#finnicksworld!

note from author: all works are 18+ ; ☽ indicates explicit sexual content ; home

includes ... CORIOLANUS SNOW; SEJANUS PLINTH; FINNICK ODAIR

maybe him even building a lego set like in that one picture of sam clafflin if yk what im talking abt

this one trust i know

young dad!finnick absolutely adores christmas. as soon as december rolls around, he's coming into the house with a christmas tree strung up and in tow, a big grin on his face as he politely orders you to grab the christmas records and put music on. he decorates. heavily. and his son — your son — does it with him. little fists reinforced with bigger ones on either side hanging up tinsel and handmade ornaments and mistletoe beneath the door frames. and you bet that anytime you are coincidentally under it with either of them, finnick is enforcing the stereotypes and encouraging you to pucker up.

then christmas day comes around and he's never been happier.

he wants your son to believe in santa claus. it's something he needs to happen. solely so he can grab fresh milk from the town market and bake cookies with a recipe sent in the mail by peeta a month ago. your son helps, except he mostly begs to eat the dough and ends up with flour adorably dusting his cheeks and throughout his hair. finnick, slightly less adorably but only because it was of his own purposeful doing, ends up the same, flour scattered through the grown in beard along his jaw.

your son is eventually tucked in for the night, the clock rolls past midnight and into the early hours of the morning, and finnick is gently waking you. his voice is soft, but the excitement is still clear within his words.

"it's 4, baby. gonna go put the presents under the tree." there's a silent ask of if you'll be joining or not, and even though your dream was entering the comforting stages (the three of you on the beach like you usually are, but there's a prominent bump under your sweater this time), you roll out of bed and quietly make your way into the living room.

finnick meticulously arranges the gifts while you sit on the couch and make your way through the milk and cookies, which does nothing to help the sleep tugging at your mind. by the time finnick has decided on an arrangement that he's satisfied with, you've dozed off with half of a cookie in your hand. you awake once more to finnick, him taking the cookie out of your hand and taking a bite for himself, leaving the last quarter on the plate before he picks you up and carries you to bed.

and opening gifts is his absolute favorite part. there are the ones from the two of you, your neighbors in victors village, your families (an especially sweet knitted set from mags for your son, and a quilted blanket for you and finnick), and then comes the ones from santa. finnick sits and watches happily, sometimes even recording with the old camera the two of you have.

his happiness is infectious. you can't help but cuddle into his side, pressing your face to his bare chest as you slink your arm around his waist.

finnick who takes the first bit of your cock and all of his smart mouthed comments die with the slice of a thick groan. it's addicting, it inflates your ego, and you suddenly understand why finnick is so prideful.

because he gets to see you like this more times than you can count. hands clawing the sheets, back arching, eyes glazed over before they disappear behind heavy eyelids. he gets to see you fucked out, with messy hair like finnick's, blond tresses all over the white pillow case. he gets to watch you wipe away your drool like you watch finnick, the pooling of saliva caused by you wrapping your hand around his cock.

having finnick fuck your face like you're just a doll. not a living being who needed to breath in order to survive.

his hand is securely situated on your head, keeping your mouth pried open around his cock, ignoring the way your throat bobs and you disgustingly gag around him. your nose is situated in his pubes, giving you a whiff of the scent combinations that make up him (a hint of salt water and a lot of skin musk). this intrusion may be pleasurable uncomfortable, but the rest is pure comfort, your head cushioned by a pillow, your back molded into the mattress. your hands even rest along finnicks thighs, nails digging in to the toned muscle every so often when you need grounding.

finnick looks down on you like he's proud of it all, a small smile on his rosy lips. "there you go. you can take it, honey." his praises are the same, the familiar sweet tone woven into his words. it makes the situation all the better. it makes you close your eyes and breathe through your nose and take him like he's telling you to.

finnick tuts, removing his hand from your head to squeeze your cheeks. your eyes instantly open, knowing exactly what you've done wrong, and thankfully, finnick praises you for it. he pulls his cock out, gravitating a little down your chest with the movement, the tip of his cock running along the center of your breasts.

he leans down to deliver you an appreciative kiss.

you're fucking ruined, spit all over your lips and jaw, a little string even planting itself on your cheek. but finnick couldn't care less. he kisses you without minding the mess of it all, even adding to it with the way his saliva molds with yours.

it’s also making me think of that gifting pearls drabble u did and joking one day that one day his partner says that he should go “deep sea pearl diving” (between their legs) and that cheeky (munch of a) boy would soo use that line as a inside joke double entendre whenever he wants to get a rise out of his partner or give a hint

there was a time where this song was banned around me it would always put me through the ringer up until i wrote a steve harrington fic based on it and i also love this sm

there was one day, just a singular hour even, where you were sleepy and giggly and slightly delirious. but your sleep haze was repurposed into a sexual haze, your legs spread with your knees digging into finnick's side as you kissed him, slow and lazy and sloppy. finnick had pulled back, pressing two little kisses into the corner of your mouth before he asked you, "what do you want from me, sweetheart? think you'll be able to stay awake?"

you nodded eagerly, preparing to ask finnick to go down on you in the same way you usually did. but then, something in your sleep ridded brain clicked and then you're giggling.

"what is it?" finnick asked at the time, his own giggles leaving his lips, too, despite not knowing what he was giggling at.

"can you ..." another fit of giggles. "can you do deep sea pearl diving, finn?"

he took a second, he looked at you head on, confusion clear on his face. and then it made sense and finnick was rolling his eyes as he shuffled lower down your body, grumbling something about your corniness.

but it's purely him who uses it as a sly joke later on when you're outside of the bedroom.

when you're in your backyard, floating in the sea with finnick not far from you. it's a still day, perfect for frolicking around in the warm water. the lack of waves makes it easy for you to hear finnick's voice.

"sweetheart?" you hum, staring at him instead of at the horizon afar. "you know what i could go for?"

"yeah?"

a beat. "deep sea pearl diving."

and you'll never really know which one he meant because you're swimming back to the shoreline and dramatically stomping back in the house, finnick yelling apologies for bringing up your slightly embarrassing moment in such a serene setting like this.

i say this a lot but it truly depends on the situation.

just in general, finnick likes to take some time to let the attitude melt off of him. he doesn’t want to be too angry and say something just to prove a point which would in turn hurt you. he walks away from the argument to let you calm down and to calm himself down. but he refuses to let the tense vibe permeate the house for more than an hour. after that, he’s sitting you down (or cornering you, whatever he has to do) and talking it out.

if it’s an argument about something personal, maybe a pet peeve of his that you just can’t help or let go, his apologies are practically instant. any argument that could potentially upset you personally, he needs to rectify those. he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he had any negative impact on your self image.

he loves to gift you pearls. there’s a couple of years where it’s as if he’s lucky, following the winning of his games. each time he goes to the beach, he stumbles upon an oyster with a pearl in it. he always gifts it to you with sandy hands and a dimpled smile. you continued to weave each pearl into a never ending string. at first, it was just a few pearls that you would securely tie into your hair for special occasions. then, it was long enough to make a bracelet. then a necklace. it sat nearly on your desk for years, until you and finnick became lovers instead of only friends and you felt inclined to wear it more, always taking it off at night or before showering because it’s you’re most prized possession. finnick always tells you that he could find you more, but you shake your head and insist that it’s not the same.

he also has a particular affection for seashells. pretty blue ones that remind him of the sea. grey ones that remind him of the sky during a storm. he likes to gift you a conch if he finds it, prompting you to put your ear to it each time. anytime he’s away from you, even just in the shower and you miss him, he reminds you to put your ear to the shell and think of him just before he leaves. sometimes it’s a joke, “don’t miss me too much and if you do, there’s a shell by the bed”, spoken when he walks out of the room to shut the remainder of the house lights off for the night. or maybe if he has a capitol visit to make, he means it, pressing his lips to your forehead securely.