what a privilege it is to have these problems
in which finnick odair loses a fight with a plug-in fan
finnick odair x fem!victor!reader
category: flangst, post mockingjay
warnings: not really much, just a bit of sadness and anxiety from reader, cursing
note: feel free to send me a request !! (as I've said like eight times. im sorry. I am trying to make it clear) finnick has a dog as he should
word count: 0.9k
tick. tick. tick.
finnick was currently questioning the morals of destroying his and your entire home because of this noise.
the soft hum of the fan has always been present when he slept, and he doesnt really get good sleep without it. but this noise is different. maybe a picture frame bumping into the wall, maybe his dog is suddenly very interested in the idea of repeatedly clawing the wall. what ever it is, finnick would rather walk on lava than deal with it the whole night.
but you're sleeping, curled up on his side so angelically. its a miracle you're sleeping and he's not—its almost always the other way around. you'll stay up and watch him sleep after he has a nightmare almost every single night.
you always say you had it easy as a victor; the capitol saw you as an innocent little girl that made it out of the games by the grace of god, who was crushing on the capitol darling, finnick odair, like everyone else. but they've always been more than that. they've always been something real, something the capitol didnt make up.
he was so distracted by his beautiful girl he almost forgot about the noise.
almost. the stupid clicking still rang in his ears, making him want to commit a severe act of violence.
okay. he has to fix it. he, a little shakily because he just does not want to awake this perfect sleeping angel, removes your limbs from his body, slipping out of bed and coming face to face with his dog, (who of course was sleeping on the bed, you always insisted) who tilts her head at finnick. he would probably laugh and tell her 'yeah, i don't want to be awake either, girl, or something along the lines, but he would wake you. he just quietly listens for the noise.
silence. more silence.... tick. tick.
finnicks head snapped to the left, and is sure he finds the verdict: a framed photo of his girl holding katniss and peeta's first child with an innocent whimsy and excitement on your face that finnick was so certain he lost the moment his name was first called in the reaping. its moving with the circulation of the fan, he's sure of it. he puts the frame on the nightstand with an internal ill figure it out tomorrow, and retreats back into your shared bed.
and then the fucking noise comes back. conveniently right after you rewrap yourself over him like he's your personal body pillow.
he's well aware he's balancing your unconsciousness like a tight-rope.
once again escaping the living confines of your hold, he discovers the real culprit: the plug-in fan. he thought, maybe, it was the ceiling fan, (you liked to sleep with two fans on at the same time. it simultaneously horrified finnick and made him fall in love with you even more) but he sees a string stuck in the fan that has been singing up a storm for him. easy fix. a quiet fix.
well, it would have been a quiet fix, but he immediately knocks over the fan, creating a peace shattering sound, followed by the absence of the fans whirling that you so desperately need to sleep.
god just hates him tonight, huh?
his dog barks at the sound, and looking up at the bed, he can see you inelegantly slap his side of the bed, instinctually searching the safety blanket known as finnick odair.
you didnt find him.
shooting up like a meerkat, your eyes scan the room for finnick, ready to soar out of bed, before a voice breaks you out of your panic.
"im right here, angel. the fan was making a noise... sorry."
"d'you break the fan?" you murmured, rubbing your sleep-coated eyes. he didn't even turn any lights on, how in gods name can he even see anything? your hands anxiously tense and untense on the bed
he laughs, setting the fan back up and plugging it in, "no, just knocked it over. fixed the sound though."
you nod even though he isn't looking, the anxiety from his absence still surging through your body.
"finnick?"
"mhm?"
"come here, please."
so, of course, he does. he stands at the edge of the bed where you reside, waiting for you to say something more.
your still shaky hand grabs his, holding it to your face.
"you freaked me out. i didn't know where you were."
now he feels like the most evil person in the entire world. "i'm sorry, honey. you were so tired today, i didn't want to wake you.."
your hand tightens on his, frowning with big, wet eyes.
"its okay. you scared me really bad."
he immediately frowned, getting back in bed and holding the back of your head gently, bringing you back to him. your head rests on the side of his chest as you always do, his hand rubbing down to your back.
"oh, baby, im sorry. we've been through too much. i should've woken you up."
you hum, hands gripping onto his shirt faintly. "we've just had days where i wake up and you really are gone."
whether it be a client that he was to take, or your time in the capitol during the rebellion, you've woken up screaming and didn't have him to wash the nightmares away.
finnick holds you like you're glass, and rests his head on the top of yours. "yeah, we have. but we never will again, yeah? nothings getting in our way."
ugh. that capitol darling charm wasn't all conjured. he always could say the sweetest things. you smiled against his chest, and nodded.
"goodnight. i love you."
"i love you too."
the ticking stopped.
hii i guess this is a part two to my first fic but they can exist apart from each other so woo!! also soosososo happy with the positive reception on my first fic i was very nervous!! also omg writing finnick fics is making me SO tired of the blue theme i have to write for someone else
