

#Finnick #Odair #Finnick Odair #FO #Hunger games #hunger games fanfic #THG #the hunger games #Finnick x reader #Finnick odair x reader #Pickpocket #incomplete #sneak peek #that's a lie #i just couldn't finish it properly #no brain juice #fanfic

[stephsycamore]

I think the most radical thing the hunger games does is tell young people that the most revolutionary thing you can do is have unconditional love for humanity. Katniss throughout the entire series is guided by a deep sense of compassion for the people around her. It is what causes her to volunteer, to bury rue, to mercy kill cato, its why she tries to save peeta, why finnick telling her to remember who the real enemy is works, and even though her compassion for the larger world falters when peeta is kidnapped, it comes back when she visits hospitals and asks for mercy for other victors and ultimately, it is love and belief in a better humanity that makes her kill coin. Through it all, she maintains an unfaltering belief in the fundemental goodness of humanity, which is diametrically opposed to dr gaul's and snow's worldview. Peeta is even more unwaveringly compassionate

So the series tells young people that the most revolutionary thing you can be is compassionate. Let compassion drive your politics. Let yourself believe in the fundemental goodness of people. And i think that's deeply important in a world that touts the superiority of pure reason or logic, to allow yourself to be guided by something as emotional as compassion. Katniss everdeen tells us that your politics should be rooted in compassion in a world that thinks detatchment or cynicism is intelligence and i think thats v cool

#the hunger games #thg #hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #tbosas #alma coin #coriolanus snow #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #finnick odair #primrose everdeen

[natti-ice]

18+ mdni

Me: “fuck, I need his cock”

Him: *is literally just words on tumblr*

#natti’s 18+ #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #tom riddle x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton x reader #rafe cameron x reader #jj maybank x reader #peeta mellark x reader #finnick odair x reader #spencer reid x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #peter parker x reader #bucky barnes x reader #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #castiel x reader

[phoward89]

Masterlist

Jealous!Coryo x Reader, Odair!Ancestor x Reader.

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. That man is a walking blood red flag waving heavily in the wind! engagement (not reader), smut, infidelity, love triangle, manipulation, stalking?, gaslighting, fluff, Head Gamemaker!Coryo, District 4 Cruise Ship Heir!Odair OC. DarkCoriolanus, Jealous!Coriolanus

Chapter 2:

While Coriolanus is in his office, high up on the top floor of the Citadel, raging and having an internal meltdown about your relationship, you’re walking down a crowded downtown sidewalk, hand in hand with Odysseus. The two of you were heading to a cafe near the office for lunch.

“I'll cook you dinner tonight. How does that sound for a third date?” The bronze-haired man offered, his smile full of sunshine and dimples. Odysseus' smile was contagious: you couldn't help, but to smile widely back at him.

“Last time I had a man cook for me I was 18.” You honestly admitted as a fleeting memory of Coriolanus, all skin and bones, stirring a pot of cabbage popped into your mind.

“I know that it's rude to ask a woman her age, but I must know, how old are you?”

“I’m not offended, Odysseus.” You assured him before revealing your age. “I'm 24, by the way.”

Leaning in, as if he was going to tell you a big secret, he smiled- large and scandalously, and revealed, “I'm 28.” Bumping your shoulder lightly with his, Odysseus teasingly chuckled, “Guess it's time for me to bust out the wheelchair since I'm the Old Man of the Sea in this relationship and you're the youthful mermaid.”

You let out a laugh, a genuine laugh, at your boyfriend's words. You've only known him for a day, but so far he's proven to be nothing, but respectful and kind. He's unlike anyone you've ever met before.

Odysseus was very bubbly and it was refreshing. After being with someone so cold and calloused for so long, being with a warm soul was like a breath of fresh air.

“I don't know much about such things. Is it something common to District 4?”

Odysseus nodded, only to say. “The Old Man of the Sea is the water god, Triton.” instead of leaving it there, he decided to explain the legend of the sea god to you. “He's very wise and it's said that if you can manage to capture him and hold on as he changes into many forms that he can answer any questions that you have, about anything at all.”

“Had anyone ever caught him?” You curiously asked as the cafe came into view.

“Some claim to have caught him, no one really pays them any mind, now do they?” He chuckled.

Odysseus' smile brightly widened as he animatedly explained the lore of mermaids to you, “And a mermaid, according to folklore, is a mythological water spirit that's the most beautiful siren of a woman on the top half, while having a fish tail instead of legs for the bottom half.” Coming to a stop at the cafe, he held the door open for you while continuing his sea creature lecture with, “They can both wreak havoc by causing shipwrecks and can be benevolent by granting boons; some even forgo their own mermen and fall in love with human men.”

Guiding you to one of the bistro tables (since the cafe was on of those seat yourself and someone will be with you in a moment type places), he told you with a faraway look in his sea-green eyes. “My Pops says that my Ma was so beautiful that he's positive that she was a mermaid who struck a deal to gain human form.”

From the way his voice slightly quaked while mentioning his mother, you knew that she was most likely dead. How did you know? Because Coriolanus’ voice did the same thing if and when he ever mentioned his late mother (which was rare and far in-between).

“How old were you when she passed, if you don't mind me asking?” You tentatively asked, knowing that it might be a touchy subject, while taking your.seat at a windowside Odysseus brought you to.

“I don't mind you asking, honey.” The bronze haired man assured you, taking his seat across from you at the table. Grabbing the menus from the display rack on the edge table, near the window, and handing one over to you, he simply said, “I was about 9.” Opening his menu, he sadly explained, “There was a hurricane in 4 that completely flattened the beach side community her family's house was at. Even tho she was a strong swimmer, she drowned.” Staring a hole into his menu, he bitterly spat, “President Ravinstill refused to send help or aid, or to even evacuate that part of District 4 because Panem was in the early days of the war.”

“You and Poseidon were here, in the Capitol, while she was trapped in 4.” You concluded while scanning your own menu.

“Yes, that's how I ended up living a privileged life in Capitol City while my mother and her family’s beach house was swept off of its foundation; lost to the depths of Davy Jones' locker.”

“My father was an officer in 12 during the war. His commander helped him smuggle my mother, older brother, and me here, to the Capitol, during the Dark Days.”

“He was found swinging in the trees outside of 12 with General Snow, wasn't he?”

“Yea.” You nodded, only to change the subject by announcing what you thought looked appetizing on the menu.

Coriolanus was barely holding it together whenever he walked into his penthouse. As he went to hang up his coat and place his leather briefcase on the side table by the coat rack, he felt his Grandma'am’s eyes on him.

Her stare was scrutinizing, making him feel as if he was a little boy again- getting scolded. He hates that feeling. The feeling of not being perfect, of failing. He strives to be the best, at everything he does, so Grandma'am staring him down with thoughts of shame unnerved him.

Grandma'am didn't have to say it, he just knew that she was disappointed in him. But why? He's successful as the Head Gamemaker, he's going to announce his run for Senate, and he's engaged to be married to a young lady from a very prestigious banking family. He's well on his way to success.

On his way to becoming the President of Panem in a few years time. Something that Grandma'am has always wanted for Coriolanus. Shouldn't she be proud of him, not staring him down with shame?

“How have I disappointed you, Grandma’am?” Coriolanus asked the old woman, keeping his voice cold and even, as he shrugged out of his favorite maroon trench coat; hanging it up on the corner rack after placing his briefcase on the nearby sphere shaped side table. Made out of mahogany, of course. Only the best for the Snow family.

Which is why you feel like you're not a fixture in the penthouse anymore. You're not good enough to be a part of the Snow family; to be with Coriolanus. There's something better out there for him, but you've come to accept it and move on.

Coriolanus hasn't moved on, but he won't allow himself to admit that he's fucking up his life by listening to Strabo Plinth when it came to the affairs of his heart. Oh, yes, that's right, the platinum blonde man turned into a cold creature that destroyed his own heart; refuses to acknowledge love. All he knows now is hate, indifference, and lust.

Truthfully, he's in denial when it comes to you and his feelings. He just chalks it up to being possessive and lustful over you, but honestly it's love. A dark, twisted take on love since he's a broken man and doesn't know how to love, but it's love none the less that he feels for you.

“Your father would be ashamed of you, Coriolanus. I know that I am; so is your cousin, Tigris.” The white haired woman, dressed in all her fineries, told her grandson. “Most of all, your mother would be heartbroken knowing that her son turned his back on the love of his life.”

Grandma'am’s words cut Coriolanus deep as he walked over to the sitting area in the main room. Her words cut so deep, it felt like a long double edged sword piercing through the spot where his black, cold, dead heart is locked up in his chest.

His jaw clenched painfully as he stormed gracefully, thanks to his long legs, over to the open sitting chair across from his Grandma’am. He felt his soul bleeding in his chest as he sat down. The old Snow family matriarch’s words burned Coriolanus worse than if he bathed in gasoline and lit himself on fire with a match.

But Coriolanus Snow’s a very proud man; he won't admit that Grandma'am's words hurt him. That they rang true; made his conscious berate him. Made him feel a pang of self loathing and guilt.

No…

Coriolanus will act like he didn't do anything wrong, even tho he did.

“I didn't turn my back on the love of my life because I don't have one.” Coriolanus denied in a flat out lie.

Lie, lie, lie!

You're the love of his life and he knows it, but he's just too goddamn afraid to admit it. So fucking scared of being hurt, used, manipulated, and weakened by love. He’d rather deny his feelings for you then face them.

Coriolanus can face anything headon, except for his feelings. The man didn't do feelings. And that was such a shame, because he truly did love you.

Too bad he was too focused on his political ambitions; couldn't see how much you loved him and vice versa.

Grandma'am blanched at Coriolanus’ words. Those words hurt her deeply. She loves you, as if you were one of her own, and knew how large of a role you played in her grandson's life. And to hear Coriolanus write the love you too share so easily, as if it was nothing, made her wonder where she went wrong with him? Tigress turned out fine, so why was Coriolanus so…so cold and dead towards the girl that he's loved his entire life?

Watching Coriolanus as he reached forward to grab a piece of candy from the large 3-tier candy dish set in the middle of the glass coffee table, Grandma'am sadly wondered, “I didn't raise you to be like this, Coriolanus. How can you be so cold when it comes to Y/N, your sweetheart?”

“She was never my sweetheart, Grandma'am.” Coriolanus retorted coldly. The frostiness in his baritone even sent a chill down his own spine, but it was too late to take it back now. The glacial sharp sentence was now in the universe, floating around; sure to manifest and take hold.

The remark and the attitude that accompanied it would surely come back to bite Coriolanus in the ass; to haunt him. There's no way on earth, in heaven, or in hell those cruel and icy words won't find their way back to you. Because they will…

“I see.” Was Grandma’am’s clipped response. Those two words held so much sadness and disappointment in them. The old woman's wrinkled face turned sour as she informed her grandson, “I just hope that she didn't ruin her life sitting around; waiting for your love. She turned down quite a few wealthy suitors, even a General’s son, as I understand from Tigress- who felt that Y/N was wasting her time on you because you've changed- turned hateful and cold.”

What? You turned down opportunity after opportunity to get out of poverty; all because of your silly notion of being in love with him? Of wanting more than what he can offer you?

You willingly choose to work for scraps, having your ideas used by your boss- to be claimed by them as theirs instead- for advertisements and marketing plots, instead of being pampered on and made a socialite by a rich man. What’s wrong with you? Were you truly foolish enough to believe that love could pay the bills; could be more than enough for you? Were you foolish enough to want the insecurity of love over the security of wealth?

Coriolanus never took you for a foolish girl, but now…well he doesn't know what to think. Why would you hold out hope for him to love you, to pick you, to give you things he's incapable of if you weren't foolish. You knew as well as he did that he has to do certain things to climb to the top, to reach his political goals, and that entering a union of love with you isn't one of those things.

“Waiting around for me to love her; to propose a marriage that would only hinder my political aspirations, makes her one of the biggest fools in Panem, Grandma'am.” Heartlessly shot out of Coriolanus’ mouth before he could think twice. He didn't even recognize his voice, but it truly was his.

“I don't know what happened to you, grandson, to make you so hateful. That girl's loved you ever since the Dark Days and you seemed to love her back, but I now see that you were just using her. Using her like that little songbird of 12 used you up years ago during the 10th Hunger Games.” Grandma’am spat at Coriolanus, causing the hardened young man to just flash her a deadly look. A look that would make most people cower in fear. But, Grandma'am Snow wasn't like most people. She did raise General Crassus Snow after all and he had some of the most hateful pale blue eyes in the Capitol.

Coriolanus' face was cold as stone, his eyes flashing with fury, as he seethed, “Don't you bring up that dead district whore to me, you old bitch. I'll take any of your other ramblings, but not talk about that songbird.”

The disrespect and loathing in her grandson’s tone worried Grandma'am. She's never seen Coriolanus in such a light, but she didn't like it.

Her grandson was nothing like his father. No, Coriolanus was worse than Crassus. Despite being a strict man that believed in totalitarian rulership, Crassus Snow was capable of love. He loved his wife dearly and unconditionally. But his son, well, it seems like Coriolanus has closed himself off to love.

And that scares Grandma'am.

“I think, since you're newly engaged, that it's time for you to find your own penthouse to live in.” The Snow matriarch told her iciscle of a grandson while watching him lean forward to grab another piece of candy from the extravagant candy dish.

Popping the piece of candy into his mouth, Coriolanus simply said, “If that's what you want, then I'll move out.” Standing up, he said, “I'll go call the Plinths' realtor, see if there's any penthouses available in one of the new Luxe buildings downtown.”

No, Coriolanus wasn't going to see if there was a penthouse available in any of the new Luxe buildings, but in your specific building. Because, by living in your building, he'll be able to give you gifts without being stopped by that troublesome doorman with high morals. He'll also be able to fix things with you, get you to see his logic and agree to come back to him. Coriolanus will be able to break you and Odysseus Odair, the Capitol’s biggest manwhore, up before you become too enthralled by him. Before he loses you to him.

Despite denying his feelings for you and calling you a foolish girl for loving him, the thought of you possibly falling in love with somebody else terrifies him. It eats away at his soul, knowing that right know you're probably thinking about the date Odysseus took you on last night.

Coriolanus is jealous that you're moving on (after a damn month!) with somebody that he views unworthy of you. And he's going to put an end to things, make you return to his side.

And the perfect way to do that is living in your building. So, hopefully, Coriolanus can purchase the penthouse in your Luxe complex.

After a long day at work, you went home and got changed into something comfortable before going across the hall to Odysseus’. You felt a bit nervous knocking on his door. Yes, he did invite you over and said he'd cook dinner for a third date, but it's been a while since you've been invited to a man's apartment. In fact, the last time you went to a man's apartment was the night that you ended things with your ex.

When the door opened, revealing Odysseus in the doorway dressed in a simple tank and shorts, you felt your mouth go dry. His tan skin was glowing, bronze hair effortlessly framing his shoulders in waves. But it was the face splitting smile, brighter than the sun, that took your breath away.

How is it that he can always flash you that smile every time he's around you? Can he truly be that happy to see you? You last saw him a few hours ago for lunch, he couldn't have missed you that much- could he?

“Come on in.” Odysseus urged you, pulling you into the apartment with an excited look on dimples face. “I got shrimp and asparagus risotto on the stove.” He told you, gently closing the door as you walked into his place; taking in the decor.

The decor was nothing like how you expected a modern, upscale apartment to look like. The walls, instead of being the standard white, cream, or light grey that's standard in the building, were different shades of blue and green. Also, you noticed how a pair of hammock-like chairs made up entirely of rope and nets hung from the ceiling. Instead of a sofa, like most people had in their apartments, Odysseus had floor cushions that were shaped to resemble a couch. The coffee table was a chunk of driftwood with glass on it, while the TV was set on a table painted various shades of blue to resemble waves. And the wall decorations of various shells really set off the beachy vibe of the apartment.

“Is this how houses are decorated in District 4?” You asked, standing in the middle of the mainroom- taking everything in.

“Yea.” Odysseus nodded. “Wait until you see the kitchen, you'll love it.” He told you, only to grab your hand and drag you into the kitchen.

The kitchen, that was decorated with mounted fish all over the walls. The beautiful white cabinets had all of their doors taken off. The back walls of the cabinets were painted teal, creating a contrast with the white shelves and frame. And the once white marble countertops were painted (Yes, he painted over marble!) seafoam green. The kitchen island stools looked to be made out of a mix of driftwood and rope, which made you wonder how sturdy they were.

“Sit down, honey. The risotto’s almost done.” Your new boyfriend beamed, guiding you to sit down on one of the stools (that you were iffy about). “You're going to love this risotto; recipe’s a simple one from 4, but it's delicious.” Odysseus told yoy, going over to the stove and stirring the contents in the pan so it wouldn't burn.

“Do you eat anything other than seafood?” You asked, hoping that he did. Honestly, you didn't eat seafood religiously, so if Odysseus did then…well…guess you'll have to deal with it.

“Fish’s healthy for you, Y/N.” The heir to the largest luxury cruiseline out of District 4 told you while taking the risotto pan off of the stove and placing it onto the countertop.

Which was bad, because without a trivet to rest on the heat from the pan can ruin the counter. Does he not give a shit about ruining his counter? Hell, Coriolanus would be having a stroke if you pulled that shit- placing a hot pan on his marble counter without using a trivet.

Whoa, whoa, whoa! Wait a minute, wait a goddamn minute! Why the fuck are you thinking about Coriolanus, your ex, when you're about to have a nice home cooked meal with Odysseus, your current boyfriend? What the hell's wrong with you?

What? Are you going to be that girl that compares apples to oranges in bed too?

Odysseus’ warm hands skirt across your body as his mouth leaves feather soft kisses all over your skin, but it feels foreign to you. Honestly, you're not used to soft caresses and lightly peppered kisses. Of lips pressing against yours firmly, but faintly. You weren't used to a man swiping the tip of his tongue along your lower lip in a way that was both sensual and questioning all at the same time.

No.

You're used to hungry, sloppy butterfly kisses which turn into bruising bites all over your skin. You're used to cold, rough hands squeezing and grabbing at you. You're used to lips harshly clashing against yours in hungry desperate kisses. Kisses that seemed to be from a man starved and he shoved his tongue down your throat without warning. Desperate kisses that turned into opened mouth ones, complete with spit swallowing, tongue sucking, and bottom lip biting.

You're not used to softness. Instead, you're used to roughness. But perhaps you could get used to softness.

Or at least you tell yourself you'll get used to softness as you lay naked underneath Odysseus, splayed out on the floor cushions, as he languidly rolls his hips against yours. His movements are reminiscent of ocean waves crashing against the shore. His thrusts were slow, but powerful.

You felt like you're going to explode as Odysseus’ mellow movements slowly worked passion into you. Your pussy begged to be pounded, craved for his cock to bruise against the spongy spot inside of it. But instead of brute force, your cunt got gently caressed by Odysseus’ large cock (well, he had the length, but not the girth you're used too. Oh god, are you really comparing your boyfriend's cock to your ex’s cock? Yes, yes you are and you'll probably go to hell for it.) evertime he dragged it against your tight walls, only to push back into you again.

You bucked your hips, whining out, “Faster, Odysseus. Harder, please.”

Odysseus just smiled lazily, making his dimples protrude deeply in his cheeks. Bringing one of his hands up to stroke your cheek, he said, “I see you're not used to making love, honey. But, you'll get used to being worshiped like the goddess you are.”

His words were sweet and sent your heart fluttering a mile a minute. And the smoldering look he gave you as he snapped his hips just a little bit deeper, a little bit harder, for you and your head spinning.

And soon, before you knew it, your cunt’s clamping down around his cock and your nails (no longer crimson, but now a simple French manicure) are digging into his shoulder while you whimper, “Odysseus.” over and over as you cum.

Odysseus after feeling you cum around his cock, coating it in your stick juices, quickly pulled out of you. The feeling of emptiness crashed into you harder than any storm wave hitting a pier ever could as Odysseus knelt between your legs, quickly pumping his cock until he cum with your name on his lips. The feeling of his warm cum spurting out onto your belly made you twitch in surprise. 

You weren't used to having hot cum shoot onto your body, you were used to being filled up with it. Was there a reason why your boyfriend didn't want to cum inside of you?

But before you could ask him, he was pushing himself to stand while announcing, “I'll get you a towel so you can clean up.”

“Okay.” You simply nodded, laying on the floor cushions while spent with white pearl like seed slowly sliding down your stomach.

After a few minutes, Odysseus came back with a towel. He gave it to you, before collecting his shorts and pulling them on. As you cleaned his cum off of your stomach, he gathered your clothes- which you thought was odd.

Coriolanus never gathered your clothes for you after fucking you. No, he used to pull you into his arms; pressing you to lay into his side, while carding his fingers thru your hair. Some times, after a particularly rough and hard fucking, he'd draw a bath for the two of you or he'd hold you in bed while telling you that you did so well; that he was proud of you for not using the safeword- only to remind you that next time if you need to use the safe word (red) that you can and he won't think any less of you.

But you're not with the platinum blonde man (who doesn't give a shit about you, who's engaged to the heir of Panem's biggest bank now) anymore, you're now with a bronze haired man who’s habits you'll just have to learn. Have to get used to.

Flopping down on the seat cushions, Odysseus handed you over your clothes. “I thought you might want to get dressed so you won't be could while we watch tv.”

“You want to watch tv?” You asked, finding it strange that he brought up tv instead of cuddling.

“Yea, there's supposed to be a fishing documentary on soon and I don't wanna miss it.”

A fishing documentary…Of course, he wants to watch something about District 4. Well, you can't fault him for that. He has a tie in a way to the district and just wants to learn all he can about it, since he resides in the Capitol.

Plus, you suppose that you can cuddle with him while watching the documentary together.

Coriolanus walked behind the realtor (a middle-aged man that Strabo Plinth had on speed dial) as he opened the door to the penthouse suite of the Luxe apartment building that you reside in. “You're in luck, Mr. Snow, that nobody's applied for this unit; that I was able to fit you in for an after hours showing as well.”

“Yes, Mr. Grand, it seems that I'm very lucky that I'm the only one inquiring about this penthouse.” Coriolanus told the realtor, a calculating line of a smile on his face, as he took in the vast space of the main room. 

It was twice as big as the Corso penthouse; surely you'd be impressed by it. This was your building, even if you did live on a lower floor (where the working-poor of the Capitol were), so Coriolanus knew that you’d like his new penthouse once he convinced you to see it. And, despite just starting the tour with the realtor, it was his place.

The platinum blonde master manipulator was going to move in as soon as possible, because it was the only way to get you back. He had to get you away from that peacock Odair before you did something stupid, like let him seduce you and get knocked up. You're not allowed to get knocked up by anyone, other than Coriolanus that is.

Yes, Coriolanus feels that he's the only one that can give you children. Nobody else better put a baby in you, unless they have a death wish.

But unknown to Coriolanus, Odysseus isn't ready for children yet (He may or may not have a few baby mamas and paternity test disputes floating around that his rich daddy Poseidon’s taking care of) which is why he practiced the pull out method with you while ‘making love’ on his floor cushions.

If only Coriolanus knew…well…he'd be having a coronary.

Not about the pullout method (no, that's something he'd be thankful for cause he's the only one allowed to cum inside of you), but about you making love to Odysseus on the floor. That fact right there would make Coriolanus made enough to kill. He's already jealous that you went to dinner with Odair, but if he ever found out that you fucked him…oh boy…it'd be like a throat punch to his ego.

It'd also be a dagger through his cold, dead, black, too small heart that secretly holds love for you. 

But what Coriolanus doesn’t know won't hurt him. Besides, he's engaged to Livia Cardew and should be worried about her, not you. But, no matter what, he'll always worry about you because you're the one he wants in his life- despite driving you away by entering an arranged match for money, power, and glory.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @twinkletwinklenotastar @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @shellybellysstuff @zombicupcake3

#dark!coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow #jealous!coriolanus snow x reader #jealous!coryo #jealous!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #thg #coriolanus snow x reader #coryo snow #tbosas fanfiction #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus fanfiction #tbosas fic #thg fanfiction #odair #coryo snow x reader #coryo x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x female!reader #tbosas x reader #thg x reader

[vivicendium]

i think something that elevates the hunger games franchise is not just the quality of writing but the integrity of it. tbosas isn’t just a cash-grab by suzanne collins in the age of sequels and reboots (though i won’t pretend that didn’t play a part), it’s a character study of the main antagonist with a different structure than the main trilogy. and importantly, it doesn’t just re-hash the same old themes and beats the main trilogy had, it expands on not just the world of the hunger games but the themes as well, it actually has something new to say about the trilogy’s themes about class, capitalism, power, and control, in a way that couldn’t be explored with the main story because the protagonist of that story simply did not have access to the world that’s being explored in tbosas.

i understand the people who call for books/movies to be made about haymitch, finnick, johanna, different years of the games — we love those characters and want to see more of them! i’d kill for a novella on finnick’s days mentoring tributes, or katniss’s parents falling in love. but at the end of the day we probably wouldn’t be very satisfied with those stories being fleshed out if they had absolutely nothing new to say about the world, they’d be enjoyable, but not as interesting and engaging as tbosas has been.

#the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #thg #tbosas #lucy gray baird #coriolanus snow #finnick odair #johanna mason #haymitch abernathy #thg series #thg meta #hunger games prequel #been thinking about this since i read tbosas tbh #rachel zegler #tom blyth #josh andres rivera #movie industry

[coca-lastic]

Unhappy Christmas! | F. odair

Warning: ANGST, mentions of forced prostitution, mean!reader? (Idk lol)

A/N: My first language is not English and blah blah blah

_____

"Merry christmas!" You shouted excitedly at Mags.

You had won the 67th hunger games and, after going a little crazy, you started to overcome it. Obviously it is impossible to completely overcome it but, unlike before, now you know how to be happy. The other Vemcedores of District 4 had helped you find your way out of the fog that embraced you and sent you back again and again.

You could easily say who was the person who helped you the most, the one who gave you a hand when the darkness was consuming you and he got you out of there. The one who said words so your brain wouldn't shut down completely. The one who hugged you so you wouldn't fall even though your legs didn't respond to your call.

He's always been the one to help you, ever since his family helped yours not die in a fire when you were 6 years old. Since then he has always been there for you.

And you would like to do the same.

But lately that seemed like an impossible task and you didn't even know why, you didn't know what was wrong, you didn't know what was changing him. That's why you decided to invite him to the Christmas gathering with your family and Mags (Who, since your games, is also part of the family).

"Do you know if the bakery will be able to sell the cake?" You asked the old woman.

"They said they would have it ready by the afternoon my girl, stop worrying"

"No no no, this has to go well Mags, we've been enjoying a meeting for a long time without someone going crazy, and it's usually me, so I have to have everything under control" You said as you walked around the entire room, checking and criticizing the decorations.

Mags sighed with a smile on his face as your stress continued to grow, you had always been such a perfectionist. "If you keep this up you'll probably collapse before the meeting. Sit down, I'll bring you some hot chocolate."

"But Ma-"

"No buts" she said and walked at a slow pace towards the kitchen. You followed her, Mags was very strong but sometimes her old age worked against her.

"Maybe if Finnick would deign to help" you murmured annoyed, you were the one who had invited him, but he could have the desire to help with something, right?

"Oh...Finnick?" Mags said, looking at you with a look somewhere between amazed, compassionate and sad. That was not a good sign.

"Yeap, I invited him too, lately he's been a little... weird" You said, sitting quietly on one of the kitchen chairs and crossing your arms over your chest.

"My girl... I don't know why he didn't tell you but... Finnick- he's not here" And again, a sad and compassionate look but this time not at you. His gaze was completely fixed on the floor.

"Wha- What are you talking about Mags?" You laughed in disbelief, he accepted the invitation, he is going to come. "He told me-"

"He told you what you needed to hear, my girl. You love Christmas, he has no right to ruin what you had planned."

"He's doing it anyway. He's supposed to- He's supposed to come." You ran out of the kitchen, straight into your room.

Normally you wouldn't get like this, you had to change many plans with Finnick, it was normal. But it stopped being that way when he had been doing it for months, with every damn invitation. You open the doors of your friendship, of your kindness, and he closes them as if you were one of the many girls who are lining up to have him.

_________

Angry, stressed and more angry.

The meeting had already started. There was your family, other neighbors from Victors Village, and some friends of your parents. But he wasn't there, and that made you angry. Because you did this for him, he loved socializing but now he rejected any situation in which he could do it.

Before he took you out of the darkness and now that you are out you want to be in the illuminated area with him. But he is not there. It's like he didn't get you out of there, he just replaced places. And you are no longer able to find him, you do not see a hand to grab and pull, he is not here, not there, he is not anywhere.

Oh, and the damn cake wasn't ready yet.

"If that fucking cake doesn't arrive, I'm going to hang myself" You said annoyed in the patio of the house. You were waiting for the person to take him to your home but he didn't arrive.

"Calm down little one" your father said next to you.

Your impatience was beginning to radiate from you. Your mind only thought bad words and all of them were directed towards the bakery... and a few - or maybe many - towards Finnick.

"Look, it's here. Don't even think about tipping them!" You said towards your father. Sometimes anger makes you a bad person.

Both of you waited for the young man with a hood over his head to approach with the cake, but instead he continued straight, specifically towards Finnick's house.

"Is that Finnick? Didn't you say that he wouldn't be in District 4 today?" No, it couldn't be that you planned a damn mini party so he could fit in. The idiot pretended to leave so he wouldn't attend.

"I'm going to go say hello dad..." You were going to say a lot of things, but hello wasn't on the list of what you planned to say.

Finnick opened the door to his house and with a staggering step he entered, he was about to open the door but you screamed for him not to.

He closed it anyway.

Wow, today he was earning your fury. It's no longer a metaphor, he literally closed the door on you as if he were a stalker. And honestly you'd had enough of that. You had had enough of being ignored repeatedly in the last few months.

"Finnick come on! You lied about the Christmas party and you can't even open the fucking door to apologize?!"

Silence, he didn't answer you. You looked out the window and you didn't see him, you didn't see the friend to shout at, you only saw the darkness that he had entered a few seconds ago.

The window was open and, once again, anger made you a bad person, so despite creating several scratches on your hands and knees, you managed to enter through the window.

"You son of a b-" you screamed as you fell from the window to the floor.

"Y/N? What the fuck are you doing?" The spotlight turned, illuminating the room they were in.

"You! This is for you! Couldn't you be so kind as to open the door for me?" You stood up quickly, pointing a finger at him aggressively and approaching him.

"I- I didn't hear you knock-"

"Of course you listened! It's just that you've apparently changed so much lately that you couldn't even have a bit of fucking consideration."

"What are you talking about? Y/N what the fuck happened to your knee and why are you coming to my house like you're a fucking murderer totally bad at his job?" She raised one of her eyebrows, but her body remained relaxed on the couch, as if you weren't bothered at all.

"Do you want to know what happened to my knee? Well, I got hurt because you couldn't OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!" You moved further towards him. and probably thanks to your scream Finnick got up from the couch, confused but still relaxed. "Oh! And you know what? I threw a whole damn Christmas party because we're both supposed to love Christmas and YOU DIDN'T EVEN DEIGN TO COME! What the fuck is wrong with you Finnick?"

"Ok... you're a little upset, aren't you?" He put his hands on your shoulders and crouched down a little so he could look you in the eyes.

And normally you'd punch him but he's your friend, so you kept eye contact with him. You looked at his eyes helplessly, with impatience, but in his eyes for some reason you only saw sadness and sadness. They were a little red, as if he had cried, when he blinked his eyelids took a little longer than normal to return to their place and his eyelashes were shiny. "Look, I'm sorry, I had to leave in an emergency, okay? I figured the party was already over so I came straight home."

"There's literally loud music and people outside the house, unless you're blind, deaf and stupid, no, the party's not over." Tears began to build up in your eyes, 'and it made you upset with yourself. You didn't want to cry in a serious discussion.

"Well, I'm an idiot then. I'm sorry, okay? I swear I'll be there at the next party" he walked away from you a little. Sitting back down in the chair.

"Damn Finnick, I don't give a shit about the upcoming holidays, what I care about is that the last few months you've changed and I haven't even been able to change with you!" You said in a broken voice, tears already sliding down your cheeks and your mouth curling to try to contain the sounds of sadness.

Finnick didn't say mad, he just looked at you. And no matter how much you've been with him for 12 years, you couldn't decipher that look. He looked like the 14-year-old boy who was thrown into the sand again. He seemed without hope, without happiness. The only shine that was in them was tears. that showed their sadness but I don't know that it trickled down their cheeks, the pain that he kept only for him, that clouded only his vision.

"Finnick...I just want to know what's going on with us. Why don't we walk around anymore, or p-play or just- just talk? Why-why don't we do that anymore?"

"I..."

"Just tell me Finnick, because I'm trying but I don't even know what I have to do."

"I-I can't, I can't tell you. He-he doesn't allow it," Finnick said with a broken voice, lowering his head to the floor. You approached him and knelt in front of him.

"Who is he Finn? What are they doing with you?" You grabbed his face and made him look into his eyes, as teary as his own.

"Snow... h-he's worse than he looks..." he sniffed and bit his trembling lip "h-he's s-so cruel, he's a m-monster."

And just by saying who is responsible for why your friend is shedding salty tears, fear came to you. You knew that this man is capable of too many things and that scares you. It scares you that he showed that prick to Finnick and you didn't. You're scared that Finnick is cracking and you don't know how the first crack got.

"I've changed...he's changed me y/n and I dislike that" he sniffed again "and if you find out how he's changed me you'll probably never- you'll just walk away"

_____

What happens when there is so much darkness that no way out has been discovered?

What happens when fear overwhelms you?

Fear is darkness, and darkness is blinding. The problem is that fear is infinite. Everyone has a different fear, some are afraid of the dark, others are afraid of spiders, others are afraid of the sea, others are afraid of blood, others are afraid of heights.

But what happens when you are afraid of fear?

That's what happens with you. You know that the boy you have loved for a long time is afraid, and that scares you. But you can't do anything because the fears are infinite, the fear remains and blinds you.

The fear of your disappointment, the fear of your disgust, the fear of showing what he has become has blinded him. And you have seen it. But you don't know where that fear comes from, you don't know who or what is producing it.

So for now you only have to observe, continue fearing, remain scared but attentive, wait until the moment when his fears are weak, the moment when hope removes the blindfold from his eyes. And at that moment have it again.

Seeing that boy again who, although fear has changed him, will continue to be the same boy who loves having a nice Christmas.

#finnick odair #hunger games #fanfic #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair x reader #finnick x you #x reader #finnick imagine #finnick odair smut #finnick odair angst #finnick odair headcanons #thg finnick #odair

[cashmeresglimmer]

The survivors of District 12 singing and dancing at Finnick and Annie's wedding hits so different after reading/watching tbosas. Can you imagine Snow's reaction to that propo? No matter how hard he tried to erase Lucy Gray and to obliterate District 12, she lived on in her music, music which is kept alive by the people of the place she once called home.

#hunger games #the hunger games #tbosbas #tbosas #lucy gray baird #katniss everdeen #district 12 #finnick odair #annie cresta #mockingjay #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #music being the voice of the oppressed #he could make lucy gray disappear #he could bomb District 12 into oblivion #but he couldn't erase her words or her songs #he couldn't kill all of 12

[odairfilm]

In the epilogue of Mockingjay, Katniss only refers to her children as 'the boy' and 'the girl'. We never learn their real names. Throughout her life, Katniss has never really been allowed privacy or the ability to make many of her own decisions. Whether this was caused by the living conditions of the Seam and having to constantly provide for Prim and their mother, or by the fact that she was forced into the scrutiny of the public eye when she was reaped/volunteered and became the face of the rebellion- The Mockingjay.

So then all of this passes, she and Peeta are living together in District 12 in the Victor's Village, and they are finally allowed to choose how they want to live. After 15 years, she decides that she's ready to have kids. They can be raised in a safe environment with no Games, no threats. So the one choice she makes at the end is to keep their names from us, the audience. The one thing that gives us our identity before anything else. The one thing that, essentially, makes us who we are (also Suzanne is so meticulous with picking names throughout the series, so it would be special to Katniss and Peeta). She decides that that's only for her and her family to know.

We, who have literally seen every inch of her life from the reaping up until now, are being told that no, we don't get to see parts of her life without her permission anymore. And it always makes me so emotional. Like yes! Take back your life! Rest. Live. Love. But on YOUR terms and no one elses.

(I posted this on my TikTok acc @narniachrons as well. It wasn't stolen, I swear!)

#katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #hunger games #thg #thg katniss #thg peeta #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #coryo snow #finnick odair #johanna mason #jennifer lawrence #josh hutcherson #sam claflin #mockingjay #catching fire #movie #film #suzanne collins #author #book adaptation #bookblr #dystopian

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

a darling and a virgin | f. odair

masterlist

summary: you are a victor from district four, having just ended your first victory tour. after being confronted by president snow, you have no choice but to lose your virginity. luckily, your previous mentor is willing to provide some guidance.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: mentions of forced prostitution, angst, gentle smut, loss of virginity, fingering, lots of consent, praise, happy but also unhappy ending??, reader takes contraceptives.

notes: i’ve recently found that i’m incapable of writing short smut one shots so… i’m sorry y’all. love describing every detail too much.

word count: 6.8k

Your hands were clasped over the balcony railing of the penthouse you were spending the night in, the vibrant artificial lights of the Capitol burning your retinas as you overlooked the city. You had finally completed your first Victory Tour and were offered one more night in the Capitol to enjoy its ‘luxury’ and ‘generosity’ before returning to District Four in the morning.

For the past two weeks, you had read fabricated speeches to each District, resurfacing both your trauma from the Games and the families of the tributes you had murdered in the arena. The toll it was taking on you was heavy, but you managed to put on a splitting grin for every interview, speech, and disturbing congratulation. But not for your previous mentor, Finnick Odair.

Finnick had been there for you through the whole nightmare, even during the week before your Games. His support was unwavering which was one of the many reasons you had managed to survive from the moment you were Reaped to the end of the Tour. It was hard to tell when his mentorship had turned into something more complicated, but it had. It had become more about feelings than simply survival. Not a relationship per se, but not just a friendship either. You teetered on the line between the two, never crossing it and never discussing the fact that you were both aware of it either.

For six whole months.

When the final destination of the Tour came—the grand celebration at President Snow’s mansion—Finnick had told you it was the easiest part. All you had to do was manage a happy face, mingle with obnoxious Capitol citizens, and eat an abhorrent amount of food. He would have been right if you were a different person. If President Snow hadn’t demanded your singular presence at the end of the night.

You exhaled a shaky breath, watching the white mist drift into the light-polluted sky. The President’s words bounced around your head: Desirable… Customers... Family. The conversation played on a loop in your mind. You could remember the repugnant smell of roses, the overwhelming whiteness in the room, and the way his too-pleasant face lit up as fireworks exploded outside the window.

Shivers trickled down your spine, forming goosebumps that were borderline painful. The fact that you were on the ninetieth floor and wearing flimsy pyjama shorts and a thin long-sleeve shirt wasn’t helping either. The crisp wind blew against your body, but you had no intentions of moving to seek warmth. It felt appropriate to stay in the cold when your body would soon know nothing but unwelcome heat.

So lost in your spiralling thoughts, you failed to notice as another body silently took up space beside yours, warming up the side of your arm. This heat was welcome.

“Pretty cold out here.”

A startled gasp escaped your mouth. You straightened up and turned to the owner of the voice, only to find Finnick leaning against the railing, forearms over the edge the same as you.

“Sorry.” He chuckled. “I know my presence can be a little breathtaking sometimes. Nice shorts by the way.”

He turned his head turned to you, revealing his infamous flirtatious smirk. The dimples in his cheeks were prominent and charming. His bronze hair was perfectly dishevelled as usual, as if someone had purposefully placed each strand to give him the ‘sexy bed hair’ look. He was still wearing his white button-up and black trousers; the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows and a few buttons were undone, revealing his toned chest. The outfit had been accessorised with a metallic golden corset-like belt among other decorations that made him fit in with the Capitol crowd, but he must have taken them off. Now the outfit sort of resembled one that a boy would wear to a Reaping. Simple yet formal. Still gorgeous, not that he needed reminding.

Normally, you would retort with a snarky remark or, on the off occasion, flirt back, but instead, you resumed your previous position over the railings. You weren’t immune to Finnick’s charms; you praised anyone who was. You would usually be internally swooning at the sight of him, especially with the way he looked right now and his obvious flirting. But this night was much different. Flirting and swooning were at the back of your mind. All you could think about was your interaction with the president; the way his guards manhandled and escorted you to his study. The conversation that destroyed your hopes of a peaceful future.

Desirable. One word that sent ice coursing through your veins. Or snow, to be more poetic.

“I don’t think you’ve said a word since we got back,” said Finnick, still a hint of playfulness in his tone. He watched your gaze—eyes distant though not really seeing. It was clear something was wrong, so he continued, this time more softly. “You were gone during the fireworks.”

You remained unmoving, staring straight ahead at the city. Only when he uttered your name did he finally gain your attention. As you turned your head to face him, tears began to well up in your eyes.

Finnick noticed the silent distress in your expression and straightened up his stance. He towered over you, brows knitted together whilst his sea-green eyes flickered across your face, looking as if pieces were slowly falling together in his mind.

“He spoke with you, didn’t he?” he said. “Snow.”

To answer his question for you, a tear escaped your eye, but you were quick to swipe it away with a sniffle.

Your arms wound around your torso, hugging yourself as the words began flowing. “After I won my Games, when I was being crowned, he said something to me that I didn’t really understand." Your voice was gentle, just above a mere whisper. “Months passed and I’d forgotten all about it. Until now at least. He told me…” You swallowed the ache in your throat. “He told me, ‘I have big plans for you, Miss (L/N). I think you will be a very valuable asset to the Capitol citizens.’”

Finnick’s face had melted into an unreadable expression. His entire body turned to stone; it was like he was a marble statue portraying a Greek God. All of a sudden, he was sixteen again. He was in Snow’s study, being told that if he didn’t cooperate and essentially sell himself to the Capitol, his family would pay the price. And they did.

With a sad smile, you whispered, “I know what he meant now.”

Something inside him snapped and he broke from his stupor.

“No.” He vigorously shook his head. “He can’t do that. You can’t. I’ll go to him and—fuck!” His hand ran through his hair, making it even more dishevelled. The bright lights from the city were reflecting off his eyes, revealing the shine that was starting to gloss over them. “I can fix this for you, I swear I’ll—"

“Finnick.”

“He’s a fucking—”

“Finnick.” The plea in your voice ceased his panicked movements. He just stood there, looking completely and utterly helpless. You both did. Another tear slipped down your cheek as you stared at him, your voice wavering as you asked, “Can you hold me?”

He let out a breath as if the air had been knocked from his lungs and in one fell swoop, he stepped forward and pulled you into his arms. Silent tears began to flow more heavily, saturating his white shirt which he held you tightly against. There was a hand wrapped protectively around your lower back and another stroking the hair flowing over your neck.

You were certain Finnick let a few tears slip too because you could feel the cold breeze nip at the top of your head the slightest bit more. He mumbled the words “I’m so sorry” over and over into your hair but you just shook your head. You told him it wasn’t his fault, but he wouldn’t accept it. He had told you months ago about his arrangement with Snow. You couldn’t have imagined what it was like for him then, but you would be able to now. You would know every single little detail.

His embrace tightened as you turned your head and pressed your ear to his thumping chest.

The tears had stopped, and you managed to find your voice again. “Snow threatened to kill my family. What if the customers don’t think I’m good enough and he takes it out on them? I mean, I don’t have any experience.”

You remained silent, awaiting his response. When the hand stroking your hair halted, you realised your mistake. You realised what you had just admitted to him and mentally kicked yourself. Repeatedly.

Finnick moved both hands onto your forearms, gently pushing you away from him to get a clear view of your face. The surprise in his expression was enough to make you want to jump over the balcony ledge in embarrassment.

“You’re a virgin?”

Hearing the words out loud would have sent you over the edge—literally—if Finnick’s large hands weren’t wrapped around your arms. You tried to turn away from him, but his grip was unshakeable. Your eyes began to water again, and you felt pathetic.

“Hey,” he said tenderly as he tried to regain your eye contact. “It’s not a bad thing.”

Your distraught red-rimmed eyes snapped back to him. “Not a bad thing? Of course it’s a bad thing, Finnick! I have to give my body to a stranger despite never even having my first kiss! Let alone sex!” As you said the words, the full reality of your situation began to set in. Panic turned to sadness as you realised yet again, the Capitol was taking another innocence you thought was your own to give away. You looked down, your tone becoming quieter. “I thought my first time would be special. Or at least with someone I loved.”

God, you felt so embarrassed admitting that to him. Sure, a lot of your conversations were flirty and full of sensual banter. Sex, however, was not a topic that came up very frequently. You would never want to accidentally cross a line with Finnick, especially given what Snow forced upon him. So you liked to avoid the subject as much as possible. Now, it was inescapable.

He released his grip and sighed heavily, looking out toward the view as if he were deep in thought. The vivid city lights cast an unnatural hue on his usually golden-tanned skin; even now the Capitol was changing him into something he wasn’t. His eyes shut for a quick second before he reopened them and looked back at you. The only time he had looked this serious was the morning of your Games and the night you returned. It was a little intimidating.

His jaw ticked and his gaze bore down into your own. “Sweetheart, I’m going to ask you something,” he began, “and I want you to know you do not have to say ‘yes’ if you don’t want to, okay?”

Alright, now he was really starting to scare you.

“Okay,” you said warily.

The hardness on his face remained for a moment longer, but then his expression softened and became the most vulnerable you had ever seen.

His voice was gentle. “Do you want me to take your virginity?”

*************

You were sat on the edge of Finnick’s bed, toying with the black satin sheets with a frown. Your room didn’t get satin sheets. It was probably one of the benefits of being the Capitol Darling. Not that you envied him very much. He would probably be content with sleeping on a dirt floor if it meant he got his autonomy back.

Finnick was in the bathroom doing God knows what. You weren’t sure if he was trying to make himself more presentable or hyping himself up to have sex with you. The latter worried you. The last thing you wanted was to pressure him into something he didn’t want to do. Then again, he was the one who asked.

After you had told him “Yes, please”, he had tentatively but oh-so-gently taken your hand in his and guided you inside and to his room. Neither of you had spoken along the way; you just walked in silence toward something that would either ruin or deepen your relationship. Despite being two victors, this was still a mentor making sure his tribute stayed alive.

You heard the bathroom door slide open and looked up to see Finnick standing outside the door. Shirtless, pants still on, and towel in hand. It took everything in you to not stare at his perfectly sculptured torso, his equally toned arms, or his broad and muscular shoulders. Instead, your eyes met his for a split second before you returned to the satin sheets.

Blood rushed to your head and everything felt too real. Finnick Odair was standing before you, looking like an angel and willing to fu—

“You’re allowed to look, you know,” he chuckled.

But your gaze remained on the bed.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“You won’t.’” He spread the towel on the bed, positioning it in the middle. Then he stopped his movements as he realised what you meant. “It’s not like that. I’m not being forced to do this. I want to.”

Your head snapped up and your heart leapt as those three words left his lips—I want to. For a second, you believed him, but then reasoning came to deflate your hopefulness.

“You wouldn’t want to if I weren’t in this situation.”

He let go of the towel, sitting down mere inches beside you, his eyes amused despite the solemn context. “And how do you know that?”

“Because…” you trailed off, searching your brain for an explanation only to find none. “Because.”

He smirked. “We need to work on your argumentative skills, sweetheart.”

A small smile worked its way across your lips. He returned it with a comforting smile of his own, though the sense of playfulness never left. It never really did and that was one of the things you admired most about him. Even in the darkest of situations, he was able to provide some light.

Rosy heat crept into your cheeks and you were forced to break eye contact again. Hiding how much he affected you was pointless now; if this was going to work out, you needed to be vulnerable with him. With each other. You looked down at the space between your bodies. His hand was resting on the bed beside him and soon enough, it was slowly creeping across the sheets over to your own. He gently brushed his fingers across your knuckles before sliding his hand beneath your palm and interlocking it with yours. You couldn’t help but notice how small your hand looked compared to his, feeling butterflies flutter around your stomach at the small observation.

The both of you silently watched your intertwined hands. That is until Finnick decided to speak up.

“I would,” he said ambiguously, caressing the side of your hand with his thumb. “I would still want to. Even in different circumstances.”

The blush on your face reddened even more; your cheeks were on fire at this point. Even in different circumstances. Was that his way of confessing… that he did have feelings for you? It wasn’t exactly explicit, but it was certainly implied. Oh god, you didn’t know what to think.

You didn’t bother to reply; words probably would have failed you anyway. You just gave his hand a slight squeeze in acknowledgement—well, it was more in appreciation. It was obvious how hard he was trying to make you feel comfortable, but no matter how hard he tried, you couldn’t shake the nerves that were rattling your entire being.

Sex was a pretty big milestone—to you, at least—and here you were, on the precipice with someone you trusted with your life. Did you love Finnick? You weren’t sure. What you did know was that your feelings for him were deep, and even though neither of you had ever clearly confessed to each other, you knew he felt something for you too. Which made everything all the more daunting.

“Are you nervous?” he asked softly.

You nodded.

“We still don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

You shook your head, lifting your gaze to his. “No, I—”

His eyebrows pulled inwards, awaiting your answer. His eyes were so inviting and full of understanding, if you hadn’t lost the ability to form full sentences, you would have found yourself spilling all your secrets to him. He was so patient with you. So good. You had to rethink your uncertainty about loving him.

“I…” you tried again. Your eyes flickered back and forth from his sea-green eyes to his soft, pink lips. As shameful as it felt to admit, you had imagined what it would feel like to have his lips on yours many times before. Usually right before you went to sleep. Never would you have thought the day would come when it would actually happen.

He was still caressing the side of your palm, silently reassuring you, encouraging you to communicate with him. You sighed, closing your eyes. If he wanted you to communicate, then you would.

“Finnick,” you whispered. “Kiss me.”

Your words drifted into the air, stilling everything in the room—the air, Finnick’s hand. Your heart. He just stared at you, unblinking, unmoving, like someone had hit pause on the television at the tensest moment. The tension was tearing you apart and you almost got up and left the room. But you didn’t. Because suddenly, the sides of your face were cupped by large hands and his lips were on yours.

Finnick Odair was kissing you.

His lips pressed against yours once more in one long close-mouthed kiss before leaving again. Shock came and left within seconds and you found the courage to copy his actions. Your lips locked perfectly onto his, remaining still, enjoying the pressure and tingly warmth of simply having them connected. Then your lips moved to kiss him again. And again, and again until soon enough, his tongue had slyly slid into your mouth and you had somehow instantaneously become a master at French kissing.

This kiss felt familiar, despite it being your first. Like something you had done millions of times before, but only with him. Like having his lips on yours was the most natural thing to ever exist.

A hand moved onto your waist and suddenly you were being pulled onto his lap, legs straddling his lap. Your hands fell on his chest, mindlessly wandering and feeling the toned muscles ripple underneath your palms as he pulled you closer by the neck to deepen the kiss. Damn the people of the Capitol, but they were right to say he was an incredible kisser.

“Finn,” you huffed in between kisses, “have you got a rock in your pants?”

He pecked your lips once more with a smirk, resting his forehead against yours as you both attempted to catch your breaths. “No,” he chuckled. “I’ve just got a beautiful girl on my lap.”

Your eyes opened to see him grinning at you with mischief. Oh.

“Is that okay?” he asked.

You nodded jerkily. “Ye—Yes, that’s okay.”

“Okay, good.”

Biting your lip, you looked down between your bodies. Curiously, you rocked your hips along the length of his lap once, earning a quiet grunt from him.

He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “Careful,” his voice was low, tempting.

And of course, in full defiance, you did it again. His warning was a bluff. He made no real action to prevent you from grinding any further on his erection, so you kept moving, and he kept revealing how good it made him feel. The thin fabric of your shorts created a little barrier between his hard lap and the growing sensitivity between your thighs.

Meanwhile, you found yourself never wanting to be parted from Finnick’s lips. With every rock of your hips, your hands ran over every inch of his upper body, eventually settling in his hair. The way he kissed reminded you of stories of District Twelve. A district full of hunger and desperation. Only what Finnick was craving wasn’t the fullness of food in his stomach, but the desire to devour you whole. To ravage you. And by God, would you give anything to satiate him.

Forget what you thought before. This wasn’t just a victor keeping his tribute alive. As clear as the sea on a sunny day, this was a man giving himself over to a woman he loved. You. Finnick loved you.

When you pulled back to tentatively lift your shirt over your head, his eyes stayed on yours. Your breasts were literally bare and he just continued to scan the features of your face. However, you did notice the subtle shift in his breathing.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, stroking the side of your breast.

A shy, cheek-warming smile crept on your face and then suddenly, Finnick was rolling you over. Your head fell back onto the soft silk pillows, Finnick hovering above you. This position remained for a long while, the time spent simply kissing each other, alternating between deep tongue-filled kisses and soft sweet pecks. There were moments when you both stopped to flirt or giggle. These were the times you entirely forgot the whole reason you were doing this in the first place.

It was just you and Finnick. Two new lovers in a perfect world.

After a while, your lips had swollen with warm, passionate heat. You were flushed and you didn’t even need to look to know your hair was already a tangled mess. But you didn’t care.

One of Finnick’s hands had begun to wander down your stomach, breaking the established pattern of merely making out. You knew what was coming and surprisingly, you weren’t afraid. Unlike outside the penthouse apartment, there was no danger. Not in this room, in this bed, or in the hands that caressed you. He grazed across the skin beneath your belly button, causing your body to flinch up into his.

Of course, he smirked at that—the smug asshole.

He returned to your lips before lowering down to your neck and sucking soft, red marks into your fragile skin. His fingers found the edge of your waistband. At this point, you were already breathing like a marathoner.

His lips detached from your neck. “Can Itouch you?”

“Yes, please,” you breathed.

As he travelled down, down beneath your waistband, he pecked your reddened lips once more. A soft gasp escaped you and warmth tingled between your thighs. His fingers were gentle as he began circling that sweet, sensitive spot only you had ever touched. Having someone else touch you felt so much more different, so much more exquisite. Your body responded to his touch immediately, hips following each movement of his fingers, breaths quickening in pace.

Finnick gazed down at you, observing each pleasured twist of your expression. He began to pick up the pace as he noticed your body familiarising itself with the sensation. More pressure was applied and the gasps leaving your mouth were gradually turning into quiet moans.

“This feel okay?” he asked. Obviously, he knew the answer, but after years of having others take advantage of him, he couldn’t help but want to hear your willingness. Your consent.

But you weren’t sure if the words could form. Everything felt like it was vibrating. All you could do was focus on the pleasure his fingers were building.

“Come on, sweetheart. You can tell me.”

His voice had taken on that seductive purr he was well-known for and you just couldn’t deny him. It took everything inside you to muster up the words. “It—it feels so good.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. The gesture was so sweet, you could have cried. So sweet even with his hand stroking between your legs and his hard cock pressing against your thigh. Time slowed as his fingers sped up. Muscles in your stomach were tightening. Your insides were churning—not like when you first entered your Games’ arena, but in the best way possible. It was a sensation you had never felt before, but before it could build any more, Finnick’s hand stilled. And you genuinely whined at the loss of friction.

Then his hand moved even lower, resting a singular finger over your slick entrance. Your eyes were wide, unsure of how to feel with the sudden turn of events.

Finnick’s eyes flickered between your own. "You trust me?”

You weren’t sure if an easier question existed. “I do.”

And his lips were on yours again, deep and sensual. His tongue rolled over your own, pushing forward and then retreating in a perfect rhythm. He almost successfully distracted you from the feeling of his middle finger sinking into you knuckle-by-knuckle. Some sort of sound resembling a mix of discomfort and surprise vibrated in your throat as his finger bottomed out.

There wasn’t much pain. It was just an odd feeling.

Your lips parted from his and he looked down at you, his eyes holding an immense amount of security as he communicated through your shared gaze.

Does it hurt?

You gave him a gentle smile. No. Keep touching me.

He returned your smile with a grin. Gladly.

His buried finger curled, shooting a sharp pang up into your stomach which caused your back to arch up against his bare torso. Whether you considered it painful or pleasurable was uncertain. Perhaps a mix of both. He did it again. This time you settled on describing it as a tight twinge in your lower stomach which sent a wave of chills down your legs. Definitely pleasurable. Only, he stopped indulging you with the sensation after the second time.

Instead, you felt another finger slowly slip inside you and whimpered. Now that hurt. You felt your inner walls stretch with the second addition and it stung. Especially when he began to scissor his fingers inside you. This was him preparing you for the real deal. How you were supposed to have Finnick inside you when just his fingers had you stuffed was incomprehensible. But you allowed him to keep going, trying to enjoy the comforting kisses he pampered onto you.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” he said.

Your hands moved to push back his messy bronze hair as he hovered above you. His dimples deepened with a grin and you swore you would endure any pain to keep them etched on his face. After he deemed you stretched out enough, he slowly rose to his knees, unbuttoning his trousers and throwing them aside. You couldn’t do anything but stare. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

The way you gulped was almost cartoonish. How the hell was he supposed to fit? You had never seen a man naked before—you weren’t even sure Finnick was human. He had a body sculptured by the Gods, a face carved by angels, and a… well, let’s just say he didn’t disappoint in any other areas. You weren’t sure if the smug look on his face was real or a carefully curated mask created for his Capitol customers. By the way it quickly washed away, you could tell it was the latter.

He began sliding your shorts down your legs, tossing them to the floor. Suddenly, you felt extremely vulnerable. Almost inferior. Your knees fell together, concealing the most private part of yourself from him. You avoided his gaze, cheeks becoming red and hot as he observed your naked frame. He had a way of looking at you as if you were a long-forgotten masterpiece, rediscovered from centuries of being lost. No one had looked at you like that before him.

Gently, he pried apart your legs and you didn’t bother trying to resist. Only when he descended and settled between your legs did the insecurity dwindle into the background of your mind. Your naked bodies were hot against each other. His weight pinned you against the bed. Everything that was yours touched all that was his. You thought this experience would feel like a dream, but it all felt so real. You were nervous, you were trembling, and your breaths were shaky.

Finnick was quick to recognise the nervousness radiating off you. His arm curled beneath you, somehow pulling you even closer, meanwhile, his other arm rested beside your head. He brushed strands of hair away from your face, soothing you with his tender touch.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

You nodded. You wanted this—wanted Finnick. It was just the anticipation that was killing you. Your thighs squeezed his sides to tell him you were ready. For a few moments longer, he restarted the pattern of sweet kisses, rolling tongues, and the warmth of blood rushing to your head. His hand was caressing your cheek; yours were splayed on his back, gliding over the rippled muscles.

Then finally, he shifted, his hand moving south to align himself with your entrance. All you could do was watch his focused expression. This was the moment. The threshold of your relationship would be ­­crossed as soon as he pushed forward. There was no one else you wanted to share the experience with because you knew this wasn’t just sex. Not for him or for you; it was more than that. Something bordering spiritual, breaking the bounds of physical pleasure and entering into a deep emotional connection. Something no paying customer of the Capitol could provide.

He was gazing down at you, half-cradling your head as he began to say, “Are you su—" But before he could finish, you had pressed your lips to his, answering his question. You were sure. He nodded in response.

His eyes were hesitant he began to push his tip between your folds. Your fingers dug into his back, more from anxiety than anything else. It became a game of stopping and starting as he moved deeper inside inch-by-inch, allowing your walls time to adjust around him. Never had you seen someone’s face filled with so many emotions—concentration, controlled gratification, affection. So many feelings twisted his expression. Meanwhile, yours held only one. Discomfort. He was so big; you felt like you were being split apart and he wasn’t even fully inside yet.

Finally, when his pelvis connected with yours, you exhaled a heavy breath. It hurt. Bad. Finnick had the right idea to lay down a towel because you definitely needed it. He had you filled to the brim, stretched out and stuffed. Even the slightest shift in his position had your hands flying to his shoulders in pain.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yes, just—” You bit your lip in an attempt to suppress a whimper. “Just go slow.”

He nodded. You smiled. Then for some odd reason, you laughed. And then so did he. Finnick’s face fell into the crook of your neck, muffling his boyish laughs into your skin. The added movements had your insides dully aching, but you didn’t pay it much attention. The moment was so innocently intimate that you wanted to stay in it forever. He lifted his head to press his grinning lips to yours and the laughter began to dissipate. Your mouths moved slowly together, full of heat and fervent emotion, and suddenly, Finnick’s body began to move too.

Careful as not to harm you, he slid himself backward in one slow motion and then pushed forward again in another. Pain stung at your inner walls and your lips left his as a gasp escaped your mouth. You were tempted to close your eyes whilst riding out the discomfort but couldn’t bring yourself to look away from Finnick’s face. He was so mesmerizingly beautiful.

His cheeks were a baby pink. Lips were a rosy red. There was a thin sheen covering his forehead, slightly wrinkled by his furrowed brows. Those messy bronze locks you adored so much fell in strands across his forehead. The evident concentration and care on his face just made him look all the more picturesque.

While you admired his features, you started to notice the pain accompanying his slow thrusts was becoming more tolerable. There was still a sting, but also a dull twinge in your stomach that had you biting your bottom lip. It felt sort of… nice. And you wanted to experiment with that feeling.

Your hands were hooked around his shoulders. “Faster.”

Are you sure? His lustful eyes spoke.

You pulled him back down to your mouth. Absolutely.

And so, his hips started to rock back and forth at a faster pace. You could feel yourself clench around his cock from the change of rhythm but forced yourself to relax. He thrust in and out, rubbing against the ripples of your walls, tip brushing at a spot inside you that was anything but pain. That is what you focused on—that one sweet spot.

Time went on and he gradually increased his speed. Your lips were swollen and red, no doubt from the way he would nip and suck on your bottom lip in between each flick of his tongue. His breaths were coming out louder, heavier, as were your own. Soon enough, you were in a rhythm that was both pleasurable for him and for you. The pain lingered but it was no longer unbearable. A shudder ran down your body and your pussy fluttered around him. Finnick broke away from your lips with a breathy groan that you swore you could feel in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

His thrusts became a little faster, a little more painful. A hand slipped down between your bodies and the pain faded quicker than it came. He was rubbing circles around your clit, occasionally running his fingers across it which caused you to lurch upward. All of a sudden, you came to the realisation that everything bad that had been clouding your mind had disappeared. The ache, the confrontation with Snow. Everything. The only thing you could focus on was the pleasure slowly building between your thighs and in your stomach. And Finnick. His tantalising eyes. His wicked mouth. His throbbing cock.

People always said your first time would be horrible; this was anything but. Maybe it had to do with the fact that you… loved him? Yeah, you loved him. Also because he was something of an expert at sex. You were in a pretty unlucky predicament but having Finnick willingly fucking you was a blessing.

His fingers were relentless, applying the perfect amount of pleasure that had you writhing beneath him. And added with the sensation of his cock repeatedly hitting that spot inside you, your uneven breaths turned into soft moans. He fucked, he rubbed, he nipped and sucked at the delicate skin of your neck. Heat was enveloping your entire body.

“Finnick,” you moaned.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” His voice was strained and hoarse.

His hand left your clit, hooking around your thigh, and curling it around his back so he could thrust even deeper. He restarted his rhythm of rubbing circles, but his thrusts felt different. Instead of just brushing that sensitiveness deep inside you, he was mercilessly hitting it. Over and over. Your moans were louder now; Finnick was more vocal too, grunting and occasionally uttering words of praise.

This went on for a while. His stamina was incredible—if you had a moment to think, you would have realised the depressing reasoning behind it. But you couldn’t think at all. Your heel was digging into his back; nails scratching at his skin. Both of you had a layer of sweat covering your bodies, skin wet, slapping and sliding over one another. Your pheromones had filled the room with the smell of sex, driving your need to finish.

Finnick’s mouth had been everywhere at this point. Your lips, your neck, shoulders, and breasts. Everywhere except your pussy, not that it really mattered anymore.

It was hard for you to comprehend how fucking amazing the sensations you felt were. There was heat and pressure pooling in your stomach, increasing at a slow pace, and growing more powerful by the minute. Finnick’s hips moved at a steady pace, but his hand had begun to slow. Even he had to succumb to fatigue at some point. He sounded like he had run for miles though was obviously pushing himself on for your benefit.

Instead of ceasing his tiring hand movements entirely, he switched hands. And that was when the heat in your stomach turned into a blazing inferno. He was much faster now. Applied more pressure. Your head fell back against the pillow with a cry. His cock was throbbing inside you at the sound.

“That feel good? Huh?” he practically moaned.

He left kisses across the stretch of your neck, running his tongue over the skin and leaving behind red marks.

“Yes!” you cried out.

Your entire body felt like it was being dipped into a white-hot flame of pleasure and the feeling was only increasing. It was clear Finnick felt the same way. His thrusts were becoming more frantic, he was cursing left and right, and he was practically pulsing inside you.

The heat in your stomach was overwhelming but you needed more.

“Finnick, I feel—I feel—” You couldn’t describe even it.

Finnick nodded, breathing heavily above you. God, he looked gorgeous. “You’re gonna come.”

Your half-lidded needy eyes met his. Something about him saying those words sent a wave of acceleration through your body. You hadn’t known what the edge was until you were on the brink of coming, and there was no stopping it. His cock plunged in and out, pushing deep inside you, practically rocketing your orgasm to the surface with each thrust. His fingers moved at such an intense pace you didn’t even know was physically possible.

As your eyes fluttered shut, your mouth fell open and every frantic breath, moan, and cry was able to escape. Finnick had the same problem. Fuck, he sounded so sexy, it only spurred you on.

Then it hit you all at once. “Fu—"

Every inch of your body tensed. You were sent into a space where white noise filled your hearing and bliss was all you knew. No pain. No sadness. Just ecstasy. Electric sparks jolted up and down your body, rising to your head, and causing you to see stars behind your closed eyes. Your moans were uncontrollable and desperate, voicing Finnick’s name over and over.

His thrusts were frenzied and sloppy, prolonging your orgasm as long as he could. He had lifted your lower back into an arch, enhancing the sensation coursing through your body. Your walls were clenching and pulsing around him, so much that he was abruptly thrown into his own high. His hips stuttered and eventually, his cock filled you as deep as he could, spurting out warm strings of white that coated your inner walls.

He collapsed on top of you, face buried in the crook of your neck. Your fingers wound into his hair, clinging to him as the aftershocks of your orgasm ravaged your body. Legs trembling and mouth panting, you lay there allowing yourself to regain your breath and ability to move.

After pressing a lazy kiss to your neck, Finnick slid off you, falling onto the bed beside you. Hopefully the towel was enough to save the silk sheets.

Now that you were resting, exhaustion had the chance to cloud your mind. You weren’t sure what the customs were after sex—whether you made conversation or simply went to sleep. The latter sounded pretty good though. A warm hand slipped beneath your back, turning your body sideways and pulling you so you were half strewn across Finnick’s chest and legs. You made no effort to resist.

Eyes closed, you listened to the heart beating inside his ribs. Thrumming intensely though starting to return to a normal rate.

“Are you okay?” he asked with a murmur, sounding utterly drained.

His thumb drew gentle patterns on the skin of your waist.

You nodded against his chest, remaining silent. After a little while you finally decided to speak. “I’m glad it was you.” And then after a few more moments of silence, you added, “I wish it was just you.”

You felt him press his lips to the top of your head. A long and emotional kiss. The whole reasoning behind losing your virginity returned to mind. It felt heavy, weighing down the atmosphere in the room. No matter how hard you tried to deny it, what was coming was inevitable. You wouldn’t get to stay with Finnick in this bed. You wouldn’t get to belong to him, or he you. You both belonged to the Capitol. To Snow. No matter how much you wished to belong to each other.

He whispered, “Me too.”

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