The Hunger Games Fanfiction - Tumblr Posts

THE GHOSTS THAT HAUNT YOU .𖥔 ݁ ˖๋࣭ ⭑🌱🌲

Prompt: Katniss freaks and panics over a Peeta choking her flashback. Peeta himself puts the pieces of her back together. Much whomp ensues.

Word count: 1.5k

cw: panic attacks, flashbacks, trauma, angst (but there’s a happy ending!)

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“I’ve been called up to the Capitol.”

Katniss is sitting on a stool by the kitchen counter watching Peeta knead some fresh dough when the words leave his mouth.

Instantly, her gaze snaps up to Peeta's, all the air rushing straight out of her lungs. It feels like she’s taken a bullet to the stomach.

(Katniss would know about the latter. She’s been shot in the stomach before.)

A single tentative word leaves her.

“What?”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    

“I got the news this morning. They said I’m due for a check up.” Peeta replies; patient and gentle with her, far too kind for Katniss’s rough edges and sharp demeanour. He's still busy with the dough, but his eyes drift over to where she is - concern nestled in the blue of his irises.

The girl sits with the news for a little. Letting herself think at first that maybe she’s misheard. That this is all some cruel and sick scenario her head has made up to scare her.

But then the information begins to churn inside of her, looping around her ribcage, tightening around her lungs until she feels like can't breathe anymore.

“Katniss?”

“You’re leaving?”

Peeta brushes his hands off on the apron before stepping over to her, crouching down so that they’re eye level.

“It would only be a few days, sweetheart. Just so they can check me out. Then I’ll be straight back.” His hand is steady when he tucks her hair behind her ear, but this is Peeta and Katniss knows him better than she knows herself. He’s a practiced liar, but by now it’s easy for her to pick up on the way his smile wobbles slightly as he speaks.

“I don’t like it any more than you do, “ the boy murmurs. “But I have to go.”

Katniss knows logically that he’s telling the truth. That Peeta Mellark dislikes the Capitol just as much as she does. That he would never go back willingly unless it was something serious. The fierce urge to protect stirs inside of her and Katniss finds herself realising that she hates the Capitol, but she hates the thought of Pesta going alone even more.

“Can I come with you?”

(Katniss’s pardon does not allow for trips back to the Capitol and they both know it, but it’s still worth a try)

Peeta’s posture droops a little, expression sinking when he shakes his head.

“They won’t let you. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I did ask.”

Just like that, it’s gone. The last sliver of hope left in her. Katniss feels herself deflate, a thousand thoughts rushing through her head at breakneck speed. Noticing her growing panic, Peeta squeezes her hand in his.

“I’m coming back to you, Katniss. I will always come back to you.”

What if they decide to keep him there? What if they take him away from me? What if he comes back different? What if he doesn't know me anymore?

This last thought is the loudest and cruelest of them all.

Because that’s what really scares her. Not the thought of being alone again. Not the thought of having to face a few days with only Haymitch and Buttercup for company.

The thing that frightens Katniss most of all is the thought of Peeta Mellark not knowing who she is when he comes back.

“Please don’t go.” She hates how broken and frightened her final plea sounds in her own ears

“I have to.” His hands move up to cup her face tenderly, fingers gentle on her jaw and neck, but Katniss finds herself flinching backwards sharply.

The memory hits her like a barrel.

“Are you coming then?” Haymitch sounds lighter than he has in days and Katniss herself can barely contain her giddy excitement as they hurry towards the room that Peeta is in.

They got him back. 

He’s back, he’s back, he’s back.

That’s the only thing in her mind. Peeta is back and safe with her and maybe he can help her start making sense of Coin and Thirteen and the rebellion.

Something warm and sweet pools in her chest alongside the nerves. Hope.

Peeta is already standing up when Katniss opens the door, and the first thing that she registers is how gaunt he looks. Like his time at the Capitol has taken everything out of him and left a carcass in its wake.

But he’s still Peeta. He’s still her Peeta. Blue eyes and blonde waves. Strong hands, dimples.

Katniss reaches out for him, arms open - ready to pull his close and not let go for a long time - and Peeta steps forward too. His hands come up to her face to brush his fingers against her cheeks. Katniss can’t stop the smile that she feels unfurling on her face.

But then something in his eyes changes, and Katniss is too slow to react.

His hands find her neck, heavy and tight and suddenly the girl on fire can’t breathe. She struggles and kicks against him, but Peeta doesn’t relent - his hands pressing against her throat so forcefully that red begins to seep into the corners of her vision.

Haymitch and Boggs are there in an instant, trying their best to pull Peeta off her but his hands feel like they’ve been welded to her skin. The boy looks like something wild, something feral, snarling and baring his teeth at the men as they try to pull him off.

Katniss Everdeen has fought to survive every single day for the past seventeen years. But right now, held in the mercy of the boy she loves, Katniss feels all the fight leave her. She is going to die here. At the hands of the boy the Capitol once called her star-crossed lover.

The last thing she remembers before her vision goes black is the tearstained whisper that leaves her lips.

“I forgive you.”

Then, nothing.

“Katniss? Katniss?”

When Peeta’s voice drags her out of the depths of the flashback, the first thing she notices is that his hands are no longer on her.

Peeta Mellark is kneeling in front of her, palms up to show that he means no harm, eyes wide and worried.

“You with me, sweetheart? Can I touch you?”

The questions barely registers in Katniss’s head as she avoids his gaze.

“What- what if you come back different, Peeta I…”

“Hey, hey.” The boy’s voice is sweet. Reassuring. And Katniss can tell that he’s doing his best to not come closer - fighting against his every instinct to pull her back into his arms.

“They’re not going to change me, honey. I’m still going to be me when I come back. They aren’t Snow or Coin, Katniss. They’re good people, I promise.”

But she can still feel the ghost of his hands clenching around her throat. The bruises have long since faded, but the memory of what the Capitol turned Peeta Mellark into has not.

(Katniss doesn’t know if it ever will.)

They could turn him against her easily. They’ve done it before and the thought of it happening again terrifies her. Angry eyes, screams and insults hurled in her direction by a boy who doesn't know who she is anymore. A boy who sees her as the enemy rather than as someone who loves him.

Panic rears its ugly head once again.

“What if they hurt you? Or- Or if they change you and you don’t recognise me anymore? Peeta I wouldn’t survive that, I wouldn't-”

Katniss’s breath begins to come out in short sharp gasps and her hands curl up in fists at her side - nails digging into her palms hard enough to draw blood. She can’t breathe, can't do anything apart from letting the fear roll over her in big, black waves that threaten to drown her.

“You’re working yourself up, my love. You have to breathe, okay? Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

The girl shakes her head, whimpering a little when her vision blurs with tears.

“You can, Katniss. I promise you can.” Peeta shuffles closer, careful to keep his hands were she can see them. “C’mon, Kat. deep breaths. You can do it.”

Slowly but surely, as she follows Peeta’s slow, exaggerated breaths, Katniss finds that the panic around her lungs loosens. She looks up at Peeta, his blue eyes finding hers ones instantly.

“Can I touch you?” The boy tries again.

Katniss nods and leans forward ever so slightly, then Peeta is scooping her off the chair and into his lap, wrapping his arms around her easily.

“I’m scared that they’ll make you forget me again.” Her teary words are muffled against his sweatshirt.

Peeta pulls away gently, a slight smile on his lips as he reaches out to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“They couldn’t make me forget you, sweetheart. Not in a million years.”

His comforting words don't stop, even when Katniss burrows back into him, nestling her head into the space under his chin.

“I’ll come back,” he says to Katniss, lips moving against the crown of her head as his hands slip under the back of her shirt to run across the scarred skin there that has never bothered him.

The residue of worry clings onto Katniss, but here, safe in Peeta’s embrace, she thinks she can handle it for a while.

Peeta’s arms tighten reassuringly around her.

“I promise. I’ll come back to you.”

 .𖥔 ݁ ˖๋࣭ ⭑🌱🌲

NO GRAVE CAN HOLD MY BODY DOWN (I’LL CRAWL HOME TO HER)

word count: 13,851 (what the hell?!)

spotify playlist

read on AO3

“Finnick.”

His name rings out again, echoing wetly off the cement walls around him, and Finnick shudders because he knows that voice.

When he cracks his eyes open, Annie Cresta is leaning over him.

Except it’s not actually Annie. Not in any way that matters at least. This version is too watery, far too washed out and faint to be his Annie. His Annie is vibrant and lovely and hopefully very very far from the Capitol right now. Finnick thinks rather morbidly that he must have lost a lot of blood if he’s hallucinating her already.

or,

Finnick Odair doesn't die in the sewers, but he still has a very rough time getting out of them.

literally no one asked, but here's The Returning Song from the Ficnick to music! i wrote it as a song and it's meant to be heard as that, but i couldn't exactly put an mp3 file in the middle of the fic so this will do!

HOME IS WHEREVER YOU ARE TONIGHT𖥔 ݁ ˖๋࣭ ⭑🌱🌲

Fluff request: sleepy katniss demands to be carried by peeta

Word count: 1.3k

cw: none!

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Keep reading

HERE IS THE PLACE WHERE I LOVE YOU

prompt: Katniss has a nightmare and Peeta comforts her!

Word count: 1.7k

cw: nightmares, canon typical violence, trauma

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Keep reading

TAS Server motivated me to create a TBOSAS (Snowbaird) crossover with Jarogen, and here is the finished product! I usually never post my fanfics here, but I am proud of this one and Tumblr is really lacking TAS content right now!! Stay alive guys! Enjoy. <3

hii!! could i request a snow fic where she finds out she cheats on him and voluntarily tributes and hes trying to get her back? i loved the other fics!! I NEED MORE CHEATING SNOW FICS OMGG

Don’t blame me, love made me crazy. || Young President!Coriolanus snow x district!reader

A/n: Sorry anon I hope you’re not disappointed that I didn't fully write your request. I wanted Coryo to lowk suffer in this which is why I didn't dive into details of him getting her back. There is also one scene that is heavily inspired by a scene in the movie Priscilla! I also spent so many hours perfecting this and it was super fun!!!

Warnings: fem!reader, implied infidelity, toxic!coriolanus, manipulation, not proofread, if there's anything else pls lmk!

Wc: 1609

Divider by @firefly-graphics

The rapid clicks echoed throughout the hallway, the sound reverberating off the 12-foot-high ceiling walls. You walk with an eager stride, each step filled with anticipation as you take the familiar route to Coriolanus' office where he spent most, if not, all of his time cooped up in due to the upcoming hunger games.

There was a heaviness in your heart. You have always been the epitome of grace and composure, a woman who played her role in the political theater with finesse, albeit your brief upbringing in district 2. However, behind closed doors, the truth unfolded, resulting in you heartbroken and most of all betrayed. You couldn't ignore the letters that would pile up weekly, the gifts, all for him, from someone by the name Lysandra.

Not bothering to knock, knowing it would provoke a reaction from him, you forcefully swung the double doors open. There sat Coriolanus Snow, seemingly unbothered at your entrance. "Is there a problem?" An icy, impersonal tone carried his words, sharp and emotionless.

Your nose flared as you felt a surge of frustration, his lack of concern and emotion fuelling your anger. Besides, you had never stormed into his office unannounced before. Surely, he would question your sudden abruptness and, visibly, your anger.

Your voice, though filled with a trembling resolve, posed the question, "Who is she?" You hold a letter between your fingers, lifting it up to show him. He lifts his head up from his papers. "And why on earth is she sending my husband gifts and-and love letters?" You stammer, throwing the piece of paper with writing and a kiss—in the form of a lipstick mark in a shade of deep red—on his desk; your façade crumbling at your feet.

Snow stares at you before a scoff leaves his lips, leaning back on his chair. "You know how the people admire me, it's likely that whoever it is, she's simply passionate about expressing her feelings to me," Coriolanus shrugs. Your eye twitches at his response. Lies.

"Really? Well, Lysandra is ever so passionate about expressing her undying love for you," You recite the words from her letter as you watch a subtle glint of knowing in his eyes, "She's the only one who has described her so-called affection for you so intimately!"

As you question your husband's loyalty, an unsettling quiet settles around him. His eyes, cold and calculating, hold yours without a trace of vulnerability. The absence of words from his lips becomes a formidable response, leaving an ominous uncertainty lingering in the air.

His office echoed with a tense hush, broken only by a subtle tapping of his fingers against the armrest in a rhythmic patter. "For god's sake, Coryo. Say something! Who is she?" The slip of his nickname makes you swallow.

"I won't entertain your accusation. She's merely an admirer, nothing more! Have you finished exhausting yourself with this matter, wife?" Coriolanus seethes, abruptly standing up as he gathers his papers, opens his drawer, shoves them in, and slams it shut with such force that you swore you felt it in your bones.

"Is there something your hiding from me?" There was a tense silence that followed your question, Snow's features contorted with a mix of frustration and defiance. Avoiding eye contact, he clenched his jaw and emitted a sharp exhale. The air was thick with unspoke tension, revealing an anger that simmered beneath the surface.

"I have nothing to hide from you," He says calmly but you knew damn well there was anything but calmness within him. Annoyed and frustrated at the lack of information, you open your mouth again.

'"Throughout our entire marriage, I have done nothing but showed you how grateful I am that you chose me to marry, a district girl. You helped me build a reputation here in the capitol so that I would finally be respected, and now, I ask just one simple thing of you," As you speak your voice wavers slightly, revealing the depth of emotion behind your words. "Who is she to you?"

In mere seconds, Coriolanus storms past you, a blur of motion, leaving you momentarily bewildered as you blink, only to find yourself in the same spot. "Coriolanus!" You yell, spinning around as you follow him. "I've just had about enough of you for today y/n," He spat as he briskly walked up stairs, you following him. Servants who were around hurriedly walk pass, heads down.

He steps into your shared private chamber, adorned with decadent furnishings and overlooking the Capitol. He walks a couple steps before he just stops. His breath came in heavy, rhythmic waves, his chest rising and falling with urgency, leaving you standing frozen at the entrance.

"You know, I think you should go see your family for a little while," He turns around as you felt your heart drop. "What?" Your voice echoed with a helpless tone. "You heard me, I think your family has been missing you in the districts, go pay them a visit. Tell them how grateful you have been that I chose you as the First Lady of Panem, hm?"

He takes purposeful strides to the next room, filled from top to bottom with expensive, lavish pieces of clothing befitting both him and you. Coriolanus then pulls out a travelling trunk. The thought of you going back to district 2 sent shivers up your spine. You knew that everyone there now thinks of you as a traitor.

"What- No- Coryo, I'm not going-" Coriolanus cuts you off with a yell, tears forming in your eyes, "I think you should! Matter of fact, I'll help you start packing." A loud noise comes from the trunk making contact with the floor making you jump, a sob leaving your lips. The trunk opening as he starts aggressively pulling your clothes from the black velvety hangers, tossing them into the trunk.

"Coryo- please. Don't make me go back there," You fall to you knees in front of the trunk as your shaky hands remove the pieces of clothing from it. "Yeah, well I think a few months in the districts, away from your lavish life here, will make you realise how easy it is that I can send you back there." He forcefully takes your chin in between his thumb and index as your glassy eyes stare back at his icy, raging, blue eyes.

"Please, please don't send me back there-" Your beg becomes interrupted as he drops his grip on you and yells out the door, "Simon! Get the train ready now for Y/n to go back home!" He calls out to his assistant who answers out a "Of course Mr. President," You let out another sob as you rest your head on the pile of clothing.

Coriolanus glances over his shoulder, his breaths lingering in the air, he could hear your quiet pleas. There's a yearning within him, a desire to approach you and envelop you in a reassuring hug, to tell your that everything is alright and that forgives you. Yet, and unyielding pride restrains him, holding him back from acknowledging that what he was doing was wrong.

With one final look, he turns around, leaving you in a crying mess. Coriolanus was going to send you back to district 2 until the hunger games finished, then, he would come get you and hope that your time there made you ponder your actions, although he knew they were quite reasonable.

Your allegiance to your husband shattered when you were forced onto the train, Coriolanus stood a couple metres away from you as you squirm in the peacekeeper's grips. As you made your way back to a place you once called home, a quiet determination settled within you as you hatched a plan that would not only expose Coriolanus' betrayal, but also allow you to reclaim a piece of your shattered identity.

~

As the Reaping day approached, you made a choice that sent shockwaves through the carefully orchestrated world of Panem. With a steady hand, you inscribed your own name on a slip of paper and placed it in the glass ball, committing yourself to the Hunger Games.

On the day of the Reaping, the Capitol Square buzzed with anticipation, the districts, not so much. Coriolanus, very much unaware of his wife's hidden actions, stood in front of the dignitaries on the stage.

The customary ceremony began, the escort pulls a slip pf paper from the glass ball, announcing the male tribute who would face the Capitol's twisted version of justice.

As the tension mounted, the escort unfolded a slip of paper and read aloud, "Y/n Snow." A gasp rippled through the crowd, and Coriolanus's face contorted with disbelief. Time seemed to free as he processed the shock of seeing his wife's name called out. Surely there was a mistake.

The realisation hit him like a sledgehammer, and anger boiled within him, mixing with the shock and confusion as the crowd erupted in whispers. A woman of Capitol elegance was now standing among the district 2 residents.

You weave through the rows of people, maintaining a stoic expression. As you step up on the stage, your eyes land on the camera a couple feet away from you where you know Snow was watching back in the Capitol.

Coriolanus stared at your face and in that moment, he saw the resolve and defiance that had replaced the hurt in your eyes. The Capitol, known for its love of spectacle, witnessed an unprecedented turn of events. Coriolanus Snow, the powerful President, was rendered speechless as his own actions came back to haunt him in the cruelest twist of fate.

Camera Ready ✧･ﾟ: Finnick Odair x reader

Summary: Neither of you really care if anyone sees.

Warning: exhibitism, voyeurism, p n v, riding, they fuck in the arena while it’s being televised, spit kink, size kink, creampie, switch ! Finnick, switch! Reader

⭒

“You know you could walk a little slower, sweetness. ”

Finnick’s voice blares out teasingly into the morning air as he trails behind you. Your hair sticks to your forehead in sweaty strands, your body on high alert as you make sure to scope out any remaining candidates that aren’t on your side. Which isn’t much, considering you have Katniss and the others, but it’s still a good idea to be cautious. To your relief you had found Finnick in the woods last night. And as much of a victor as you are, the dark makes you nervous. So he had allowed you to sleep beside him, curled up with his arms wrapped around you. It wasn’t intentional, of course, but when he sleeps it seems that he tends to get handsy. And when the warmth of his body was beside you, you couldn’t resist letting him throw you into his embrace.

“Maybe you could walk a little faster, pretty boy.”

He chuckles at the nickname, his pace finally catching up with you so you can see the cocky smile on his face.

“You think I’m pretty?”

Your friendship is like this, a lot. Flirtation, playful banter, and a few hook ups every now and then since the two of you met at a capital event one year. And now, even when you’re supposed to be enemies, you’re working together. It’s just a connection, an order that makes you both flow freely with each other and get the things you desire.

You ignore the way Finnick’s hands ignite flames on your skin and the way his smile makes your heart flourish. You also ignore the way you feel the constant need to protect him and keep him alive. In this game, you can’t have anything serious.

“Mm..” you reply. “Sometimes.”

Your hands wrap around his neck as you pull him to you. He smiles, that pretty crooked smile, and presses a kiss to your temple.

And then, you hear a snap.

You and Finnick are both on high alert then, and turning around you’re both faced with a victor. Not an ally, it seems, as she’s pointing a knife at the both of you.

It doesn’t take long before she’s dead, but it’s still a bother to you. You don’t like murdering these people, and you’ve never liked the whole idea or subject of the hunger games. The first time you had won, but at what cost when they’ve sent you right back in?

It’s kill or be killed. And as the woman’s blood splatters on your face, you sense that familiar feeling of rage from the first time you killed creeping back into your psyche. That rage that loathes the capital, loathes those stupid fucking districts as they fall into the ground. And your knife doesn’t stop the assault on her as you make sure she’s dead. It’s better, this way, to overdo it so they don’t have to suffer. Finnick is surprised at your strength and skill, he always has been, but he finds it best not to bring it to attention.

As you two walk away, the woods begins to clear. And then you both watch as you see the Arena come into view, dark and blood soaked.

“Great,” you mutter. “More to show the people.”

It’s obvious that everything is being recorded, but this is the most clear spot. As you sit down on one of the rock formations, your lean back to watch the clouds and the orange sunset. Finnick sits beside you, his neck and chest splattered with blood. And after a moment, you begin to speak.

“I don’t like doing this.” You state. “It’s all bullshit. It’s psychotic.”

Finnick nods in agreement, his jaw clenched as he watches the stains on your shirt.

“We should give them a show.” He says. “Do something that we know they can’t get away from.”

And that’s when you get the idea.

You look at him, a mere glance. You’re both probably sweaty and disgusting, but even now Finnick looks absolutely god like. You know he’s chiseled, under that gray suit. And you know what big thing lies underneath the crotch of his underwear.

You smile, your hand coming to rest gently on his muscled thigh. His eyebrows furrow in confusion, as he watches your palm begin to move up more.

“What are you doing?” He asks. He doesn’t seem completely against the idea, though. Because then that cocky smirk you know so good and well is plastered onto his face, his hands finding there way to the exposed skin of your shoulder. He leans over and kisses your collarbone, gently. You huff, your lips moving to graze the spot below his ear.

“If they want them a show, let’s give them a show.”

Seeming to be on the same page, Finnick crashes his lips into yours in a bruising kiss.

Meanwhile, at the capital, the monitors in the room begin to awkwardly watch as you push Finnick down onto the rocky arm. His back hits the floor with a grunt, and then he’s watching as you sit up and unzip the back of your suit. He groans when your tits are revealed to them, full and sitting in all their glory. He brings his hands up and gropes one in his hand, feels the soft skin and your pert nipples being brought to attention. You tut when he tries to move his fingers down to your pussy.

“No, Finn.” You coo. Your nails scratch his addam’s apple, and he flushes as you begin to climb on top of him. “No touching there until I say.”

He groans when you press down against his growing bulge.

“You know if we don’t hurry we could die, right?” He huffs.

“I don’t want to hear excuses, baby. We both know fucking me again is the last thing you want to do before you go.”

He can’t deny that, and as you demand that he lift himself up and unzip his suit down to his thighs, he follows your directions with desperation. You watch as you pull his briefs down below his balls, watch as his girthy length springs to full attention. He moans when your hand connects to his skin, and begins to jerk him off with vigor. You can feel a tension in the air, the feeling of being watched extremely prominent. And it shouldn’t get you so wet, but it does. So you bring yourself to eye level with Finnick’s cock, and spit down on him, quick to shove his tip into the warm confines of your mouth. He makes a deep sound in his throat, and you move away teasingly when his hips try and move his cock farther into your throat.

“C’mon, sugar.” He says, overwhelmed. “Don’t be mean.”

“Why don’t you just shut up and do what I say, Odair?” You demand. You slap his cock, and he groans, legs beginning to tremble at the pain and pleasure mixing. “Besides, I’m not letting you use my mouth right now. I just needed to get you wet.”

He whines in protest when you pull away from him. But then you’re pushing your suit down, past your calfs and onto the ground.

So help you, if you’re going to die it’s going to be like this.

When your pussy is revealed to him, Finnick’s cock jumps and he sits up to guide you to his lap. He’s warm, his cock drooling and messy. You don’t hesitate to rub his tip against your clit, your thighs holding his lean body down.

“Please, y/n, fuck!” Finnick stutters, the feeling of your wet silky cunt making him go crazy.

You smile as you finally guide him to your entrance, and sink down. His cock fills you up to impossible levels, his balls pressed flush against you when he finally bottoms out. His hands go to your waist, and when you bounce on him, his eyes roll back and he cries out like a bitch in heat.

“Jesus Christ.. you feel so fuckin’ good, angel. Love your pussy so much.”

“I know, sweet boy.” You moan when he grazes a soft spot inside you. “It f-feels good, doesn’t it? My little pussy feel good around that big cock?”

“God, yes. Cmon, ride me harder, momma. I know you can.”

And when you begin to fuck him faster, he brings his hands down to your ass, and begins bucking up into you with a feral pace. Your arousal makes him keen, makes his brain turn to mush the moment your scent hits him. You look so beautiful, so flushed and perfect, and something snaps inside of Finnick, then. His fingers spread your cheeks apart, and his voice is raw.

“Bet you like this, huh? The whole capital watching you get fuckin’ destroyed by my big cock? Hm?”

You gasp at his words, your fingers clawing at his chest.

“Finn, baby, fuck!”

“You love it, don’t you?”

No reply. Finnick slaps your ass harshly, and you yelp at the sting. His hands grab your throat in a harsh grip.

“Answer me!” He demands. You cry out, trying to nod the best you can, and then uttering out a “Yes! Yes sir!” As his large hands cut off your air supply.

“That’s my fuckin girl.” He replies. His fingers rub your clit, leaving your throat as you gasp for air and your orgasm washes over you. Your pussy gushes all over him, soaking his cock and balls and the rock below the both of you, and without warning Finnick is grabbing your hips with his large hands and turning you over so you’re beneath him. It’s quick, and you’re incredibly surprised. You wrap your legs around him as he begins to pummel you, now with more leverage and strength, and his cock feels like it’s destroying you from the inside out. You don’t complain, though. And when Finnick’s hips begin stuttering, you know he’s about to cum.

“C’mon, baby, cum inside me, cum in my pussy!”

Your words spur him on, makes him leave bruising marks on your wrists as he holds them above your head and begins to cum in thick, messy ropes. Your walls practically milk him of everything he’s got, and when he’s done you can feel the stickiness of his seed dripping off his cock and onto your thighs.

He buries his face in your neck, then. And with a small laugh, he pulls himself out and begins to lick his cum out of you. Your middle finger comes up into the air as he does it. A sign, as the victor from district 4 eats your pussy. A big ‘fuck you’ to the capital.

The cameramen and people at home watch in shock and awe. There’s a debate of whether or not they should turn it off, and after a while everyone becomes too distracted by the images on screen to worry about it. The next day, none of the other tributes look at you both the same.

Because at that time, they had been watching, too.

@emsbookcase

okay but here me out, FINNICK ODAIR WITH ONE OF THE GIRL INSPIRATION

an : i got this inspiration when i listened to the song and heard the hook part, and this plot just popped up in my head, so this is just smut and bad grammar. i know my grammar was bad. i'm gonna use the grammar corrector before posting this, but just so you know, english is not my first language.

we don't gotta be in love, no i don't gotta be the one, no i just wanna be one of your girls tonight

imagine, you, the daughter of a millionaire in a capitol, were invited to a party where, of course, Finnick was there since he's getting paid (or invited?) to be here, and of course he's a star, a shining star, stealing everyone's attention the first moment he steps in.

your eyes can't even leave his figure—his tall, muscular figure and you know damn well you want him, just like any girl does. i mean who wouldn't? but you also know that this is not love. it's a want, a desire. you just need him, his body, his service. it's clear that you did not want him as your lover or groom, to you, you only need him to be in your bed just tonight. a simple one-night stand thing.

so you did get what you wanted. his hand on your hips, his back against yours, while he whispers praise into your ear. "you're such a good girl" "you did it so well" "you feel so good" that goddamn thing you know he probably said that to others since it was to make his customer feel good and you did not care at all. it makes you feel good, and that's enough. you don't care who got to hear that from him too, this moment is just you and him.

his cock was inside you, making you feel like heaven, his thrust made you see stars. now you understand why he gets called 'Capitol Sweetheart' because he really knows how to make his customers satisfied.

you moan—the loudest moan that ever made it way out of your throat—no one has ever made you feel as good as Finnick did. just from the way he gave you an oral in the beginning, it was enough to make you know this night would be replaying in your head for a long time.

his hand found its way to your clit, making you feel like you were going to explode in any minute. his hot breath against your skin and how he said "cum for me, darling" were just so perfect. his thrust fastened as if he knew you're so close to climax, and he's right, just having his hard cock inside you was almost enough to make you cum right there, and Finnick knew that too, but of course, since it was his service, he's continued fucking you even though he knows you won't last long.

and when this night ended, he let you hold him until the sunrise (another customer service for sure), and when you did say goodbye to him, he just walked out with that fucking smirk on his face. getting to know your secret was probably his favorite way to get paid from his customer, after all.

( another an : i feel so guilty writing this, but i hope you can understand what i'm trying to write lol. my first smut in english and it's already so fucked up lmao )

Title:Set Fire to the Rain

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Haymitch Abernathy x Fem!Reader

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District 12 had always been a place of despair and survival. It was a backdrop of soot and ashes, where life was more about getting through the day than living it. Amongst this grayscale existence, Haymitch Abernathy found himself in the same bleak routine: drunk, disheveled, and drowning in his memories of the past Hunger Games he had won so many years ago. He had long since stopped believing in hope, love, or redemption. But then, there was you.

You had always seen something more in Haymitch. Despite the walls he had built around himself, despite the self-destructive tendencies, you believed there was still a part of him worth saving. Your heart, though bruised by its own battles, saw his pain and wanted to heal it. For a while, it seemed like you were making progress. He began to drink less, laugh more, and sometimes, just sometimes, he would let you in past those iron walls.

But the Capitol never truly let go of its victors, and Haymitch was no exception. The memories, the nightmares, and the guilt were chains that he could never quite break free from. And on those nights, when the darkness consumed him, he would push you away with harsh words and cold silence, leaving you to pick up the shattered pieces of your heart.

One particularly stormy evening, the rain poured down on District 12 like a cleansing fire, a rare and violent storm. You found Haymitch in his usual spot, the run-down house that smelled of old liquor and regret. He was sitting by the window, a half-empty bottle of white liquor in his hand, staring at the rain as if it could wash away his sins.

"Haymitch," you called softly, stepping into the room. "You don't have to do this alone."

He turned to you, his eyes bloodshot and weary. "What do you want from me, Y/N?" His voice was a blend of anger and sorrow, each word a knife to your heart.

"I want to help you," you replied, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. "I want you to let me in."

"You can't help me," he spat, standing up abruptly. "No one can. Not you, not anyone. I'm broken, Y/N. Can't you see that?"

Your heart ached at his words, but you refused to give up. "I don't believe that, Haymitch. I believe you can heal. We can heal together."

He laughed, a bitter, hollow sound that echoed through the empty room. "Together? Don't you get it? I destroy everything I touch. I killed them, Y/N. All those kids. And I can't...I can't live with that. How could you?"

Tears streamed down your face as you stepped closer to him, your hands reaching out to touch his, but he recoiled, the look in his eyes one of pure torment. "Haymitch, please. Let me in. Let me help you carry this."

"No!" he shouted, the bottle slipping from his hand and shattering on the floor. "Just go, Y/N. Leave me. Save yourself."

Your heart shattered with the bottle, the finality of his words sinking in. You had given him everything, your love, your hope, your dreams of a future together. And now, it was all crumbling down around you.

"I can't," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the storm. "I love you, Haymitch."

He turned away, unable to meet your gaze. "Go, Y/N. Before I hurt you more than I already have."

With a heavy heart, you turned and walked out into the storm, the rain mingling with your tears. Each step away from him felt like a dagger to your soul, but you knew you couldn't stay. Not when he was so determined to push you away, to drown in his own misery.

The rain poured down, a cleansing fire that mirrored the agony in your heart. You walked through the empty streets of District 12, the sound of the storm drowning out your sobs. As the rain washed over you, you felt a small spark of hope amidst the overwhelming sorrow. Perhaps, someday, he would realize that he didn't have to face his demons alone. Perhaps, someday, he would find his way back to you.

But for now, you had to let go. You had to set fire to the rain, to burn away the pain and the heartache. Because sometimes, the only way to save someone is to let them go.

As the storm raged on, you whispered a final goodbye to the man you loved, praying that the rain would wash away his torment and lead him back to you one day. Until then, you would carry the hope that love, no matter how broken, could one day heal even the deepest wounds.

Crimson Rain and Golden Sands

(Finnick Odair x reader)

The jungle air was thick and humid, clinging to every inch of exposed skin. The cacophony of sounds from unseen creatures echoed through the dense foliage, creating a disorienting atmosphere that made it difficult to discern friend from foe. The Quarter Quell arena was a masterpiece of cruelty, designed to break even the strongest tributes. And it was succeeding.

You pressed forward through the jungle, your heart pounding with anxiety. You had been separated from Finnick Odair, your ally and anchor in this nightmare. His reassuring presence was a balm to the constant threat of death, but now, without him, the oppressive weight of fear was almost too much to bear.

You stumbled through the underbrush, every rustle making you flinch. The canopy overhead barely let in any light, casting eerie shadows that danced at the edges of your vision. The memory of Finnick’s last words before you were separated echoed in your mind. “Stay safe. I’ll find you.” You clung to that promise, hoping it would guide him to you.

Suddenly, you broke through to a clearing and found yourself face to face with Johanna Mason. Her eyes were sharp, and she held her axe with a confidence that was both reassuring and intimidating. She regarded you with a mix of annoyance and concern.

“You look like hell,” Johanna remarked, her voice rough but not unkind. “Come on, we need to keep moving.”

You nodded, too exhausted to argue. Johanna was fierce and abrasive, but she was a survivor. And right now, you needed that strength. As you followed her, you couldn’t shake the unease that gnawed at you. The arena was a living entity, constantly shifting and presenting new horrors.

It wasn’t long before you understood why Johanna was so insistent on moving quickly. The sky began to darken unnaturally, and the oppressive humidity seemed to thicken. A distant rumble filled the air, growing louder with each passing second. Then, without warning, the heavens opened, and blood began to rain down.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. The sight of the crimson rain was horrifying, an assault on your senses. You could feel it soaking through your clothes, its metallic scent overwhelming. Panic clawed at your mind as you tried to move, but your legs felt like lead.

Johanna grabbed your arm, pulling you forward. “Keep moving! We need to get out of this!”

But it was too much. The blood was everywhere, and your vision began to blur. You stumbled, your strength ebbing away. The world around you seemed to warp and spin, and you could barely hear Johanna’s shouts over the roaring in your ears.

Your knees buckled, and you collapsed to the ground. The last thing you saw before darkness claimed you was the red-stained leaves above, swaying in the tainted rain.

---

When you woke, the first thing you noticed was the sound of waves crashing against the shore. The air was cooler, and the oppressive weight of the jungle had lifted. You blinked, trying to clear the fog from your mind. You were on the beach, the golden sand a stark contrast to the nightmare you had just endured.

Then you saw him. Finnick was there, kneeling beside you, his expression a mixture of relief and worry. He looked haggard, his usual effortless charm marred by exhaustion and fear. But he was alive. And he was here.

“Finnick,” you croaked, your voice weak.

His eyes met yours, and a smile broke through his weariness. “You’re awake.”

Without thinking, you pushed yourself up and launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him with all the strength you could muster. He caught you, holding you close, his grip strong and reassuring. Tears streamed down your face as you buried your head in his shoulder.

“I thought I lost you,” you whispered, your voice choked with emotion.

Finnick’s arms tightened around you. “I promised I’d find you,” he said softly. “I always will.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your heart swelling with gratitude and love. In that moment, the horrors of the arena seemed distant. All that mattered was that you were together again, and as long as you had each other, there was hope.

As the sun began to set over the horizon, casting a warm glow over the beach, you allowed yourself a moment of peace. The battle was far from over, but with Finnick by your side, you felt ready to face whatever came next.

Requests are open!!!!!!

Platonic!Crassus Snow, Dark!Crassus Snow, Newborn!Daughter!Reader

Based on this ask.

General Crassus Snow was a cold, stern, strict, no nonsense military man. He made a career out of the military, just like his father and his father before him. His younger brother also chose the military path.

Cadmus had married right after graduating the Academy, had a baby, and then signed up for the Peacekeepers only to be stationed in 12, where the Snow family patriarch Commander Xanthos Snow oversaw the Peacekeepers of the coalmine district. One of Crassus' best friends, Javani Halvir, was serving as an officer in 12 underneath the command of Xanthos Snow- so of course he agreed to keep an eye out on his friend's younger brother while said friend attended the University to study Military Strategies.

Once Crassus had graduated University with a degree in Military Strategies (thanks to stealing his friend Casca Highbottom’s paper of drunken and horrendous ideas for a punishment so dire for one's enemies that those enemies would never rise up against then again) he enlisted into the Peacekeepers as an officer, did a couple months of officer's training, and was sent to PK Base-D12 to serve under his father; alongside his brother and his buddy.

In time Xanthos retired and went back to his Corso penthouse in the Capitol, causing Crassus to become the new Commander. And while visiting his family during leave he had a very fast courtship with a young woman that he was introduced to by his former friend Casca before he joined the military. And of course, that courtship resulted in a marriage and the birth of an heir.

A male heir named Coriolanus.

Shortly after Coriolanus' birth Xanthos Snow died. Sadly, Crassus was unable to get time off to attend the funeral, but he sent his buddy Colonel Javani Halvir and his family in his stead.

Crassus ran the Peacekeepers in District 12 for 5 years until the districts rebelled and war broke out. A war that he was forced to fight in. But he had studied Military Strategies just for the occasion such as a war. A general must be prepared and ready.

The rebels bombed the Capitol, hoping to weaken the city. Sadly, that air strike resulted in Demeter Snow, the young, beautiful, vapid wife of Crassus to go into unexpected and premature labor. With no help, since a doctor was unable to make it due to the bombs, the family cook and Grandma’am (Crassus' mother) had to help her deliver the baby.

Despite being weeks early and small, the baby survived her birth. Tragically, Demeter didn't. She hemorrhaged and died.

Her death shook up the entire Snow family. Grandma'am had already lost one daughter-in-law and now she lost another. And poor Coriolanus lost his mother while Trigris Snow lost her Auntie, who was like a mother to her.

Grandma'am knew she had to call up her son and tell him the news. News she knew would upset him, considering he had just lost his younger brother weeks earlier in a small skirmish against the rebels near the mines. Cadmus was there, along with a few other men, to ensure rebels wouldn't uprise and take over the mine. But sadly the rebels attacked and slaughtered the handful of peacekeepers tasked with safeguarding the mine.

After receiving the call from his mother, Crassus put his Colonel in charge and took an emergency leave to Capitol City, Panem to attend his wife's funeral and check up on his only living family.

“Crassus, come see your daughter.” Grandma'am told her son after treating him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek once he entered the penthouse.

Crassus wasn't too happy about having a second child. He already had his heir so he didn't see the news for another child.

And especially a girl.

Daughter's weren't as valuable as sons in society, so in his mind the newborn baby was useless. A beast of burden even.

“I don't need to see her, mother.” Crassus coldly bite out while making his way to his study.He was in town for the funeral and had to make quick arrangements for it so we he knew his mother hadn't done that yet.

All Grandma'am did was have the coroner take Demeter's lifeless body to the funeral home, but didn't set the funeral arrangements in motion. She told the mortician that her son would handle it when he got to town.

His mother's lucky that he was able to entrust the base and the troops in Javani's hands otherwise she'd be planning a funeral or enlisting the help of the neighbor Pluribus to do it.

“You need to see your daughter that Demeter died giving you before you make calls and arrangements for her.” Grandma'am lectured her son in a firm motherly way while following right behind him as he strolled down the hall towards his personal office.

“That baby's not going anywhere, she'll still be in her crib when I'm done.”

“Crassus, Demeter would want you to see that precious baby girl of yours before calling the funeral parlor on her account.”

“Mother…” Crassus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to ward off his growing frustrations. He couldn't tell his mother that he didn't care about his newborn daughter, not so soon after his wife's death; it would just send her into a tailspin.

Coming up to her son's side and giving him a motherly smack on his arm, the old woman dressed in her fineries seriously told her son, “Crassus Xanthos Snow, you're going into the nursery and you're going to hold your daughter even if I have to drag you by the ear to do it.”

“Mother, you're too short to be dragging me by the ears.” Crassus dryly chuckles. But he knows his mother's not amused by the way she cuts her eyes at him. At any minute she'll start lecturing him, which is something he wants to avoid. So, with a heavy sigh, the general relents. “Fine, let's go to the nursery.”

Grandma'am opened the door to the nursery, which was also her granddaughter Tigris' room. The young girl offered to share her room with her newborn baby cousin once the topic of where the crib should be placed came up. The kind hearted girl was so selfish in doing that.

Crassus walked by his mother and into the room, only for Grandma'am to join him. He spotted the crib in the corner right away. In fact, it was the same old wooden crib that was used for his son Coriolanus- hell for him and his late younger brother too.

The side of the room the mahogany crib was at had a couple of floral pictures hanging on the wall for a girlie decor. On the other side of the room was his niece's twin bed, her desk, her notebook, and various fashion doodles displayed on the wall.

Oh, how the decor in the room seemed to be split right down the middle, just like a rock.

“Crassus, come.” His mother told him, linking her arm in his and dragging him over to the sleeping newborn.

Crassus looked down at his newborn daughter and immediately realized that she was too small due to coming early. That his daughter would need to put weight on and fast if were to survive the winter. He didn't say a word, just bent down to pick up his daughter.

He honestly didn't want to hold her, but did because his mother was at his side and he didn't want to hear her lecture him.

Crassus cradled his newborn in his arms, only for the baby to blink open her eyes and look up at him.

Crassus was melted by the innocent look on his daughters eyes.

In your eyes.

Yes, you're the daughter of the ruthless, cold hearted, stern, and hateful General Crassus Snow. A man that locked his heart behind a frozen wall of ice. One that a single look from you melted.

The innocence in your eyes reminded him of a girl he once loved. And he vowed to be a good father to you.

But he didn't vow to be a good father to your older brother, Coriolanus. In fact, Crassus felt that his son was a weakling that needed to toughen up. But in your case, Crassus wanted to protect you from the world because all the world’s an arena and not everyone in it has good intentions.

Crassus never thought he wanted a second child let alone a daughter, but just one look from you and your father was vowing to protect you with his life.

Y/N Snow, the second child of Crassus and Demeter Snow; the darling miracle baby that brings joy amongst the ruins of death.

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 @lady-harvey @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

‼️🚨HUNGER GAMES OC DROPPED🚨‼️

Meet Belladonna, my Hunger Games OC! She’s the victor of the 55th Hunger Games. Pre-games, she’s a bit of a prima donna, with a very sheltered view of the world thanks to Panem propaganda. Post-games… it’s a bit more complicated. 🪻

I’ve been working on her story for a couple of months now ( ever since I saw The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes) and I’m still working on it atm. But I couldn’t wait any longer to share her with the world! 💜

First pic: Bella post-games

Second pic: expressions + mini intro

Third pic: clothing references

Fourth pic: Bella’s family

Meet the OC: Cora Fauntleroy!💚

Cora is Bella’s roommate (😉) and best friend. The two grew close in their first year at the Institute, and have been inseparable ever since. The two bonded over their strained relationships with their families.

Meet our escort and stylist, Cassius Opulent and Satine Labelle! 💙🤍

Cassius is the worst, ngl. He’s a privileged jerk who only cares about luxury. Basically the evil version of Effie. He and Belladonna do BOT get along: Bella thinks he’s a pompous prick and Cassius thinks she’s district trash.

Satine comes off as a hardass, but she actually has a soft side deep down. She developed her cold persona as a coping mechanism after seeing so many kids die in the games. She tried to subtly help her tributes though. For example, she cut Belladonna’s hair to make it harder to grab. After Bella wins, Satine becomes a mother figure to protect Bella in the Capitol.

-Finnick Odair x reader

{Quiet moments between you and Finnick when you can’t sleep}

I hope you enjoy my lovelies! 💕

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Winter was in full force, with harsh winds that nipped at your skin. Not even the fireplace could fend off, let alone the fluffy covers that you’ve layered upon your shared bed. Perhaps it was the cold chill in the air that prevented sleep from capturing you, or maybe it was something else entirely… you decide to not let your mind wander to what that could possibly be.

You sit up wrapping your cotton shawl around your shoulders tightly as your eyes scan across your room, dimly lit by the small sliver of moonlight that peaks behind the curtains and stretches across the floor trailing along the wall.

Finnick doesn’t stir with your movement which means he must be exhausted because he’s often a light sleeper, although you’re not surprised with the busy day he’s had. You smile softly down at him, the way his cheek is smushed against the soft pillow. You gently push his hair away from his closed eyes as you admire him, you’re glad he’s found comfort beside you.

The thought crosses your mind to wake him up, he’s always told you that if you can’t sleep to wake him up, he wouldn’t mind. But looking at him now, you just can’t bring yourself to do it, you’d feel far too guilty.

Instead, you decide to make your way to the kitchen, but not before putting on a pair of thick socks, after all, the tiled floor always felt much colder in the dead of night. Perhaps a warm drink would help lull you to sleep? You think to yourself as you fill the kettle.

You cringe slightly as the water begins to boil, squeezing your eyes shut at the sudden loud noise. Finnick had brought all types of different teas with the hope that one of them might help you get a good night's rest, he’d do anything if it meant you were happy.

You remember when he brought them home, two whole bags full of boxes with different kinds of ‘sleep treatments’ it brought tears to your eyes.

Finnick was always sweet to you, it shows in the way he looks at you, the way he holds you, and the sweet nothings he whispers to you whenever you feel down. You start to miss him, even though he’s only in your shared bedroom, the room next to the kitchen, fast asleep.

You pour the hot water into the small ceramic mug, the same one Peeta had gifted you as a congratulations for your engagement, he had hand painted them, beautiful flowers that swirl around the cup.

Soon enough the sweet smell of the tea reaches you, soothing the restless feeling that builds up within your chest. You take a small sip of the warm beverage as Finnick wanders through the kitchen, eyes heavy with sleep.

“It’s freezing out here honey” his voice is rough despite the softness of his tone, exhaustion hangs on his every word. he shuffles closer to you, bringing his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as if he’s trying to protect you from the chill that lingers within the air.

A sigh falls from your lips when he presses a kiss to your forehead, his hands soothing against your back as you rest against him. Even in the safety of his arms the guilt still bubbles up within you, “Did I wake you up?” You ask, pushing your face against his shoulder.

“No, was already awake” he’s lying but you decide not to fight him on it, far too distracted by the warmth of his hands as they slip underneath your shirt, fingers splaying across your lower back. “Can’t sleep without you anyway” he says, pulling back to get a better look at you, the truth of his words are shown through his eyes.

“M’sorry” you mumble into the soft fabric of his shirt, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me” The words come out much heavier than you’d like and it strikes a cord within Finnick, one that pinches his heart.

He tuts softly as he leans back slightly, holding your chin with his finger and thumb. “Hey,” he whispers, tilting your head to look at him. His eyes immediately soften as yours find his, “Don’t apologise, honey, it’s what I’m here for, yeah?” He smiles, seeming more awake than he was just mere minutes ago.

“I know, I just- I don’t want to be too much” The words feel silly as they escape your lips but your chest feels lighter for it. You know deep down you shouldn’t feel like this, Finnick has never made you feel anything but loved.

“Too much?” He repeats after you as if you had just said something that had completely baffled him, and it did. “There’s no such thing, sweetness,” he tells you, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I love you- so much” he whispers against your lips before kissing you, not letting your mind wander elsewhere for even a second.

“I love you too Finn” you exhale, eyes closing as he rests his forehead against your own, your noses bumping against each others slightly.

“Come on, it’s warmer in bed,” he says, unwrapping his arms from around you as he picks up the tea you had made, “I got this, you go get into bed honey” he smiles and you know better than to fight him on it, so you do as he says, climbing back into the cosy bed with Finnick following shortly behind you.

He hands you the warm beverage before joining you, his hand slipping into your own as you take small sips of your drink. He talks about the market, how they're starting to sell that one specific seasonal bread you like, and he even begins to make plans for the weekend with you. his voice clams your nerves, it brings peace.

"Thank you, Finnick" you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder as he pulls the blankets over your legs.

He brings your hand up to his lips, pressing soft kisses to your knuckles, “Always for you” he says, voice heavy with sleep once again. You set your mug on the bedside table before turning back to him, and for the first time tonight, you start to feel yourself drift off as you lay in his arms.

Finnick could admire you forever without wanting anything, study every ‘imperfection’ and fall even more in love with you. He would pour his heart out to you right now if he wasn’t so tired so instead he settles for a simple, “G’night beautiful” with love dripping from his tone, and soon enough you both find sleep.

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-Peeta Mellark x reader

{You and Peeta bake… more or less}

It’s short and sweet, Enjoy my lovelies! 💕

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The sun was beginning to set, its warm orangey light stretches over the horizon and filters through the kitchen window, peaking through the curtains as Peeta works the dough under his palms. You were meant to be helping, but instead, you stood admiring him as he works under the warm evening sun, the light dusting against his skin.

Peeta can feel your eyes on him, and he smiles to himself turning to you. “Are you gonna help me, or just keep ogling at me?” He chuckles as he continues to knead the dough under his palms.

You scoff shaking your head as you snap out of your trance. “I was not ogling… I was admiring there’s a huge difference” you tell him, flicking some of the flour up at him as he tries to dodge it. You reach over to pick up another pinch of flour but his hip nudges against yours, pushing you away gently as you giggle.

“Hey… there are rules to the kitchen you know?” He says, looking over at you as his blond hair falls just above his eye, you reach over to push his soft locks away and he gives you an appreciative smile.

You frown softly, deciding to humour him. “Oh yeah, and what are the rules?” You ask, watching him as he washes his hand before turning back to you.

“Well for one… no ogling at the baker and secondly no throwing ingredients” he smirks as you roll your eyes shaking your head softly, he picks the dough up carefully placing it in the bread pan.

There’s a comforting atmosphere that blankets over the pair of you, it’s in the smell of the freshly baked bread and the way Peeta looks at you. It’s everywhere hidden within the walls of the house and stored in the pictures that are displayed.

You stand beside Peeta as he washes up the dishes while you dry them. “Could you get that baby?” He asks softly, his hands still scrubbing the bowls as he nods down to his sleeve that has fallen down to his forearm, you reach over to pull it back up to his elbow and he whispers a small ‘thank you’

The pair of you finish up with the dishes, waiting for the bread to finish cooking. The pair of you sit on the sofa. Your head rests against his shoulder as you lean into his warm touch. His hand slips into yours, and his thumb caresses your palm gently. It’s hard to fight the sleep that creeps upon you, especially since he’s warm and gentle, everything about him soothes you.

“Don’t fall asleep angel” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he feels your body lean further into him. His hand soothes against your arm, trying to keep you awake, but it has the complete opposite effect.

“M’not… I’m wide awake” you mumble, sleep lacing through your tone and Peeta can’t help but chuckle. Before he can respond the timer is ringing from the kitchen, and the smell of bread travels through the house.

Peeta stands up, stretching slightly before looking back at you. “Stay awake for me baby” he says as you sit up giving him an unconvincing nod before he disappears into the kitchen.

It doesn’t take long for him to come back with a plate of warm golden bread. He places it on the coffee table, breaking a piece off before handing it to you, with a hopeful look that flashes through his eyes as he watches you take a bite.

“It’s perfect… as always” you smile, reaching over to take another piece of the sweet-tasting bread.

“You know there’s another rule to the kitchen,” Peeta says, sitting down next to you on the sofa with a knowing look.

There’s a soft smirk that adorns your lips as you turn to him, raising your eyebrows slightly. “Mhm… and what’s that?” you ask.

“You gotta pay the baker” he smiles and you roll your eyes, shaking your head softly as you whisper. “Right of course how could I forget” leaning to press a gentle kiss to his lips, his hand resting against your cheek as his fingertips graze along your jaw.

You can’t help but smile against his lips, breaking the kiss as he pulls away with a soft look in his eyes… as if you were everything he ever needed and truth be told you were.

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The Hunger Games Masterlist

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Finnick Odair-

Sleepless

Finnick says those three special words

Sweet giggle

Reuniting with Finnick

Peeta Mellark-

Baking

Katniss Everdeen-

Returning home

-Finnick Odair x reader

{Finnick says those three special words}

He’s so boyfriend! 💕 enjoy my lovelies

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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-Finnick Odair x Victor!reader

{Finnick strives to make you laugh for the first time since you’ve won your games}

Enjoy my lovelies💕

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Words were a hard thing to get out of you recently, you were so closed off… skittish, almost as if you were afraid of your own voice. Finnick couldn’t blame you in fact there’s not a bone in his body that could ever be mad at your recent behaviour, he understood better than most people.

He watches you with a soft expression as you sit at the kitchen table, losing yourself in a new puzzle. He admires the calm look in your eyes and the way you shift the pieces into the correct places with gentle hands whilst he prepares dinner, his eyes flicking over to you every now and then to keep a close eye on you.

The faint sound of rain pattering against the windows only seems to add to the tranquillity of the evening. Then the silence breaks, and your voice softly reaches his ears, “I’m stumped.” It shocks him a little, it’s evident in the way his eyes widened slightly.

“Stumped?… lemme take a look, honey.” He replies back to you, keeping his voice hushed as he walks over to you resting his palms against the wooden table to lean over you. His gaze flickering over the puzzle, studying the pieces with narrowed, concentrated eyes.

It takes only a second for him to pick the piece you’re looking for, gently snapping it into place with a smirk on his lips. “Oh… thank you.” You whisper softly, looking up at him with a small smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. He leans down to press a kiss on your forehead.

There’s a certain patience in Finnick, never condescending in the way he speaks or looks at you. If anything he’s the glue that holds you together, constantly there to anchor you back to reality whenever your mind drifts further than you can reach.

The memories were the worst part, you seemed to have a difficult time remembering what was real and what was fake… which caused you to forget a lot. Those special moments you shared with Finnick before the games are now tainted with a stain you couldn’t clear off.

Although there are moments where it flickers back slightly like embers of a fire that leaves a tingling warmth across your skin. The smallest things set it off, music for example. Soft notes of a familiar tune echo through the kitchen, there’s a sense of safety within the lyrics.

Finnick knows you remember the song and the moment you shared with him. It’s in the way your eyes glisten with fondness and that ever-so-small smile that begins to crack at the corner of your lips.

The pair of you glance at each other simultaneously as the gentle notes ricochet through the room. Finnick smirks over at you, extending his hand to you with a soft nod of his head. He waits for you to take him up on the opportunity, never forcing your hand.

He watches patiently as the hesitation flickers through your expression and relief washes over his expression as you stand up from the chair, your hand slipping into his slightly rough one.

“Do you remember this song?” He asks with a teasing edge to his tone although his expression soon melts with tenderness as you nod your head shyly and he takes this moment to place his hand against your hip.

Finnick brings you into him before gently swaying you both side from side. “I could never forget.” You whisper back to him and your words only fuel him to hold you closer.

Your shoulders relax and a sigh escapes your lips as you rest your head against Finnicks chest, the scent of sea salt and firewood sits against his skin and lingers within his clothes. It’s homely… warm within his arms, nothing can hurt you and those painful memories of the games take a backseat in your muddled-up mind.

The pair of you continue to sway gently, taking it one note at a time as you let the music carry you both. You feel Finnick’s chest vibrate slightly as he lets out a soft chuckle and before you can even ask why you’re suddenly being spun around, your breath catches in your throat as he pulls you back into him.

His hands fall to your hips and then he hears it, the sweet giggle that you let out and he freezes in place. It’s a sound that sends a familiar warmth blooming within his chest. “I love you.” He whispers, his hands caressing your hips and then up to your waist.

Your smile widens slightly at his words and you can’t help but wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him to you closely as he starts to press kisses all over your face. “I love you too.” You giggle in between the ticklish kisses.

The sight makes his heart swell with devotion. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen you like this, so at peace and so happy, he makes a silent promise to keep it this way for as long as he possibly can.