link to the request → pregnant reader in the quarter quell
Hearing your name get called for the games a second time was probably the second worst moment of your life.
The worst being when your name lingered in the air and no one volunteered to take your place even though you were seven months pregnant.
You can’t blame them- if you were in their position you wouldn’t volunteer either. It didn’t make it hurt any less, especially when Finnick’s name was called after yours.
And here you are now, in the arena. One hand cradles your belly, the other holding tightly onto a spear while you survey your surroundings for enemies. Finnick is behind you, wound up more tightly than you’ve ever seen him in your life.
You can’t help but feel bad for him- he’s facing losing his girlfriend and his baby when just weeks ago you two were living in complete bliss.
“How is he?” Finnick asks quietly, though you know the cameras and hidden microphones will be able to pick up on his words.
When you appeared on Caesar Flickerman’s stage, pregnant belly on display, the audience was shocked and appalled. You have the feeling now, however, those same audience members are giddy wanting to know what your fate will be.
As far as they know, there can only be one survivor in these games.
“All good,” you hum, rubbing a hand over your bump. “All is fine.”
You turn around to look at Finnick only to see him with a deep frown on his face. “Good. We just need to find Johanna. She should be with Wiress and Beetee.”
You nod. The original plan was for you to separate off by yourself, but Finnick vehemently opposed that idea. You tried to remind him that you won your games before, that you’ve taken down nearly a dozen people on your own in the bloodiest battle at the Cornucopia that Panem has ever seen, but he didn’t want to hear it.
So now you’re hiding in the jungle, waiting for the rest of your alliance to arrive.
“Sounds good to me. I think I’m gonna sit for a minute- my back hurts,” you say easily. You can’t complain or else Finnick will actually lose his mind and tear down the arena piece by piece.
You would love to see that, but you know it’s not conducive to the plan.
As predicted, Finnick is all over you, touching you everywhere he can get his hands on. “Sit, lovely. I’ll keep an eye out for us.”
You roll your eyes fondly. “I can take care of myself.”
Finnick’s large hand rests on top of your large bump. “And I’m taking care of you and my baby.”
You lean back into him and close your eyes for one single second. You tell yourself you shouldn’t let your guard down, even with Finnick watching over you, but it’s so hard not to.
“We’re going to need to go back to the Cornucopia at some point,” you gently remind your lover.
“And you’ll stay safely away from anything that’s happening, my love,” he says, leaving no room for argument.
He’s softer now, more calm about you being in the games again than he was just a few weeks ago. It’s almost hard to imagine that your Finnick was tearing up your living room and threatening past victors and now here he is, gently rubbing circles onto your skin.
Now that you know there’s a future for the two of you somewhere where the elite of Panem can’t hurt you, it makes life a little bit easier.
link to the request → reader's clothes get ruined after the blood rain and finnick helps her rinse them
open to requests !!
You can hardly see as you stumble out from the dense jungle, Johanna mere feet behind you.
“Fuck,” you groan, spitting out a mouthful of thick, hot liquid. “What is this shit?”
“Blood,” Johanna says, coughing behind you. You can’t see her, but you can hear the aggravation in her voice. “We just got covered in blood.”
You feel arms wrap around you and you start to fight back on instinct. “Calm down,” the person holding you says. “It’s just me.”
Finnick.
You turn around in his arms, not caring that you’re spreading the blood from the jungle all over him. You haven’t seen him since you were on the pedestals and all of the emotions that you’ve been forced to hold in since then rush out. “Finn,” you cry, tears clearing a pathway on your red cheeks. “I’m dirty.”
You wipe your eyes in time to barely make out Johanna making her way towards the ocean and you instinctively follow her. The outfit that you’re wearing is waterproof, but the blood has seeped through it somehow, leaving every part of you stained with blood.
Finnick follows you to the water, gently guiding you past the lightly lapping waves.”I’m so dirty, I need to clean off.”
“Let me help you, love,” Finnick says, gently unzipping your suit and exposing your skin. “Let’s get a little deeper, okay?”
You nod and step further into the tide. You don’t like the ocean, and being from District 3 you can’t swim. But the presence of Finnick’s hand on your waist anchors you and makes you feel safe.
You first use the salty water to clear your vision fully and the first thing you see is Finnick staring down at you, worriedly. “None of this is mine,” you assure him. “It just started pouring on us. I thought I was going to choke on it.”
Finnick says nothing, just continues to rinse off the blood from your upper body. “I have to take the rest off, my love.”
You nod and grab onto his shoulders as he takes off the rest of the suit. You’re left in a sports bra and underwear, leaving you a little bit uncomfortable that you’re going to be half naked in front of the entirety of Panem. The abundance of scars from your games are displayed to the cameras, showing off the torture that you’ve had to go through.
Once all of the blood has been washed away, you step out of the ocean. You can’t put the jumpsuit back on because it still has to dry out. You frown and wrap your arms around yourself protectively, knowing there are cameras all over displaying you to the world.
“You’re gorgeous,” Finnick whispers, pulling you close to him. “We’ll be out of here soon enough.”
You press a kiss to his jawline and sigh, making your way over to the rest of the victors that Finnick has collected over the course of the day.
link to the request → finnick soothing insomniac reader
open to requests !!
The glow of the moon mesmerizes you from where you sit on the floor balcony of the hotel room you’re in.
You’re not sure what time it is anymore, but you know it’s late. The mug of tea next to you has long since dried up, a brown stain that can hardly be seen in the dark all that remains.
A million thoughts pass through your mind, overlapping and never letting one fully form. You think of what you need to do in the morning- return home to District 3. You should also probably stop in and see Beetee to check and see if he needs help with his latest project. The mere thought of Beetee makes you think of when he was your mentor back in the day and how his guidance helped you to win.
Like always, your late night thoughts turn into horror filled flashbacks of the games you were made to play when you were only sixteen years old.
A breeze passes over you and you wrap the cardigan you’re wearing tighter over your shoulders.
“So that’s where that old thing went,” you hear over your shoulder, snapping you from your own mind.
You don’t turn back but you know a pair of familiar hands will work themselves over your tight shoulders in an attempt to soothe. It happens almost every night, but the feeling of fingers working out the knot at the base of your neck makes you smile and lean your cheek into the chest of the man that has settled in behind you.
“I’m pretty sure this is mine,” you whisper, though there is no need. There’s no one else awake right now besides you and your love.
“That’s what you say about everything,” Finnick chides, working his hands from your shoulders to your waist before wrapping you up altogether. “It’s been two years of it and I’m still not used to it.”
You sigh, more in amazement than anything. Any thought that was previously plaguing you leaves your mind entirely. “Two years, wow.”
You can feel Finnick nod against your neck. “Two years since I had to practically fight Beetee off with a stick to let me love you.”
You roll your eyes lovingly. “He’s just protective, Finn.”
Finnick snorts but doesn’t say anything. He repositions himself, foot tapping against your empty tea mug. You watch in slight amusement as it slips under the guard rail and careens to the pavement below.
“Wouldn’t it be messed up if that hit someone?” You ask with a slight laugh.
“Maybe that’s what I was aiming for.”
You don’t respond, choosing to continue to look at the built-up landscape of the Capitol. It’s so different from home, but almost as familiar at this point. It’s held your attention for hours at this point, helping to keep your mind imprisoned by the implication of what those buildings mean for you.
“Are you ready for bed now, my love?” Finnick asks, pressing himself impossibly closer.
“A few more minutes,” you manage to get out. “I just want to look some more.”
link to the request → finnick and reader get pregnant and have a shotgun wedding
open to finnick requests !!
“Wake up.”
You straddle Finnick’s hips as he sleeps, slapping at his chest to get him to wake up even sooner. He scrunches his nose at the gentle slaps, so you resort to the next best thing.
“Finnick,” you drawl, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him firmly. “Wake the hell up.”
His eyes slowly open, a smile growing on his face when he sees you on top of him. “Well, hello. Good morning to me.”
You roll your eyes but you can’t find it in yourself to get annoyed with him. “I have good news. Do you want to keep being annoying or do you want to hear it?”
Finnick flips you both over so that now he’s laying on top of you. He wraps his arms around your shoulders and nuzzles his face into your neck. “I’m up for some good news.”
“Sure seems like it.”
“I am!” He insists.
“I guess I’ll just say it then. We’re having a baby. I’m pregnant.” A smile immediately breaks out across your face. You haven’t said the words out loud yet, so just acknowledging it is making you ecstatic.
Finnick pulls away from where he was kissing your skin quickly. “What? Are you serious?” His eyes frantically search yours. When you nod, he sits up fully and starts punching the air.
“What are you doing,” you giggle, hand covering your mouth. “What kind of reaction is that?”
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” He continues to punch the air before launching himself at you. “I did that. That’s my baby in there.” He kisses your lips twice before moving down to your stomach, which is currently covered by one of his shirts. He lifts up the fabric before speaking to your belly. “Hello, baby. It’s me, your daddy. You don’t know it yet, but this is the best moment of my life.”
You bury your face in your hands. “You’re so embarrassing.”
“Let’s get married,” Finnick says suddenly, pulling away from your skin. “Right now.”
You pull your hands away from your eyes and look at your boyfriend. His smile is so bright and his entire being is just radiating warmth. Without much thought, you nod enthusiastically. “Yeah. Yes, let’s do it.”
Finnick’s smile only grows wider, which you didn’t think was possible. “Right now?”
“Yes!” You insist, getting up off the bed. “Go get dressed.”
You pick out a little white sundress that’s been sitting in the back of your closet for years. You grab some sandals and pull your hair back into a low bun. Finnick chooses a flowy white top and a nice pair of pants.
You two leave your house hand in hand and make your way to the beach. Finnick carries a woven net and you carry a small bowl that will be filled with sea water.
The two of you stand on the shoreline, quietly whispering the words of your district’s wedding song to one another, each verse broken up by small giggles and wandering hands. Finnick drapes the net over your heads and you brush each of your lips with the ocean water.
When the two of you kiss, it’s salty and short, but you decide that it’s the best kiss of your life. There’s no one there to witness you and Finnick’s matrimony, but neither of you care.
“This is everything I’ve ever wanted,” Finnick says, still under the protection of the net. “You’re everything.”
Your eyes well up. “I love you, Finn. You and this baby and this life we’ve built together.”
link to the request → finnick is scared for reader as she goes into labor
open to requests !!
Finnick was scared.
After forty long weeks, you’re finally ready to have your baby.
For the duration of the pregnancy, he’s been hovering over you like a mother hen. Constantly making sure that you feel comfortable, that you have had enough to eat and drink, rising with you at odd hours of the morning just so you can open the window to smell the salt air.
But now that it’s actually time for the baby to come, he feels completely powerless.
There’s nothing that he can really do for you besides hold your hand and ask how you’re feeling. The midwife is taking care of both you and the baby excellently, but the lack of control over the situation is scaring him beyond belief.
“Fuck,” you groan as another contraction hits you. Finnick immediately sets down the blanket he was stress folding and rushes to your side. You’re in the bathtub at the moment, having decided that you wanted to do a water birth.
“Is everything okay? What’s wrong?” He sends a look to the midwife, who looks at him unimpressed.
“She’s fine. Her contractions are getting closer together, so we can start to expect her to begin pushing at any moment.”
Finnick blinks twice. He knew this moment was coming but having it be so close now is terrifying. “Is she ready? Is the baby even ready for that?”
The midwife lets out a sigh, brushing a cool towel over your forehead. “The contractions are letting us know that both baby and mama are ready for labor. Mr. Odair, how about you hold your wife’s hand and support her?”
Finnick rushes to put his hand in yours, eyebrows furrowing when he feels you squeeze the life out of his palm. “What can I do for you, my love?”
“Nothing,” you grunt. “Just stay there. I feel like pushing.”
Finnick can feel the blood drain from his face. He didn’t expect things to progress so quickly. “Oh. Okay, that’s fine. You’ve got this, my love. I’ll be right here the entire time.”
Even though he’s scared out of his mind, Finnick does his best to comfort you during labor. He keeps one of his hands clasped with yours, the other rubbing soothing circles on your lower back. When the midwife says that it’s finally time to push, he whispers encouraging words in your ears the entire time.
He puts his fears to the side to make sure that you feel as safe and loved as possible.
He only feels settled when he hears the cry of your son ring out in the air. When you let out a final sigh of contentment and hold your beautiful baby in your arms. This is what everything has been leading up to and neither of you could be happier.
“He’s beautiful,” you cry, running a finger down the bridge of his nose. “He looks just like you.” You’ve both left the bathroom and settled into your bed.
Finnick wipes his own tears away, choking down a sob. He doesn’t think the baby looks like much of anything right now, but he doesn’t say that. Instead he cradles the both of you in his own arms and stares down at the two loves of his life. “Thank you for giving me such a perfect life. I never thought I would be able to have this.”
“Thank you,” you whisper back. “This is everything I’ve ever wanted.”
Finnick plants a kiss on your neck before breathing the moment in.
He agrees- this is everything he’s ever wanted, as well.
link to the request → finnick helping reader with morning sickness
open to finnick requests !!
You lay completely flat on the couch, eyes closed with a towel draped over them just to ensure that not a single ounce of light passes through. In your mouth is a raw piece of ginger- a trick to help with the nausea.
You’ve been incredibly sick for your entire pregnancy so far. You expected the headaches, nausea, and mood swings to end with your first trimester, but here you are, twenty four weeks along, and every symptom remains.
“Hey, babies,” you hear your husband call out to you. You grimace, the sound of his voice making you feel worse.
“Finn, shut up. Please.”
Finnick doesn’t say anything. Instead, you hear him move closer to where you’re laying. He lays a hand on your prominent bump and begins to rub. It feels good for a few seconds before a sudden feeling of repulsion washes over you.
“I love you with everything in me Finnick Odair but the baby doesn’t like that,” you whine, a pout forming. At this point, you’re so bothered by the overstimulating atmosphere around you that you decide to just accept the headache and nausea. You take the towel off of your eyes and sit up.
You see Finnick smiling in front of you, beautiful as ever. You roll your eyes at his happiness and grab his hand, spitting the chunk of chewed up ginger into it. You’re not even surprised when even that doesn’t seem to break his high spirits.
“Tell me what’s wrong, my love,” he requests. You pout, feeling tears already coming in. Today has been unnecessarily hard for no reason and Finnick being as perfect as ever isn’t helping much.
“I feel sick,” you whine pathetically. He cooes at you and cradles your face with the hand that isn’t full of chewed up ginger.
“Do you want me to get you anything? Some tea?”
You nod slowly. You like a nice cup of tea, especially when you don’t feel good.
“What flavor? Does chamomile sound good?” He asks, backing away from you.
You think- chamomile is usually your go to tea, that would be fine. But the more you think about the tea, the more nauseous it makes you.
“Finn,” you moan, standing up from the couch. “Can you walk me to the bathroom?”
He scrunches his eyebrows together. “What about the tea?”
“Forget the damn tea,” you hiss, hand slapping over your mouth. Without his help, you run down the hallway to the downstairs bathroom, instantly lowering yourself to the toilet to expel the contents of your stomach.
Within seconds Finnick is by your side, holding your hair back with one hand and the other massaging soothing circles in the center of your back. “That’s it, honey. I’m sorry this is happening.”
You flush the toilet, letting out a deep breath. “It’s okay. Our baby just wants to make themselves known.”
“That’s right,” Finnick praises, helping you to your feet. You grab your toothbrush and scrub away at your teeth. Finnick stands behind you, peppering kisses onto your exposed neck at every chance he gets.
Once you're finished and you rinse out your mouth, you give Finnick a kiss. “I feel better, can you make me the tea now?”
He smiles his perfect smile before saying, “anything for you, my love.”
You settle back into the couch, perfectly content with life.
cw: stab wound, vomit, mentions of prostitution, murder, blood, death
link to the request → reader and finnick are in the quell together and reader gets injured. finnick does everything he can to protect her
open to submissions/asks !!
You never expected to be back.
Why would you? After winning the 68th Hunger Games, you thought you were free from the torment, but that was never the case. After winning and gaining the favor of the capitol, you were immediately thrust into the spotlight, being sold off to those who could afford you. You were given a slot each week on television, showing off baking recipes that you had no interest in making.
And now, your name was called once more from the pool of victors, placing you back to where you started when you were just sixteen years old, only this time with your boyfriend Finnick by your side.
The events of the weeks leading up to the start of the Quarter Quell passed in a blur. Things only start registering with you when you’re finally in the arena, eyes searching frantically around your surroundings to try and figure out what’s going on.
You can see water immediately in front of you with trees just beyond it, which is more than ideal since you’re from District 4. In your first games, you had to trek through fields of tall grass for miles before there was a place to take shelter.
After you find your bearings on the platform, you immediately begin to search for Finnick. You spot him across the water, the distance upsetting you, but Johanna is on your other side which is slightly comforting.
When the gong sounds, you immediately head for the Cornucopia. You thrived in the bloodbath in your last games and you plan to do so again. Finnick didn’t want you to put yourself at risk, but you have a reputation to uphold. You know the only way that you’re going to get any sponsors is if you put on a show.
Due to your strong swimming skills, you and Finnick get to the golden Cornucopia first. You barely have time to send a smile his way before you’re grabbing weapons- small knives to strap onto your body and a metal spear to hold. You feel a sick sense of satisfaction when you’re forced to use your newly acquired spear on another tribute, proud that you protected Finnick from a man that was going to kill him.
It’s only when you are finally forced away from the Cornucopia by Finnick’s strong hold on your upper arm that you have the time to talk to him. You can tell by the slight frown on his face that he’s not very happy with you.
“What were you thinking? I told you not to go to the Cornucopia.” He’s still holding onto your arm as you make your way through the jungle, Katniss and Peeta in front of you.
You roll your eyes and smile at him. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
Finnick only frowns at you more. “I’m trying to protect you, here. Something bad could have happened.”
You actually laugh at that. “I know you remember my games, Finn. The Cornucopia was mine in the last games. Don’t worry so much about me.”
He sighs, but drops the subject. The two of you fall silent.
The next few hours are terrible. Peeta’s near death, the acid fog, the monkey mutts that killed the poor morphling from District 6 and claimed your spear. The Quell is moving at a much quicker pace than any of the games have in the past and it’s worrying you.
Things only start to look up after Katniss uses Wiress’ cryptic words to discover that the arena is set up like a clock.
Finnick, ever inquisitive, says, “I’d like to go to the Cornucopia and watch. Just to make sure we’re right about the clock.” You all decide that it’s a pretty good idea and walk the short stretch over to the golden horn.
The others begin to talk mindlessly as you and Finnick branch off into your own conversation while you patrol the border of the Cornucopia. “It’s interesting that there’s nothing but weapons here this year. They’re really trying to get this over with,” you comment.
Finnick nods. “They want us dead. Good thing we know how to fish,” he smirks.
You shake your head in slight amusement, carefully toeing closer to everyone else. As you get closer to the group, you look up from your feet to see Gloss creeping up on the rock wedges, getting closer to an unsuspecting Wiress.
“No!” You scream, pulling a small dagger from your belt. “Wiress, move!” You try to close the gap between you and her.
But it’s too late. You watch in horror as Wiress’ throat gets easily cut by Gloss. Without much thought, you finish the sprint to Gloss, your blade swiftly leaving your hand and ending up in his neck. His eyes widen as he grabs at the handle but before doesn’t pull it out, instead he jumps towards you.
You almost don’t realize what happens. As Gloss lands on top of your body, the same knife he used to kill Wiress ends up in your lower abdomen. You scream, but in the chaos of trying to kill the rest of the careers along with the rapid shifting of the Cornucopia and surrounding waters, the sound gets lost.
It’s only after Finnick grabs your hand and begins to drag you off the island that the reality settles in. You were stabbed in the abdomen and you are losing blood. You put your hand over the wound and keep walking.
“Are you okay?” Finnick asks you once you are back on the beach. “Are you hurt?”
You debate lying for a second. The last thing anyone needs right now is another injured tribute. Beetee is barely hanging on as it is and Peeta is constantly slowing down the group, there doesn’t need to be another liability. But Finnick knows you and he would know if you lied to him.
“I think Gloss stabbed me,” is what ends up coming out of your mouth. You almost wish you lied when you see Finnick’s reaction.
His face twists up in a look of sheer panic, pupils blowing. His hands run across your body until they meet your own hand, holding firmly onto the meaty flesh of your lower torso. “Here?” He asks, gripping your red fingers. “This is where he got you?”
Tears welling up in your eyes, you nod. You can’t help but feel like a disappointment. You thought you would be able to absolutely dominate in these games based on your last ones, but you completely overlooked the fact that everyone else here is a victor, too.
“Okay, baby, let me look,” he gently commands. His eyes turn even wilder when you shake your head. “I need to look. I can’t help you if I can’t see it.”
Your hand drops from your side. Finnick wastes no time in unzipping your jumpsuit, pulling it below your sports bra and to your hips. He bites his lip as he assesses the damage. With a gentle hand, he prods at the tender flesh. A second later, you push him away and throw up.
You can hear him cursing behind you as you continue to retch. You don’t know why you’re sick, but you know that it cannot be good.
When your sudden sickness is over and you turn back to Finnick to assure him that you don’t know what that was, that you’re fine, you see the rest of the group staring at you, Katniss hands Finnick a mound of what looks like moss in one hand and a small tube.
“I know this isn’t the best option, but it’ll help. I’m sure someone will send us something better soon,” he sends you a small, still panicked smile.
You just nod your head. You’re embarrassed and tired and you want everyone to stop staring at you. You allow Finnick to lead you to where the spile has been hammered into a tree, rinse your wound, apply the medicine, and pack it with the moss. After a few minutes, you feel as good as new.
“Thank you, Finn,” you smile at him. He wraps his arms around you tightly.
“Of course,” he breathes into your hair. “Anything for you. I can’t believe I almost lost you.”
You press a kiss on his collarbone. “That was nothing. I’m not going anywhere.”
“We need to get out of here. You need a real doctor.”
You nod into his shoulder, not too worried anymore. “Soon.”
“Soon,” he repeats back.
And he keeps his promise. The rest of the plan plays out, although not perfectly. You and Finnick are both evacuated and he makes sure you see a doctor, for both the stab in your stomach and the gash in your arm where you cut the tracker out.
You know there’s still more to do, but you feel safe knowing Finnick will be there to protect you.
cw: explicit language, mentions of prostitution, angst
link to the request → reader and finnick get into an argument
open to submissions/asks !!
You watch the television with blood shot eyes. You’ve been staring blankly at the screen since President Snow announced the Quarter Quell.
You’re not sure how long it’s been- maybe six hours? All you know is that Caesar isn’t on the screen anymore, which is a shame.
You kind of like Caesar.
“Can you acknowledge me now? Or do you need to stare at the screen some more?” You hear Finnick ask you from where he stands in the doorway.
You didn’t realize he had come back home.
Your eyes snap away from the television to him. He looks disheveled. His hair is a mess and his eyes are red but not from overuse like yours are. You can see the lines going down his cheeks from where tears have dried.
“I didn’t realize you were going to come back so soon. Thought you would want to spend the rest of the day with Annie.” The words come out snarky, which you don’t intend for. You’re just stressed out and it seems that now is the perfect time for all of your pent up frustrations to make their way out.
“Oh, of course, bring her up,” he scoffs. “At least she can admit that she needs me around.”
You clench your fists in your lap, true anger forming. “And what does that mean?”
He lets out a deep breath through his nose. “I’m just saying that maybe my time today was better spent comforting someone who actually needed it.”
“I didn’t need your comfort?” You scream, standing to your feet. “I didn’t need you when my entire life just got turned upside down again? You know, Finnick, sometimes it would be nice to have my own boyfriend here!”
“What was I supposed to do for you when you get in your own head and refuse to speak to me? Sit there and stare at Caesar fucking Flickerman smiling on the television for the entire day like you want to do? No- I’m going to go comfort my best friend when she needs me!”
It’s your turn to scoff. “Have you ever considered the fact that maybe the reason why I don’t ask for comfort from you is because I’ve learned not to expect it? You spend all your time in the Capitol, these days. Forgive me for leaning on myself.”
Finnick stalks closer towards you but you refuse to back down. This fight has clearly been a long time coming and you want to hash it out, now, before the tensions get any worse.
“You can’t blame me for being in the Capitol. You know why I’m there,” he hisses, poison lacing each word.
You laugh. You actually laugh at that. “I’m not blaming you, Finnick, I’m just sick of this. In case you forgot, I also experience the same shit that you do. But at least I actually come home at the end of the day.”
He doesn’t say anything for a long moment. “So what does this mean for us?”
You blink. Your fists unclench. “I don’t know. I really don’t know. Part of me feels like maybe this relationship has run its course but I still love you more than words can describe.”
He reaches out and grabs your hands, running his fingers over your knuckles. “I love you too.”
“We need to get our shit together,” you laugh without any amusement, tears suddenly welling up in your eyes. You’re not really angry anymore, just upset.
“We do,” he agrees.
“I don’t want to go into the Quell with this looming over me, I just want us back,” you continue on.
His grip on your fingers tightens. “You’re not going into the Quell.”
You can’t help but laugh in his face. “Don’t be stupid, Finn. It’s either Annie, Mags, or me and you have to know neither of them would have any chance of making it.”
“Don’t say that. You’re not going back in. What if I get reaped, too? I can’t watch you die,” his voice breaks.
“There’s so many other men here who have a chance to get picked,” you whisper, gripping his hand back just as tightly. “Besides, Annie’s gonna need someone to keep her sane.”
“Oh, fuck off,” he whispers back, fresh tears pooling under his eyes.
“We’ll get through it. Let’s just… let’s just promise to never let things get this bad again.”
He kisses your forehead before smothering you in a hug. “I promise.”
