Finnick Odair X Reader - Tumblr Posts

ONE FOR THE ROAD !

pairing; mentor!finnick x victor!reader

summary; you’ve been finnicks since the moment you met, after your interviews you break- who can fix you better than him?

contains; ANGST/FLUFF, two idiots in love, typical thg themes- i’m sure by now you know what i mean ;(

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finnick watched you from behind the curtains of the stage, somewhere in a hallway with your face on the screen infront of you. watching you with your hand over your heart as you gushed about your faux-greatfulness to the capitol.

he watched your face drop as all of your kills were flashed onto the large screen, he watched the squint in your eyes, the way your brows furrowed, the way your jaw clenched. he pleaded now to you, through his mind- bury the hatchet sweet girl, don’t fall apart, you’ve made it this far.

his fingers were crossed his foot tapping anxiously until the milisecond your interview concluded.

your stylists crowded around the hallway, waiting to applaud you on how good you were- but finnick knew you better than anyone, he kept his distance.

your presence came with fury, tearing off your ridiculous headpiece- it falling to the ground in pieces with seconds. each step you took seemed to get angrier. your stylists behind you with a hand on their chest. something their dull minds couldn’t understand, how could she be so angry when it’s over with?

when you turned the corner and he saw you, when he saw the darkness in your eyes clouding your every move. desperate to be alone, to rot away- he twisted you around and into him.

you fought against him- struggling to release yourself from his hold. finnick only pulled you closer to him, with a tighter hold. “it’s okay, you’re okay.” he hushed into your ear, your arms softened. they found a home around his neck while your head hid away in his neck.

“no,” you only shook your head. how could he lie to you when you’re like this? “it’s not, it’s not fucking fair.”

he understand, if anyone- he understands. “i’m still me, you’re still you.” he said that and he wanted to believe it, wanted it to be true. thought maybe the cards would fall into the right lineup for him- to all be in his favor, but when had they ever been?

“no im not.” you didn’t believe him, and he couldn’t believe himself- maybe the two of you could build a city of lies in your heads.

you wanted to tell him what a monster you were, how awful you were-but he had to have already known .

he’d watched you be the most deceitful creature in the game, the most twisted, two fast creature. you’re sure he knew.

“yes you are princess, i know it’s bad but you’re safe, you’re with me.” finnicks voice always had this perfect serene pitch, even when you didn’t mean to- in a world of voices it would be the only thing you could focus on.

the tears cascaded down your face, black mascara indefinetly staining his white sweater.

he would never admit this out loud, it almost ate him up inside thinking it- and he would beat himself up for it for as long as he lived, but you were not the same- you never would be. but he could love you in any way you came.

you weren’t the same girl who would collect the seashells that reminded you of him and run up to his door with a basket full of them- you would never be the same girl who’s eyes would sparkle at the smallest conversation between you, him, and mags in her living room on a summer night. the same girl who’d laugh so hard that your stomach ached and you’d slap his shoulder.

you weren’t the same girl. and he knew that the moment your knife went for your allies neck, the way you screamed when the last cannon went off.

and you’d never say it, but you thought of him. every time someone would charge at you- desperate to hear the cannon. you thought about how all you needed to do was run home into his arm and scream at him for not letting you love him sooner.

and now, now he needed to think of you. think of your loving touch- your pure heart and the sound of your overjoyed laugh when he’d hug you too tight- or catch you off guard with a joke. he needed to think about brining all this anger- this hate, this disgust and guilt out of you- for he’d rather take it all on himself than watch it eat at you.

so he would hold you close when you woke up screaming, bathe you when your body was too tired to hold itself up, whisper sweetheart nothings into your ear as he cradles you back into a deep slumber.

-

a/n; very short, just wanted to get a lil angst out for u guys ;))

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INBOX OPEN!!

PITY PARTY !

‟ and he loved her like he loved no one,

the way she’d laugh and hold a smoking gun. „

pairing;finnick x victor!f!reader

summary;finnick odair is a man of many fortunes, all he wish he didn’t posses- red, hot, and irate he lets it fool you.

contains; ANGST, self destructive-finnick&reader, insinuations of infidelity, acts of non-con, arguments, TW descriptive forced prostitution.

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it was your victory party, supposed to to be the happiest night since your games.

it was only the most stressful, the most draining. you hair was pulled up almost too tight you gained a headache, dress to tight you could suffocate. champagne flute after champagne flute, finnick had slid away from you- told you he’d be back nearly an hour ago.

you were struggling to stand, your arms were crossed over your indecent frame- chilly, without finnicks presence. without your finnick.

you went up to a familiar face, he was near your age- you think he’s friends with finnick? but how do you know what’s real in the capitol?

“have you seen where finnick went?” your head tilts to the side slightly, and by the way his breathy laugh reached your nostrils and the alcoholic scent burned your senses, you can tell he’s probably drunker than you.

the man has to steady himself from laughing so hard, you were almost concerned at his inebriated he was. “oh you sweet naive victor, he has quite the track record. where would a boy like yours possibly be at a party like this- i mean he’s not much of a boy after all he’s done.”

you’d zoned out halfway into his sentence, was finnick known for getting too tipsy? was there something you didn’t know? was the man you were speaking too so drunk he had lost his mind?

you began to slowly slip away from the man, slipping past people, looking for that soft, gentle, sweet face.

the air was getting too thick, your breath began to quicken, everything was moving in slow. your mind was begging for someone to find help for you, to find finnick.

you find your stylist, he was nice- you think. he’d done you a great fault with the comfortability of your get-up, but otherwise you’d trusted him.

“y/n!” he smiles, ecstatic to see you but a hint of concern in his features and he takes your glass of booze, placing it down on the table. his concern seemed too strong to be just for your alcohol consumption, like there was something else. something you didn’t know, or couldn’t know. “how are you?”

what the fuck?

“where’s finnick.” you’re feet hurt, your heads throbbing, your body is buzzing and you are so sick of not being apart of whatever’s going on.

now your stylist looks pitifully towards you, “oh honey, room five.”

your shoulders slump. was he okay? had he gotten a panick attack? you rush towards to intimate rooms, you weren’t sure if you could count to the number five right now but your mind assumed he’d be in the only closed room.

your worry is sickening, the chill in this mansion is sickening, the confusion of it all is purely- sickening. your hand twists the knob open, ready to see his tears in the dark- but you don’t see his eyes at all.

“yes! i love that finnick. i love you!” she’s under him, her skirt is pushed up- his eyes are screwed shut- his beautiful eyes are screwed shut.

who is this woman? her hair is curly, long, blonde, she seems tall but you can’t see much of her, she seems older. this seems wrong- almost. why is she saying she loves him? who is this woman, lying?

you don’t know how long it takes you to perceive it all, but she looks up and notices you- shrieking in exposé.

you just barely see his head shoot up, before you’ve closed the door. your back flies to the wall opposite of the door, you hear shuffling. you hear her asking him where he’s going.

you can’t breath.

it’s like you’ve taken a shot to the heart, and you’re bleeding out. your body can’t move, you want to run. you don’t want to know, you’re sure of it.

you’re not even sure you want to hear him speak, not for a long time. not until your world stops spinning.

you’ve just started to move, you’ve just started to escape. when the door flies open, your name is being called- no shouted.

but finnicks legs move faster than yours, longer, with flat shoes and hefty strides he’s grabbed your wrist in seconds and he’s spinning you around to face him.

you want to scream, no more, please. but your words are stolen from you, his face looks like he’s just walked in on the same thing you did.

he looks like he wants to speak, to say something. he looks into the corner of the hallway, at the light fixtures, the cameras, and the words are lost on his tongue.

it has felt like ever since finnick had won his games, there was a part of his soul you would never understand, and you thought that you would- and if you told him this, he would probably tell you it’s too early for you to know just yet.

his eyes fall back onto yours, and his eyes are frantic- switching back and forth between each eye. again, you’re missing something, there’s something you’re not picking up, and as much as you want to scream and run away from him- to cry- you stay.

“what the fuck is happening.” you’re trying to sober-up now, your hand finds your hair. and you’re taking steps away from him, your eyes are wide.

he hasn’t moved a muscle, finnick thinks the odds have never been worse for him. does he break you or does he seal your fate with a scarlet letter?

“what the fuck is happening!” you repeat, turning around to face him now, he looks back to the camera, and back to you. and you aren’t in the right state for this. “finnick!” you place your hands on either side of his face, you’re trying to tiptoe around this.

he takes an inhale, trying to find solace in your sweet smell- but all that fills his senses is the alcohol hot and heavy on your tongue. “your drunk, y/n.”

your hands fall from his face, this is cruel, the present is too cruel. and at that moment he’s chosen your fate, you break.

a cry leaves your mouth, your hand going over it, shaking. he feels sick now, his pupils are blown and he’s shaking, he swears his own heart has stopped.

you’re sobbing, and it’s because of him. finnick odair was a selfish monster. finnick odair was a liar, a tyrant. but he was your boy, the same man who spun you around when you wore long skirts just to hear the giggle leave your lips. the same man who didn’t sleep for days when you were reaped- moreso until you came out of that arena. the same man who gave everything he had just so you’d gain sponsors.

and you thought you could be that same girl for him, the same girl who held him when he cried the night before you left for the arena, unable to hold his composure for you any longer.

and now, you’re tears couldn’t stop, and his couldn’t either. you were too stunned to move, and he couldn’t stop muttering words that made no sense.

“lets just go home, please.” he pleads, he would get on his hands and knees. he’d die for you to stop feeling like this, he’d soak it all up just so you would stop.

“how many women?” you remember his own friends words, he has quite the track record- not much of a boy after all he’s done.

and his eyes screw shut once more, a look he often wears when he wants something to be over with, and quick. and you can recognize that from the scene that will forever be etched into your mind.

and he sees you, piece it together in your mind- he sees it all line up for you. he sees the red hot fury behind your lashes, he then sees it turn into an unwary look.

“who’s making you do this?”

he shakes his head, his hand running over his wet face. “stop, now.” there are ears everywhere, even when you’re the loneliest in panem, you are never the only person there.

and his heart races at the thought of how your concern for the good in him will push to your demise, how if you say the words you were never supposed to know, he may never see you again.

and when you go to speak, he slaps a hand over your mouth, he’s rough, he’s not himself. he turns you around- pushing you away from him as he rushes out the emergency exit.

you chase after him, and somehow he’s still faster than you. there’s fresh tears in his cheeks it the cold air, he thinks they’ll freeze. you’re screaming after him, he thinks it’s nothing more than a bad dream.

he wished he wasn’t there, like he was in the backseat as his body moved farther and farther away from you. a second hand perspective on himself and he didn’t know who he was.

and once more, finnick odair was a plague. a wrath awakening in every bridge he burned.

-

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inbox open! taking reqs!

WINNERS PRIZE !

one

pairing; mentor!finnick x victor!reader

summary; tough love turns to rough luck, mentor!finnick cant help but worship you, and victor!reader can’t wait to have him.

contains; SMUT! mdni. minor choking kink idk, oral, f!recieving, penetration, dom!finnick, sub!reader, lmk if i missed anything.

you kiss him, pull him impossibly close to you until you can’t anymore- until your lungs now beg for oxygen- but all you want to do is breath him in. you pull away, and your eyes open, nearly in shock, but more in amusement.

“believe me now?”

it’s the way he purrs if, the way it’s echoing through your ears. it makes it so you can’t answer, you’re not sure you can even think. all you want is the feeling of his lips on yours again- but what you want is wrong.

your aching for him, and where it is, is wrong. so wrong, you shouldn’t have even kissed your mentor- you should feel dirty, ashamed. and he notices your shock. of course he does.

“what’s wrong?” to him your expression is unreadable, and he’s scared. are you going to scream at him? are you going to regret it all? did he overstep? your lips on his again quiets his mind, it soothes him.

you’re pulling him into you, and he thinks he’s in heaven. there’s no better feeling than your fingertips dancing around the back of he neck, your hand grasping onto his shoulder, your soft lips moving against him.

you pull him out of his thoughts, “finnick?”

and he hears his voice when he speaks, he hears his urgency to assist to you and only you in this moment. he could care less about himself. “what is it what’s wrong?” your faces are touching, he’s looking into your eyes as yours are down at his lips, scanning over every feature of his face.

“touch me.” you don’t say where, and you don’t care. you need to feel his hands on you, grabbing at you in desperation.

and that he does, without a moment to spare his hands are mapping you out. his mouth is feverishly back onto yours, a groan being muffled by your mouths on one another.

one of his hands is controlling your movements, resting on the middle of your back. the other only slightly below it, right before the curve of your bottom, his hands are hungry and so is his mouth- devouring you.

your bodies are pressed up against one another, and he squeezes your ass- surprising you. your hips rock forwards onto his and as if in-sync, you both moan out.

he’s tented onto your heat, thin dress making you all the more sensitive. every touch made you squirm, set your skin alight. and he noticed that, it drove him mad. thinking about how delicate you were now, only making him then realize the two of you were still standing.

he hoists you onto his hips, carrying you over to the queen sized bed, and placing you down as if it would break.

“is this okay?” he asks atop you, hand tracing your jawline, dropping at your chin and gently redirecting your face to his. you nod, and he tsks, “don’t go quite on my now sweetheart, need to hear your voice.”

you could cry, all you need is to have his touch on you and you would be fine. “please.”

that wasn’t good enough for him, you can see it on his face. “please what? what is it that you want baby?”

you don’t know what you want, anything. you just want him. “please touch me finnick.” your eyes flutter up to his and he thinks this is the purest picture of eroticism. he placed a soft kiss on to your lips until moving down the straps of your dress to kiss along your shoulders.

you take it upon yourself to disregard the dress from your body. besides the fact you couldn’t stand to be in it any longer, having already done your interview in it, you needed his skin on yours.

he kisses down your body, stopping once he reaches your black panties, matching your dress that is now long gone.

he thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful, your looking down at him. he can see the rise and fall of your chest- your hardened nipples through your bra.

with no warning he pulls the fabric of your underwear aside, placing one kiss on the inside of your thigh, pulling your legs apart, its all so agonizingly slow.

finnick cages himself into you, your legs placed over his shoulders. and finally, his lips and tongue are blissfully on you. his hands hold your hips as you almost squirm away from his touch.

he’s not in a rush, he’s slow, precise, and calculated with what he’s doing. he’s stops his licking to suck onto your swollen clit and looks up at you. your lips puffy, head thrown back, and your gripping the sheets.

he has to resist his urge to pull away from his found heaven between your legs to attack your exposed neck, it’s tempting but he returns to flattening his tongue and striping into your hole.

you’re in a daze, you want to see him, but it all feels too good. “i need you inside of me.” it’s almost a sob, more like a beg.

and he tries not to move too hurriedly, pressing a kiss to your bundle of nerves one more before, rising up. his shirt is over his head and his pants are unbuckled and left to lay around the room in seconds.

you can almost see all of his length through his tented boxers, it’s frightening, exciting, and you’re eager.

his lips are on your neck, your back is arching off of the bed and all you can focus are his arms flexing as he holds himself up above you. “you’re my prize y/n.” one of his hands are playing with the seashell necklace you’ve forgotten to take off.

then his lips move onto yours, you can taste yourself through the kiss, it’s sickening how much you’re enjoying this all. “the sweetest fucking prize. you’re all that i want.” he speaks through kisses, your heart is fluttering- chest warm.

it must be too good to be true, you have the capitols darling above you, telling you how badly he needs you, not just in this moment- but in every other fleeting moment of his life he’s needed you.

you see the stain of pre-cum on his boxers, and it almost makes you feel prideful. prideful that with the very little you’d done to him- it’s driven him to this point. and shortly his boxers are coming off, and he’s looking into your eyes.

he almost gets lost in your eyes, “the most beautiful thing.” his hand is moving up your neck, stopping at the side of it. you blush and look away- his stare is almost undressing you more. if that was possibly, your dress and panties were already out of sight.

he redirects your face again, “look at me.” he’s lining himself up with you, “i want you to look at me when i show you how much you make me feel.” words weren’t his strong suit, but, show you is exactly what he did.

he looks into your eyes for any hint of doubt before he’s intruding you, he sighs out-nearly and you could’ve sworn you saw stars at that beautiful noise alone.

you don’t think you’ll last long and he doesn’t think he will either, you were so tight and he had been hard for so long. he was trying to get the most out of it, not race to the finish line.

once you’ve found a comfortable pace, his hand applies pressure to the side of your neck- now you were certainly seeing stars.

this makes everything feel all the more intense, the way his lustful eyes have not left yours, the way he’s rolling his hips into you, the sounds echoing from your room, his sinful praises.

your so very stimulated, wrapped up in the pleasure of it all your head turns into the pillow as you moan out his name. “fuck, do as you’re told, y/n.” and you do, like putty under his hold you turn to face him again.

“feels’ so good finnick. i want you inside of me” you cry out, and maybe it’s the way you’re moaning his name, maybe it’s the way he’s knowing how good he makes you feel, but he can’t help but think about how it should only ever be him who has you in this position.

all he wants to do after this is protect you, to never let you cry unless it’s in his arms, to only let you get to pent up and angry at him, he wants to be the only person who makes your world go round.

he’s close and you are too, he can’t help but kiss you as he feels himself nearing the edge of it all. you’re clenching around him in a way that makes his head spin, “come with me honey.”

his raspy tone, his pressure on your throat, the knot in your stomach- it’s so perfect, so beautiful.

you reach your climax right after he does- repeating his name like a chant.

“i’ve got you.” if you weren’t so enamored by his voice you wouldn’t have heard it.

once finnick has rolled onto his side, he pulls you ontop of him, kissing your shoulders, fingers kneading into the fat of your waist. your sure you’ve left the bed in ruins, but he doesn’t care.

all finnick cares about now is you, he doesn’t want anything to change, but he wants everything to change all at once.

he wants to tell you he loves you, but he doesn’t want to disturb the ride and fall of your chest. he wants to take you away from all the pain and suffering that will come your way, but he doesn’t want to leave this bed with you just yet.

“i’m sorry.” your words are muffled by his chest. he looks down at you, running a hand through your hair. his brows are furrowed, what could an angel like you ever apologize for? “for yelling at you. it’s not your fault, i was scared.”

he’s quiet, and you look up to face his eyes, you’re scared he’s in regret. that he’s trying to escape this moment, but you see the concern in his eyes, “there will never be a moment where i don’t look out for you ever again.” he wants to swear to you that you’ll never feel a second of pain but he can’t promise that.

-

masterlist

requests are open!!!

hello babies!

i’ve been conjuring up a finnick series the last few days and i’m stuck on two plots…..

childhood bestfriends turned strangers turned lovers… (confusing, i know.)

orrrrr something more like strangers turned best friends turned lovers..

both are going to have so much angst as u can already expect from me but please lmk!

i expect this series to be around 10 chapters and around 10k words each one… lmk!

masterlist

FEVERS !

finnick x reader series

pre seventieth-hunger games

contains; angst, heartbreak, second perspective, little to no use of ‘y/n’.

the water is anything but a mirror of your stagnant body, the waves are fighting the shore- crashing angrily as if to make a point of the fury climbing through your body.

you’re still, despite the slight water droplets tickling your bare legs. another year, another reaping, a handful of deaths. and with reapings in district four, came finnick, finally returning from the capitol.

it wasn’t hard to go on with your life without him, the most difficult of times being when you’d wake up with things to tell him, not knowing what was going on in his life. remembering how he looked down on you, how he laughed pointedly in your face before treating you like one of his fangirls- pretentiously slamming the door in your face.

but you were fine on your own now, over four long years had passed by in a flash and you’d left him alone- though he was everywhere and nowhere all at once.

you didn’t see him at the lighthouse near the pier, you didn’t hear him lauging when you’d walk to school together, you didn’t smell the sea salt whenever he’d walk into any room, didn’t feel the water spraying over you shivering body when he’d shake his wet hair out of the beach.

none of it mattered, your best friend was gone. you’d unfailingly remember the day finnick had been reaped, he wasn’t too sterling on putting on a mask back then. his eyes blown, his hesitance to step up to that stage. his eyes would’ve found yours in any crowd then. you thought you’d gone through the worst of it all losing him- oh, how you thought it was all over.

it was a dark morning in district four, you were simply just impending your attendance at the reaping to conclude, then return back to your bed, easier said than done.

your body distastefully pulled itself from the sand as the sun creeped up on the shoreline, signaling the end of your escape.

your mind was elsewhere- zoning out into your own world of issues until that familiar hue of lilacs from the hydrangea bush near your home caught your eye.

the trek from the beach was short, and your home was small. despite the fact that district four was amongst the wealthiest districts, the balance came in practical ways; enough food to go round, electricity and power for each family, but still treacherous working conditions.

finnick is standing behind the placemats of where the tributes will stand minutes from now, he can spot you in any crowd- but it scares him in a way. why can he only see you? despite the sea of girls your age surrounding you he can only see you.

the video plays, the same video that plays every year before finnick gets to get a good look at his tributes. it’s snow, he talks of war, of despair- as if the districts are a stranger to it.

usually he zones out, usually he doesn’t mind the names called. but something feels wrong about this day in particular. something that makes him easily strartled, like he should run.

you keep your eyes to your shoes, to the sand that covers the tips of them- but you can still feel his eyes, they’re burning you. not quite like the sun that scorches your eyes, but a burn you couldn’t hide from.

“ladies first!” your escorts voice is too peppy, it scratches your ears wrong. you just want to go home, more than usual. you want to close in on yourself.

the crinkling of the unfolding paper echoes through the microphone, a smile on the escorts painted lips, you almost feel like your dreaming.

you and finnicks minds are brought back to reality when your name is called. finnicks mind must have made it up, maybe hes been plagued with sun poisoning. his excuse is cut short as the girls around you form a gaping path from you to the stage, he knows you want to disappear, a part of him does too. your mother lets out a wail, but you can’t look at her- only as the peace keepers who lead you with hands on your back your back to the stage.

finnicks guilt consumes him wholly, it was surely his fault. something he did, something he said- he got your name into that bowl far too many times then it needed to be. he sees your face, he sees your tense shoulders as you walk your way up the stairs, onto the placemat on the stage. he knows you feel closed in at the stares, at the eyes of everyone- the cameras.

this is sickening, how well he can read you after all these years. how he has instantly promised to any god that was listening that he would not sleep until you made it out, that he would not quit the pleasure and charms of the capitolites until they gave you all of the materials you needed.

sickening, how your hair had waves it in- and he instantly knew it was from you taking your hair out of braids after they’d gotten wet from the saltwater. how you were slowly blinking- your dead give away at calming yourself down.

he cursed the crowd, he cursed snow, he cursed himself. how has nobody volunteered? how could snow try and hurt you after he’s spent so long shielding you from this exact moment? how could he let himself sit here and do nothing?

“and now, the boys!” the escorts voice makes finnick sick now, he swears he can feel blood dripping down his ears. the same voice that called out yours- that tried to take you to your death. “lux dagon!”

you’ve heard of him before, he’s a year older than you. he’s said to be charming, smart, likeable. all of your premonitions are proven to be true when he squares his shoulders off, a captivating smile flooding his mouth. unlike you, he doesn’t hesitate to stride up to the stage- he was a career child.

he’d waited his whole life for this moment, he was smarter, stronger, taller, and faster than you. his eyebrows were thick and dark, just like his round eyes. olive skin, and dark hair that fringed down to his forehead.

you were sure you were dead this moment, you were dead and you couldn’t even put up a fight. it was slightly enthralling, how your last bit of hope for survival was crushed at one mere name.

luxs smile reappears when he turns to you, the color was drained for your face- mouth slightly agape. he winks incredulously as he sticks his hand out to shake yours. you take it, well aware of the fact that your hand is very-likely soaked in sweat.

you can’t keep eye contact with him, all you can see is your mother being held back by peacekeepers- her face would be etched into your mind for some time. her only child, only family- you felt saddest for her most of all. because you knew this would be the last she saw of you before you’d be killed on television- you didn’t want to think about how helpless she’d feel, how she’d never quite be the same.

you try not to pay any mind to finnick as you make your way to the train car. infact, you don’t pay mind to anyone.

but nevertheless, finnick is hot on your tail- leaving no room for personal space. you’re sure it will be a long train ride, silent on your part.

the walls are dark grey, lined with gold. light fixtures decorate every surface. a plethora of food and drinks await you, none of it is fish nor vegetables. you don’t know what it is, but your stomach can’t handle the sight of it.

you sit on a red couch, gold hugs the ends of the seat. lux joins, taking the spot next to you. you don’t cause a stir when finnick sits in front of you, and certainly not when mags sits diagonal.

it almost feels like a sick joke to finnick, the idea that you’re infront of him after all these years, and not saying a word. you’re alive but you’re about to face issues larger than you’re ready for. it feels like he might never escape, like he may never rid himself of being tormented.

a voice tears him from his thoughts, “so, what can i do to win?” lux asks eagerly, his hands are clasped and his elbows are on his knees- eyeing finnick and mags.

finnick is solely not in a fit state to humor his excitement. looking to his lap with a sigh then pinching the bridge of his nose. “that’s a broad question.”

lux can’t sense the bitterness in his words, it almost seemed unprofessional of finnick. your district-mate mutters soemthing about how he’s already well equipped to kill, “water? what if it’s dry land?”

mags gets up from her seat, coughing- off to the bathroom. lux then splays his hands on his jean clad knees, and pushes himself up, irritated at the lack of response.

you can’t help but agree, if you’d really cared that much- if you were truly that desperate to win, and had been asking for advice to no avail, you’d be indignant as well.

one out of sight, finnick looks straight at you. your back is leaning into the cushion of the couch, hands fiddling. he wants to know where you are right now- that sinking dazed look is in your eyes, all he wants is to throw the rope and get you out of your head. “they love him already.”

you snap your head at his words, he doesn’t say your name- but it’s the first time you’ve heard his voice speak to yours in years. his words are covering the sweetness in his voice. you take this chance to study his face, a lot has changed- you just wished it wasn’t in these circumstances that you’d see your best friend again.

he sighs, “y/n.” finnicks eyes are pleading with yours now, “focus, if you can’t beat him, join him. we can’t have him being district fours favorite.”

your eyebrows furrow, you want to scream at him, it doesn’t feel right simply speaking to him- it felt too soon, but so long. “i’m sorry.” you let out a sigh, “can you speak in simpler terms, the poverty back home has given me brain rot- mr odair.” the ridicule in your tone has him seething, knuckles white as he grips the chair.

you’d never been one to simply forgive, you always held grudges, but never with him- it never should’ve been that way. finnick didn’t know what he expected when he thought he could simply prance into your life once more and beg for you to do as he says. he should’ve known you’d come up with a million reasons as to why he thinks he’s better than you, he knew you’d tricked yourself into thinking that he was on some sort of capitol high horse after winning.

but it’s what you’d do, what you’d always done. as if you were in a constant state of survival- this only scared him. finnick knew he’d make you a winner, no matter what it would take. he had nothing left to give to the capitol, his dignity, his body, his mind, but he swore he’d get you out of this- though he also knew the victors life would tear you to shreds.

you didn’t want to treat him this way, it was only the way he looked at you like he was high and mighty. so egotistical, nothing like the boy you once knew. as if his mind was superior to yours, like he was too snotty to be in your presence.

he sits up in his chair, running a hand through his hair before leaning close to you. “i’m just trying to help you.”

you knew this, yet you couldn’t take it. his advice burned your ears, it made you feel small. to have him try to teach you, after all that’s happened.

after a few beats of your eyes latching onto the ground- neglecting eye contact as he desperately tried to gauge your interest, he stood up, almost disappointedly. you supposed this was him turning in for the night.

the sceneries whizzed past you in the window, greens and brows in a haze. you just wanted to be back home, on the beach- far far away from the capitol. though like many things, it seemed too good to be true.

you couldn’t help but think about finnick, how all you needed was him right now- his laugh, the way he’d always know what to say. but you didn’t recognize him, the times you’d forget you weren’t friends, or even civil haunted you.

how did either of you forgive yourselves for letting things become this way, to have gone from a connection you were born to have built, to being unable to speak.

your mind blames him, blamed the fact that he’d changed and forgot to tell you, the fact that he’d slammed the door in your face. but your conscious thoughts blamed yourself, for not understanding what he’d gone through, for not being more patient.

and so you’d close your eyes, thinking of the times finnick had helped your mom cook fish- insisting to her that it’s impossible to burn fish. he wore a sweet smile then, his hair was shorter- he looked more comfortable in his own skin. you wondered when that had all changed, when things had been turned this way.

ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

a/n: this was just a preface! not an actual chapter. i actually hate this with my whole heart but i needed to get this out of the way so the story would make sense. trust they’ll work it out !!

masterlist

REQUESTS OPEN

.☘︎ ݁˖𐦍༘ ⋆₊⊹.

hi my smoochies i’m alive and well pls ignore my 5 month hiatus. my requests ARE OPEN!! i wanna write for more people so my character list is as follows and not in any particular order ;)

✧finnick odair

✧ jj maybank

✧ anakin skywalker

✧ bellamy blake

✧ peeta mellark

✧ alex turner

✧ paul atreides

✧ lorenzo zurzolo

✧ anyone! just request and im sure id write it

- missed u guys, kiss kiss

i can’t be the only one that physically can’t read fictional character x reader fanfics right ??

currently thinking about soft!finnick . . .

soft!finnick who is oh so gentle with you. he’s always so patient when it comes to your emotions.

soft!finnick who doesn’t rush into anything sexual with you. he’s familiar with the feeling of being prostituted, and he doesn’t want you to feel that way and doesn’t want himself to feel that way. he also doesn’t want you to feel like he’s just fucking you, he wants you to feel like he’s making love to you. nothing like the stuff he was forced to do in the capitol. he’d be whispering sweet praise into your ear as he softly peppers kisses along your skin. always mumbling little “you okay?” ‘s to you, making sure you’re feeling alright.

soft!finnick who absolutely hates arguing and yelling. whenever the two of you have a disagreement, he’s always trying to calmly talk it out with you and work through your differences.

soft!finnick who snuggles into your embrace after coming home from the beach, after a long, tiring day of swimming. there are little grains of sand tangled in his hair that you feel gently itching at your skin as he lays his head on his chest and drifts off to sleep.

soft!finnick who brings home pretty seashells he found on the beach while swimming. he was thinking of you (he always is) and wanted to bring a few back home to you.

soft!finnick and reader preparing a hearty meal together in their kitchen, finnick chopping veggies and seasoning the meat while reader puts the finishing touches on a salad, listening to their favorite playlist and bantering with each other as they work.

soft!finnick who pulls you closer to him and mumbles “5 more minutes..” in his raspy morning voice when you try to get out of bed and start your day.

it’s safe to say that the two of you end up tangled in the sheets for a lot more than 5 more minutes. hours have gone by, but finnick still insists on staying in bed with you. you don’t protest of course. but even if you tried to protest or escape, you’d be unable to wiggle out of his strong arms, embracing you. but hey, it’s not like you’d wanna leave his warm embrace anyway.

do u guys have any headcanons i can possibly write about or include in a blurb?? i wanna write but i kinda have writers block rn 😭😭

would be greatly appreciated! <3

currently thinking about summer with bf!finnick . . .

being at the beach with bf!finnick who swims in the ocean with all of the little boys and girls, entertaining them by showing them cool tricks or cracking humorous jokes to make them giggle.

all of the kids would surround him as he shows them how long he can hold his breath underwater for. this even goes so far to a point where he’s having contests with some of the kids, seeing who can hold their breath underwater for longer.

of course finnick wins (duh) ,, but the kids are so excited to take on the challenge and see if they can beat finnick.

humid summer mornings with bf!finnick where the two of you spend the entire morning snuggling up to each other in your shared bed, with minimal clothes on due to the brutal summer heat.

anytime you try to get up & start your day, he always speaks in his sleepy, raspy voice;

“5 more minutes.. please..”

of course you don’t protest. i meannnn, who wouldnt take him up on that offer 🤭

but soon, 5 more minutes turns into 10 more minutes. then into 20 more minutes, etc etc…

eventually, the two of you end up wrapped up in the sheets for hours. but hey, you’re not complaining.

HEYYYY! So like every other mf on the planet right now I am in my hunger games era!!

Please could you write a Finnick x Reader where she is selected for the quarter quell (Maybe in her games she was lethal and killed like 10+ people?)

And when Katniss shoots the arena in catching fire she gets taken by the capitol (Like Peeta) and they torture her and shit? Then Finnick and her get there reunion she’s all like battered and bruided and it’s dead sad? Not sure if this made sense because i’m half asleep and dyselxic but let me know😭🤣

Maybe he says “It’s okay baby i got you” ??? x

hey of course i can! i hope u enjoy it babe <3 its a tiny bit long! my apologizes

cw's: angst, mentions of killing/dying, typical thg stuff, torture, ptsd, lmk if i missed anything

You were one of the youngest victors alongside Finnick, being only 15 and having won your games. You were also from District 4. You won the 68th Hunger Games, a few years after Finnick.

When you were reaped, Finnick and Mags were your mentors. Finnick came off as self absorbed and arrogant but once you started talking to him, the more you realized that was total bullshit. He wasn't how the Capitol portrayed him, he was much more caring and compassionate. He was very sympathetic to your situation, having gone through the same things.

During your time in the arena, you were one of the most ruthless tributes of all time. In the beginning, you were easily overlooked. The tributes weren't thinking that you were going to be much of a challenge because of your size and the way you carried yourself.

But that was exactly how you wanted to be portrayed. You tricked the Careers into thinking you were some naïve little girl, stabbing them in the back (literally) the first chance you got. The Capitol loved the turn of events, cheering you on.

When you had come back home, you had finally understood the intensity of what you had done. You had killed a whole group of people, ending their lives permanently. Those people had lives and family who loved them, and now they're gone because of you.

You suffered through months and months from never ending nightmares. Even getting consoled by your mother didn't help anymore; she doesn't understand. You didn't even feel worthy of food anymore.

You closed off Mags and Finnick when you had come home, driving yourself into isolation and depression. You rarely went out anymore, eating one meal a day and slept more than 80% of the day. Even sleeping couldn't mend the eternal tiredness you had, the void that filled your body.

Finnick had felt more than responsible for your pain. He gave you time before he realized he was just adding to your pain. Even when you didn't communicate back to him, Finnick visited you every day. He gave you advice and told you what he had went through after the Games as well. Eventually you opened up more to Finnick, and slowly, he had become your best friend.

He had told you that numbing it wasn't going to make it go away. He reminded you that you had him and Mags to help you with this process, and that you weren't alone despite of how you felt.

He helped you regain your sense of purpose again, your self image again. Finnick had singlehandedly helped you rebuilt your sense of self again.

He saw a part of you in him, that scared 14 year old boy who was trying to go back home to his parents. He never wanted anyone to feel that, especially you.

He promised you that he would never let anything bad ever happen to you again.

During your Victor's tour, Snow had suddenly deemed you desirable by the Capitol, wanting to sell you as he did with Finnick. Finnick couldn't risk getting involved, wanting to protect his family.

Every night in the Capitol, you were always consoled by Finnick. Every time you had to do a favor, you remember walking to Finnick's room to sleep, not baring the thought of having to sleep alone in the cold bed. He was always there, holding your hand comfortingly as you both slept.

The Capitol adored you both, nicknaming you the princess and prince of Panem. The more time you spent with Finnick, the more the media had speculated a relationship between the young victors.

You and Finnick had connected in many ways. Both having the same trauma, it was easy to talk to him and for him to understand how hard it was.

You and Finnick eventually got together a few years later, then getting married (in secret, of course) almost right after. You were both deeply in love.

Finnick found solace in the thought of always having you by his side, remembering that no one could tear you apart. That was until the Quarter Quell was announced.

You and Finnick were sitting at the edge of the couch, listening to Caesar's words carefully as he explained that this year's Hunger Games was going to be very different.

When it was announced that there will be only be Victors in this year's games, you heard dropped. You looked over at Finnick and he shared the same terrified look on his face.

--

When Annie's name had been called, you without any second thought, put up your hand. "I volunteer as tribute."

The crowd gasped and you looked over at Annie and you could tell she was a bit relived but still scared nonetheless. You immediately embraced her tightly, letting her let out a small sob. "It's okay, you're okay."

Mags looked just as terrified and you took her hand. When Finnick's name was called, you felt your stomach drop. Not only were you back in the arena, but you were with Finnick.

You looked over at Finnick and he looked prepared to fight. You both stood up and he grabbed your hand, raising it up in union.

The trainride to the Capitol was pretty uneventful. Finnick had wanted some time to think about the plan and so did you. A part of you knew what he was planning; he kill everyone else in the arena and then eventually himself, all for you.

As you sat on the bed, you felt the sadness and anger turn into numbness. No amount of crying was going to stop the Quater Quell and you had to be smart.

You didn't want to survive without Finnick. You were either winning with him or dying with him. Life would be meaningless without him.

Finnick knocked on your door slightly, before walking in. You looked up at him and he gave you a small smile. He took a seat next to and took your hand.

"I have a plan."

"Finnick, I know what you're thinking, and no. You're not killing yourself for me."

Finnick looked defeated. "One of us has to survive, Y/N. For Annie. For Mags."

You look a deep inhale, looking away from Finnick. "I don't want to life without you, everything would lose all it's meaning without you."

Finnick felt his heart burst into two pieces as he squeezed your hand. You felt your eyes watering again and you couldn't help but let out another quiet cry as Finnick pulled your head in, as he embraced you tightly.

"Shh, it's okay. I promise, I won't... I won't leave you."

--

It had all happened so fast, you couldn't even comprehend what had just happened. One moment, you were with Finnick trying to find Johanna and Katniss and suddenly there was big loud boom. You were relieved for a moment; Plutarch's plan had worked. Until you realized how far away you were from the others.

You were wandering, trying to find anyone until you heard people behind you. You turned and then you saw some unfamiliar faces; suddenly, your vision went black.

Then, you woke up in a white room. You felt like your stomach had dropped out of your body once the realization hit you; the Capitol captured you.

You were strapped down to a bed and you couldn't move or shake it off. The severity of the situation had hit you; even if by some miracle you did escape, where would you go? How would you find your way to 13 and back to Finnick?

You knew how ruthless the Capitol was to everyone who disobeyed them. Your worst fears had come true and there was no getting out of here.

You heard the door open and you saw some Peacekeepers come in and then you saw the person you dreaded to see most; Snow. You felt like your whole had come crashing down, how could this nightmare become any worse?

"Hello, Y/N."

You didn't respond, resorting to stare at the wall in front of you instead.

He tutted disappointedly. "Out of all the tributes, you were the one I expected least to be involved in this mess. You are the Princess of Panem... What a shame."

You still hadn't replied and you hadn't dared to look at Snow. Months and months you spent trying to heal the trauma he had caused you, you were sure if you had to look at him now, you would break.

"I want to take mercy on you, dear Y/N. If you tell me everything you know about the rebellion, I will make sure the Peacekeepers are gentle with you."

You shook your head. "No."

He let out a small chuckle. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you. What?"

"No." You said again, louder.

He hummed in disapproval. "Okay then, you leave me no choice. You are going to regret this."

He nodded to the Peacekeepers and walked out of the room. You were then met with Peacekeepers, loosening the straps then taking you to another room.

If Snow knew one thing about you, it was that being only physical with you wouldn't hurt you enough. He had to hit you were it hurt most.

They threw you in the seemingly vacant room and immediately locking it. You were confused until you heard it.

"Y/N, help me!" Finnick's voice screamed. "Please, help me! Get up and do something, they're killing me! Please."

You looked everywhere in the dark room, trying to find the source. It kept going.

"Y/N, please! Help! What the hell are you doing, just sitting there? You are such a disappointment!" The voice started shouting. "We should've just left you to died in the arena! You are useless!"

Now this was something new. Your body was filled with panic and fear and even though you knew it was fake, you felt like you were going to throw up from all the noise.

Suddenly, Annie's voice came in as well. Then Johanna's. Then your mother's. There was nonstop noise filled with screams for help, shouting with disapproving messages. Your body couldn't handle it; it was so overwhelmed with fear that you started shaking on the ground, putting your hands on your ears but that did little to nothing.

You wanted it to stop. It was too much, you were trembling. It felt like days, just sitting there in that room listening to all those demeaning voices of your loved ones. You couldn't even think straight anymore.

It was so bad you had started to pound your head on the ground, screaming and crying. You had have enough. And then, it all stopped. Silence was foreign for you; your ears were ringing.

You were sitting on the ground, almost lifeless as the Peacekeepers took you away. Your eyes hurt from the tears, your body sore, your ears ringing and your head was pounding.

But you knew that was just the beginning.

--

You were asleep in bed and you were awakened by the door opening, you instantly jolted up. You looked over to see a group of masked men in front of you and you had started to tremble again, silent tears rolling down your face, thinking that the Peacekeepers had come again.

"No, no, no." You started to mumble to yourself.

A man came up to your and took your bruised hand slowly, rubbing it gently in silent empathy. That was the first soft touch you'd felt in a few weeks and it almost stung.

"It's okay, you're safe now. You're going to 13 now."

You had to blink a couple times, trying to process what he said. Was this a dream? You went to pinch yourself but it was real life.

He then helped you up but you couldn't help but stumble; your legs were weak, you couldn't remember the last time the Peacekeepers let you walk for this long.

As you got into the hovercraft, you saw Annie. Your eyes widened as you both ran up to each other, embracing each other. She had started to cry a little bit and so did you.

That was when it hit you. You were going to see Finnick. You were going home. You started crying into Annie's shoulder as she held you. "We're safe now, we're safe."

You had seen Johanna as well but she didn't seem too responsive. Neither did Peeta. You fell asleep on Annie's shoulder on the ride back and for the first time, you actually felt yourself drifting off calmly.

--

There were lots of doctors and nurses looking at you and asking you all sorts of questions and you tried your best to answer them. You were still in shock; you were safe. They couldn't hurt you anymore.

"Y/N?" You turned around to see Finnick. You immediately got up from the examiner's table and ran into his arms, your eyes starting to water up again.

"Finnick," you sighed slowly. You pulled away, putting your hands on his face and touched him as if he wasn't real.

"Are you.. Are you really here?"

"Yes, I'm really here." Finnick looked at you and suddenly his voice transported you back into the dark room. You quickly twisted out of his embrace and his expression changed.

His voice was back and you heard all of the nasty things he had to you. You back away, stumbling into the examiner's table and your breathing became heavy. "No, no, no, please-please go away. No."

You slid down to the floor and you closed your eyes, putting your hands on your ears and rocking back and forth trying to get that voice to stop.

Finnick ran up to you and put his hands on your knees, trying to get you to look at him. His heart broke in half; he didn't know what the Capitol had done to you but now he knows it has something to do with him.

Of course the Capitol would try to ruin him. His eyes started to tear up at the sight of you, in so much pain and panic.

You opened your eyes, Finnick in front of you. You started to cry some more before Finnick slowly went up to you, wrapping his arms around you.

When he had started wrapping your arms around you, your instinct was to push him away but his warmth was welcoming and safe and you started to focus on his touch. The voices slowly drifted away, the sounds of your silent sobs only being heard.

You then gave into Finnick's touch, falling into him and putting your head in his chest as he caressed your back gently, shushing you.

"It's okay baby, I got you. You're safe now, they can't hurt you."

✎ masterlist ✎

this is a collection of all my one shots. more will be added as i continue to write. requests are closed!

[ key: ]

🌷 ≈ fluff

🍑 ≈ smut

🌪️ ≈ angst

💻 ≈ work in progress

!LATEST! — from the flames | b. blake 💻🍑

•finnick odair•

— the five stages » 🌪️

— hungry eyes » 🍑

— love(rs) and war » 🍑

— what friends do » 🍑🌷

— lionfish, seahorses, and dolphins, oh my! » 🌷

— beautiful mess » 🌷🌪️

— two souls, one heart » 🌪️

— nsfw alphabet » 🍑

— flower therapy » 🌪️🌷

— bad idea, right? » 🍑🌪️

— red wine: part 1, part 2, part 3 »🌷🌪️

— forbidden fruit » 🍑

— a darling and a virgin » 🌪️🍑

•bellamy blake•

— from the flames: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 » 💻🍑

— close call » 🍑

— bioluminescence » 🌷

— pretty fixation, wicked temptation » 🍑

•gally (the maze runner)•

— relationship headcanons pt. two » 🌷

— relationship headcanons » 🌷🌪️🍑

• (more characters to be added)•

☆ FINNICK ODAIR MASTERLIST!

headcanons / drabbles!

finnick and casual dominance

finnick’s a poetic romantic

finnick x shy!you

finnick and manhandling

finnick’s favourite things to call you

blurbs!

more finnick and casual dominance

finnick gets you in his lap

finnick corners you to tease you

finnick gets jealous

finnick’s protective over tribute!you

finnick gets jealous (again)

you get jealous and finnick thinks it’s cute

finnick comforts you when you can’t sleep

finnick looks after you when you’re sick

finnick gives shy!you your first kiss

𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

𝒈𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒆:

𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕: ☾

𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇: ✿

𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕: ❥

𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖓𝖎𝖈𝖐 𝖔𝖉𝖆𝖎𝖗

𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘 𝖔𝖕𝖊𝖓

𝔴𝔦𝔭 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

𝒐𝒉 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕... 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆'𝒔 𝒂 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕

𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰

𝙢𝙞𝙙𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣 1/2

☾✿

summary: finnick had pulled the plug on your relationship long ago, when he could no longer keep from you what he'd been forced into. but after you've returned victorious from your games, he knows you need him as the nightmares come for you each time you close your eyes.

𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓼𝓾𝓷𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓮 𝓘 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓶𝓲𝓭𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓻𝓪𝓲𝓷, 𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓽 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓫𝓵𝓮 𝓘 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓷, 𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓪 𝓫𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝓘 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝔂 𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓮

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 (a sequel series)

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13

☾❥✿

summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓼 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓸𝓮𝓽𝓼 𝔀𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓭𝓲𝓮, 𝓘 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓫𝓮𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓮𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓭 𝓷𝓮𝓲𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓭𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓹𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓼 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓪 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓯𝓮𝓬𝓽 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓬𝓻𝔂, 𝓘'𝓶 𝓼𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓯𝓯, 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓾𝓼𝓮, 𝓷𝓸, 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧 ( the end of the trilogy)

1/2/3/4/5/6

☾❥✿

summary: the Capitol has taken you away from Finnick, the life you've been trying to build together and now he has to fight to get every part of you back

𝓲𝓯 𝓘 𝓯𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓻𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓻, 𝓼𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓵𝓾𝓮𝓼 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓮𝓪, 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝔂 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓶𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻? 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓶𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓼? 𝓲𝓯 𝓘 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓸𝔀 𝓲𝓽 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓻𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓻, 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓻𝓱𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓶 𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓭, 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝔂 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓸𝓷 𝓶𝓮?

𝔬𝔫𝔢-𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔱𝔰

𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 (requested)

✿

summary: after winning your games you're thrust into a new scene of capitol luxury and parties. in the midst of the gowns, and masquerade masks you meet someone who you instantly feel sparks go off for, victor finnick odair.

𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓲𝓼 𝓼𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓴𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰, 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓲𝓽 𝓰𝓸 𝓘'𝓶 𝔀𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓾𝓬𝓴, 𝓫𝓵𝓾𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝓱𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓘'𝓵𝓵 𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓲𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓴𝓷𝓮𝔀 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓲𝓼 𝓯𝓵𝓪𝔀𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼, 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓲𝓽 𝓰𝓸 𝓘'𝓶 𝔀𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓾𝓬𝓴, 𝓭𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓘'𝓵𝓵 𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓲𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓴𝓷𝓮𝔀 𝓘 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓶𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓫𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓮𝓵𝓼𝓮 𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓫𝓸𝓭𝔂 𝔀𝓪𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾

𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨

☾

summary: finnick's cycle of self destruction stops for no one, even if it tears the two of you apart, but you refuse to fade into the past.

𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓼𝓽 𝓪 𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓵𝓵 𝓸𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓘 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓘 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭'𝓿𝓮 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓘'𝓵𝓵 𝓯𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷 '𝓽𝓲𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭 𝓸𝓯 𝓶𝔂 𝓿𝓸𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓱𝓪𝓾𝓷𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓰𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓶𝓮 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓪 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓵𝓵 𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓰𝓮𝓽 𝓪𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾

𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩

❥

summary: finnick can't stop himself from an endless day of teasing leaving you frustrated with an itch only he can scratch

𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂'𝓼 𝓯𝓲𝓽 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓪 𝓭𝓪𝔂𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶 𝔀𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓲𝓷' 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷, 𝓘'𝓶 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓱𝓮'𝓼 𝔀𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓲𝓷' 𝓽𝓸, 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽, 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽, 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓽 𝓼𝓸 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽, 𝔂𝓮𝓪𝓱, 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂'𝓼 𝓯𝓵𝔂 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓪 𝓳𝓮𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶 𝓱𝓲𝓰𝓱 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓮 𝓼𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓮, 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓼 𝓶𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓘'𝓶 𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓷𝓮𝔀, 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽, 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽, 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓽, 𝓼𝓸 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽, 𝔂𝓮𝓪𝓱, 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽

𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚 (requested)

✿ ❥

summary: you and finnick had never confessed your feelings, but after you've been rescued from the Capitol, you both realize it's time to talk about the unspoken

𝓘'𝓶 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓶𝓾𝓼𝓲𝓬, 𝓘'𝓶 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓰, 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝔂 𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓶𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓰, 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓶𝓮 𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰, 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓶𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭. 𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮, 𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮 𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓵𝔂 𝓸𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓰𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭. 𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮, 𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮, 𝓸𝓱 𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷

𝙞𝙣𝙫𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 (requested)

✿☾

summary: you and finnick are meant to be together even if neither of you noticed all the signs.

𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮, 𝓶𝔂𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓪𝓵 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮, 𝓬𝓾𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝓮 𝓸𝓹𝓮𝓷, 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝓮 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓮. 𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓬𝓵𝓾𝓮𝓼 𝓘 𝓭𝓲𝓭𝓷'𝓽 𝓼𝓮𝓮? 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓲𝓼𝓷'𝓽 𝓲𝓽 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓼𝓸 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓴, 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓲𝓷𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓲𝓫𝓵𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰

𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙮

☾

summary: finnick pushed himself away, isolated himself, and you're slipping through his fingers like sand.

𝓘 𝓰𝓸𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓾𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓶𝔂 𝓼𝓴𝓲𝓷 𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝔀𝓱𝔂 𝓭𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓲𝓽 𝓼𝓸 𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓭? 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓶𝓮 𝓫𝓻𝓸𝓴𝓮𝓷 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓮 𝔀𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓮𝓵𝓵 𝓶𝓮 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓻𝓮? 𝓸𝓱, 𝔀𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷, 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓮𝓪𝓼𝔂 𝓲𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓰𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓪 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷? 𝓲𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓰𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓪 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷

𝙖𝙢𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙖 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙚 (requested)

❥

summary: you and finnick have always had an irresistible pull towards one another

𝓪 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷'𝓽 𝓱𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓻𝔂 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓭𝓮𝓷𝔂 𝓲𝓽 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓼 𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓶𝓮, 𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓮𝔂, 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓪𝓶𝓫𝓻𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓪 𝔀𝓲𝓷𝓮 𝓪𝓷 𝓾𝓻𝓰𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷'𝓽 𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓰𝓮𝓽 𝓪 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓘'𝓵𝓵 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓮𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓷𝓪𝓵 𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓮, 𝓼𝓸 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓶𝓮, 𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓮𝔂, 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓪𝓶𝓫𝓻𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓪 𝔀𝓲𝓷𝓮

𝙄 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙨 (requested)

✿☾

summary: after you win your games you've become more closed off and untrusting, but hidden away in the corner of a Captiol party fate leads you straight to your soulmate.

𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓼 𝓯𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓱 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓮'𝓵𝓵 𝓻𝓾𝓷 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓼 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶 𝓼𝓪𝔂 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽, 𝔀𝓮 𝔀𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓲𝓽 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓹𝓼 𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓹𝓼 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓪𝓶𝓷 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓫 𝓶𝔂 𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓭𝓻𝓸𝓹 𝓲𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼, 𝔀𝓮 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝔁𝓮𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓮 𝓻𝓾𝓷 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂, 𝓘 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮𝓼 𝔀𝓮 𝔀𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓫𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂'𝓵𝓵 𝓫𝓮 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓲𝓻 𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓼 𝓽𝓻𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓾𝓼 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷 '𝓬𝓪𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝓘, 𝓘 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮𝓼 𝔀𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓱𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝓘 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮𝓼

𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰

𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙣𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙨 𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 ✿

𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙜𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧!𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙣𝙚𝙧 (requested) ✿

𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙞𝙢𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙣𝙚𝙧 ☾

finnick and black cat!partner ✿

𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙣𝙚𝙧 (requested) ✿

𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖 𝙨𝙪𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙣𝙚𝙧 (requested) ✿

𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔠.

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 (𝙩𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣)

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 (𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙘 𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣)

finnick would definitely get drunk on eating reader out 🤭

i couldn’t agree more!!

he starts off so arrogant though; probably has more self confidence than he should. he likes to take his time with it because the impatient little sounds that come out of your pretty mouth make his brain go haywire. he’ll completely avoid touching your clit until you’re writhing and bucking against him and there’s a growing wet patch underneath you from where you’re leaking everywhere. then he’ll raise his head and give you his cheekiest grin. ‘you need to learn some patience, sweet girl,’ he’d coo teasingly. 100% clicks his tongue if you just keep moving around.

so he thinks he can finally do it, can finally drag this out and keep you on the edge for as long as possible but then you’re whining his name, close to the edge of tears from all the teasing and that’s his weak spot - hearing that half sob, half moan of his name. ‘relax sweetheart,’ he’d murmur before pressing a light kiss against where he’s been avoiding. ‘you’ll get what you want.’

and after your first orgasm you’d think he’d stop but he’s got a taste for it now. such a sweet reward for all his hard work and he wants it again. lays a heavy arm over your lower stomach when the overstimulation kicks in and you keep twitching away. likes to spit onto your clit and watch it dribble down, only to swipe it up on his thumb and use it to rub slow circles into that sensitive spot. you can only watch as he brings you closer to his mouth, pretty eyes fluttering shut as he kisses lazily at your folds. doesn’t even bother to nudge your thighs back apart when they clamp around his head.

then there’s the noises. the little hums that make your back arch off the sheets. the filthy wet noises that your pussy makes when his tongue flicks into your hole. finnicks moans when you warn him that you’re gonna cum again. from the noises he makes you’d think it’s him that was being pleasured but from his perspective he is. he ruts his hips occasionally against the mattress but eating you out gets him off more than anything and even once he’s made himself all sticky he’d still want more. ‘another one,’ he’d urge desperately, his eyes all blown out and glazed, his chin and lips so wet it makes you blush. ‘just one more baby, please.’

A Wished For Future 🔱🩵

Finnick Odair × Fem!Reader.

The sound of waves lapping gently against the shore echoed in the distance as the sun bathed the world in a golden glow. The large house by the water, once a sanctuary in a world of chaos, was now filled with the warmth of a family’s love and the echoes of laughter. Six years had passed since the end of the games, a time of darkness that seemed like a distant memory now.

In the living room, the air was filled with joy as Finnick chased his son, Atlantis, around the room. The boy's small legs moved as fast as they could, his laughter ringing through the house. His bright eyes sparkled with the thrill of the chase, and Finnick’s heart swelled with love as he pretended to struggle to catch him.

Y/N stood in the archway, her two-year-old daughter, Clarity, nestled in her arms. A soft smile graced her lips as she watched her two boys play. She looked down at Clarity, who was watching the scene with wide eyes. “Aren’t they just being silly?” Y/N giggled, brushing a strand of hair from her daughter's face.

Clarity let out a small, delighted squeal, her tiny hands clapping together. The sound caught Atlantis’s attention, and he changed direction, running straight for his mother. “Mamma!” he giggled, his little feet pounding against the wooden floor as he made his way to her.

Y/N knelt down, wrapping one arm around Atlantis as he reached her, pulling both of her children close. Finnick came up behind them, placing a gentle hand on Y/N’s shoulder. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, his heart overflowing with gratitude for the life they had built together.

“You know,” Finnick said softly, his voice filled with emotion, “everything I did… everything I went through, was to get to you. To get to this.” His words were a quiet echo of those of his father to his mother, they hold a love that had once resonated with him in a different time—a time when he had fought not just for his own survival, but for the hope of a future filled with love.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I know,” she whispered. “And I’m so glad you did.”

The world outside may have been unpredictable, but within these walls, they had found their sanctuary. They had found peace. And as the laughter of their children filled the room, it was clear that every struggle, every hardship, had led them to this moment—a moment where love was the only thing that mattered.

In that small house by the water, the past was just a memory, and the future was a bright, beautiful canvas waiting to be filled with the colors of their love. Together, they had overcome the darkness, and together, they would continue to build a life full of light, laughter, and endless love.

This was the future they had both wished for and now they have it and can't wait to see where it takes them.

If you enjoyed please react in anyway to let me know 🔱🩵

Also this is my first post here so let me know how I did and if there is anything I could do better.

Thanks for reading ☺️

I'll Carry You Home 🔱🩵

Finnick Odair × Fem!Reader

The arena was a living nightmare, a place where the air was thick with the scent of fear and the distant echoes of the Capitol’s cruelty. The jungle around them was dense, the trees casting long shadows as the sun dipped below the horizon. Finnick’s breathing was shallow, the weight of the day’s horrors pressing down on him as he gently placed Mags against a tree. The old woman sighed softly, her eyes closing in exhaustion. She’d done more than anyone could have asked of her, and now she needed rest.

Finnick’s gaze shifted to you, where you sat a little way off, trying to catch your breath. The two of you exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between you. You nodded, and he made his way over, sitting down beside you. The night was creeping in, the darkness giving you a small measure of privacy from the ever-watching cameras.

“We need to find a way out of here,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath.

“I know,” Finnick murmured, his eyes scanning the perimeter, looking for any signs of danger. “We can’t stay here much longer.”

You both knew the odds were against you. The Capitol had designed this arena to be a death trap, and only one person was supposed to make it out alive. But Finnick wasn’t going to let that happen—not if he could help it.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke so quietly that even the Capitol’s most advanced technology wouldn’t be able to pick up on it. “There’s a way,” he whispered. “When the time is right, we’ll make our move. We just need to be patient.”

You nodded again, the hope in his voice giving you strength. But it was hard to hold on to that hope in a place like this. You could feel the weight of the Capitol’s eyes on you, waiting for you to slip up, to make a mistake that would cost you your life.

Finnick could sense your doubt. He reached out, his hand finding yours in the dim light. “I’ll carry you home,” he whispered, his voice full of quiet determination. “I’ll make sure you’re safe. And when this is all over, we’ll have a future. Together.”

His words hung in the air between you, a promise made in the most impossible of circumstances. You wanted to believe him, needed to believe him. But the arena had a way of stripping you of your dreams, replacing them with cold, hard reality.

As the night deepened, Katniss took the first watch, her eyes sharp as she scanned the darkness for any threats. The rest of you settled down to sleep, though rest was elusive in a place like this. The jungle was alive with sounds, each rustle and snap a potential threat.

You lay close to Finnick, his presence a small comfort in the darkness. He was your anchor, the one thing keeping you grounded in a world that had gone mad. As you closed your eyes, his words echoed in your mind, mingling with the lyrics of a song you’d once heard stories about from District 4, before the Games, before the Capitol had torn your world apart.

“But I’ll carry you home, no matter how far, I’ll carry you home, we’ll never be apart. The darkness can’t hold us, the night can’t keep us down. I’ll carry you home, and we’ll make it somehow.”

Finnick’s hand tightened around yours, as if he could sense your thoughts, and he leaned in closer, his voice barely audible. “I promise,” he whispered. “No matter what it takes, I’ll get you out of here. We’ll make it.”

You nodded, your heart heavy but full of resolve. You knew the road ahead would be long and dangerous, but with Finnick by your side, you felt a glimmer of hope. Together, you would face whatever the arena threw at you. Together, you would survive.

And one day, somehow, you would find your way home.

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Thank you for reading 😊

Capital Princess 🔱🩵 (Part 1)

Finnick Odair × Fem!Reader

TW: mentions of sex and obviously more of the hunger games situations.

Finnick Odair had been brought to the Capitol many times before. His status as a victor from District 4, with his dazzling looks and charming smile, made him a favourite among the Capitol elite. They relished in parading him around like a prize, a jewel in the Capitol's crown. Each time, Finnick knew exactly what was expected of him: to play his part, to be the object of their desires. It was a role he had grown numb to, a twisted extension of his survival in the arena. But this time, as he was escorted through the opulent halls of the mansion, something felt different.

The mansion was grander than any place he'd ever been, with its towering ceilings, marble floors, and walls lined with rare artefacts. Finnick's senses were overwhelmed by the richness of it all, the wealth and power that oozed from every corner. He could almost taste it in the air. This was not just any mansion; this was the residence of President Snow himself.

As he was led through the corridors, Finnick felt a pang of dread. What did the President want with him now? His stomach churned with anxiety, his thoughts spiralling into dark possibilities. And then, as he rounded a corner, he saw her: Y/N Snow, President Snow's granddaughter. She was beautiful, with a gentle face that seemed out of place in a world filled with cruelty. Her eyes were soft and inviting, a stark contrast to the coldness Finnick had come to associate with the Capitol.

Y/N was around Finnick’s age, and there was an air of innocence about her that made him pause. She smiled at him, a sweet, genuine smile that Finnick hadn’t seen in the Capitol for a long time, if ever. His confusion deepened. What could she possibly want with him? His mind immediately jumped to the obvious conclusion, the one he had been conditioned to expect. This is what he was brought here for... sex. It was always for sex.

But as Y/N approached him, her demeanor was calm, almost serene. "Hello, Finnick," she greeted softly, her voice like a melody that cut through the tension in the room. "I’m so glad you’re here."

Finnick’s wariness remained, his body tense, ready for whatever was coming. “I think I know why I’m here,” he said cautiously, his eyes studying her face for any hint of the Capitol's usual twisted intentions.

To his surprise, she shook her head, her expression earnest. “No, we aren't doing that,” she said gently, her words surprising him. “We are going to have fun.”

Fun. Finnick blinked, trying to comprehend the word in this context. Fun wasn’t a concept he associated with the Capitol or its inhabitants, especially not in the context of these summons. He had expected the worst, prepared himself for the usual demeaning routine. But there was something about the way she spoke, the kindness in her voice, that made him pause. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice cautious, his eyes narrowing slightly in confusion.

Y/N’s smile only widened. “I mean, I thought we could just... enjoy ourselves. Talk, maybe play some games, just... be normal for a little while.”

Normal. It was a word that felt foreign to Finnick, especially in a place like this. He wasn’t sure he even remembered what normal was. But he decided to go along with it, his curiosity piqued by this unexpected turn of events. They spent the evening playing simple games, ones that required nothing more than imagination and laughter. They talked about trivial things, shared stories that had nothing to do with the Hunger Games, with death or survival. For a few hours, it was as if they were just two young people, finding comfort in each other’s company, far away from the dark shadows of their reality.

As the night drew to a close, Finnick couldn’t help but ask, “Why did you bring me here, Y/N? I know what they usually want from me... But you, you’re different. Why?”

She looked at him, her eyes full of sincerity. “Because I wanted to be your friend, Finnick,” she said softly. “I’ve seen you on TV, in the Games, and here in the Capitol... I’ve seen how people use you, treat you like you’re just an object. But you’re not. You’re a person. And I want to know the real you, not just the version they show us.”

Finnick was taken aback by her honesty, her kindness. He wasn’t sure how to respond. He had never been seen this way before, not since he won his Games. He was always the victor, the charmer, the puppet on a string. But here, with Y/N, he felt like just Finnick again, even if only for a moment.

As the weeks went by, Finnick and Y/N continued to meet in secret. It became a refuge for both of them, a way to escape the suffocating expectations that surrounded them. They found themselves confiding in each other, sharing their fears and hopes, their dreams and regrets. Y/N would often ask Finnick about District 4, her eyes lighting up with curiosity every time he spoke about his home.

“Tell me more about District 4,” she urged one evening, her voice filled with genuine interest. “What’s it like there? What are the beautiful things? And... the bad things?”

Finnick took a deep breath, his mind drifting back to the shores of his district. “District 4 is... beautiful, in a way that’s hard to describe,” he began, his voice soft with nostalgia. “The sea is the most beautiful thing. The way the sun sets over the water, turning it all to gold... There’s nothing like it. And the smell of the salt in the air, the feel of the sand between your toes. It’s like the whole place is alive, breathing. The people there, they’re tough, but they’re also... kind, in their own way. They look out for each other. We had to, especially after the Games took so many of us.”

Y/N listened intently, her eyes never leaving his face. “And the bad things?” she asked gently, sensing the pain in his voice.

Finnick hesitated, the memories flooding back in a wave of darkness. “The Games... they took so much from us. From me. Even before I won, I lost so much. And after... the Capitol didn’t let me go. They made sure I remembered who was in control. The peacekeepers, the fear... the way we’re forced to live, always under the Capitol’s thumb. That’s the worst part. The way they strip away your freedom, your dignity.”

Y/N reached out, her hand covering his, a silent offer of comfort. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I hate what my grandfather does. I hate what he makes people like you go through. I wish... I wish there was something I could do to change it.”

Finnick looked at her, his eyes searching her face. “What’s it like, being his granddaughter?” he asked, genuinely curious. “Living in this... palace, surrounded by all this wealth and power?”

Y/N sighed, her expression turning sombre. “It’s not as wonderful as it might seem. It’s like living in a cage, Finnick. Everyone is always watching, always judging. People are so fake with me, always saying what they think I want to hear because of who my grandfather is. I can’t trust anyone. And... I hate knowing that everything I have comes from so much suffering, from people like you who have to live in fear and pain because of him.”

Finnick felt a pang of sympathy for her, realising that in her own way, Y/N was as much a prisoner of the Capitol as he was. “You’re different, Y/N,” he said softly. “I never thought I’d find someone like you here, in the heart of all this.”

They continued to meet, their friendship deepening with each encounter. It wasn’t long before friendship turned into something more. There was a warmth in Y/N’s presence that Finnick found himself drawn to, a lightness that made the darkness of his reality a little more bearable. He found himself looking forward to their secret meetings, the stolen moments where they could just be themselves, away from prying eyes.

As their bond grew stronger, so did their feelings for each other. They began to steal glances, their hands brushing accidentally, sending electric shivers down Finnick’s spine. He knew the risks of what they were doing, of letting his heart get involved. But he couldn’t help it. Y/N was a breath of fresh air in a world that had long since suffocated him.

One evening, as they sat under a blanket of stars in a hidden garden within the mansion grounds, Finnick finally gave in to his feelings. He reached out, gently cupping her face with his hand. “Y/N...” he began, his voice barely a whisper. “I... I think I’m falling for you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. She had been waiting to hear those words, fearing them and craving them all at once. “Finnick,” she breathed, her hand covering his. “I feel the same. I’ve tried to fight it, to keep it hidden, but... I can’t anymore.”

Their lips met in a soft, tender kiss, a moment of pure, untainted bliss in a world that seemed intent on tearing them apart. From that night on, they were inseparable, sneaking around the mansion, stealing kisses and sharing whispered confessions. They knew they had to be careful, that if anyone found out, there would be consequences. But for the first time in what felt like forever, Finnick and Y/N felt alive, as if they had found a piece of themselves that had been missing in the darkness. They continued to meet in secret, in hidden corners of the mansion or secluded spots in the lush gardens, their bond growing stronger with every shared smile and stolen kiss.

Finnick had never felt this way before. With Y/N, he wasn’t the Capitol’s puppet, not the charming victor paraded around for entertainment or manipulation. He was just a boy, lost in the eyes of a girl who saw past all of that. She was a sanctuary from the storm that raged both outside and within him. And he knew that she felt the same. In Y/N’s presence, the weight of being President Snow’s granddaughter seemed to lift. She laughed more freely, her smile genuine and unforced, not the polite mask she wore for the rest of the Capitol.

One evening, after a particularly close call with a servant who had nearly caught them together, they found themselves back in their favourite hiding spot—a small, forgotten alcove in the east wing of the mansion, hidden behind a heavy curtain. It was dimly lit by the soft glow of a single candle Y/N had smuggled from her chambers, casting flickering shadows on the walls.

Finnick held Y/N close, his arms wrapped around her as they sat on the cold stone floor. He could feel her heart beating against his chest, a steady rhythm that matched his own. “Y/N,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the silence that surrounded them, “do you ever think about... getting away from here? From all of this?”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight. “Every day,” she admitted softly. “I dream about it. About what it would be like to just... be free. To not be a Snow, not to be trapped by the Capitol’s expectations. To go somewhere no one knows who we are, where we could just be ourselves.”

Finnick’s heart ached at her words. He knew that feeling all too well. The desire to escape, to be free from the chains that bound them both in different ways. “We could,” he murmured, the idea forming in his mind even as he spoke. “We could find a way to leave, together. We could start over somewhere far away from here.”

Y/N’s eyes widened at his suggestion, her breath catching in her throat. “But Finnick,” she began, her voice trembling with a mixture of hope and fear, “how could we? My grandfather... he would never let us go. And even if we managed to escape, he would find us. He always finds a way.”

Finnick knew she was right. President Snow was a man who held onto power with an iron grip, and he would never willingly let his granddaughter go, especially not with a victor from the districts. But the thought of leaving, of being free with Y/N, was a light in the darkness, a hope he hadn’t dared to entertain until now. “We’d have to be careful,” he agreed, “but we could plan it out. Find a way to disappear, to make sure no one knows where we’ve gone. I don’t know how yet, but... I can’t stand the thought of you being trapped here forever. Of us being apart.”

Y/N’s gaze softened, and she reached up to cup Finnick’s face in her hands. “I don’t want to be apart from you either,” she whispered. “You’ve given me something I never thought I’d have—a chance to feel... alive. To be loved for who I am, not for who I’m supposed to be.”

Finnick leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “Then we’ll find a way,” he promised, his voice filled with determination. “For us. For our future.

They spent the next few weeks discussing their plans in hushed tones, mapping out potential routes to escape, and talking about places they could go where the Capitol’s reach might not be as strong. It was dangerous, reckless even, but the idea of freedom kept them going, kept their spirits alive in a world that had tried so hard to crush them.

But with every plan they made, the reality of their situation weighed heavily on them. President Snow’s influence was vast, his reach seemingly endless. And Finnick knew that leaving wouldn’t just be a matter of slipping away unnoticed. It would mean breaking free from the Capitol’s grip entirely, something that no one had ever truly done.

One day, as they sat together on a bench in the garden, Y/N turned to Finnick with a serious expression. “Finnick, there’s something I need to tell you,” she began, her voice low and cautious. “Something I’ve been thinking about for a while now.”

Finnick’s heart skipped a beat, fearing the worst. “What is it?” he asked, his voice steady despite the anxiety bubbling in his chest.

Y/N took a deep breath, her eyes meeting his with a resolve he hadn’t seen before. “I want to talk to my grandfather,” she said slowly. “About you. About us.”

Finnick’s eyes widened in shock. “Y/N, that’s too dangerous. If he finds out—”

“He already knows, Finnick,” she interrupted gently, her voice calm. “He’s not a fool. He’s known something was different for a while now. I’ve seen the way he looks at me, the questions he asks. I think... I think he’s testing me. Seeing how far I’ll go. And I need to show him that I’m not afraid, that I’m not going to just sit back and let him dictate my life forever.”

Finnick felt a surge of fear for her. He knew how ruthless Snow could be, how he used fear and manipulation to maintain control. “Y/N, you don’t know what he’s capable of. He’s not someone you can reason with.”

“I know,” she said, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “But I have to try. For us. For a chance at a future where we don’t have to hide anymore.”

Finnick nodded slowly, his heart heavy with worry but also filled with admiration for her bravery. “Just promise me you’ll be careful,” he whispered, pulling her close. “Promise me you won’t do anything reckless.”

“I promise,” Y/N replied softly, resting her head against his chest. “I won’t lose you, Finnick. Not now. Not ever.”

The next day, Y/N requested a private audience with her grandfather. The tension in the mansion was palpable as she made her way to his study, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew this could go horribly wrong, but she also knew she had to take this risk. For Finnick. For herself.

When she entered the study, President Snow was sitting behind his large, imposing desk, a faint smile playing on his lips as he regarded her. “Y/N, my dear,” he greeted, his voice smooth and deceptively warm. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Y/N took a deep breath, steeling herself. “I want to talk to you about Finnick Odair,” she began, her voice steady despite the fear clawing at her insides. “I care about him, Grandfather. More than I’ve ever cared about anyone. And I know you don’t approve, but... I can’t help how I feel.”

Snow’s smile faded slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. “You’re right, I don’t approve,” he said coldly. “Finnick Odair is a distraction, a toy for the Capitol’s amusement. Nothing more.”

“He’s more than that,” Y/N insisted, her voice gaining strength. “He’s a person, with thoughts and feelings and dreams. Just like you and me. And he deserves to be treated with respect, not as some plaything to be used and discarded.”

Snow’s expression darkened, his gaze icy. “You’re treading on dangerous ground, Y/N,” he warned, his voice a low growl. “Remember who you are. Remember where your loyalties lie.”

“My loyalties are to what’s right,” Y/N shot back, her anger flaring. “And what you’re doing to Finnick, to all the victors, is wrong. It’s cruel. And I won’t be a part of it anymore.”

President Snow’s eyes bore into hers, his jaw clenched in anger. “You forget yourself,” he said quietly, a dangerous edge to his voice. “You forget who gives you everything you have, who protects you from the consequences of your own foolishness.”

Y/N took a step forward, her gaze unwavering. “I’m not a child anymore, Grandfather. And I’m not afraid of you. I love Finnick, and I won’t let you take that away from me.”

There was a long, tense silence as Snow regarded her, his face unreadable. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft but filled with menace. “You’ve made your choice then,” he said slowly. “But know this, Y/N: there are consequences to defiance. And you will face them.”

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, but she refused to back down. “So be it,” she replied firmly. “I’m ready to face whatever comes. As long as I have Finnick by my side.”

Snow’s expression remained cold, calculating. “We shall see,” he murmured, a chilling smile curling at the corners of his lips. “We shall see.”

Y/N left the study, her hands shaking with adrenaline and fear. She knew she had just made a powerful enemy, but she also knew she had done the right thing. And no matter what happened next, she wouldn’t regret it.

Y/N returned to Finnick's side, her resolve hardening with every step she took away from her grandfather's study. She had confronted President Snow and spoken her truth, and though the consequences loomed over her, she felt a sense of freedom she hadn't known before. When she saw Finnick waiting for her in the hidden alcove, the worry in his eyes evident, she couldn’t help but smile despite everything.

“What happened?” Finnick asked, his voice tense with concern as he pulled her into his arms. “Are you alright?”

Y/N nodded, resting her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “I told him,” she whispered. “I told him about us, about how I feel. He wasn’t happy, but I don’t care. I’m tired of hiding. I’m tired of being afraid.”

Finnick’s arms tightened around her, his heart swelling with a mixture of fear and admiration. “You’re so brave, Y/N,” he murmured. “I just hope... I hope he doesn’t do something to hurt you because of this.”

Y/N pulled back slightly to look up at him, her eyes filled with determination. “Let him try,” she said fiercely. “I’m not afraid of him anymore. We’ll find a way to be together, Finnick. No matter what.”

But as the days turned into weeks, the reality of their situation weighed heavily on both of them. President Snow had made it clear that he would not tolerate any disobedience, and Y/N knew he would be watching her even more closely now. They had to be more careful than ever, stealing moments together when they could, always aware that the Capitol’s eyes were on them.

Then, the announcement came. The 75th Hunger Games, the third Quarter Quell, would be different from any that had come before. In a cruel twist, the Capitol decreed that the tributes would be chosen from the pool of existing victors, pulling them back into the nightmare they had fought so hard to escape. Finnick’s name was drawn from the pool of District 4 victors, sealing his fate.

Y/N’s heart shattered when she heard the news. The man she loved, the one who had already endured so much, was being sent back into the arena. She could hardly breathe as she watched Finnick’s face on the screen, his usual calm facade masking the turmoil she knew he felt inside. She knew that President Snow had orchestrated this, his way of punishing them both for their defiance.

Y/N managed to find a way to see Finnick before he left for the Capitol, sneaking into his quarters under the cover of night. When he saw her, he pulled her into a fierce embrace, holding her as if he might never let go. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “This is all my fault. If I hadn’t—”

“No,” Finnick interrupted gently, pulling back to look into her eyes. “This isn’t your fault, Y/N. This is Snow. He’s doing this to punish us, to remind us who’s in control. But we can’t let him win. I’m going to go into that arena, and I’m going to fight. Not just for me, but for you. For us.

Tears filled Y/N’s eyes as she cupped his face in her hands, her thumb brushing away the single tear that escaped down his cheek. “Just promise me you’ll come back,” she whispered, her voice filled with a mixture of desperation and hope. “Promise me you’ll survive this.”

Finnick leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers. “I promise,” he whispered. “I’ll do whatever it takes to come back to you.”

As they shared a final, lingering kiss, Y/N knew that their love had become a beacon of hope in a world that was intent on breaking them. No matter what happened, no matter how far apart they were, they would find a way back to each other.

---

The 75th Hunger Games began with the fanfare and brutality the Capitol was known for. Finnick entered the arena with a resolve hardened by the promise he made to Y/N. The arena was a nightmare, a maze of dangers designed to test the victors’ endurance and break their spirits. But Finnick fought with everything he had, driven by the thought of Y/N and the future they dreamed of together.

Meanwhile, in the shadows of the Capitol, Y/N’s resolve was put to the test. She had been approached by members of the rebellion, people who had seen her defiance against her grandfather and believed she could be an asset to their cause. At first, she had been hesitant, fearing the repercussions of getting involved in something so dangerous. But as she watched the Games unfold, saw the horrors that Finnick and the other tributes were being put through once again, she knew she couldn’t stay silent any longer.

Y/N joined the rebellion, using her position within the Capitol to gather information and help coordinate efforts to undermine the Games. She became a vital part of the underground network, her knowledge of the Capitol’s inner workings proving invaluable. She worked tirelessly, driven by the hope that if they could just bring down President Snow, they might finally have a chance at a life free from the Capitol’s tyranny.

As the Games wore on, the rebellion gained momentum, their ranks swelling with those who had grown tired of living under the Capitol’s oppressive rule. News of their efforts began to spread, and soon, the world was watching as a new hope began to take root.

Then came the moment that would change everything. The rebellion had managed to orchestrate an attack on the arena, a daring move to rescue the remaining tributes and strike a blow against the Capitol. Finnick was among those rescued, and as he was pulled from the arena and brought to safety, his thoughts immediately turned to Y/N.

He was taken to District 13, the hidden stronghold of the rebellion, where he was met with cheers and relief. But all he could think about was finding Y/N, holding her in his arms, and finally being free from the Capitol’s grasp.

When Y/N arrived at District 13, her heart raced with anticipation. She had heard that the rescue mission had been a success, that Finnick was among those saved. As she stepped off the transport, her eyes scanned the crowd, searching desperately for him. And then, she saw him.

Finnick pushed through the crowd, his eyes locking onto hers with a look of pure relief and joy. He reached her in a few long strides, sweeping her into his arms and holding her close, as if he were afraid she might disappear if he let go.

“You’re here,” he breathed, his voice filled with disbelief and wonder. “You’re really here.”

Y/N nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks as she clung to him. “I’m here,” she whispered. “I told you I’d find a way.”

They held each other tightly, the weight of the past months melting away in each other’s arms. The war was far from over, and there were still battles to be fought. But for now, in this moment, they had each other, and that was all that mattered.

Together, they were a force to be reckoned with, a symbol of hope and resistance in a world that had known only fear and oppression for too long. And as they stood there, surrounded by the flickering lights of District 13, they knew that no matter what came next, they would face it together, side by side, ready to fight for a future where they could finally be free.

Bit of a long one, hope you enjoyed

And thanks for reading 😊

Future Worth Fighting For 🔱🩵 (Part 2)

Finnick Odair × Fem!Reader

TW: Mentions of smut and violence, child birth.

After the rescue from the 75th Hunger Games, Finnick and Y/N found themselves safely in District 13. It was a stark contrast to the luxurious Capitol, but they felt a deep sense of relief in the underground base. They were surrounded by allies, people who wanted to fight for a better future, free from the tyranny of President Snow.

Each day in District 13 was filled with meetings, planning sessions, and training exercises. Y/N and Finnick threw themselves into the work, determined to help in any way they could. The rebellion needed every resource and every bit of strength they could muster. But even in the middle of the hustle and urgency, Y/N couldn’t help but feel the weight of her name dragging her down. Despite her efforts, she could hear the whispers, see the mistrust in some people’s eyes whenever they glanced her way.

At night, when the two of them were finally alone, her fears often bubbled to the surface. One particular night, as Finnick held her close, she spoke her worries aloud.

"Sometimes I feel like I'll never be free of my grandfather's shadow," Y/N whispered, her voice trembling. "No matter what I do, I’ll always be a Snow. People will always see me as his granddaughter."

Finnick tightened his arms around her, sensing the depth of her despair. "You are so much more than just a name, Y/N," he said softly. "You’re brave, and you’ve risked so much to fight against everything your grandfather stands for. But if that name makes you feel trapped, we can change that."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise and hope. "What do you mean?"

Finnick took her hands in his, his gaze steady and full of love. "Marry me," he said. "Take my name, and leave Snow behind. Be Y/N Odair. We’ll make our own legacy together, one built on love, not fear."

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, but this time they were tears of joy. She nodded, a smile breaking through the fear. “Yes, Finnick. I would love that. I would love to be your wife.”

In a quiet and private ceremony the next day, surrounded by their closest friends in District 13, Finnick and Y/N were married. The room was small and modest, but it was filled with warmth and love. As they exchanged their vows, they knew that this was the beginning of something new and beautiful, a chance to start fresh, away from the shadows of their pasts.

After the ceremony, they returned to their small room, where Finnick gently closed the door behind them. He looked at Y/N with a mix of love and excitement. “Mrs. Odair,” he whispered, savoring the sound of it.

Y/N blushed, her heart fluttering at the new name. “I love how that sounds,” she replied, stepping closer to him. She reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. The kiss was soft and tender at first, but it quickly deepened as they pressed closer together, letting go of all the tension and fear that had built up over the past few months.

They moved together to the bed, where they shared a night of passion, their lovemaking filled with love and relief, a way to affirm their connection in the midst of so much uncertainty. They held each other close, whispering words of love and comfort, finding solace in each other’s arms.

The next morning, Finnick had to prepare for his departure to the Capitol with the rest of the squad. The rebellion needed him, and they both knew this mission was crucial. As he packed his things, Y/N watched him, trying to keep her emotions in check. She knew how important this was, but the thought of him going back to the Capitol, back into danger, terrified her.

“Promise me you’ll be careful,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Promise me you’ll come back to me.”

Finnick stopped packing and turned to her, his expression serious and filled with love. “I promise, Y/N. I’ll come back to you. No matter what happens, I’ll find my way back to you.”

They shared one last, lingering kiss before he left, a promise of what was to come. Y/N watched him go with a heavy heart, trying to stay strong.

A few days after Finnick’s departure, Y/N began to feel unusually tired and nauseous. At first, she brushed it off as stress from the situation, but as the days passed, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different. She decided to visit the medics in District 13 to get checked out, hoping it was just the strain of everything that had been happening.

When the medic gave her the news, Y/N was stunned. She was pregnant. A rush of emotions flooded through her—joy, fear, hope, and anxiety. She hadn’t expected this, especially not now, with Finnick in the Capitol. But as she thought about the tiny life growing inside her, she felt a deep sense of happiness and love.

She knew she had to tell Finnick, but the logistics were complicated with him in the Capitol on a mission. She wrote a letter, pouring her heart out, telling him about the baby, about how much she missed him, and how she couldn’t wait for him to come back so they could start this new chapter together.

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N waited anxiously for word from Finnick, hoping he was safe, hoping he would return to her soon. She placed a protective hand over her belly, whispering to her unborn child. “Your daddy is coming back to us,” she said softly. “He promised, and he never breaks his promises.”

As the rebellion moved forward, Y/N held onto that hope, knowing that whatever happened next, she and Finnick were now bound together in a way that went beyond just their love for each other. They were a family, and that gave her the strength to keep going, to keep fighting, until they were all together again.

Weeks passed, and Y/N’s anxiety grew with each day that brought no news of Finnick. She was surrounded by people in District 13 who were kind and supportive, but none could ease the ache of missing her husband or the uncertainty that weighed heavily on her heart. She found herself constantly touching her belly, a small, unconscious gesture of reassurance to herself and her unborn child.

One morning, Y/N was sitting in the mess hall, trying to eat breakfast despite the constant nausea, when she overheard a group of rebels discussing the latest news from the Capitol. Her ears perked up, her heart racing at the mention of a mission that had just returned. She quickly abandoned her food and hurried over to the group, her breath catching in her throat.

“Did they make it back?” she asked, her voice trembling with a mix of hope and fear. “Did everyone return safely?”

One of the rebels, a woman named Lyme who had become a friend to Y/N, turned to her with a gentle smile. “They’re just arriving now. I think you should go see for yourself.”

Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. She dashed out of the mess hall, her feet barely touching the ground as she ran through the halls toward the entrance where the squad would be coming in. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mix of fear and anticipation coursing through her veins.

When she reached the entrance, she saw the group of returning soldiers, weary and battle-worn, stepping out of a large transport vehicle. She scanned their faces frantically, searching for the one she longed to see the most. Then, through the crowd, she spotted him—Finnick, looking tired but alive, his hair tousled and face smudged with dirt.

Y/N let out a sob of relief and ran toward him. Finnick turned at the sound, and when he saw her, his face broke into a smile, the kind that reached his eyes and made them shine. He opened his arms just in time to catch her as she flung herself at him, holding her tight as if he never wanted to let go.

“Y/N,” he murmured against her hair, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m here. I’m here, love.”

Tears streamed down Y/N’s face as she clung to him, her body shaking with relief. “I was so scared, Finnick,” she whispered. “I was so scared you wouldn’t come back to us.”

Finnick pulled back slightly, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Us?"

Y/N nodded, a small smile playing on her lips despite her tears. She took his hand and placed it gently on her belly. “I’m pregnant, Finnick. We’re going to have a baby.”

For a moment, Finnick just stared at her, his eyes wide with shock and then filling with a joy she had never seen before. “A baby?” he repeated softly, as if testing the word on his tongue. Then his face broke into a radiant grin, and he lifted Y/N off the ground, spinning her around. “A baby! Y/N, that’s… that’s amazing!”

They laughed together, a sound filled with pure happiness that echoed in the hall. Finnick set her down gently and cupped her face in his hands, kissing her deeply, passionately, as if trying to pour all his love and relief into that one moment.

When they finally pulled apart, Finnick rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed as he took in the news. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered. “I’m going to be a dad.

Y/N smiled, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. “You’re going to be an amazing dad, Finnick. And we’re going to be a family.”

The days that followed were a whirlwind of planning and adjusting to the news. Finnick was more attentive than ever, constantly checking on Y/N and making sure she was comfortable. They spent their evenings together, talking about their hopes and dreams for their child, imagining a future where they were all free from the Capitol’s grasp.

As the rebellion pressed on, Finnick and Y/N found solace in each other. Despite the dangers and uncertainties that lay ahead, they held onto their hope and the love that had grown between them. Finnick’s resolve to fight was stronger than ever now that he knew he had a family to protect, a future to build.

One quiet evening, as they lay in their small bunk, Finnick rested his hand on Y/N’s growing belly, feeling the faint flutter of movement beneath his palm. “Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?” he asked softly, a smile tugging at his lips.

Y/N shrugged, a playful glint in her eyes. “I don’t know, but I have a feeling it’s going to be just as stubborn as you.”

Finnick chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “Well, if they’re anything like you, they’ll be perfect.”

Y/N leaned into him, her heart full. “Do you ever think about what life will be like after all this?” she asked quietly. “After the war, when we’re free?”

Finnick nodded, his expression turning thoughtful. “I think about it all the time. I think about raising our child by the sea, teaching them how to swim, to fish… giving them a life we never had.”

Y/N smiled at the thought, picturing their little family by the ocean, far from the darkness of their pasts. “I like that,” she said softly. “I like that a lot.”

They fell asleep that night wrapped in each other’s arms, dreaming of the future they would build together. Finnick’s hand never left her belly, a silent promise that he would always be there for her and their child, no matter what.

As the rebellion continued, Finnick fought with renewed strength and determination, knowing that he had a family to come back to. And Y/N, with the love and support of those around her, stayed strong, waiting for the day when they could finally live in peace, free from the shadows of their pasts and the tyranny of President Snow.

With the end of the rebellion approaching and the Capitol’s power waning, Y/N knew that their time would come soon. A time when they could finally be a family, living in a world where their child could grow up free, surrounded by love and happiness.

As the weeks turned into months, Y/N’s belly continued to grow, and with it, the anticipation of meeting their child. Or so they thought—during a routine check-up in District 13's small medical wing, Y/N and Finnick received an unexpected surprise.

“You’re having twins,” the doctor announced with a gentle smile, her voice echoing in the small examination room.

Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief, her hand instinctively reaching for Finnick’s. “Twins?” she repeated, her voice a mix of awe and shock.

Finnick blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Twins?” he echoed, his eyes darting between the doctor and Y/N. “As in… two babies?”

The doctor chuckled softly at their bewilderment. “Yes, two babies. It’s not uncommon, especially considering your family histories.” She pointed to the small screen displaying the ultrasound image, where two tiny forms could be seen nestled close together. “See here? Two heartbeats. Two little ones growing strong.”

Finnick’s expression shifted from shock to pure, unadulterated joy. He squeezed Y/N’s hand, a broad grin spreading across his face. “Two of them,” he murmured, his voice filled with wonder. “We’re going to have two babies.”

Y/N’s initial surprise quickly melted into excitement. “Two,” she whispered, a smile breaking across her lips as she gazed at the screen. Tears of happiness welled in her eyes. “We’re going to have twins, Finnick.”

He leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead, his heart swelling with love. “Two little ones to love and protect,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I couldn’t be happier.”

The news of the twins seemed to breathe new life into both Finnick and Y/N. Amidst the chaos of the ongoing rebellion, the thought of not one but two babies filled them with a renewed sense of purpose. It was as if the universe had given them a double reason to fight, to survive, and to hope for a better future.

---

As Y/N’s pregnancy progressed, Finnick became more attentive than ever. He was always by her side, whether it was helping her navigate the narrow halls of District 13 or simply holding her hand during their nightly talks about the future. He often spoke to her growing belly, whispering sweet nothings to the twins, promising them a life full of love and happiness.

But the rebellion showed no signs of slowing down. The battles grew fiercer, and the risks increased. Finnick continued to join the other soldiers on missions, his resolve unwavering. Each time he left, Y/N’s heart would clench with fear, but she knew that Finnick was fighting not just for their future but for the future of Panem.

One morning, just before Finnick was set to leave for another mission, Y/N woke up with a sense of urgency. She placed a hand on her belly, feeling the twins shift slightly. “Finnick,” she whispered, her voice soft but steady. “I need you to promise me something.”

Finnick, who had been lacing up his boots, looked up, concern etching his features. “Anything, love,” he replied, moving to sit beside her on the bed.

Y/N took his hands in hers, squeezing them gently. “Promise me you’ll come back to us. No matter what happens out there, you’ll come back to me and our babies. They need their father. And I… I need you.”

Finnick’s expression softened, and he leaned in to press a tender kiss to her lips. “I promise, Y/N,” he said firmly. “I’ll always come back to you. To all three of you.”

---

The days dragged on after Finnick left for his mission, each one longer than the last. Y/N kept herself busy helping with the rebellion’s efforts in District 13, but her mind was always with Finnick. She took comfort in the knowledge that he was fighting for them, for their future, but the fear of losing him never fully left her.

A few days after Finnick’s departure, Y/N was in the middle of a strategy meeting when a sudden wave of dizziness washed over her. She steadied herself against the table, her breath coming in short, quick gasps.

“Y/N, are you alright?” asked Plutarch, looking at her with concern.

She nodded, forcing a smile. “I’m fine, just… tired, I think. I should probably rest.”

As she made her way back to her quarters, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different. Her heart raced with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. Once inside, she sat down on the bed, her hands instinctively moving to her belly. She felt a flutter, then a stronger kick—a reassuring sign that the twins were active and well.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through her abdomen, and she gasped. It wasn’t the normal discomfort she’d grown accustomed to; this was something else. Fear gripped her as another wave of pain hit, more intense this time.

She quickly reached for the small intercom by her bed and called for medical assistance. Within minutes, a team of medics arrived and rushed her to the medical wing.

“What’s happening?” Y/N asked, panic rising in her chest. “Are the babies okay?”

The head medic, a kind woman named Dr. Aurelius, gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s alright, Y/N. We’re going to check on the babies now. Try to stay calm.”

After a few tense minutes, an ultrasound confirmed what Y/N had feared: she was going into premature labor. “It’s too early,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. “They’re not ready yet.”

Dr. Aurelius squeezed her hand. “We’re going to do everything we can, Y/N. The twins are strong, and so are you. Just keep breathing, okay?”

Y/N nodded, her mind racing. She wished more than anything that Finnick were there, holding her hand, whispering words of comfort. But she knew he was out there fighting, and she needed to be strong for their children.

As the hours passed, Y/N fought through the pain, drawing strength from the thought of Finnick and their future together. She kept her focus on the sound of the twins’ heartbeats, steady and strong, echoing in the room like a promise of hope.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the first baby was born—a small but fierce little girl with a strong set of lungs. The sound of her cries filled the room, bringing tears of relief to Y/N’s eyes.

A few moments later, her brother followed—a tiny boy with a surprisingly calm demeanor, his little fists clenched as if ready to take on the world. Y/N laughed through her tears, overwhelmed with emotion as the twins were placed in her arms.

“They’re perfect,” she whispered, gazing down at their tiny faces. “Just perfect.”

The medics worked quickly to ensure both babies were healthy, wrapping them in soft blankets and placing them in Y/N’s arms. She held them close, her heart swelling with love and gratitude.

“Finnick,” she murmured softly, looking down at their beautiful twins. “We did it. They’re here.”

---

Meanwhile, Finnick was still in the field, completely unaware of the miracle that had just taken place. He fought with a renewed ferocity, driven by the promise he had made to Y/N and the future he was determined to build for their family.

It wasn’t until he returned to District 13 a few days later, exhausted but victorious, that he learned the news. As soon as he stepped off the transport vehicle, he was greeted by a smiling Plutarch, who clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Congratulations, Finnick,” Plutarch said with a broad grin. “You’re a father. To twins.”

Finnick’s heart nearly stopped. “Twins?” he repeated, his voice filled with awe. “Y/N… are they…?”

Plutarch nodded, his smile softening. “They’re all fine, Finnick. Y/N and the babies are in the medical wing. Go see them.”

Without another word, Finnick sprinted through the halls, his heart pounding with a mix of excitement and fear. When he burst into the medical wing, he saw Y/N sitting up in bed, holding two tiny bundles in her arms. Her face lit up when she saw him, tears of joy streaming down her cheeks.

“Finnick,” she breathed, her voice trembling with emotion. “Meet our children.”

He approached the bed slowly, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of his wife and their newborn twins. “They’re… they’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

Y/N smiled, her heart overflowing with love as she gazed up at him. “They have your eyes,” she said softly, handing him their daughter.

Finnick took his daughter in his arms, tears filling his eyes as he looked down at her tiny face. “Hello, little one,” he murmured, his voice breaking. “I’m your daddy.”

The baby girl stared up at him with wide eyes, her tiny fingers curling around his thumb. Finnick felt his heart swell with an indescribable love, a feeling he had never known before.

He then looked at his son, who was cradled in Y/N’s other arm, and reached out to gently stroke his cheek. “And you,” he said softly, his voice filled with wonder. “You’re my son.”

Y/N watched him with a smile, her heart full. “We have a family now, Finnick,” she whispered. “A real family.”

Finnick leaned down to kiss her forehead, his tears mingling with hers. “Yes, we do,” he murmured, Finnick’s words hung in the air, filled with promise and hope. He sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed on their newborn twins. The weight of everything they had been through seemed to fade away, replaced by the overwhelming joy of this new chapter in their lives.

Y/N could see the mixture of relief and love in Finnick's eyes, the way he looked at their children as if he had never seen anything so precious. She knew the horrors he had witnessed, the pain he had endured, and yet here he was, smiling down at their babies with a tenderness she had rarely seen in him.

“They’re so small,” Finnick said softly, still marveling at the tiny life in his arms. “And perfect.”

“They’re strong, just like their father,” Y/N replied with a smile. “And just as beautiful.”

Finnick chuckled, his eyes never leaving the twins. “They get their beauty from their mother,” he insisted, his voice full of affection. He reached out to brush a strand of hair from Y/N’s face, his touch gentle and reassuring. “You’ve given me so much, Y/N. More than I ever thought I could have.”

Y/N’s heart swelled with emotion. She had known love before, but nothing compared to the love she felt now, surrounded by her family. “We’ve given each other everything,” she said softly, leaning into his touch. “A life, a family... a future.”

Finnick nodded, his eyes brimming with tears. He looked back at their children, his heart full to bursting. “I promise I’ll do everything I can to protect you all,” he whispered. “To give you the life you deserve.”

Y/N squeezed his hand, her grip firm and reassuring. “We’ll do it together,” she said. “No matter what comes next, we’ll face it as a family.”

For a moment, the world outside seemed to disappear. The rebellion, the Capitol, all of it felt like a distant memory. Here, in this small room, there was only love and hope, and the promise of a future worth fighting for.

They spent the rest of the day together, wrapped in the quiet comfort of their new family. Finnick held his children close, whispering stories of District 4 and all the things he wanted to show them. Y/N watched, her heart swelling with love and gratitude. She knew that they had a long road ahead, but for the first time in a long time, she felt truly at peace.

---

As the days passed, Finnick and Y/N settled into their new routine. District 13, though stark and austere, became a safe haven for them—a place where they could start anew, away from the horrors of the past. The twins, whom they named Aurora and Atlas, brought light and laughter into their lives.

Finnick became a doting father, always eager to help with feedings, diaper changes, and even the sleepless nights. He would sing lullabies from his childhood, his deep voice soothing the twins into peaceful slumber. Y/N found herself falling even more in love with him, seeing a side of Finnick she had never seen before—a side so tender and nurturing, it made her heart ache with happiness.

Y/N, too, flourished in her new role as a mother. She found strength she never knew she had, drawing from the love she felt for her children and her husband. The days were long and often exhausting, but they were also filled with moments of pure joy. Each smile, each laugh, each small milestone was a reminder of the love and resilience that had brought them here.

But as much as they cherished their quiet moments together, the reality of the rebellion was never far away. Finnick continued to be involved in the efforts, training new recruits and preparing for the battles that lay ahead. Y/N, too, did what she could, helping with strategy and using her unique position to gather intelligence.

One evening, as they sat together after putting the twins to bed, Finnick spoke softly, his voice filled with resolve. “I know we’ve found some peace here, but there’s still so much to be done,” he said. “The Capitol won’t give up easily, and we need to be ready for whatever comes next.”

Y/N nodded, her expression serious. “I know,” she replied. “But we’ll face it together, just like we always have. For Aurora and Atlas. For the future we want for them.”

Finnick smiled, his heart swelling with pride. “For them,” he agreed. “And for everyone who deserves to be free.”

They sat in silence for a moment, taking comfort in each other’s presence. The road ahead would be long and difficult, but they knew they could face it as long as they had each other. Their love, forged in the fires of hardship and loss, had only grown stronger. And now, with their children by their side, they had more reason than ever to keep fighting.

Y/N rested her head on Finnick’s shoulder, her heart full of hope. “Whatever happens,” she murmured, “we’ll make it through. Together.”

Finnick wrapped his arm around her, holding her close. “Together,” he echoed, his voice filled with determination. “Always.”

And with that, they faced the future—uncertain but hopeful, ready to fight for the world they wanted for their children, for each other, and for all those who had suffered under the Capitol’s rule. In the heart of the rebellion, amidst the chaos and the struggle, they had found their reason to hope, to love, and to dream of a better tomorrow.

Another long one hope you enjoyed

Thank you for reading 😊

A Promise Always Kept 🔱🩵 (Part 3)

Finnick Odair × Fem!Reader

As the weeks turned into months, the rebellion's momentum began to accelerate. The districts, inspired by the victories and the courage of those who had already risen, started to rally together with newfound strength and determination. Acts of defiance spread like wildfire, with citizens from all walks of life joining the cause. The rebels grew bolder, staging attacks on Capitol supply lines, sabotaging infrastructure, and spreading messages of hope and resistance.

District 13 became the nerve center of the rebellion. Inside its fortified walls, plans were drawn, alliances were formed, and soldiers were trained. Finnick continued to play a vital role, not just as a mentor and strategist but as a symbol of resilience and hope. His presence was a powerful reminder of what they were fighting for—a future where the Capitol no longer held the whip, where families could live free from fear.

Y/N, alongside Finnick, became more involved in the strategic planning. Her insights into the Capitol’s inner workings, combined with her growing network of informants, proved invaluable. She knew the delicate balance required to keep the rebellion strong while avoiding unnecessary losses. She coordinated with other districts, ensuring that supplies and reinforcements were strategically placed to support the ongoing efforts.

The twins, Aurora and Atlas, grew quickly, their presence a constant source of joy and motivation for their parents. Every time Finnick and Y/N looked into their children’s eyes, they were reminded of the stakes. The world they were fighting to build wasn’t just for them—it was for the next generation, for all the children who deserved to grow up free.

The intensity of the rebellion increased. Infiltrators from District 13, including Y/N, began to smuggle out Capitol citizens who were sympathetic to the rebellion’s cause, slowly building a resistance within the Capitol itself. Finnick led several successful missions into enemy territory, each one bringing them closer to the heart of Snow’s regime. The Capitol’s forces, once thought to be invincible, began to show cracks. Their propaganda no longer held the same sway as before, and even the peacekeepers seemed less resolute in their mission.

Then came the tipping point—the moment the rebellion had been waiting for. District 2, the Capitol’s military stronghold, was finally within reach. Capturing it would be a devastating blow to President Snow’s power. The rebels had been planning for this for months, coordinating a massive assault that would require every ounce of their strength and resolve.

Finnick was chosen to lead a key strike team, his tactical skills and knowledge of the Capitol making him the perfect choice. Y/N, despite her desire to fight alongside him, knew she needed to stay in District 13, coordinating efforts and ensuring their plans would go off without a hitch.

The night before the attack, Finnick and Y/N sat together in their quarters, the weight of what was to come heavy on their minds. They held each other close, the twins sleeping soundly in the next room.

“I wish I could be there with you,” Y/N whispered, her voice tinged with worry.

Finnick kissed her forehead softly. “I know,” he said. “But you’re needed here. You’re the heart of this rebellion, Y/N. I’ll be back, I promise.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Just... be safe. For them. For us.”

“I will,” Finnick promised. “For all of us.”

The next morning, Finnick’s team set out, their faces grim with determination. As they approached District 2, they could see the signs of a city bracing for war—peacekeepers on high alert, barricades blocking the streets, and the faint hum of defensive mechanisms being prepared.

But the rebels were ready. The assault on District 2 was fierce and swift. Explosions rocked the mountainside, sending plumes of smoke into the sky. Finnick led his team through the chaos, navigating the labyrinthine tunnels and bunkers that protected the heart of the Capitol’s military might.

Inside District 13, Y/N worked tirelessly, coordinating the battle from afar. She directed reinforcements, adjusted strategies on the fly, and kept a constant line of communication with the other districts. Her calm, steady presence was a beacon of hope, even as the fighting intensified.

After hours of brutal combat, the rebels finally breached District 2’s defenses. Finnick’s team, having taken out several key positions, helped to turn the tide. With the peacekeepers overwhelmed and the citizens of District 2 rising up in rebellion, the Capitol forces began to crumble. In a matter of days, the last of the Capitol’s strongholds outside the city itself was under rebel control.

The victory was a turning point. With District 2 secured, the path to the Capitol was clear. The rebellion moved quickly, consolidating their forces and preparing for the final push. Y/N and Finnick, now reunited, threw themselves into the preparations. They knew that this was their chance to end it once and for all.

And then, the order came: the march on the Capitol would begin. The combined forces of the rebellion, bolstered by defectors and inspired citizens, surged forward. The Capitol, once an untouchable fortress, was now vulnerable, its defenses weakened, its spirit broken.

Finnick and Y/N fought side by side as the rebels stormed the city. The streets, once filled with the Capitol’s opulence, became a battleground. Finnick’s agility and strength, honed from years of survival, served him well as he took down peacekeepers and cleared a path for the advancing rebels. Y/N, her mind sharp and focused, led her squad with precision, using her knowledge of the Capitol to outmaneuver their enemies.

As they pushed deeper into the city, they could see the signs of a crumbling regime. The citizens, tired of oppression, began to rise up, throwing whatever they could find at the peacekeepers and shouting for freedom. The sound of their voices, crying out for change, filled the air.

Finally, they reached the heart of the Capitol: Snow’s mansion. The grand structure, once a symbol of power and fear, now stood as the last vestige of a dying empire. The rebels surrounded it, their numbers vast and unwavering.

Inside, President Snow was cornered, his back against the wall. The rebellion had come to collect on all the years of suffering he had inflicted. As the rebels closed in, Snow was captured, his reign of terror finally brought to an end.

The cheers of the rebels filled the air as Snow was taken away. The war was over. The Capitol had fallen. The rebellion had won.

Finnick and Y/N, exhausted but triumphant, stood together amidst the crowd, holding hands. They looked out over the city, now free from the shadow of tyranny. The future, once uncertain and bleak, now seemed filled with endless possibilities.

Y/N squeezed Finnick’s hand, a tear of relief and joy slipping down her cheek. “We did it,” she whispered. “It’s over.”

Finnick smiled, pulling her close. “It’s over,” he echoed, his voice full of emotion. “And now, we can finally start living.”

As they stood there, surrounded by their comrades and the echoes of freedom ringing in their ears, Y/N knew that this was just the beginning. The world they had fought so hard to create was finally within reach—a world where their children could grow up free, without fear, without the Capitol’s cruelty.

A world worth fighting for, and one they were ready to build, together.

The rebellion’s victory over the Capitol brought about a wave of change that rippled across Panem. With President Snow captured and the symbols of his regime dismantled, the districts began to rebuild from the ashes of oppression. A sense of hope spread throughout the nation as people embraced the freedom they had long yearned for, despite the challenges that lay ahead.

Y/N and Finnick remained in the Capitol for some time, helping with the transition. The city that had once embodied luxury and excess was now a hub of activity as the rebellion leaders worked tirelessly to establish a new government—one built on justice and equality. Finnick, with his charisma and experience, became a key figure in these efforts, bridging the gap between the districts and the Capitol citizens who were eager to contribute to the new Panem.

Meanwhile, Y/N took on a different role, helping to dismantle the oppressive systems that had upheld Snow's reign for so long. Her unique position—being the granddaughter of the former president—gave her a powerful platform to advocate for reform. She used her influence to push for policies that would heal the wounds of the past and ensure that the horrors of the Hunger Games would never be repeated.

Despite their responsibilities, Finnick and Y/N never lost sight of what was most important to them: their family. The twins, Aurora and Atlas, grew quickly, their laughter and innocent curiosity a constant reminder of why they had fought so hard. Every day brought new milestones—Aurora’s first word, Atlas’s first steps—and each one was a precious moment of joy that brightened even the darkest days of rebuilding.

As the weeks turned into months, the remnants of the old regime slowly faded away. Snow was tried publicly, his crimes laid bare for all of Panem to see. The trial was a cathartic moment for many, a final chapter in the book of pain that had been the Capitol's rule. Snow, once a figure of immense power and fear, now seemed small and weak, his influence reduced to nothing. When the verdict of guilt was pronounced, there was no anger, no bitterness—only a collective sigh of relief.

One evening, after a particularly long day of meetings and planning sessions, Finnick and Y/N returned to their temporary quarters in the Capitol, exhausted but content. The twins were already asleep, their soft breathing filling the quiet room. Y/N sat down heavily on the bed, her thoughts drifting as she stared out the window at the city below.

Finnick joined her, slipping an arm around her shoulders. “Penny for your thoughts?” he asked, his voice soft.

Y/N smiled, leaning into his embrace. “Just thinking about how far we’ve come. It still feels like a dream sometimes, you know? That we’re finally free.”

Finnick nodded, his gaze following hers out to the twinkling lights of the Capitol. “It’s a good dream,” he replied. “And one we made real."

She turned to him, her eyes filled with emotion. “We did,” she agreed. “But there’s still so much to do. So many scars to heal.”

Finnick squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “We’ll heal them. Together. Panem is stronger than it’s ever been, and so are we.”

Y/N took a deep breath, her heart swelling with both pride and gratitude. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you,” she said softly. “You’re my strength, Finnick.”

“And you’re mine,” he replied, pressing a kiss to her temple. “We’re a team. Always have been, always will be.”

As the new government took shape, Y/N and Finnick made a decision: they would return to District 4, their home. They had given so much to the rebellion, and now it was time to focus on their family and their community. The idea of returning to the ocean, of raising their children by the water's edge, filled them with a sense of peace and anticipation.

The journey back to District 4 was long but filled with excitement. As they traveled, Finnick shared stories of their home with Aurora and Atlas, painting vivid pictures of the sparkling sea and the smell of salt in the air. Y/N watched him with a smile, her heart full as she imagined the life they would build together in the place that had always held Finnick's heart.

When they finally arrived, District 4 welcomed them with open arms. The community, still reeling from the changes brought by the rebellion, saw in them symbols of hope and renewal. Finnick and Y/N threw themselves into their new life with gusto, helping to rebuild the district and foster a sense of unity and purpose.

The twins thrived in their new environment, their days filled with the simple pleasures of childhood—chasing seagulls on the beach, splashing in the waves, and learning to fish with their father. Finnick taught them how to swim, his laughter ringing out over the water as he guided them through their first strokes. Y/N watched from the shore, her heart full of contentment as she saw her family so happy and free.

Their life in District 4 was peaceful, yet filled with purpose. Finnick continued to work closely with the new government, traveling to the Capitol when needed, but always returning home to his family. Y/N became involved in education, helping to develop programs for the children of the district that emphasized the importance of unity, compassion, and understanding.

As the years passed, Panem continued to heal. The districts, once isolated and distrustful of one another, began to forge new bonds of friendship and cooperation. The Hunger Games were a distant memory, replaced by a shared vision of a brighter future.

Y/N and Finnick often found themselves reflecting on the past—their struggles, their losses, and their victories. But more than anything, they focused on the present, cherishing every moment they had together with their children and their community.

One evening, as they sat on the beach watching the sun dip below the horizon, Y/N leaned her head on Finnick’s shoulder. “Do you ever think about what might have been?” she asked softly.

Finnick wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “But then I look at you, at our kids, at all we’ve built... and I know we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be.”

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with love and gratitude. “I wouldn’t change a thing,” she whispered.

Finnick kissed the top of her head, his eyes fixed on the glowing horizon. “Neither would I,” he murmured. “Neither would I.”

And as the waves lapped gently at their feet and the stars began to twinkle overhead, they sat together in perfect contentment, knowing that they had not only survived but found a way to thrive, together, in a world they had helped to reshape.